Touched by the devil, p.31
Touched by the Devil, page 31
part #3 of Boys of Preston Prep Series
Because he’s obsessed with the sense of competition that only exists in his twisted head, the expression on his face says he doesn’t believe that at all.
“You should be,” he says. “Check this out.” He holds up his phone, and although it’s pretty clear from the jump that I’m watching porn, it takes me a second to get past the slapping flesh to figure out what’s going on. It’s a girl on her stomach, face covered by her hair, neck turned sideways. A hand cinches around her neck as he stands over her, pounding into her aggressively. A queasy feeling builds in my stomach. I can’t see his face any more than I can see hers, but there is one identifiable mark. A devil tattoo, on his bicep. My brother’s tattoo. He grins down at me. “Damn, this girl lets me do whatever I want to her. You missed out on this one.”
“Are you sure she’s into that?” I ask, unable to look away for a reason I can’t quite put my finger on. “It looks like she can’t breathe.”
“She’s into whatever I’m into. That’s what makes it so good.” He turns off the video and slides his phone back in his pocket. His eyes narrow. “Are you judging me or something?”
Yes. Of course, I’m judging you, you complete fucking psycho.
But I don’t say anything. What can I? If I defend Syd, he’ll think I’m jealous and make it twice as bad for her. Acting aloof is probably the best thing I can do. He’ll get bored soon enough and head back to school, where he can terrorize college girls. Shit. That doesn’t make me feel any better.
I suck in a breath. “I think you probably should stop showing people a video of you choke-fucking a high school girl if you don’t want to get slapped with a charge. Does she know you have that?”
He laughs. “I told you, she’s a freak. She asked me to record it.”
Honestly, it fits. Sydney films, and streams, ninety percent of her day. From brushing her teeth to her late-night ramblings and dance marathons, Sydney loves to document every little fucking thing. If anyone would want visual proof she’d had sex with my brother, it would be her.
“Whatever. As long as you’re covering yourself,” I say, heading to the door.
“One more thing.”
I pause, feeling the annoyance and irritation build in my spine. “What?”
“There’s a fight coming up, a big one up in Peachford. People are coming from all over to be in it.”
I sigh and press a hand against the door jamb. “I can’t. You know that.”
“Can’t or won’t, doesn’t cut it, baby bro. The winner’s pot is going to be epic. You’ve been out of the game long enough that people are talking.” From the pinched look on his face, it’s obvious what he thinks of this. There’s a reason he never wanted me crossing paths with the Devils back in his day. The thought of me being more popular—more wanted—always made him the meanest. “They asked for you specifically.”
“I don’t need any money.” I swallow, adding, “You’re not my manager, Heston. Stop acting like it. I’m not fighting for you or anyone else. I’m done with that shit.”
I step into the hallway, adrenaline and fear pumping in my veins. ‘No’ isn’t something my brother is used to hearing, but it’s time. If Sugar can let me touch her, every single day—if my mom can wake up some mornings with that sunny smile of hers—then I can shut Heston down.
I get to the stairs and as I take the first step, his voice rings out.
“I see you’ve got some new friends over there at Preston.”
I turn slowly, keeping my face blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Only now, I’m starting to realize that he’s been fucking Sydney, the biggest loudmouth I know. She absolutely would feed him intel from inside the school.
Intel like his brother having a new girlfriend.
I’m expecting it so much that when he says, “I hear you’re getting pretty tight with Vandy,” it takes a suspended moment for it to really sink in.
I laugh.
And then I keep laughing.
“Fucking hell, Heston. If you want to go after Vandy, then it’s your funeral. Emory and Reyn would absolutely smoke your ass.” Of all the people I worry about, Vandy is near the end of that list. Sure, she’s a sweet little thing with her own vulnerabilities. But she’s also completely locked down.
Heston’s face goes dark at this, eyes flashing angrily. “You don’t want to fuck with me, Sebastian. You’re going to be in that fight.”
I volley back, “No, I’m not,” and I know from the storm in his eyes that it’s a mistake—something that’s going to bite me in the ass. There’s no escaping Heston’s abuse. Not for me. Not for Sydney. But there’s one person I’m determined to protect and I’ll do everything I can to make sure that he never finds out Sugar exists.
22
Sugar
“Shhh.”
“You shhh.”
“I’m trying to be quiet.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks, making as much noise as a bull in a china shop. After weeks of patience and ten bags of treats, Lucy and Abby have finally grown comfortable with us. At least, until Sebastian drops the metal can of food on the sidewalk, sending them all scurrying off. “It’s fucking cold as balls out here. My fingers are frozen.”
“Give it to me.” I hold out my hand, and he drops the can in my palm. I push my nail underneath the tab and pull it open. The cats perk up and slowly stalk back over. I bend over and scoop out half the food into one of the containers on the ground, then place the rest in another.
Straightening, I don’t even flinch when Sebastian wraps his arms around me from behind. It’s not as easy as it was a couple days ago, when I was baked off the blunt at the bonfire, but it’s also not as bad as it used to be, either. There’s a moment of panic at being held, but as I’m coming to learn is best, I face it head-on instead of locking it away.
This time, it only takes a couple minutes for it to pass.
Sebastian pushes his fingers under my shirt, and I flinch for an entirely different reason. “Jesus Christ. Your hands are cold!”
“I need you to warm me up,” he says, lips against my neck.
“At least your uniform has pants,” I grumble. “If anyone needs warmed up, it’s my skirt-wearing ass.”
“At your service,” he says, voice full of innuendo.
His fingers dip below the waistband of my skirt, stroking against the skin. I’m not sure how I can go from panic, to relief, to squirming with desire so quickly, but Sebastian seems to bring it out in me. Every time he’s near me, touching me, the fire in my belly gets a little hotter, a little wilder. The idea of someone touching me like this used to repulse me, but now I find myself wishing for it—dreaming about it—all the damn time. It’s becoming a huge distraction, though not an entirely unwelcome one. It’s nice to look across the quad and see him standing with his friends, knowing the fingers he’s gesturing with are mine, in a secret sort of way.
“Lunch will be over soon,” I say, turning to graze my lips against his cheekbone. “But maybe after classes are over, we could… you know.”
He turns his head to catch my gaze, blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun. “We could what?”
My face heats, but I hold his gaze. “Go back to your room. Hang out for a bit.”
He holds my stare and I see the gears turning. It’s been hard to find the time and privacy for what I want, between school and clubs and Sebastian spending so much time at that garage.
To my surprise, he lets out a long, annoyed groan. “You’ve gotta be fucking with me, girl. You finally want to fool around, and I have to go to that goddamn game?”
I grimace, looking away. “Oh, I forgot about that.”
“Trust me, if it wasn’t completely mandatory, I’d be all over that.” He gives my hips a squeeze. “You should come to the game, too.”
The whole school is pretty caught up in the basketball team making it to the playoffs. I’ve been bombarded with banners and school spirit all week. “Didn’t you say you had to hang out with your lacrosse ‘bros’ or something?”
“Just for the first half. Coach is very into team camaraderie.”
“Basketball is boring,” I sigh, resigned to another night without Sebastian’s hands on me. “I may just use the time to work in the lab. I need to get the last few pieces ready for the exhibit anyway.”
“What exhibit?”
I shudder when his fingers move, wiggling enticingly lower on my stomach. “It’s this thing Preston does every year. For the Arts Department?”
“You’re in that?” His fingers still. “What am I talking about, of course you’re in that. Your stuff is fucking awesome.”
I roll my eyes, even though my face gets hot again. “It’s just a lot of pressure because most of the kids here have like years' worth of critically approved pieces, so I’ve been playing catch-up.”
What’s most embarrassing to admit is that, more and more, it’s starting to look like some of my best stuff revolves around Sebastian himself. Abby, the first car show, the shots taken of him at the mall. I’d even gotten Georgia to drive me out to that spot that overlooks the lake for a nice landscape shot, and I’m itching like fucking crazy to develop the photos I’d taken the night of the bonfire. Part of it is that Bass actually gets me off this damn campus, but I know that’s not all of it. Every picture of him—every picture taken of something in connection to him—comes out heavy and dark and full of something that almost hurts to inspect too closely.
“Well, who said you needed to come watch the game?” He licks under my ear. “I’m thinking we can make out under the bleachers.”
I watch the cats sniffing at the food, squirming as his fingers hit a ticklish spot. “Getting fingerbanged in a sweaty gym beneath five hundred peoples’ asses is not the prize you think it is, Wilcox.”
He laughs. “You tell me when you’re ready to get banged a different way and I’m all in.”
Bass and I haven’t had sex yet, but with things building the way they are right now, it feels inevitable. He makes no effort to hide how much he wants it. He doesn’t ask quite as much as he used to, but he doesn’t need to. I can see it in his eyes when we kiss, in the impatient buck of his hips when we’re pressed close together, his cock always hard and insistent.
I’ve grown accustomed to some part of his body always being on me; his mouth, his hands, the press of his hard erection into my thigh. He’s like a vampire, but instead of blood, he feeds on touch. Also like a mythical creature, he’s got me under his thrall, and it takes every ounce of energy to not just spread my legs and tell him to come on, already. The truth is that if he got me under the bleachers, I probably would let him do whatever he wanted to.
“You go to the game,” I decide, because when I finally get to have Sebastian, it’ll be somewhere quiet and private where I can really enjoy him. “I’ll see you later.”
He sighs long-sufferingly. “If you change your mind, you know where I’ll be. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. I am supposed to hang out with the lacrosse team. No chicks allowed.” He releases me and I clean up the trash from feeding the kittens, while he dumps the water container then refills it from a bottle in his bag. He taps at the bowl. “I’m a little worried it may freeze overnight.”
“We can check on it, if it does.” This cold snap is supposed to last through the next week—with even the possibility of some snow. The memorial for my father is next week, so freezing temperatures and snow sound about right. The day he was buried, it rained so hard that the dirt from the grave turned into a river of red mud. Unfortunately, that set a precedent. There’s no way my mother will let us out of it for a little snow. “We need to keep an eye on Abby, too. She needs to be warm when it’s time to deliver.”
We’ve talked this over a few times, trying to figure out a way to sneak the cats into the dorms. Georgia is allergic, so my room’s out. Bass has his suite, but he’s worried about getting them up four flights of stairs without one of them freaking out and getting loose. Thankfully, there’s still some time to come up with a plan.
Speaking of plans…
“Oh,” I say, as we walk back toward the main part of campus. “And can you ask Merle if he thinks my car will be ready by this weekend?”
Sebastian shoots me a wary glance. “Why? You need a ride somewhere? I can drive you.”
“I do have an appointment,” I admit, shaking my head at his offer, “but it’s just been a while since I left it with him. Even if he actually wants to work on the car, it has to be a nuisance at this point.”
Sebastian waves this off. “Are you serious? He’s into it, not to mention totally anal about getting everything just right.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity.”
A flicker of tightness crosses Bass’s face but quickly vanishes. “You’re not taking advantage. Trust me, Merle doesn’t do anything he doesn’t one-hundred-percent want to do. I’ve seen this guy turn down harder cases than you. I’m sure it’ll be finished soon.”
I purse my lips, unconvinced. “If you really think so.”
“I don’t think, Sugar. I know.” He walks me right up to the front steps of Hayden, bouncing on his toes against the cold of the wind. “So, if you’re not coming to the game, maybe we can hang out after?”
I hum in thought. “If I get everything finished in the lab, maybe we can hang out.” It’ll be too late to risk much, but at this point, I’m willing to take anything.
He dips down to kiss me, tongue sweeping between my lips, thumbs pressing into my hips. I link my arms around his neck and slowly lose myself in him until someone loudly clears their throat.
“Gross, get a room.” We pull apart and see Georgia down at the bottom of the steps, smirking at us. “Not our room, mind you. I need to get ready for the game.”
Bass and I say goodbye for real and I head up to the dorm room with Georgia. I sit on the edge of my bed while she sorts through her black and red spirit wear for the game. The sight of it makes my head ache—or maybe it’s just all the tension I’m carrying.
She glances over at my long sigh. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just overwhelmed, I guess.”
“With Bass?”
“No.” I pick at a sticker on my phone case. “I’ve got that showcase in a couple weeks, plus I need to go home for this family thing next week and I’m totally fucking dreading it.”
“Oh, I can relate to that. My cousin is getting married this summer and we have this huge shower coming up. It’s a couple’s shower, which means I should bring a date. My mom is already obsessing over the fact that I don’t have a boyfriend, always going on about how I need to try harder. My cousin is super perfect and she’s marrying a doctor, so I figure it’s going to be one huge ‘dump on Georgia’ party. It’s the last fucking thing I want to do.”
Although that does sound terrible, it doesn’t quite compare to having to see my abusive stepfather to celebrate my father’s death.
“Are you taking Bass home with you?” she asks, while pulling a white tank top over her black bra.
I wince. “Yeah, that’s part of the problem. I haven’t told him about it. I’m not sure how he and my family would get along.”
“Because he’s super rich and they’re,” she gives me an apologetic look, “not?”
“That’s a part of it. It’s just…” I wedge my nail under the sticker edge. “See, my mom’s husband and I don’t really get along.” Understatement of the fucking century. “And you know how Bass can be, so…”
But her expression turns comprehending. “Overprotective? Mouthy and hot-tempered? Voted most likely to cause a massive scene by JD Power and whoever?”
“Yes, those things.” I nod, falling back on my bed. “And truthfully? My stepfather isn’t much better. I can see it going badly. I just don’t want him to think I’m ashamed of him or something. This is definitely a case of them being the problem, not Bass.”
Georgia pulls on a pair of skin-tight, black leggings. “Bass has changed since you got here. Believe it or not, he seems to have calmed down, at least a little. The irritation and anger flare-ups seem to happen less, and I haven’t heard anything about him fighting lately—officially or unofficially. Mostly he just seems really into you. Who knew this whole time he just needed a fine piece of ass to focus all his energy on?” Sending me a grin, she pushes her feet into her shoes. “Just talk to him. Bass knows more about fucked-up families than he may have told you. Now that I think about it, if you want to loan him to me for the shower, I’ll take him.”
I don’t expect the flicker of jealousy to rise in my chest, but it does—hot and furious. “Georgia, I like you a lot, but so help me—”
“Kidding, I was kidding!” she adds quickly, heading toward the door. “Sure you can’t come to the game tonight? I hear it’s going to be pretty epic.”
“I’ll try to swing by after I get some work done.”
“Don’t wait too long,” she says, then steps into the hallway and closes the door. “I’m telling you, there are some things you don’t want to miss at Preston. This game is one of them.”
I try my hardest to focus on my work, sorting through the photos I plan on using in the exhibit. My mind is on other things—home, my mom, my dad, Doug. Carrying Sebastian over to that world, my world, hadn’t really crossed my mind, but with our relationship intensifying, I don’t know how I can keep it from happening forever. My gaze keeps going back to the photo Gwen mentioned at dinner; the one of the cemetery and my father’s grave. I hate the idea of going to celebrate my father while Doug is there. He pretends to be respectful—my dad was a hero, after all—but I know he’s jealous that my mom still honors him every year. He dotes on her all day and I get the brunt of his attitude. That’s what finally makes me realize that I not only want Sebastian to go with me, I think I need him to.
Thinking about all this dries up my creative mood, and I put away the equipment. If Georgia is right, I shouldn’t be down in the lab during a major social event. I lucked out with this scholarship and I should take advantage of every opportunity. I’m part of Preston Prep now, stupid basketball games included.
