Saints: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 2)

by Cassie James

  I’m nearly to the bottom of the steps when the door on the first floor burst open. Jax stands panting in the open doorway, glaring at me as I freeze a few steps before I hit the main floor. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks.

  “Uh, hiding from the crazy person. Obviously.” He steps inside the stairwell and closes the door behind him, resting his back against it so no one else can open it. That also means I’m trapped inside. With Jax. That’s just awesome.

  “I made a mistake sleeping with Cece,” he announces. I fight the urge to cover my ears with my hands like a toddler that doesn’t want to listen. “It was fucking stupid.” He knocks his knuckles against the door, the sound echoing through the stairwell.

  I nod carefully. “Yeah, I think everyone that just saw her lose her fucking mind would probably agree with that. But it’s none of my business. I just want to go to the office and get cleared to go back to class so…” I trail off, hoping he’ll take the hint and move. I can’t say I’m surprised when he doesn’t.

  “That’s all you’re gonna say?” He looks angry with me, but that isn’t fair. I didn’t cause any of this. If he wants to get mad at someone, it should be Cece. Or maybe himself, since once again he seems to be at the center of a problem.

  “What do you want me to say, Jax? I have no idea what the hell even just happened up there. And I don’t owe you anything, just in case you’re confused about that. We’re not friends.”

  “No, we certainly are not.” He gives me a slow once over, and I’m officially done. This is going to turn sleazy again any minute if I don’t get the hell out of here.

  Feeling desperate, I sway my hips as I take the last few steps down to meet Jax at the bottom. His eyes go hooded as he watches me, definitely noticing the motion. It catches him off guard, which is perfect. We’re standing so close now. I reach my hands towards his shoulders… and bring my knee up hard between his legs.

  He lets out a sharp groan as he doubles over, leaving me just enough space to pull the door open enough that I’m able to slip out. I’ll probably pay for that later in some way, but at the moment it was the only thing I could think to do that didn’t end in one of us killing the other. Or fucking in a school stairwell. Both equally bad options, as far as I’m concerned. But I’m self-aware enough to know that sometimes I lose the lucid part of my brain when Jax is involved. It’s that combination of his sex appeal and my teenage hormones that acts like a heady cocktail of bad decisions.

  I reach the front office with no other issues, but I cringe when the lady that greets me in the office points me towards a waiting chair with only one open spot between Cece and I. That doesn’t seem like nearly enough distance between us. Discreetly, I chance a look at her from the corner of my eye. Her arms are crossed over her chest, but at least now she looks more annoyed than possessed by a demon.

  Eventually, Jax finds his way there, too. He has no choice but to take the seat between us. I’m not surprised when he purposely rams his chair against mine while he sits. It’s actually pretty minor compared to what I was expecting. Though, I guess he can only get away with so much in here. I make a mental note to make sure I leave with enough distance between the two of us that he can’t trap me in anymore stairwells.

  The main office door opens, and Patrick appears. His eyes find me immediately, then shift to Jax and Cece. He frowns and takes a few steps towards us. I shake my head, knowing there’s a good chance that will just make things worse. I’m relieved when he leaves it at that, walking over to the lady at the front desk and going about whatever business he has in here.

  While we wait for Headmaster Dupont to see us, I think about the first time I met Cece. Kathryn treated her like someone that needed to be reminded of their place. It seems like now she’s let a little bit of social power go to her head.

  It doesn’t take long before all three of us get called in at once. There are only two chairs in Dupont’s office. I’m the first one in, so I sit down in one. I assume Cece will take the other, and that’s exactly what direction she heads, but at the last second Jax slides into the chair before she has a chance. Dupont eyes him with disapproval but doesn’t say anything. Jax looks all too smug about that as he settles back in the seat.

  The headmaster clears his throat as he studies the three of us. His face gives nothing away at first, which makes my leg shake nervously. One quick, pointed look from Jax and I force myself to be still.

  “I spoke in depth with Dr. Knight just now about what transpired in his room this morning. Miss Winchester, apparently you need a reminder about what sort of behavior is expected here at The Patience School. This is the second time you’ve had an outburst like this in the last month.” He eyes her with a healthy dose of disappointment before turning towards Jax and me. “Mister Woods and Miss Lexington, based on Dr. Knight’s recommendation, the two of you are excused. A security guard is coming down to walk you back up to class.” He gestures to the door. “Go wait outside for him, please.”

  Cece glares at both of us as we stand up to leave. She takes a step towards me, but then thinks better of it and pivots towards Jax, instead. “One of these days you’ll get yours, Woods,” she spits out at him. “Daddy can’t protect you from everything.”

  “That’s enough, Miss Winchester. Sit down before your suspension becomes an expulsion.”

  After all that crap she said to me upstairs, I can’t find it in me to feel bad for her anymore. I know it makes sense that Kathryn’s second in command would naturally take up her throne, but I’m not so sure it’s going to end well. It’s clear to me that she can’t handle the pressure. I’m willing to guess there’s a good chance Cece self-implodes, and I can only hope like hell she doesn’t take the rest of us down with her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Just when I think I won’t have to worry about hearing from my fake mom again, a slew of new calls come in from the Nikon Park area code. After the third consecutive one, in a fit of panic, I throw my phone across the kitchen, watching it skid across the marble floor until it comes to a stop. At Pearl’s feet. She doesn’t look the least bit amused as she slowly bends over and picks up the offending device. She studies the phone with a deep frown.

  “Who is this number?” she demands, her voice harsh like she’s accusing me of something. As if I want to be getting these phone calls.

  I return her dark look with one of my own. “That would be Lynne Brown, my not-mother.” I cross my arms over my chest as I add, “And before you ask, I haven’t been talking to her. Every time she calls I block the number, but she just keeps finding new phones to call from. Probably her junkie friends’ phones.”

  “Why on earth haven’t you said anything? We can get you a new number, that should solve the problem.” She mutters, “I’m not sure how she would have gotten your number in the first place.” I’m glad it seems like she’s saying it to herself and not asking me, because I would hate to have to lie. The only person in Nikon Park that I talked to on this number—and not the one Smith originally gave me—was Jake. Jake, who is also the only person my mother would probably remember knew me. She wasn’t so good at keeping track of my friends, but Jake was around enough that he seemed to stick in her memory. Lucky him.

  I’m hoping like hell that something couldn’t possibly have possessed Jake to hand over my number to that woman, but I also can’t be real sure right now. Jake was so mad at me the last time I saw him. Madder than I’d ever seen him. Who really knows what he could be capable of with that much anger swirling around inside of him? It’s not like I can just call him and ask, either, since I haven’t gotten a response back from him in months.

  “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to bother you with it,” I explain to Pearl. I can’t help but feel a little defensive. It’s not like she’s been all that accessible to me. In fact, the longer I’m here it seems like the less time she’s spent with me. At least when I first got here we were sharing some meals together. Now I can go full days without seeing
her at all.

  Pearl taps her foot, her shoe creating an echo from the kitchen floor. “It wouldn’t be a bother. My job is to be concerned with your safety.” Could’ve fooled me. “I assumed you knew you could ask me for anything. I’ve replaced your clothes, your phone, and purchased you a car. Surely you’ve realized that money is no object here. It won’t be a problem to have your phone number replaced again.”

  It’s almost funny how offended she looks. She did buy me those things, I can’t deny that, but she’s crazy if she expects me to come to her with my hand out every time I want or need something. That’s a horrible way to live. I never did that in Nikon Park, and I’m not going to do that here. And that whole thing about being concerned with my safety? That’s laughable at best. She doesn’t even know where I am half the time.

  “You look upset,” she notes, her hawk-like eyes carefully watching me as I clench my water glass in a tight fist. The whole thing starts to move, and I realize I’m shaking. I set it down on the counter harder than I mean to, my emotions definitely getting the best of me. It’s those calls. They’re putting me on edge. Too on edge to be having any kind of confrontation with Pearl right now, but here we are.

  “I am upset.” Before I know what’s happening, big teardrops are dripping down my face. I turn away, sniffling as I try to make it stop. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I seriously never cried in Nikon Park. Never. It’s like this place is my own personal brand of Kryptonite.

  Pearl’s shoes click-clack across the floor towards me and when they stop, she pats my back hesitantly, nearly making me jump out of my own skin. Physical contact isn’t really a thing we do, so it’s extra jarring. “There, there,” she says, the words stilted like she feels as funny saying them as I do hearing them. It’s basically the least comforting version of comforting that anyone’s ever tried to do for me. But points for effort, I guess? “What exactly is it we’re crying over? Hmm?”

  “Everything!” I sound like a moody teenager, and even though I know it, I can’t seem to stop it from happening. My tears start coming harder until I’m hiccuping, which is so freaking embarrassing.

  Pearl gently guides me by the shoulders onto a stool at the countertop. She slides my water towards me and encourages me to take a sip. It doesn’t do all that much to calm me. I mostly just end up nearly choking as I try to swallow and sob at the same time. And let me tell you, that is not an easy skill set.

  “I had no idea you were so unhappy here.” I can’t see her anymore through all the goddamn waterworks, but she sounds like she’s frowning. I can hear it in the way her words come out short and slow.

  I shake my head, not knowing how to explain to her that unhappiness isn’t exactly how I’m feeling. It’s more like I feel lost and a little isolated. I went from having a shitty family to having a mostly absent family of one, and I’m honestly starting to question which one’s worse. I drop my head to the counter with a thud, trying to take calming breaths so I can stop the flow of tears that’s apparently endless.

  It feels like it takes forever, but eventually the tears do stop. I even manage to take a full breath with no hiccups or shuddering. I wait another minute before I finally raise my head and look at Pearl. I’m surprised she’s still standing here, honestly.

  My voice comes out sounding pretty hollow as I finally manage to explain, “I don’t feel comfortable asking you for things because I’m not used to having someone spend their money on me. And honestly? It doesn’t help that you and I haven’t exactly developed any kind of relationship since I got here. It makes everything feel even more awkward because you still feel like a virtual stranger to me.”

  She starts to open her mouth to speak but I hold up a hand. I’m not done, and I really need her to hear me out.

  “I didn’t want to be a burden on you. So, I did things I hadn’t done back home. Like actually showing up to school, and tolerating those parties you threw for me even though I hated being the center of attention for a bunch of gossiping strangers.” I don’t mention the obvious, that one of those parties went as wrong as a party can go. Because seriously, what’s worse than a birthday party that ends in someone being dead?

  Pearl taps the countertop as she sidles closer to me, heaving herself onto the stool next to mine and takes hold of my hands. For two people who haven’t had a lot of physical contact, we’re sure getting a lot of it now.

  “I may have made an error in judgement, Juliet.” She sighs, her tongue snapping against the roof of her mouth in a familiar clicking noise. “I’ve thought it best to keep my distance, to let you come into your own here without any extra burdens. But I’m afraid maybe the time has come for us to have a talk about your future here.”

  This doesn’t sound at all like what I want to talk about. I’m not worried about the future—I’m worried about right now. I don’t understand why she doesn’t get that. She’s the only family I have, and I’m tired of this lingering doubt in the back of my mind that maybe she wishes I wasn’t here.

  “Juliet, I’m sick.” The world around me seems to come to a screeching halt with those words.

  “Sick,” I repeat the words as if I’ve never heard before. I give Pearl a once-over, wondering if there’s something I missed, but she looks perfectly healthy to me. Probably healthier than a woman her age should, honestly. But she says it like it’s far more dire than a cold or the flu, and her expression suddenly looks heavy with the weight of what she’s sharing with me.

  “I have a tumor on my brain, one that’s been growing for a long time now.” My eyes jerk up to look at her skull as if I’m somehow going to see through it to what’s inside. Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t a fucking brain tumor.

  Pearl looks away, pensively staring at the wall just behind my head as she looks like she’s struggling to gather her thoughts. I think this is the first time we’ve had a talk that was anything more than surface level since last year when Pearl showed me the family photos. Finally, she takes a deep breath and dives in.

  “Two police officers showed up on my doorstep the night those monsters were finally caught after what they did to my nephew, and to you. I’d just been diagnosed and all I could think about was that all of this,” she gestures around her, “Lexington Estate, it would be lost. Hearing they’d found you after all that time—it felt like a prayer had been answered. But I wasn’t prepared to take in a teenager, Juliet. I’ve never been a mother, myself. Never needed to take care of anyone but myself and sometimes Hollis, after your grandmother died.”

  “I couldn’t let child services place you with a stranger, but I wasn’t keen to bring you here to watch me die, either.” She shakes her head, looking at me with mournful eyes. “I’ve been trying to give you what you need to make it here. To take over the Lexington legacy for yourself, so that someday your own children can enjoy what your ancestors built. So, I’m sorry, if you expected I would be warmer or more comforting, but I won’t coddle you, Juliet. No, I need you to be strong so that I know you’ll survive here when I’m gone.”

  An ache blooms in my chest, the kind of ache I never thought I’d feel. Pearl hasn’t been warm or cuddly, no, but she’s my family. Even if Pearl and I are still virtually strangers, I feel myself hurting for what could have been if only we’d had more time. If Nick and Lynne Brown hadn’t stolen it from us.

  A million questions are swirling in my mind, so I ask the one that hurts the least. “What if I don’t want this house? What if I don’t want the responsibility of being the Lexington?”

  Her face transforms from sorrow to absolute anger. She grabs my arm and yanks me closer, speaking directly into my face. “How dare you even ask me that? You don’t get to decide who you are, Juliet. You were born into something bigger than just yourself, and now it’s your duty to uphold that. I’ve protected this house my whole life, and now what? You’re ungrateful with everything you’re poised to get? The house, the fortune, the respect?”

  That last part makes me snort, causing P
earl’s lip to curl up in disgust. “If the people here don’t respect me now, I can’t imagine they’ll respect me any more just because my name goes on the deed here.”

  “You have no idea, child. It’s not just a house and money you’ll be getting, you’ll be getting all of it. Everything Hollis left behind.” I sit up a little straighter. This is the first time Pearl’s said anything to allude that Hollis might really have left a treasure.

  I don’t think she understands, though. “The one thing I would have really wanted from this house is a relationship with you.” I stare at her, the pain hitting me all over again as she slowly releases me and scoots back into her own space.

  “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” She fusses with her hair, smoothing a section that already looks perfectly in place. “I had an appointment here with my doctors last week while you were away at school. They don’t believe I have much time left before I’ll be forced to go into a permanent facility for end-of-life care. My tumor is growing at an unprecedented rate. I’ve been lucky, I’m more than strong enough to tolerate a few headaches and a little bit of vision loss, but soon I’ll be falling apart much more rapidly.”

  “Then shouldn’t we be spending time together for whatever time you have left?” I don’t understand why that seems to be the furthest thing from her mind.

  “No.” The word is firm, not the slightest bit of doubt or second-guessing. “My concern is that you be prepared for what’s coming, not that we dwell on things that can’t be helped. I’m sorry that I can’t give you what it is you so desire, but I need to give you what it is I know you’ll need. Starting with this.” She stands up and crosses the kitchen, opening a drawer in one of the far cabinets. She brings back a stack of papers and places them down in a neat pile in front of me.

  “What is this?” I ask, frowning at the words across the top.