Treacherous by Alex Grayson & Melissa Toppen Page 5

  I feel like I’m being punked. It’s like I stepped onto the set of another Mean Girls movie. I’m waiting for one of them to tell me that I have to wear pink on Wednesday’s.

  “I appreciate the offer, but I have a lot of schoolwork to catch up on. You know, first week and all.” I make the first excuse I can think of. Do I want to make more friends? Of course I do. Do I want friends like these girls? Hell no. I’ve known girls like these my whole life. Every school has them.

  “Oh, we totally get it.” Tiffany smiles. “Maybe another time?”

  “Sure. Absolutely,” I readily agree.

  “Awesome.”

  I watch her gaze lock onto something behind me, but before I can turn and look, I feel something cold and thick hit the top of my head and slowly trickle through my hair.

  What the…?

  I run a hand over the top of my head, feeling the thick mess of what I now realize is a milkshake. The three mean girls point and laugh and it doesn’t take long for several more sets of eyes to come my way—curious to know what’s going on.

  I feel heat flood my cheeks as I turn, locking eyes with another girl I recognize from math class—another friend of Tiffany’s.

  “Oops.” She laughs, looking from me to the empty cup in her hand and then back to me.

  “What the fuck, Amber?” I hear Pierce before I see him. He slides up next to me and quickly pulls me to my feet. “Come on.” He grabs my hand and tugs me through the cafeteria, people laughing and pointing as we pass them.

  My heart is hammering a million miles a minute, and I’m a thousand percent sure that my face is beat red. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck and spreading across my cheeks.

  I still haven’t processed what actually happened when Pierce pulls me into the closest restroom and leads me to the sink. I’m too confused and upset to point out that he’s a guy in the girl’s restroom. I think it’s kind of irrelevant at this point in time.

  When I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror as Pierce flips on the water, tears instantly fill my eyes. There’s milkshake everywhere. In my hair, on my shirt, dripping down my forehead.

  “What the hell happened out there?” Pierce asks, guiding me forward to try to rinse some of the sugary liquid from my hair.

  “I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “Tiffany and her friends came over to invite me to go shopping with them. Next thing I know, some girl is dumping a milkshake on my head.”

  “Fucking Tiffany.” He scrubs his hand over my scalp, water splashing me in the face as he does. “I should have known Oliver and Zayden would recruit the mean girl squad.”

  “You think they did this?” I ask, standing up abruptly, causing water to drain down my back and over my shoulders.

  “I don’t think. I know. Why else would Devens purposely stop me right before I got to the cafeteria to talk about some bullshit class I took two years ago? Because he knew I would know something was up the second those girls sat down at the table.”

  “Oh my God.” The words are lost to the pounding in my ears.

  “Come here.” He guides me back down, continuing to rinse my hair out.

  It takes nearly twenty minutes to get the milkshake out of my hair, and even then, there’s still parts that are clumped together and knotted—the pitfall of having extremely thick hair. My shirt is disgusting, covered in water and melted ice cream. And my face isn’t much better. My eyes are puffy and red, and even though I told myself I wouldn’t cry, within five minutes of being in the bathroom with Pierce tears started to pour. I couldn’t help it. I was humiliated in front of nearly the entire senior class. But once the embarrassment had passed, all I was left with was anger.

  “I’m going to murder him,” I tell Pierce as he follows me out of the bathroom. “I mean, straight suffocate him with a pillow in his sleep—dead.”

  “Slow down there, killer. Don’t go offing anyone just yet.” Pierce laughs, wrapping his fingers around my hand.

  Oliver and Zayden pick that exact moment to come around the corner, and while every single instinct I have is screaming attack, I freeze, rooted to the spot like someone super glued my feet to the floor.

  “Nice hair.” Oliver smiles. “You know, you’re supposed to drink the milkshake, right?”

  Zayden chokes on a laugh, giving me a quick once over. I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face as badly as I do at this very moment.

  “Let’s go,” Pierce says, tightening his grip on my hand.

  “You’re right.” I let out a heavy breath. “They aren’t worth it.”

  “They aren’t worth it,” Oliver mocks as we step around them. “See you at home, sis,” he calls as we make our way toward the rear entrance of the school where my car is parked.

  “You want me to come with you?” Pierce offers, walking me to my car.

  “No, there’s no reason for you to get in trouble for missing class. I’m just going to go home and take a very long shower. Maybe I’ll put some tacks in Oliver’s bed while I’m at it.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t poke the bear.”

  “Maybe they shouldn’t have poked me.” I unlock my car and tear the door open, tossing my book bag onto the passenger seat, before turning back to my friend. “Thank you for today. Had you not shown up when you did….” I trail off, knowing it would likely have ended up a lot worse.

  “Don’t mention it.” He pulls me to his chest and gives me a hug. “And don’t worry about the party tonight. Maybe we can just get together later this weekend and hang out. Grab some dinner and go see a movie. What do you say?”

  “Are Oliver and Zayden going to be at the party?” I ask, stepping out of his embrace.

  “That’s very likely.”

  “Then we’re going.”

  “You sure?” He gives me a questioning look.

  “If I run away and hide, they win. I’m not going to let them win.”

  “You have the biggest balls I’ve ever seen. Figuratively speaking of course.” He smiles. “Either that, or you have a death wish.”

  “Let’s go with the big balls theory.” I laugh, not sure how I’m so calm after the ordeal in the cafeteria. “You mind picking me up?”

  “It’d be my pleasure. Text me your address, and I’ll let you know what time I’ll be there.”

  “Sounds good.” I slide into the driver’s seat and close the door, rolling down the window the instant the engine purrs to life.

  “Be safe on your way home and try not to kill anyone before this evening.”

  “I’ll do my best.” I smile up at him as I pop the car into drive.

  Thank God for Pierce. He’s one of those people you can’t help but love. The kind of person you’re instantly drawn to. Good looking. Funny. Sweet. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him this past week. He has been a bright light in an otherwise dark room.

  On the drive home, I replay the events of the day over in my head. Starting with the altercation this morning, to Zayden shoving all my stuff off my desk, before ending with the milkshake fiasco. Well, at least I can say that my first week at the new school wasn’t boring.

  I give myself a silent applaud for how well I’m handling all of this. Okay, I was a serious mess earlier, but I’m better now. I didn’t punch anyone or claw their eyes out, and I managed to slip out of the building before anything else could happen—so there’s that.

  My thoughts drift back to Zayden. Oliver I understand. Well, I don’t really understand, but I guess I kind of do. He blames me for his dad’s actions because I’m the only person he can take it out on. Fine. It’s not okay, but whatever. But Zayden? I can’t help but wonder what he stands to gain from any of this. Is he really a bad guy, or is there something driving his actions—something behind the scenes that I’m not privy to?

  I’ve dealt with assholes before. Jerks. Bullies. You name it, I’ve crossed paths with them all at one point or another. And while Zayden definit
ely rocks the bad boy persona, he doesn’t strike me as someone who would orchestrate a milkshake being poured on someone’s head.

  Then again, maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself because that’s what I want to believe. I’m just not sure why that is.

  ZAYDEN

  TIPPING THE RED SOLO cup to my lips, I drain the rest of my beer. I lean back against the bar and cross my arms over my chest as I scan the room. We're all packed in here like a bunch of fucking sardines. Over half of the junior and senior class is here. How the hell anyone could think this is fun is beyond me.

  I spot Oliver with his face buried in the neck of some chick he has pressed against the wall. I’m assuming it’s Patty, judging by the girl with huge tits at his back. His hips press against Patty’s, while her cousin, Double D, grinds against his ass. It's disgusting to watch. But that's Oliver for you. He's all about having a good time and making the girls happy.

  Moving my eyes away from the threesome waiting to happen, I continue my perusal around the room. It's full of music, laughter, rich drunk girls vying for attention, and asshole guys who give it to them—whether they’re sober enough to receive it or not. These parties are always the same.

  Her overwhelmingly scent hits me seconds before I feel her tits press against my side, her hand going to my lower stomach.

  “Hey, Z baby,” Tiffany purrs in my ear.

  I grit my teeth and fight the urge to rub said ear against my shoulder to wipe away the hot and wet breath she left behind. Instead, I turn and face her.

  “How’s it going, Tiffany?”

  Her red lips tip up, revealing a set of bright as fuck teeth. “Much better now that I’ve found you.”

  “That so?” I ask, offering my signature smirk.

  She inches her hand down until the tip of her fingers tuck into the waistband of my jeans. My dick twitches, but that’s about it, only mildly curious.

  “It sure is.” She smiles bigger as her eyes grow hooded. “You wanna dance?”

  I look out across the room. There’s hardly any walking room, let alone enough space to dance.

  I glance back at Tiffany. “Maybe some other time.”

  She pouts, and it makes her look ridiculous with her plump lips sticking out even more. Tiffany’s a smokin’ hot chick with long blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, and a killer body any guy would give his left nut to fuck. The package is nice, but the contents inside are questionable.

  Of course, that questionable nature sure as hell comes in handy sometimes. I smirk when an image of Rylee with milkshake running down her face and hair comes to mind.

  My smirk dies a sudden death when I remember seeing her as she left the bathroom with Charles. Her face was red, and while some of it was from her anger directed at Oliver and me, I knew some was from crying. I have no fucking clue why the thought of her crying bothers me. Whatever the reason may be, I shove that shit to the back of my mind. People like Rylee don’t deserve my sympathy.

  Tiffany sidles up closer to me, practically melding her breasts into my side. “You wanna head upstairs then?”

  I put some thought into it. Her teeth may be a bitch to deal with, but I bet her pussy would feel like heaven. Even so, by the lack of blood not rushing to my dick, he doesn’t appear to be that interested. Which lines up with the head between my shoulders, too. The thought is only slightly interesting. It surely isn’t as appealing as sandwiching myself between a certain pair of legs that belong to a girl with luscious brown hair and deceiving brown eyes.

  “Not tonight.”

  Someone catches my eye, causing me to glance up. I mutter a silent curse and grit my teeth when she comes completely into view. My dick instantly hardens when I see what she’s wearing. A tight black leather skirt that’s entirely too short—if she bends over, there’s no doubt she’ll be flashing ass cheeks to half the school population—a silky light-blue shirt that hangs so far off one shoulder that the top of one breast is showing, and a pair of black fuck-me heels. Her hair is loosely swept up off her shoulders in some complicated bun, and her face is made up in some type of smoky look. It’s not over the top—it actually looks fucking hot—but it’s not the natural look she normally uses.

  Tiffany reasserts herself back into my thoughts when her fingers creep lower into my jeans, trying her best to get to my junk. I grab her wrist and yank her hand out. My expression is hard when I look down at her. My anger isn’t directed at her—it’s not her fault Rylee Harper decided to show up here. Unfortunately, Tiffany is closer to me than Rylee is.

  “I know you fucking heard me, Tiffany. I said, not tonight.” The words come out harsh, and I should probably feel remorse when hurt appears on her face, but I don’t. Tiffany is just like all the other girls in this room. They think if they push hard enough, show enough tit, grind their pussies against places they wish to visit, they’ll finally get their way. Most guys here will give in, but I’m not most guys.

  I let go of her wrist and leave her behind. My steps are long and purposeful as I stalk toward Rylee. I’m only a few feet away when I notice Charles at her side, which only heightens my anger. But what really pisses me off is the red Solo cup in her hand.

  I don’t stop my pursuit until I’m right in front of her. Her eyes widen in surprise before they quickly narrow into slits.

  I bend over so my face is right in hers. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl over the loud music.

  I have to admit, even if only to myself, I admire her bravery when she doesn’t back down or flinch at my tone.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m here to let loose and party,” she answers, her tone matching the ire in mine.

  “I highly doubt Terri invited you.” I sneer and rake my eyes up and down her body.

  I know for a fact Terri wouldn’t have invited Rylee. She knows of Oliver’s distaste for his new stepsister. She also knows there would be consequences if she went against him by inviting her.

  “The word around school was the party was an open invite to everyone.”

  “Everyone except you.”

  She scoffs, unphased by the blatant rejection of her. “Well then, she should have been more specific.”

  “No one wants you here, Rylee. Get the fuck out and go home.”

  “To hell with you, Zayden. I don’t see anyone else telling me to leave.” She looks around the room before bringing her eyes back to me. Mirth plays in their depths. “It seems to me you’re the only one that has a problem with me being here.”

  With that, she spins on her high heel, grabs a startled Charles’ hand, and stalks away.

  Boiling rage starts in my gut and sends lava through my veins. The bitch just won’t catch a clue. But she will.

  I look around and find Oliver in the same spot as before. Except, instead of being immersed with Patty and her cousin, his face is hard as he watches Rylee and Charles cross into the center of the room and start dancing. My rage intensifies when she throws one arm around his shoulder and grinds down on his leg that’s between hers. She laughs and tips the cup to her lips, swallowing down half the contents.

  I glance back at Oliver and find his eyes on me. I tip my chin at him, and he detangles himself from his entourage and walks off.

  I leave Oliver to do whatever he plans to do and make my way over to Rylee and Charles.

  I don’t give them time to notice me before I snatch Rylee by the wrist and drag her behind me. She digs in her heels, but it doesn’t stop me.

  “What are you doing, Zayden?” she screeches. “Let me go.”

  When I don’t comply, she yanks her wrist away from my grip so hard I know a mark will be left behind.

  I spin around and grit out, “Outside. Now.”

  “No.”

  I step closer. “Either you go outside with me willingly, or I’ll toss you over my shoulder. Either way, you’re going. I need to talk to you.”

  Pretty Boy Charles moves to her side, steppin
g slightly in front of her. “Just calm the hell down, Z.”

  “Back the fuck up, Charles,” I warn. “This isn’t your business.”

  Although he doesn’t back down, I see the wariness in his eyes. “Rylee’s my friend, so it is my business. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

  I get in his face, ready to plow my fist into his jaw, when Rylee steps between us. She puts a hand on both of our chests and shoves us away from each other. The party around us quiets down several decimals and the dance floor begins to clear.

  “That’s enough,” Rylee inserts with a firm voice. She turns to Charles. “I’ll be okay. I’m just going to step outside to see what he wants. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  He looks at her with concern. “You don’t have to.” He narrows his eyes at me. “This prick can go fuck himself.”

  I wouldn’t call Charles a pussy—he normally stays in the background—but I’ve seen him face off with a couple guys before. He’s just never done it to anyone in the crowds I run with. Even so, he’s a hell of a lot smaller than I am, and brave as fuck to stand up to me. I’d hate to fuck up his pretty face, but if he doesn’t calm his shit that’s exactly what I’ll do.

  “I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to.” She smiles, but even I can tell it’s forced. “Why don’t you grab us another drink while you wait.”

  The muscles in his jaw bunch as he grinds his teeth. His eyes flicker from Rylee to me, then back to Rylee. “Fine. But all I’m giving you is five minutes. That’s it, Rylee.”

  If it wasn’t so ludicrous to think he could actually take me, I’d laugh in his face. Man points to him for being willing to have his ass handed to him.

  Rylee turns to me, and the look in her eyes would scare the shit out of most grown men. To me, it’s just amusing. I bare my teeth in a faux smile and hold my arm out toward the front door. “Lead the way.”

  She huffs as she stomps away, and fuck if my eyes don’t go straight down to watch her ass move with attitude. My cock stiffens, and I mentally berate the traitor as I follow her.

  Get with the program, you prick. We don’t like her.