“Fuck off, Steele,” he grumbles.
“Get your shit together, Cal! We don’t need him breathing down our backs,” I growl turning to face my brother, Cal.
“It’s not just his grades, Steele. You boys are stirring up shit with your undercover searching that isn’t as secretive as you think it is,” Ray tells me.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Now my anger is directed back at him.
“It means your dad knows you’re looking into the shit with the Macron family history.” That has us all stopping in our tracks.
“What’s he care?” Knox asks stepping closer to the desk. Ray looks around making sure no one is within hearing distance before he walks around the desk crossing his arms over his chest.
“You know why he cares. There’s a reason that those things are kept secret, Steele.” He always directs shit at me since I’m the oldest.
“And? If he wants us to handle things accordingly, we need to know these things. It would be a shit ton easier if he would just tell us,” I remind him.
“Well, tonight might be your chance. He’s on his way back to Rolling Springs.”
“What for?” Callan asks standing up straighter. We all know that when Dad comes around, shit usually gets bad and involves us.
“Don’t know, don’t care. He said he wants to see you all at the house at seven after practice.” Knox huffs out a breath that I understand all too well. No one is in the mood to deal with our dad tonight. We have games coming up and need to practice.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, turning and heading toward the door.
“Don’t you dare think about it. Show your ass up, Steele!” Flipping him off over my shoulder, I step back into the hallway with my brothers right behind me.
“What do you think this shit is?”
“How the hell do I know. Why don’t you get your shit together and get your grades up before it’s all of our asses on the line, Callan!” My father has made it very clear that we are all to graduate college here with a degree in business. The problem is, none of us really give a shit about the business. We like the dark side of things, the back side that not many know about. We like getting our hands dirty. I don’t see myself ever working in an office the way my father does. Callan maybe, but not me or Knox. Nevertheless, if we want our share of the income we have to do as he says.
“Fuck off,” he roars before walking away.
“Why do you like pissing him off?”
“I don’t. I like my money, that’s it. Callan is fucking around and going to get us all in trouble if he doesn’t pull his head out of Sandra’s ass.”
“Jealous, Steele? Oh, shit. You are huh?” Knox asks.
“Of Sandra? Fuck no. I could fuck her in the hall closet just like high school.”
“You didn’t?” His face is full of interest now. His blue eyes light up like a Christmas tree.
“The fuck I didn’t. Right down the ninth hall, man.” Slapping a hand on his shoulder, he laughs loudly as I turn and walk away when I see her. Tricia. She rushes toward me as she covers her lips in lip gloss. I want to roll my eyes but then I wouldn’t be getting any pussy later. Instead, I let her push up against me, pressing her freshly glossed lips to mine.
“Where have you been?”
“Talking to Coach. Why?”
“Why are you always so short with me?” She flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she stares me down.
“You’re too damn needy. That’s why,” I say as I try to walk past her. I don’t get far which I already figured.
“You used to like it when I needed you.”
“No, you thought I liked it,” I remind her as she falls into step next to me. That’s when I notice a girl I’ve never seen before standing outside with a cigarette between her lips. I tilt my head to the side and study her a second. There’s no smoking allowed on campus but that doesn’t mean that us guys couldn’t do it. We can do anything.
“Who is she?” Tricia asks as she pulls her lipstick out of her purse.
“Don’t know. I’m about to find out.” Moving away from Tricia quickly, I walk out the side door and straight toward the girl. When I’m close enough, I grab the cigarette from her fingers, bringing it to my lips and inhaling. She looks up at me, light brown eyes bordering on the edge of anger.
“Didn’t your mother teach you not to take things from others?” she asks cocking her head to the side to stare up at me.
“No. Actually, she taught me I should play nicely with others.”
“And you think this is playing nicely?” I inhale another long drag before flicking it to the ground. Leaning down so I’m eye level with her, I blow the smoke in her face.
“One thing you will learn around here, new girl, is that we don’t play nicely. Ever.”
3
Whisper
I make my way to the dance studio, yes, a dance studio in the damn academy. I was lucky to get into this class to begin with and the fact that I’m late isn’t going to sit well with these uptight teachers. Not like I could have been on time in this giant ass maze of a school anyhow. As soon as I step in, everyone in the class stares.
“You must be Miss Sullens,” the teacher says as she looks me up and down. I don’t miss the look in her eye either. They aren’t used to seeing people like me, apparently. Where most of the girls here wear fancy designer clothes, I’m walking around in torn jeans, combat boots and a band tee shirt.
“That’s me,” I say shoving my hands in my pockets.
“You’re late. I don’t appreciate you showing up to my class late,” she snaps. I nod my head and walk to the corner of the room making sure to stand behind the other students. It isn’t until the music starts playing that another guy walks in. He’s tall, looks a lot like the one that took my cigarette earlier. Prick. He grins at the teacher and I watch as she just scowls back. That’s when his eyes come to stop on me. His head tilts as he takes me in much the same as I’m doing to him. Then he moves. Right toward me as I uncap my water and take a long pull.
When he stops in front of me, I know we’re going to have an issue. I can see the look in his eyes. He reaches up and takes my water from my hand bringing it to his lips, my mouth drops open. I reach up and snatch the bottle out of his hand causing some of to spill down his chin. He smiles and my heart nearly stops. Two dimples peek out of his cheeks.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he says, his tone sexual as hell. He drips sex appeal just like that other one but in a different way. Where this one is clearly a little friendlier, the other was dark and brooding.
“I’m not known for being nice. And to be honest, I don’t know why you men around here think you can take whatever you want.” Finding myself talking back to something as gorgeous as this man is a little strange.
“What does that mean?” he asks clearly intrigued by my words. I want to roll my eyes and walk away but there’s something in his stare that makes me stay. Or maybe it’s just the stupid side of me.
“It means first my cigarette and now my water. You men need to rethink who it is you’re messing with,” I add with a slight growl in my tone.