Twisted Palace (14 page)

“Pretending to be reluctant and forcing you to make all the moves? He must be loving that.” He sobers up. “No, Ella, you’re just going to have to take my word on this. Reed’s been around the block so many times, there’s probably a trench built from all his activity. There’ve got to be other nice boys at Astor for you to date. Why don’t you find one and we’ll revisit this conversation?”

I can’t mask my astonishment. “I don’t work that way. I don’t discard people like that. Reed is not disposable in my life.”
I’m not like you
.

“Let’s see how long his affections last when he doesn’t have access to you. Don’t be so easy, Ella. It’s not attractive.”

If I’d been the child Steve pretends that I am, I would’ve shouted an insult back. One burns at the back of my throat. One that says he needs to stop measuring me by his own miserable stick. But I’m not going to get anywhere by confronting Steve. Thankfully, the elevator finally fucking arrives.

“I need to get to school,” I inform him as I step inside the car.

“Classes are over at three forty. I expect you here by four.”

The elevator doors slide shut.

A tension headache pounds at my temples as I speed out of the basement parking garage three minutes later. The relentless throb of frustration doesn’t let up until I reach Astor Park.

How ironic that the place I once hated now feels like a refuge.

W
orst weekend of my life
. No lie.

I spent all of Saturday with Halston Grier going over the details of my case. My lawyer maintains that the DNA—
my
DNA—they found under Brooke’s fingernails is the most damning piece of evidence the cops have. He admitted that my explanation about Brooke scratching me out of anger might not sway a jury if this goes to court, especially combined with the video surveillance.

I can’t even remember her scratching me. My memory of the event is her demanding money, me laughing at her, her swinging a hand toward my face and not connecting. She wobbled on her feet. I caught her and pushed her away. She must’ve grazed me then.

Which makes all of this so much bullshit. I didn’t kill that woman. Just because her fingernails didn’t break any of my skin doesn’t mean she didn’t scratch me. I’ve offered to take a lie detector test, but Grier says that even if I pass with flying colors, polygraph results aren’t admissible in court. And if I fail the thing, he warned that the police might find a way to leak those results to the press, who would crucify me.

Sunday, I wallowed around the house missing Ella, and not because I want to bone her, like Steve thinks. I miss her company, her laughter, and her smart-ass taunts. Steve kept her busy all weekend, so we were only able to text and talk on the phone a couple of times. I hate that she’s not living with us anymore. She belongs here. Even Dad agrees, but when I pushed him to talk to Steve about it, he shrugged and said, “He’s her father, Reed. Let’s just see how it goes.”

When Monday finally comes, I’m practically dying of anticipation. Even though I’m released to practice, Coach has me running no-contact drills only, and he says there’s no guarantee I’m going to see playing time on Friday. He’s still pissed at me about the fight with Ronnie last week.

Speaking of Ronnie, the asshat wanders over to the bench a few times to harass me, calling me “killer” under his breath so Coach can’t hear.

I don’t give a crap what he thinks of me, though. The only opinions that matter belong to my family and Ella, and none of them believes I’m a killer.

“You’re going the wrong way,” East says with a grin as we walk across the south lawn after practice. “Don’t you have Bio?”

I do, but I’m not going there. Ella just texted to meet her at her locker. It’s in the junior wing of the school, the opposite direction of the senior buildings.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” is all I say, and my brother waggles his eyebrows mischievously.

“Gotcha. Tell little sis I said hi.”

We part ways at the front doors, East darting off to his first class while I march down the hall toward the junior locker banks. Several girls smile at me, but just as many frown. Furtive whispers tickle my back as I walk. I hear the word “police” and someone else says, “father’s girlfriend.”

Other guys might flush with embarrassment or cower in shame, but I don’t care about any of these kids. My shoulders are straight and my head is held high as I brush past them.

Ella’s entire face lights up when she spots me. She launches herself at me, and I catch her easily, burying my face in her neck and breathing in her sweet scent.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she says with a smile. “I missed you.”

“Missed you, too.” A groan slips out. “You have no idea how much.”

Sympathy fills her eyes. “Are you still upset about the meeting with the lawyer?”

“A little. But I don’t want to talk about that right now. I want to do
this
.”

I kiss her, and she makes the hottest sound against my lips. Kind of a whimper crossed with a happy moan. I slip her some tongue just so I can hear her make that noise again. She does, and my body tightens.

“Ahem.”

A loud throat-clearing has us breaking apart.

I turn, nodding politely at the teacher standing behind us. “Ms. Wallace. Morning.”

“Good morning, Mr. Royal.” Her lips flatten in a severe line. “Ms. Harper. I think it’s time for you two to go to class.”

I nod again and take Ella’s hand. “On our way,” I assure the frowning teacher. “I’m walking Ella there now.”

Ella and I hurry away from the locker, but I don’t walk her to class like I said. Instead, I turn left at the end of the hall. Once we’re out of Ms. Wallace’s line of sight, I tug Ella into the first empty classroom I find. It’s one of the junior music rooms, completely dark because the heavy gold drapes are drawn shut.

“What are we doing?” Ella hisses, but she’s laughing.

“Finishing what we started back there,” I reply, my hands already landing on her slim hips. “One kiss wasn’t enough.”

One
anything
is never enough with this girl. I don’t know how I ever lived without her. I mean, I went out with other girls. Slept with a few of them. But I’ve always been picky as hell. Nobody ever really held my interest for more than a week or two, sometimes not more than a day, an hour.

Not Ella, though. She got under my skin the moment I met her, and she’s still there, in my blood, in my heart.

Our lips meet again, and this kiss is hotter than the first. Her tongue is in my mouth and my hands are on her ass, and when she starts wiggling her lower body against my crotch, I lose all awareness of our surroundings.

“C’mere,” I mutter, dragging her to the teacher’s desk.

She hops up, and I instantly move between the cradle of her thighs. Her legs wrap around my waist and then we’re rocking against each other. It’s hot as hell. Even hotter because we’re at school and I can hear footsteps thumping up and down the hall outside the door.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” she says breathlessly.

“Probably not. But tell me to stop. I dare you.” I’m not going to have sex with her, but I can’t keep my hands off of her, and I know I can make her feel good. I’m totally putting her first—just not in the way her dad wants. Screw Steve, though.

She laughs again.

I slip my hand under her skirt and wink at her. “Gotta love the easy access.”

That gets me a startled snicker.

“What?” I ask with a frown.

“Don’t worry about it.” She grins widely, then squeaks in pleasure when my fingers find her.

Rather than push me away, she arches into my greedy hand. Her hands are equally greedy, undoing the buttons of my dress shirt.

“Need to touch you,” she mumbles.

I’m not complaining. The feel of her small, warm palms on my bare chest sends a jolt of heat up my spine. We’ve never fooled around at school before, but Steve is making it really fucking hard to see each other outside of it. He hasn’t let me come over to the hotel even once since he moved Ella out of the mansion.

Our kisses get sloppier, more frantic. I slide a finger inside her and groan against her mouth. I want to get her off before class so she’ll be thinking about me all day. Maybe I’ll do it again at lunch, take her to the bathroom that Wade dubbed the Hook-Up Zone and—

The door flies open and light suddenly floods the room.

Ella and I break apart, but not fast enough. The tall, gray-haired music teacher in the doorway gets an eyeful of my hand flying out from under Ella’s skirt. Of my half-open shirt and our swollen lips.

He sighs in disapproval, then snaps, “Fix yourselves up. You’re going to see Beringer.”

Shit.

T
he headmaster calls our parents
. I’m fuming when Dad and Steve stalk into the waiting room outside Beringer’s office, because, come on. Since when does Beringer call in the big guns over a couple kids making out in school? It happens every other minute. Wade has
sex
here, for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t take long for understanding to dawn on me, though. Because the first thing Steve does after he storms in is shake Beringer’s hand and say, “Thank you for calling me. I feared something like this might happen.”

In the chair beside mine, Ella is beet red. She’s clearly embarrassed, but there’s fire in her eyes, too. Anger. Like me, she knows that Steve is responsible for this. He must’ve warned the faculty to keep an eye out for us.

“Get up,” Steve tells Ella. “You’re coming home with me.”

She bursts out with an objection. “No! You can’t take me out of school again. I’m not missing any more classes, Steve.”

His tone is like ice. “You had no problem missing class before. Francois says you were ten minutes late for first period.”

Ella falls silent.

Dad is unusually quiet, too. He’s watching me with an indescribable expression. It doesn’t look like disapproval or disappointment. I can’t figure it out at all.

“This kind of behavior is unacceptable,” Steve fumes. “This is a place of learning.”

“Yes, it is,” Beringer agrees coldly. “And I assure you, Mr. O’Halloran, these kinds of shenanigans won’t be tolerated.”

My jaw drops. “Really? But letting Jordan Carrington duct-tape a freshman to the front entrance is A-OK?”

“Reed,” my father warns.

I spin toward him. “What? You know I’m right. Jordan freaking
assaulted
another student, and he”—I rudely gesture at the headmaster—“totally let it slide. Ella and I are caught making out like two normal teenagers and—”

“Normal teenagers?” Steve echoes with a harsh laugh. “You’ve got a plea hearing this week, Reed! You’re facing a murder charge.”

Frustration shoots through me. Christ. I don’t need the reminder. I’m well aware of how screwed I am right now.

Then I register what he’d said. “What plea hearing?” I ask my dad.

His features go strained. “We’ll discuss it when you get home from school.”

“You can discuss it on your way home,” Beringer interjects, “because I’m suspending Reed for two days.”

“What the fuck?” I demand angrily.

“Language,” the headmaster snaps. “And you heard me. Two-day suspension.” He glances at Steve. “Ella can remain at school, if that’s acceptable to you.”

After a long, tense moment, Steve nods. “It’s acceptable. As long as he’s not here, I’m all right with letting her stay.”

Steve says
he
like I’m a carrier for Ebola or some shit. I don’t get it. I really don’t. Steve and I never had any problems in the past. We weren’t close, but there was no hostility between us. Now, the air is so hostile I can hardly breathe.

“Then it’s settled.” Beringer walks around his desk. “Mr. Royal, I’m releasing Reed into your custody. Ella, you may return to class.”

She hesitates, but when Steve offers a hard glare, she quickly moves to the door. Right before she walks out, she gives me the most miserable, frustrated look on the planet. I’m pretty sure I’m wearing the same expression.

Once she’s gone, Steve shifts his scowl to me. “Stay away from my daughter, Reed.”

“She’s my girlfriend,” I reply through clenched teeth.

“Not anymore. I asked you to respect her, and when I thought you were going to do so, I was open to the idea of the two of you dating. After what happened this morning, I’m no longer on board with it.” He addresses my father. “Our kids just broke up, Callum. If I see or hear of them together again, you and I are going to have words.”

Then he marches out of the office and slams the door behind him.

F
or the second
day in a row, I go to school angry. Yesterday, Steve and Dinah ganged up on me about my skirt. Today, Reed is suspended because Steve has some kind of parental stick up his ass. The single good thing about my anger at Steve is that I don’t have the emotional energy to worry about Dinah any longer.

I can’t believe he ordered Beringer to tell all the teachers to narc on us. That is
so
not cool. I’m still fuming about it as I pull into the parking lot. Luckily, I spot Val on the front lawn, which distracts me from my rage.

“Hey, sexy,” I shout out my window.

Her dark bob spins around, her middle finger ready. When she realizes it’s me, she jogs over. “Hey! I was worried about you. Did you have to deal with the never-ending lecture when you got home from school yesterday?”

I maneuver into an empty parking space, then turn off the car. “You have no idea.”

She already knows all about yesterday’s stupidity because I spent the entire lunch period bitching about it. Then I wrapped it up by griping and moaning for a good ten minutes about how I won’t be able to go to the away game and seduce Reed. And have sex for the first time!

“What happened?” Val asks as I grab my backpack and hop out of the driver’s seat.

“There was a lot of arguing, shouting, insults thrown. It ended with Steve telling me that I needed to stop being so easy. That guys didn’t find it attractive.”

Val grimaces. “Wow, that’s harsh.”

“It’s getting so bad, I’m actually thinking I need to spend more time at school.”

“It can’t be that bad,” she says, knowing my great aversion to joining anything here at Astor. “It just seems bad because you’re not used to having a parent who imposes rules and stuff. From what you’ve told me, your mom was the kid in your household, and Callum kind of lets his boys do anything they want as long as they don’t make too big of a mess.”

“So you’re saying that Steve’s behavior is normal?” I challenge.

Val shrugs. “It’s not that abnormal. I think your mom and Callum are more lenient than other parents.”

“You have parties at your house. And you don’t have a curfew.”

She laughs. “Well, sure I do. I have to be home by ten on school nights and midnight on the weekends unless I tell Uncle Mark or Aunt Kathy first. And I wouldn’t be allowed to have a boy spend the night. It was easy to fool around with Tam because he lived in the same house.” Tam is the Carringtons’ housekeeper’s son. “I think most parents don’t allow boys to sleep over. I mean, why do you think Wade has so much sex at school? His mom is kind of strict at home.” She pats me on the shoulder. “Steve might be going overboard, but it just means that he cares. Don’t take it personally.”

Is she right? I mean, I have almost no experience with normal parents, but here’s Valerie, who I presume does, telling me that Steve’s reaction is...well, ordinary. Am I overreacting?

Maybe. But still, I don’t see myself ever being okay with all these rules and shit.

“Even if that’s normal, I don’t want to live like that,” I admit as we walk into the building.

“Ride it out,” she recommends. “You’re both so new at this. You’re a kid and Steve’s trying to be the adult. You’re bound to have clashes. I bet you’ll figure something out.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m seventeen.”

“Ha. That’s where you’re wrong. My mom always says that no matter how old I get, I’ll always be her baby. That’s just how parents are.” She nudges my shoulder with hers. “Honestly, I think it’s pretty cool that he came back from the dead. You’re not alone anymore.”

The thing is, I didn’t
feel
alone before Steve came along. And that’s the piece that’s missing for me. He’s not filling something inside of me that was empty. The Royals were already there, and Steve’s trying to push someone out to make room for himself.

Val must read the skepticism on my face. “Don’t break your head obsessing about this. You should go to him with a counteroffer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Steve doesn’t want you hanging around with Reed because why?”

“He says Reed’s a dog.”

Val tips her head back and stares at the sky as if praying for patience. “Honey, Steve is totally being a dad.”

I feel the need to defend Reed, again. It seems like I’m always defending him. “Maybe Reed was a dog before, but he’s not with me. Besides, he’s not like Easton. He doesn’t sleep around. He’s picky.”

Val opens her mouth to respond, but before she gets anything out, the bell rings. “Hold that thought. Meet me in the south bathroom at lunch? We’ll talk more.”

“The south bathroom?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“It’s the one by the boys’ locker room. Wade always does his business there.”

With that, she’s gone, leaving me to wonder if I’m the unreasonable one.

T
he moment
the lunch bell rings, I make a stop at my locker to shove my books inside, then hurry toward the south bathroom. It takes me about ten minutes to find it, because this school is so ridiculously big.

Pushing open the door, I stop abruptly at the sight of the full bathroom—there are about six girls in here. Val’s putting on lipstick in front of the far sink, and I quickly make my way to her.

“Why is it so crowded?” I hiss under my breath. “I thought Wade has sex in here.”

“In the boys’ room.” She smacks her cherry-red lips together. “This is the girls’ bathroom.”

“Right.” Duh. For some reason I thought we were having a private powwow.

“Dance team is having extra rehearsals for the away game performance. Apparently Gibson High is their main rival in state dance competitions,” Val explains, tucking the lipstick into her purse. “Anyway, I’ve been giving this some thought, and I think what you need to do is go to Callum. Have Callum work it on your behalf.”

“I don’t think that’s going to make a difference. Callum already told Steve that I should live with the Royals, and Steve gave him the look of death and dragged me out by my hair.”

Val’s mouth twitches. “By your hair?”

“Okay, maybe not by my hair, but it felt like it.”

“I was just kidding. I like seeing you get all angsty over hooking up with Reed. Sometimes you come off so together, it’s intimidating.” She pauses. “What’s Steve’s weakness?”

I meet her reflection in the mirror. “What do you mean?”

“When I want something from my aunt, she likes to see a sacrifice. So let’s say I want to go to a concert. I’ll tell her I’m studying super hard, doing extra work around the house, essentially laying the groundwork for what a fucking awesome kid I am. And
then
I’ll ask for the concert tickets.”

“Does she know you’re manipulating her?” I ask.

“Of course. It’s our game. She gets to see me being responsible and that gives her warm fuzzies, and then I’m rewarded for my sacrifice.”

“My dad likes it when I write him a paper justifying all the reasons I want something,” some girl next to me chimes in.

I glare at her in the mirror, but she’s unfazed. Or maybe she can’t tell I’m glaring because she’s busy putting on mascara.

“My mom needs to hear it’s okay from ten other moms before she says yes,” another girl near the door says.

I flick an irritated gaze toward Val at how all these girls are up in my business. She merely smiles, mischief glinting in her eyes.

“What do you want?” the girl by the door asks. I think her name is Hailey.

The blonde next to me grins. “She wants Reed, right?”

My first reaction is pure discomfort. I don’t like discussing my personal issues with strangers. But the two girls actually look...friendly.

So I sigh and lean against the sink. “I want to go to the away game, but my…” It’s hard saying the word, but I spit it out. “My father won’t let me.”

“He’s being overprotective?” the blonde guesses.

“Making up for lost time, probably,” Hailey suggests.

“Oh right!” the blonde exclaims. “Your dad’s Steve O’Halloran. I forgot about his grand resurrection.”

Val snickers.

“Yeah, he’s definitely making up for lost time,” Blondie agrees.

Val leans around me. “See?” She pokes me lightly. “This is all normal.”

“It totally is,” Hailey agrees. “My dad freaked out when he found a condom in my car. My mom took me to the clinic the next day and put me on birth control. She told me to hide that shit and be more careful next time.”

“But it’s your body,” I point out.

She sidles over. “Your dad is going to want to control you until you’re fifty. My oldest sister is twenty six, has a law degree, and when she came home for Christmas with her boyfriend, my parents made him sleep in the basement. Dads are the worst when it comes to sex.”

“Ella doesn’t have a mom to run interference,” Blondie reminds everyone.

I shift awkwardly again. It’s so messed up that everyone at this school knows my business.

Hailey taps her chin. “Doesn’t Katie Pruett live with only her dad?”

“Yeah, she does,” a curly-haired brunette says as she leans against the door of the fourth stall. “And she’s totally having sex with Colin Trenthorn. They’ve been doing it since she was a soph.”

“Does her dad know?”

“I think he pretends he doesn’t know, but she’s on birth control so he has to have some idea.”

“My mom told my dad that my birth control was for my period,” Hailey says, “so maybe Katie used that excuse, too.”

“I don’t need an excuse to go on birth control,” I tell them. “I’ve been on it since I was fifteen.” Because I actually did have terrible cramps, not just because my mother was worried about the pregnancy thing. “I need an excuse to get out of town overnight.”

“Say you’re staying with a friend.”

“And hide in the car while the game’s going on? That’s not going to work,” Val says impatiently. “Everyone knows the Royals, and someone is bound to mention that they saw Ella at the game.”

A sympathetic murmur spreads through the bathroom.

“Not to mention that Callum will definitely be there and probably rat me out to Steve,” I remind them. I’m not sure why I’m suddenly okay with all of these girls offering me advice, but I am. It feels weirdly welcoming in some way.

Before anyone can come up with a workable solution, the bell rings. Everyone’s heads pop up and there’s a flurry of activity as the girls jostle each other to get their makeup reapplied and their stuff packed away.

“We’ll think of something,” Hailey says on her way out. About six girls stream out after her, all of them waving goodbye to me.

“That was…” I trail off, my confused eyes focusing on Val.

“Fun? Helpful? Entertaining?” She grins. “Not everyone here is awful. Besides, now you know Steve’s behavior is completely normal. You just need to figure out how to work him.”

A little dazed, all I can do is nod. Okay then. I guess he
is
being normal.

“I tell my parents what they want to hear and then do my own thing,” a familiar voice offers coolly.

I spin around to see Jordan stepping out of a stall.

“Did you crawl out of the sewer or have you been there the whole time?” I accuse.

“Eavesdropping the whole time,” she says blithely. “So you want to have a little sexcation with Reed Royal, hmmm?”

I don’t answer her right away. This girl has disliked me from the moment I stepped foot onto Astor Park’s hallowed prep school grounds. When I was ordered to try out for the dance team, she left me a stripper’s uniform. I’m sure she meant for me to be too embarrassed to come out of the locker room, but I put on the gear, marched into the gym, and punched her in the face.

“Maybe,” I finally say.

“So you need my help.” She nudges Val out of the way and passes her hands under the automatic soap dispenser.

“No. I came to
Val
for help.”

Jordan scrubs her hands clean, shakes the excess water off, and then grabs a paper towel from the stack in the basket next to the sink.

“And Val’s here and so were six of my teammates, but you haven’t come up with a solution,” she says smugly. “Meanwhile, I have the perfect one.”

I doubt it, but her confident tone keeps my feet glued to the floor.

“Why would you help me?” I watch her with narrowed eyes, but I can’t read anything on her face. Damn, she’d be an impressive poker opponent.

She tosses the towel in the trash. “Because you’d owe me.”

Owe her? That sounds miserable. But…what if she really does have a solution to my problem?

“What would you want in return?” I ask suspiciously.

“A favor to be paid later.” She pulls out a little pot from her purse and dabs her perfect lips with shiny gloss.

I watch her, waiting for the rattler’s tail to sting me. “What favor?”

“I don’t know yet. Depends on what I’ll need from you.”

“Tell me your solution first.” I expect her to say no, but she surprises me.

“Sure.” She puts the lip gloss away. “You’re a good dancer. Layla Hansell sprained her ankle the other day jumping with her little sister on a trampoline. You can fill Layla’s spot on the team.”

“Shit.” That comes from Val.

Shit, indeed. It
is
the perfect solution. Steve wants me to do extracurricular stuff. Dancing is the only thing I’m capable of and somewhat interested in doing. The dance team’s going to travel to this playoff game, which means I can be on the field and sell Steve on the idea of spending time with Astor Park kids.

It’s diabolical how perfect this plan is.

Jordan smirks. “Let me know your answer by the end of the day. You can text Val. Bye now.”

She saunters out of the bathroom, her hair a dark ribbon streaming behind her.

“I hate her even more,” I say to Val.

“I don’t blame you.” My friend drapes an arm around my shoulders. “But damn, that’s a good excuse.”

“The best,” I say despondently. “The very best.”