Wicked Boys Page 5

  “What are we going to do?” Chase asks Adrian, but he shrugs his shoulders. “I thought you wanted to take off.”

  “I did once upon a time,” Adrian replies, staring at the empty bottle. “But that was before our family filth extended past LA. ”

  “We could still take off,” says Chase, “Not every town is Hollywood. A lot of people don’t give a shit about what happens here. LA is not the world.”

  “It’s our world. People care when your parents are accused of being pimps,” replies Adrian. “Unfortunately, we have to stay put and wait it out.” Adrian reaches over and places his hand on Chase’s shoulder. A meaningful look of love and empathy passes between them. They’ll rely on each other and no one else.

  “Give me your key card,” says Adrian, “and I’ll pack up some of your stuff. You can spend a few nights with me and get a break from here.”

  “I’ll do it.” I step forward with my hand outstretched. “I won’t get hassled. Not as much.”

  Chase hesitates, but when Adrian gives him a stern look, he hands me his key card. “It’s really the least I can do since I started this mess.” I barely look at them as I speak.

  Adrian frowns at me as I put on my hoodie and cover my face with my sunglasses. He doesn’t get why I blame myself. Chase mustn’t have told him. It’s an awkward moment, but I’ll ride it out. But Chase doesn’t let it pass and tells Adrian.

  “Vicki’s friend was tricked by Davey Barton.”

  Adrian inhales and looks at the floor. “I’m sorry to hear that, Vicki.” He looks at Chase. “Unfortunately, we’re going to keep meeting up with people Barton tricked.”

  I take my phone and text Dom, telling him to open the door when I get there. The hallway leading up to their suite is empty, and I don’t see anyone. The quiet unnerves me as I strain to listen for any unusual noises, but no one is around. No reporters hiding behind corners or wise-ass bullies who ought to be busy working on their final projects. The door swings open, and I rush inside.

  “What a fucking bitch,” says Dom.

  That stops me cold. “Excuse me?”

  “Did you check Talia’s thread today?” Dom asks, holding his phone. He glares at the screen and then plops down on the couch. Their suite is an OCD freak’s reoccurring nightmare—the filth has reached epic portions of disgusting. Takeout boxes with half-eaten fast food, dirty clothes piled on the floor, textbooks left open on the coffee table surrounded by to-go coffee cups. I pick one up and grimace at the science project growing inside. Their kitchen is the same setup as mine—a counter packed with built-in appliances along a long wall. I open the cabinet under the sink, and the garbage can is spilling over the top. Fucking nasty.

  “Leave that!” he barks. “Look at what that bitch has up on her site.”

  I dump the coffee and sit by him on the couch. Talia’s thread is on my phone, and she has a quote pinned to the top.

  “Life’s a stage, and we’re all actors on it. But why struggle with the extras when you can sell the script to the play instead?”

  I hold my phone away from my face and frown at the words. “What does that even mean?”

  “She’s trolling for dirt.” The red on Dom’s cheeks is starting to spread. He looks like a bull pawing the ground. “I thought Silas shut her down?”

  There is no privacy for me. They act like I’m paranoid, but my business is always the topic.

  “He spoke to her, but I think it was just a warning.” I look under my ass and pull a shoe out from under the cushion. “This place is a mess.” Dom stares at me like I’m lightheaded. “Things are bad, but you don’t have to shit on yourself.”

  I get up and look around for an empty bag to chuck stuff in. Dom watches me with a blank expression, but I know he’s not happy that I’m doing it. I’m not looking for thanks. I need to be in control of something while the rest of my life sinks to the bottom.

  “Come on,” he says, standing up. “I’ll help you get Chase’s stuff. And then you can come back later and clean.” He looks me up and down. “But only if you do it in your panties and heels.”

  “You’re gross, you pig.” I lash out at him, taking a swing with the trash bag.

  Dom laughs. “I’m kidding. You don’t have to wear anything.”

  “Only you would think of sex right now.” I walk fast toward Chase’s room, acting more disgusted than I really am. He’s just a jerk on purpose, but I won’t encourage it by laughing.

  Dom grabs my arm and spins me around before I can step into the bedroom. He pulls me into a kiss that’s more tender than raunchy. Sighing, I melt against him, feeling the heat of him against me. His lips press hard on mine, unrelenting until I have to part my lips. His tongue sweeps in as he pushes me against the open door, which hits the wall with a bang. My hands go to his chest, and I start to push him off me. But I take my time and only push Dom away because I have to breathe again.

  “I have to get his stuff,” My words are breathless as I squirm away. “He’s waiting.”

  Dom nods his head and grabs a sneaker off the ground. “A kid was calling Chase ‘teacher’s pet’ the other day. A kid we used to boss around.”

  “You mean bully?” I ask with irony. I glance over at the poster of a young Adrian on the wall, trying to see the resemblance to the man in my suite. I can’t imagine him being bullied.

  Dom is quiet as he peeks under the bed for the other sneaker. We don’t talk much after that as I pack clothes into Chase’s duffel bag. I probably shouldn’t have taken a cheap shot, but when you’ve been on the receiving end of that petty shit, the memories cling to you. Every wrong word or look immediately raises my defenses, and now Chase will know what it’s like.

  Three duffel bags weigh me down, and I can barely open the front door. Dom reaches around me and throws it open. “I should go with you,” he says. “Since it’s obvious we aren’t going to class.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, “The less, the better. And the reporters will recognize you.”

  When I enter my suite again, Adrian is lying down on the living room sofa with his arm draped over his eyes, blocking the morning sun. Sitting in the armchair, Chase is frowning at his phone, and I don’t dare ask what he’s looking at. He sees me and jumps up to get his heavy stuff off my shoulders.

  I look over at Adrian. “Sorry, I didn’t know that it had taken so long.”

  Chase pulls me into his arms, and I hold onto him, placing my cheek against his hard chest. I can hear his heartbeat against my ear. It soothes me, and for a moment I close my eyes, and pretend nothing is wrong. I want to stay like this for as long as I can.

  “He got a text from a neighbor,” explains Chase. “There’s a news van in front of his home, so we’re waiting it out. The neighbor’s going to text when they’re gone. Do you mind if I crash a little longer?”

  I shake my head. “It’s okay, but Redwood isn’t much better. We could sneak over to my dad’s.”

  Chase looks over at Adrian, but his brother responds with a low snore. He moves a little, stretching out his long leg and throwing his other arm up over his head. His expression is peaceful, and the resemblance to the boy on Chase’s wall is obvious when his face is relaxed. The beard doesn’t conceal the pink in his face. I grab a throw and carefully drape it over him.

  Chase grabs my hand and pulls me down the hall to my bedroom. “He could stay at my dad’s too,” I offer, as we sit side by side on my bed.

  Chase laughs. “Adrian will be okay. He’s been on his own since he was eighteen. He only comes around to check on his wimpy little bro.”

  “There’s nothing wimpy about having an older brother that gives a shit about you, I know.” I swallow hard and admit another truth. “My brother only dug into the agency because he wanted to protect me. I needed something when you were bullying me. I wouldn’t have said a word except for Luna.” I meet his gaze. “If I had known this would happen to you, I would have kept it a secret.”

  “Vicki, my parents made the
ir own mess. This isn’t how I wanted it to come out,” he says. “But at least, Marcy is out of my life.”

  “She’s still in a coma.”

  Chase frowns. “If the floor had been wood and not concrete…” He takes my hand and lets me complete the sentence in my mind.

  “Do you love me?” His voice is barely a whisper, but I know what I heard. Chase waits for an answer as he holds my hand tighter.

  I’ve thought about it, and I hope my words are true to my feelings. Lies would only hurt more right now. “I love you, but I also love Dom and Silas. I think about us at the lake and the way I felt. I felt whole because different parts of me need each one of you. I probably sound crazy.”

  He squeezes my hand. “It’s how you feel? We’ve been pulling you in all directions between us. I’m not surprised you can’t choose.”

  “I have chosen, “ I whisper, “I want all of you.”

  Chase sighs, and I wait for a reaction. “Have you told them yet?”

  “I want to,” I reply softly.

  Sounds outside the window intrude upon the silence in the room. I can hear voices shouting, but I don’t dare look out the window to see who it is.

  “Vicki, you didn’t cause this. My parents did.” Chase lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me against his body as he lies down across the bed. “What part of me do you love?” he asks.

  I know exactly what I want to say, and I don’t hesitate. “You forge your own path, no matter how much people try to drag you back on to theirs. When Dom and Silas bullied me—you stood apart. You decided you didn’t give a fuck about their opinion of me. And you were kind when I was falling apart. I love your persistence—you don’t give up. You talk about leaving, but you’re still here. Your reputation has taken a hit, but you’ll stare them all down until they scurry away.”

  Chase kisses the top of my head. “I thought it was my good looks and my fast car that made you mine.”

  I smile, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I’m into the cake, baby, not the icing.”

  Chapter Seven

  Vicki

  Gradually, calm returns to the campus as Jagan flexes his power. In less than twenty-four hours, Redwood morphs into a locked-down cult with a demigod in white linen as its leader. Jagan, dressed in long loose robes, struts through campus like a dictator with his private security detail backing him up. He gives the kiddy bullies a lesson on how it is done. I watch Jagan and his men coming out of the woods from my bedroom window, looking for stray reporters to manhandle. I hold up my phone and record them while leaning against the wall for cover. He looks badass in his Ray-Bans surrounded by big men dressed in black. I play the video back in slo-mo and smile to myself. All Jagan needs is a theme song, a fight scene with Talia, and he’s the newest action hero. Redwood is all he wants, and he’ll protect it from all threats.

  The reporters leave Adrian’s town house only to return the next day, so he decides that Chase will hide out at my dad’s house. Adrian’s decision is fine with us, so we nod our heads in agreement. The Lamborghini is a beacon to all the assholes that won’t leave him alone. Adrian picks it up and drives it off to storage. I drive Chase in my car while Dom follows behind with Silas. We need to talk in private about Talia. And at some point, someone is going to ask hard questions about Marcy. And then there’s school. We need to pass our classes to get out of Redwood, and the film festival has been put on hold until further notice. Another problem.

  “Do they know about Marcy?” I ask Chase while security checks my plates then waves me through the checkpoint. Security has a list of vehicles owned by students and school employees, and Jagan demands every car be scrutinized. I pull toward the main road and look up at the mirror. When I stop to wait for Dom, the security guard attracts my attention. He shakes his head and motions for me to keep going. This is fucked up.

  Stressed, I ask Chase again, “Do they know how she got into the hospital?”

  “Not unless you told them,” Chase snaps.

  I concentrate on the winding road to Dad’s, so we don’t end up in a ditch. I glance up at the mirror, and Dom is behind me now. I speed up as if I’m trying to get away from him. I want this day to be over, and whatever is going to happen to just fucking happen already.

  I park by the for sale sign in front of the house. Dad’s home from San Francisco and wants me to move there after graduation. He also wants me to meet his new girlfriend. I’m curious to meet the woman he’s dating, but today, I’m here to discuss Redwood. Dad flipped when the shady agency accusations hit the legit newsfeed, but Marcy’s accident hasn’t been linked yet. Only a fool would think it won’t happen, so I better tell him myself.

  Dad seems surprised to see the three boys trudge into the house behind me. I know he knows Dom, but he’s only seen Silas online, and Chase he’s met once. He eyes Chase’s bags as we carry them in.

  “Can we talk?” I whisper to Dad.

  He nods and then walks toward his study. I turn and eye the boys as they find a seat in the living room. With a sharp look, I tell them to behave, daring them to see what happens if they cause a scene in my home. I hurry into Dad’s study and close the door behind me. He’s so far out of the loop of my life that it’ll take hours to explain it. I take a deep breath and get started.

  “Chase needs a place to stay,” I mumble, “Things at school have gotten worse.”

  “Worse? Did we skip over bad?” Dad scoffs. “It’s a mess over there. It’s a wonder you kids have time to learn.” Dad checks his watch and stares at me. We should be in class. “Wait. Is he the one involved with the teacher?”

  “How much do you know?” I shift uneasily.

  “I know that you better not be involved. Especially if you intend to graduate from that school.” Dad grabs his phone. “Aren’t you missing a class?”

  “Who are you calling?” I demand quickly.

  “Jagan,” he replies, “He better explain what he’s doing about this.” Dad stops mid-tap and glares at me with a look that could shatter granite. “How bad is it, Vicki?”

  “It’s not anyone’s fault,” I start panicking.

  “Which means everyone has fucked up.”

  I stare at Dad with wide eyes. He can curse like he invented it but rarely curses at me. But I don’t have time to react when I hear shouting coming from outside the room. I run to the door, and I’m out of the study, heading toward the shouting. Dom is in Chase’s face, and Chase has his fists clenched. Silas isn’t helping. He’s seated in the armchair farthest from them with his legs crossed, staring at his phone. I know his plan; let them punch each other out, and he’ll swoop in for the reward, which is me.

  “Stop!” I scream, squeezing myself between them. “Are you crazy? My dad’s here.”

  Dad steps over toward me and yanks me out of harm’s way. They wouldn’t have hurt me, but Dad’s making a point with his gesture. He’s the man in his own home, and they are boys, so they better behave.

  “Sit down, both of you.” Dad’s unblinking expression is unforgiving. Chase slides down onto the couch. Dom takes a step back and remains standing. “No wonder you kids are screwing up in school. You can’t follow directions. I said sit down, Dom.”

  Silas looks over, but instead of a smug smirk, he’s attentive and watching the scene a few feet away. Dom eases himself down into an armchair across from Chase on the couch. His long legs press against the coffee table, so he scoots the heavy chair back, dragging across the wood floor. Dom looks down at the scuff marks on the polished floor and then up at Dad.

  “Sorry, Greg…sir.” He grimaces, then looks away. Dom ignores everyone and turns his head to look out the window. This is going nowhere before we’ve even started. We have to talk before it is too late to discuss anything. Before feelings are hurt beyond repair; right now, all we have is us.

  “Greg,” Dad says, “It’s still Greg.”

  My shoulders drop in relief, but Silas makes a face that’s so slight that if I h
adn’t been looking at him, I’d have missed it. He didn’t know that Dom and Dad have any kind of relationship. If he knew why they were close, he’d be gloating. My face burns, recalling how we almost got caught in the act. I cross my arms as I watch Silas’ plan unravel. He thought he was going to charm Dad by being the good one. He didn’t count on Dad knowing Dom and liking him.

  Then something big occurs to me as it must’ve occurred to Silas. Dad thinks Dom is my boyfriend. It makes sense. Dad told Dom to use a condom. My face must be glowing like a fire poker. I watch with interest as this weird dynamic unfolds between the men in my life; instead of fighting, they have other ways to compete with one another.

  “Sorry, Greg.” Dom looks down at the ground like a fucking peasant. “It’s been rough at school lately. All hell has broken loose.” Dom looks up with big eyes. “It’s good to have a place to go.”