I never thought I’d see the day… but I could see it clearly now. She was right where she was always supposed to be.
Harleigh had always been too good for The Row. Too pure and innocent, she had never truly fit in here. It’s one of the reasons I’d taken her under my wing. Because I was made for a place like The Row. Born from it. Dredged up from the bottom of its soulless depths and spat out.
Not Harleigh Wren though.
Over the years, when her gaze would linger a little too long, or the lust in her eyes would burn too brightly, I’d tried to tell myself that maybe our stories were the same. That maybe we had a future… together. Outside of Zane and Kye, she was my best friend. My ride or die. The only girl in the world I could ever imagine sharing my life with.
But deep down, I knew we were too different.
She would make it out of The Row one day, and she would fucking flourish. Spread her wings and fly. While I would stay here and rot.
“Nix?” Zane nudged my shoulder. “You okay?”
“What?” I ran a hand down my face. “Yeah, I’m good.”
The three of them watched me with a mix of doubt and concern in their eyes. When Harleigh had left last year, I hadn’t handled things well.
“Do you want me to see what else I can find out?” Chloe asked.
“Why?” I snapped, my voice as cold as ice.
“I-I guess I thought… It doesn’t matter.”
“Seriously, Clo,” Kye jumped in, and I inhaled a sharp breath, forcing air into my lungs. “Do I even want to know how you know all of this? Don’t tell me you’re hanging out with someone across—”
“Relax, big brother.” She smirked. “I’m not committing an act of treachery. Brianne got a job working at Crêpe-a-licious. It’s popular with the DA crew. She heard some kids talking, and well, I asked her to listen out and… I can see that was a bad idea.”
Their gazes shifted to me again and I scowled. “What? I said I’m fine.”
“Oh, you look fine, man. You look totally fine.” Kye snorted.
“Fuck you, asshole.” I flipped him off.
“Crazy bitch alert,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes going over my shoulder.
“Hey, baby.” Cherri’s voice made the hairs along my neck stand to attention, and not in a good way. She ran her hands up my arms and leaned down to whisper, “I missed you Saturday night.”
“Cherri,” I said, twisting slightly, forcing her to back up.
“How was practice?” she asked. “Did you miss me?”
Someone—Kye most likely—snickered. Cherri’s head whipped around and she pinned my friends with her trademark death stare. “Why don’t you three run along and give me and Nix some alone time. He looks a little stressed out and I can help with that.”
“Here, really?” Chloe balked. “Classy, Cher, really damn classy.” She turned her attention to me. “Please tell me you’re not actually going to let her—”
“Okay, little bit.” Kye clapped a hand over her mouth. “Time for you to go.” He wrestled her out of her seat and threw me an apologetic glance. I tipped my chin, grateful he was getting Chloe out of here before Cherri’s claws came out.
“Chloe Carter needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”
“She’s family. Don’t even think about it,” I said coolly.
Cherri straddled the bench and walked her hands up my thighs. “Still needs to learn to keep her mouth shut. Don’t you have places to be?” she asked Zane, not bothering to look at him.
“Actually, I think I’m good here.” His eyes narrowed to deadly slits.
“Nix, tell your guard dog to go bark somewhere else.”
“Listen Cher.” I cleared my throat, really wanting to avoid one of her outbursts in the middle of the school cafeteria.
She slid closer, pressing her finger to my lips. Hooking one arm around my neck, she dipped her head and ran her tongue up the side of my neck, biting down on my ear. “We’re good together, Nix. You know we are. I can be what you need.” Her hand slipped between our bodies, palming my dick through my jeans. Heat flashed inside of me because, well, I was a guy, and she knew how the fuck to touch me.
Zane grumbled something and said, “I’m outta here.”
I went to tell him not to leave me, but Cherri grabbed my face and slammed her lips down on mine.
Kissing the shit out of me.
Harleigh
“Well, well, if it isn’t Wilder’s pet.”
My spine stiffened, my skin vibrating with an overwhelming mix of anger and sadness.
Wilder’s pet.
Wilder’s pet.
Wilder’s pet.
The words were caught on loop in my mind.
His pet.
His pet.
Nix’s pet.
His—
“Don’t be an ass, Marc,” Celeste said, shooting me an apologetic smile.
It was lunch. I’d survived three periods, kept my head down, and ignored the constant stares and muffled whispers. But I couldn’t ignore this.
Discarding my half-eaten salad, I twisted around and looked up at Marc Denby, one of DA’s biggest douchebags. My stomach curled, every inch of me vibrating, but I tamped it down and focused on the guy looming over me.
“Sorry,” I said flatly. “Did you say something?”
“Harleigh,” Celeste hissed under her breath, but if she thought I was going to cower just because a bully like Marc Denby was standing before me with a wicked glint in his eye, she was sorely mistaken.
Even if the gnawing pit in my stomach threatened to consume me.
“You heard me, bitch.” He snarled. “You think just because daddy decided to pull you out of The Row and—”
“Hey,” Celeste’s best friend Miles appeared. “What’s going on?”
“Marc was welcoming Harleigh to DA,” Celeste said in a saccharine tone laced with warning.
“Yeah, relax, Mulligan. I was offering Harleigh a warm welcome. Isn’t that right?” His eyes drilled into mine, daring me to speak up and out him. But I wasn’t looking to play games—with Marc or anyone else.
“Yeah,” I said. “Marc was doing his good deed of the day.”
His jaw clenched, and I suppressed a smug smile. Miles sat down at our table, keeping one eye on Marc, who eventually left mumbling something about practice.
“He is such a douchebag,” Celeste said.
“What did he really say?” Miles asked.
“It doesn’t matter.” I glanced back, and sure enough, Marc was glaring right at me. His eyes seemed to say, ‘Watch your back, bitch.’ But his icy reception didn’t surprise me. In fact, there was something oddly comforting about the fact that he remembered who I was and where I came from.
I didn’t want special treatment because I was Michael Rowe’s daughter. Even if he was one of the largest donors to DA. Especially because he was.
What I really wanted was to blend in and be left alone, but I guess that was never going to happen. My arrival at The Rowe-Delacorte household was the hot topic on everyone’s lips. After all, it wasn’t every day a kid got plucked from The Row and thrown into DA even if she had spent the last six months in a facility on the outskirts of Albany. Of course, that wasn’t common knowledge. It would be most unbecoming for Michael Rowe’s daughter to be an emotionally unstable nut job. So to the outside world, I’d spent the remainder of my junior year in Albany with my grandparents, Thomas and Geraldine, coming to terms with my grief from losing my mother in such dire circumstances.