“I do not h-h-have to take o-o-orders from you anymore. Not now that I belong solely to Aeron. I may r-r-re-refuse you and I may not be alone with a Harkwright without y-y-you getting Aeron’s written permission first.” I jerk my head free of his grip and push away from the pool’s edge.
“You were alone with Maddox.” His smile is almost sinister, and I don’t like it, mainly because I’m scared about what it means for my sweet friend.
“I have permission,” Maddox calls from the door, before running off when Emmet spins around and roars. There’s no other word for it, it’s too low to be a scream, but a shout doesn’t quite do the sound justice.
“That is a minor technicality and I will rectify it,” he says through clenched teeth, narrowing his gaze on me, and all I can do is turn from him and swim away. It feels empowering to tell Emmet no. I look forward to doing it again. Hopefully next time, I won’t stutter.
It’s been three days since I told Emmet no and a toxic atmosphere has taken over the place. No girl has been chosen to go to his room, he’s barely set foot within the mess hall and when he has… well, not even the men have been safe from his anger.
“What did you do to him?” D asks over dinner and I don’t miss the way others seem to lean toward us, begging for any morsel of information I can give.
“I told him no,” I say, as I push my food around my plate, but I don’t say it quietly. What’s the point in trying to keep my voice down?
“You are such a liar. No one would say no to the Prince,” One shouts from the top girls’ table and I don’t see any point in defending myself. What do I care if they believe me or not?
“I agree, you are so full of shit,” comes from Twenty as she wraps an arm around Emily, who’s shooting daggers at me.
A hush suddenly descends as the doors open, and Emmett walks in with Tucker and Tom beside him. I keep my head down, but I can’t seem to stop my eyes from tracking their movements.
Tucker has a scowl firmly set on his face and he’s looking right at our table. I don’t know what I’ve done to anger him, but I’m sure he’ll get over it, eventually. Tom just looks bored, but he always does, even when he’s pounding into a girl from behind, he still has that same look on his face. Does nothing excite him? Why am I thinking this? Emmet, however, he looks… like the cat who finally got the cream. And now I can feel myself starting to shake, and my hands are turning clammy.
D takes one of my hands in hers and rolls her shoulders back as they slowly make their way toward our table, and I don’t know what’s about to happen. The fact all three of them are coming over can’t be a good sign.
He walks over with purpose, leans one hand on the table and then slams a piece of paper down with the other. His smirk is well and truly in place, and I’m struggling to believe I ever spent any time with Liam. He really is gone, and I can feel that loss bone deep.
“Signed permission from Aeron himself. Now, get up and come with me.” His smirk falls as a laugh bursts free and even D is looking at me as though I’ve lost my mind. Heh, maybe I have.
“No.” I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but I can’t help it. Damn, it feels good saying no to that self-entitled dick.
Tucker is smirking and I think my answer has made him happy, although I’m probably wrong. It’s hard to get a read on this guy, and Tom… well, he still looks bored. Emmet, however, looks like he’s about to blow and I’m not planning on sticking around to witness the fallout.
Nausea is bubbling up inside, even though I’m trying to act as though I’m not scared or filled with regret that I may have just made a big mistake. I shouldn’t poke the bear.
“Come on, D. Let’s go bake something,” I say as I rise to my feet, and Emmet is getting redder and redder in the face.
“I have the written permission. What the fuck do you mean no?” His voice promises dark things to come, and a shiver passes through me as I link my arm with D’s and step around the table.
“If you c-c-clench your jaw any h-harder, you will break it. Also, you may have Aeron’s consent, but that d-d-doesn’t mean I have to say y-yes. Remember, Emmet,” I draw in a deep breath, trying to keep myself from stuttering anymore, “I don’t have to take orders from you. So, if I want to say no, then that’s what I’ll do.” I hold my head up high as I pull D out of the mess hall, and I don’t fall apart until we make it to the kitchens.
My heart is hammering against my chest and I can’t seem to draw enough air into my lungs, my entire body is shaking, and my stomach feels as though it’s about to revolt.
“It’s okay, just breathe through it. You’ll be okay,” D says as she strokes my back, but it isn’t helping. I’m feeling light-headed and her face looks terrified.
“What’s happening?” I gasp out, and she crouches beside me as I fall down to my knees.
“I think you’re having a panic attack. I’m sorry, Lu, I don’t know what to do.”
She sounds as though she’s on the verge of tears as a voice says, “I do.”
One minute, I’m struggling to breathe and the next… I’m being kissed. I’m not kissing him back. To be fair, I can’t even think right now. None other than Tom fucking Harkwright is kissing me. He pulls away and my eyes are on his and everything seems to come back into focus, the way one of his hands is cupping the back of my neck. The taste of him on my lips, and the fact that he no longer looks bored.
“Why did you do that?” It comes out on a whisper, but I can breathe again and it feels as though I’ve got through the worst of it.
“When I had a panic attack, holding my breath helped to settle it for me. I didn’t think instructions would register for you, so I did the next best thing. You held your breath when I kissed you.” He releases me and stands up before offering me his hand.
I can’t help but look at it for a moment, before accepting the help and he pulls me to my feet. He doesn’t release my hand until I’m standing strong, and D finally snaps her mouth shut and rushes to my side.
“Should she go to the medical center?” she asks, and Tom stares right at me before shaking his head.
“No, she’ll be fine now. Just keep an eye on her and find me if Emmet tries anything stupid.”
“Why were you standing with him? I thought he was your least favorite person,” D states, and he grinds his teeth before focusing his stare on her.
“It doesn’t matter, Daria, but what makes you think I was there for him?” He gives us one last cursory look before leaving the kitchen.
I stare down at my shaking hands before declaring, “Let’s make a coffee cake.”
D gives me a strange look, but she doesn’t argue. We spend the next hour getting covered in flour and trying to keep me thoroughly distracted.
3
Retreat For The Elite
“I can’t believe they brought the retreat forward. I need more time to prepare myself for it.” Yes, I’m whining. But what else can I do?
“The men are unpredictable, but this has Senior written all over it. You’ll be okay, homegirl, I’ll be right there with you,” D says as she goes through my suitcase to make sure I have everything I need and it’s within the guidelines. I really can’t wait until I can pick my own clothes again.