I ventured in, heading toward the glass topped desk. Behind it was an immaculately dressed woman. She was typing away on a fancy computer, only glancing up when I stopped before her.
“Yes,” she said, not warmly.
“I’m new here,” I started slowly. “I’m supposed to get … my stuff.”
She barely even looked at me. “Name?”
“Riley Jameson.”
She hit a few keys on her computer, and then glanced at me before hitting a few more keys. “I don’t have you in the system.”
This time there was outright hostility and judging by that look, I wondered if she was planning on yanking the uniform right off me. I let out a sigh. “Try Deboise.”
Debitch.
That caught her attention, and wariness washed over her features. She was suddenly very interested in her computer again. A moment later: “Yes, we do have a Riley Deboise in our system.” Well, at least she hadn’t changed my first name yet.
Office lady smoothly stood, and she clearly had no problem walking in her heels, hips swinging as she strolled over to a massive filing cabinet and drawer system behind her.
When she came back, she was carrying a black leather case and eight USB sticks. “Your class guides are on the drives,” she said, holding them out to me. “Each is labeled. And your computer is in the case.”
She dumped the leather bag into my hands, and I was surprised by how light it was. “What about textbooks?”
She shook her head. “Seniors are mostly online. The books you have will work for reference at home, but here, everything is guided electronically.”
She held her hand out then, long red nails glinting in the lights. “Give me your phone?”
I stared at her hand before lifting to see her face. Hell no, lady. I wasn’t giving my phone to anyone; it was my lifeline when I was at the Deboise Estate.
“I need to upload your schedule to the calendar,” she said with a huff, like she was embarrassed by how backward I was.
Bitch. I thought as I reluctantly handed it to her.
She ignored me, pressing a few keys on her computer and then keying something into my phone, and with a series of beeps, I once again had my phone in my possession. “Your classes were selected by Catherine Deboise,” she told me, her voice quivering on the name. “You are not allowed to change anything.”
Of course I wasn’t.
She dismissed me then, turning back to her screen, and I fought against the urge to plant my ass right on her desk, just to bother her a little longer. Instead, I turned, juggling the computer as I tried to shove the USB’s into my satchel.
Exiting the door, I wasn’t watching where I was going, and before I could think about the stupidity of that, it was too late. Two steps into the hall, my face slammed into what felt like a brick wall, and I went flying, landing hard on my ass. Thankfully I managed to keep a hold of the new laptop, but I lost my dignity completely.
Awkwardly, using my broken hand, I pushed my hair back from my face and almost groaned. Beck, flanked by the other three, stared down at me. His expression was similar to the night he’d stared down at me after the race. Eyes that cut right through me, rigid jaw, flawless fucking beauty that hid the asshole inside.
“The last two times I’ve seen you, Butterfly, you were on your ass.” Beck’s grin was not nice.
“And while it’s a fine ass,” Jasper cut in. “It’d be better if you were on your knees, at least then there’d be a point to your existence.”
Evan let out a low husky laugh, but Beck and Dylan remained impassive. Narrowing my eyes, I flipped Jasper off, adding a “go fuck yourself” to it. Close up, Dylan was even more intimidating than he had been across the parking lot, but Sebastian still took the scary cake. If, you know, scary cake was a thing.
He crouched down until he was on my level—seeing as I was still sprawled on the floor—and flicked that penetrating gaze over me. Slowly. Holy hell, his eyes were a gray so light they were almost silver. Intense. Scary.
Fucking hell, why are the hot ones always psychopaths?
I bit down on the inside of my cheek to squash the burn of arousal his gaze dragged from me, and glared back. One thing I had going for me, I gave a mean glare.
“You think a Ducis uniform makes you one of us, Butterfly?” he asked me in a low, quiet voice. Somehow I sensed this question was a hell of a lot more loaded than it seemed on the surface, so I tightened my jaw and said nothing in response. “You’re less than nothing. You’re just the child that Catherine Deboise threw away. A girl. Utterly useless in our world except for spreading her legs or sucking cock.” He reached out and traced a finger over my bruised cheek, pressing hard enough that I winced. “Maybe you can’t even do that right. Your gangbanger boyfriend do this to you?”
There was a menacing darkness to his voice that made me shiver with fear. Or, I was pretty sure that was fear. Yeah, let’s go with fear.
Jerking my face out of his reach, I glared harder. It was all I had in my arsenal today. “Dante would never hit a woman. I suspect he has more honor and decency in his left shoe than the four of you combined.” I cast my disgusted glare over the other three standing over me in what was clearly intended to be a threatening way. Of course it was. Why else would they be doing this? “Just leave me the fuck alone, Sebastian,” I continued, snapping the words at Beck. “I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here. It’s only two months until my birthday and then I’m done.”
Evan made a noise and when I glanced up, I caught a look passing between him and Jasper. Before I could demand to know what they were getting cagey about, Beck leaned in closer to me. His shiny leather shoes creaked and his mouth watering smell filled my nose. It was a mix of expensive aftershave and something that was all Beck. Dark and alluring.
“If only it was that simple, Butterfly,” he whispered with an edge of foreboding. Giving me a long, unreadable look, he stood back up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Catherine Deboise is up to something, and you’re her pawn. We intend to see you wiped from the board before she can make her move.”
I spluttered a noise of shock and outrage. “Oh yeah?” I scoffed. “What does that make you, the king?”
This time—for the first time—his smile held real humor. But it was gone again as fast as it came, and it was Jasper who responded.
“You’d better believe it, trailer trash. Don’t mess with the king.” He snickered at his own oh-so-witty analogy, and I rolled my eyes.
“Clearly expensive schools don’t teach chess,” I remarked. “Otherwise you’d be well aware the queen is the most dangerous piece on the board.”
The four of them just stared down at me before Beck shook his head. “Nice panties, Butterfly.”
He smirked, then walked away as my cheeks flamed and I pinned my skirt down. Despite what Eddy had said, it was still too short to sit on my ass without flashing my black lace underwear to the world. Evan and Jasper followed him—like the brainless pawn they’d just accused me of being—but Dylan stayed where he was.
“What?” I snapped at him, as a frightened tremble set into my limbs. I was still on my backside, so he was absolutely towering over me.
The scary ass dude stared down at me for a really long, really awkward moment before he stuck out his hand. When I made no move to take it, he sighed. “It’s not poisoned, Riley. I just wanted to help you up. You’re like a baby giraffe in those shoes.”
Uncertain, but not wanting to look scared—or any more scared than I already was—I took his hand with my un-plastered one and let him pull me back to my feet.
“Thanks,” I muttered, and he just shrugged and started walking away in the direction his friends had gone.
“Hey!” I called after him, seizing the opportunity to try and salvage my safety. “I’m serious. I’m not here because I want to be. Just leave me alone and I’ll be gone before you know it.”
Dylan paused, turning slightly to give me a sad, pitying look. “You’ll learn. It’s not about what you want any more.”
With that cryptic statement, he turned the corner, and I leaned heavily on the wall as all the strength drained out of me. Was this what the rest of my school year would be like? Threats and sexual innuendos? So much for the feminist movement. Clearly, old world money was exempt from things like common decency and equality.
“Hey,” a guy called out from down the hall, and I startled. “Shouldn’t you be in class, new girl?”
I frowned as he came closer, trying to work out where I’d seen him before but not having any luck. He was cute, in a preppy sort of way. Chocolate brown hair and a light tan, offset by mossy green eyes. The kind of guy I probably would have flirted with if Beck hadn’t just stripped me of all my brain cells.
“Uh, yeah. I guess.” Hunting through my bag, I found my phone and pulled it out. Flipping through my schedule, I located the class I was supposed to be in and groaned. “Economics.” Fucking Catherine Debitch. A quick scan of my other classes showed more of the same. Calculus, finance, debate... The only subject I was excited about on this schedule was English Lit. It made me sad that I wouldn’t have art history or photography, my favorite subjects at my old school, but office chick had made it clear that there was not a single chance of me changing this schedule.
The guy let out a low whistle, reading my schedule over my shoulder. “Guess you must be a smart one, then. Most chicks here just take the easy grades in event planning or sewing or some shit.” He laughed as he said it, and I honestly couldn’t work out if he was telling the truth or talking shit. “Come on, I’ll show you the way to your class.”
Giving him a suspicious side-eye, I shifted my bag higher onto my shoulder and followed as he strode down the marble tiled hall. He didn’t speak again as I hurried along behind him, not until we stopped outside a classroom which overlooked the school parking lot.