It all starts with a lie.
It compounds itself. Once you tell one, you must cover up with another and another. And slowly, the more you dig yourself into that grave, the darker it becomes as you bury yourself under a mound of filth.
They rise from their seats, hands entwined, and I smile. She didn’t think I’d be here, watching, waiting. I’ve bided my time for so long that I’m vibrating with the need to finish this. It ends tonight because he’ll learn all there is to know about her.
I close my eyes and picture it, the thick yellow folder on the small welcome mat of his estate. Perhaps the maid has already retrieved it and set it on his desk. And maybe he won’t see it the moment he walks in. I pray he fucks her before that. I pray that his dick is deep inside her as he spills his seed before he learns the truth.
One last hoorah before he walks away for good.
And then I can step in. Just like I always planned.
5
Elian
I stare at my brother. We’re polar opposites. With his motorbike, bad-boy attitude, and tattoos, he looks like he belongs in a motorcycle gang. I guess his dream to become a professional tattoo artist will come to fruition, which I don’t doubt. He’ll even look the part.
“You’re acting like a teenager,” I tell Ahren. He’s an adult now, and I can’t tell him what to do, but the thought of him joining a fucking biker gang doesn’t calm me down. Perhaps I should call up some friends over in Thorne Haven. They’ll give him something to think about.
But I don’t want Ahren near Creed Haven. Perhaps I should rethink this. Even though my foster brother has a good head on his shoulders about finishing school, it’s the danger that comes with putting on a kutte and heading into the unknown that leaves me worried.
“I’m young. I want to enjoy my twenties,” he tells me confidently, shrugging into the black leather jacket I know hides his ink. When he got into college, he started getting artwork all over his body. His art is his life, and I’m thankful he has something to focus on. Losing my dad was hard on him as well. And I know it’s a topic we don’t always talk about, but I love him as if he were my blood.
“Parties aren’t the be all and end all of college. Studying is. Even though you’re acing your art classes, you have to be responsible.” I know I sound like a parent, but I can’t help it.
He turns away, looking out over the expansive garden. My home is meagre compared to some of the neighbors, yet I have a about three acres here.
“Growing up wasn’t easy for me after losing my folks. Thankfully, your dad gave me a life, a second chance, I don’t want to fuck that up, Eli,” he tells me, confidence brimming in his tone as he sips his coffee. “I hear you have a few hotties in your class this year.” He drops the query like I knew he would. I know why he’s asking, but I don’t focus on it. At least, I try not to.
“I suppose,” I respond, keeping my voice cool. “Why?” I ask, even though I already know the answer. He has a few friends in this senior class. Even though he never set foot on the grounds today, the football team is just some of the guys he hangs out with when they’re partying at his friend Alistor’s house. The asshole is richer than God, and his folks leave him alone at home so much you’d think he was an orphan.
“Alistor and I were meeting a few guys from the team,” Ahren informs me with a smirk sweeping across his expression. “One in particular did catch my eye.”
“Oh?” I act disinterested, but I’m far from it. My body is rigid because I have a feeling I know which one it is. One thing we’ve learned over the years is that my brother and I have the same taste in women.
“Sleek, honey-colored hair down to her bubble butt, nice curves, pouty lips. And wearing the school uniform, she looked like every college boy’s wet dream and every teacher’s filthy fantasy.” He sounds far too fucking satisfied with himself because he knows he’s on touchy ground with me.
“Don’t start that bullshit.”
“Why? Are you trying to tell me you didn’t notice how her skirt kisses those thighs I know you want to spread?” His challenge is clear. Asshole. Sometimes, we fight and argue, but I love him, deeply. The only person I’ll ever offer that feeling to.
“Aren’t you late for something?” I bite out as frustration takes hold of me. Ahren chuckles, knowing he has me right where he wants me. Even though I try to school my expression, it doesn’t work.
Arabella.
When I saw her name on the roll call, excitement shot through me. But then I noticed it. There’s an air of sadness that emanates from her. I must admit, she reeled me in, and I never expected it. She doesn’t belong here, in a small town. She should be walking runways. But then again, I never planned on teaching at some rich-kid academy when I could’ve been traveling the world. But we all make our choices.
“Ahren, she’s off limits,” I bite out, but I know Ahren notices my shift in demeanor, and from the tone of my voice, it’s clear. She’s affected me. He can read me like a book, even though everyone else can’t see shit going on behind my façade.
“They’re eighteen,” Ahren tells me easily. His dark eyes land on mine. “You know, teacher-student relationships are frowned upon,” he jokes, bumping shoulders with me.
