Ugly Dark Truth Page 7

  Tristan stands suddenly and announces, “Let’s throw a party. We don’t need to go to school anyway; it’s boring. Let’s cut out early today. We’ll get everything we need and invite a few hundred people to celebrate.”

  “What’re we celebrating?” Cole asks.

  “Wait, a party? I don’t do parties, so my vote is gonna be a no,” Kresley attempts to argue, and my brother ignores us.

  Tristan shrugs. “I don’t care; make something up.” He tosses his napkin on his full lunch plate and pushes his chair in, glancing around. “I want to get drunk. Also, I think it’s time I break in Dad’s Ferrari as well. Give a shout-out to your social media pages that we’ll race for seventy-five k at midnight. I’ll post on mine too.”

  Cole straightens. “But you’ll be trashed by then. Let’s think about this some more.” Suddenly, he’s coming off as the rash thinking one.

  Tris shrugs. “No worries, man. I won’t lose.”

  Kresley drops her silverware. “You guys are being dumb. We’re not skipping school, and no one is racing, especially not drunk. I won’t take part in something that’ll result in ruining someone else’s life.”

  Tristan winks. “We’ll see, darling. I’m taking off. Who’s coming? Oh, and I’m driving.” Then he saunters off without waiting for any of our responses.

  She turns to me, worry painting her beautiful features. “Axel, please. This can’t happen.”

  “What?” I growl, glaring at everyone and anything I can find, just as Brent likes to.

  “You’re the only one Tristan listens to. You can talk some sense into him. We can’t do this.”

  With a snort, I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Lois. He said he’d win. Make sure you wear something hot tonight if you’re going to be on my brother’s or my arm. You need to look good.” I spin around and head for the same direction Tristan just went in. Flashing a quick glance behind, I yell rudely, “Hurry up, babe. I don’t like to wait.”

  I hear Cole trying to comfort her as she starts to freak out. He soothes her, promising he’ll do what he can to help. Brent also says he’ll drive her home from school if she wants to stay the rest of the day. Our new plan has just begun, and we’re already on the right track. I thought this was going to be a pain in the butt, but I’m actually having some fun playing this part.

  Night rolls around, and the mansion is thumping with our DJ spinning. The ballroom has been transformed into our very own mini club. Tall, round tables and barstools surround a section designated for dancing near the largest speaker. Strobe lights flash different colors on the dance area, and fog machines positioned in the corners of the room create a sense of privacy. The expansive bar is littered with various bottles of liquor and clear plastic cups, along with a variety of chips and dips. A dozen kegs line up off the side of the bar with multiple people positioned to pump and fill cups. It’s going to be a long, crazy night, but this is what we’re expected to do at eighteen, with no parents home and a never-ending bank card. The party life hasn’t been much of our scene in the past, but you’d never know by seeing the setup we’ve created.

  Harvard Academy doesn’t disappoint with the turnout either. The girls are showing so much skin tonight, you’d never know it was February with snow on the ground. The driveway’s littered with expensive sports cars as well. The owners each vying for a chance at winning the seventy-five thousand dollars Tristan had announced was up for grabs on his Twitter this morning.

  There’s a ton of people here filling up the extravagant space, and it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Plenty of the faces around I don’t recognize from Harvard Academy, and when I ask, they give me various private school names. I had no idea there were so many prep schools, and academies within a few hours’ distance. I didn’t think my brother would actually go through with the race idea tonight, but it looks as if he’s proving me wrong. It was obviously his method of making sure the party is huge—not that it wouldn’t have been otherwise.

  I can feel my girl immediately and look toward the entryway. Sure enough, my Lois Lane stunningly lights up the room as she and Samantha Collingsworth finally make their presence known. Brent’s behind her, following her around like a personal bodyguard. Thank God for that too. I may not be confrontational, but when it comes to Kresley, color me a changed man. I wouldn’t stand for someone bothering her or attempting to win her over.

  With confident strides and wearing a charming smile, I approach the group. As soon as I’m close enough to smell her sweet, feminine-scentedperfume, I grab her elbow and bring her in closer. Taking in her scent, I press a kiss to her forehead and tow her away with me.

  “Hey!” she calls, staring up at me with frustration.

  “I wanna dance,” I reply flippantly, not even considering her feelings.

  I’m acting exactly like Tristan would in this situation. Plus, I’m actually quite horrible at dancing, but I’m going to do my damndest and pretend like I know what I’m doing. The dancing bodies swallow us up, and I yank her front to me, tucking her body into mine in an intimate embrace. There’s no confusion to my intentions, especially when my cock semihardens at the feel of her small frame rubbing against it. In any other situation, I’d think of something to distract myself so she wouldn’t feel it. Not tonight or while I’m adopting this new persona. She has to know I want her sexually—like crazy.

  Leaning in, I graze her earlobe with my teeth and growl, “Fuck, you’re hot tonight.”

  As we move together, my hands fall to her exposed thighs under her ass. We start to grind to the song, two puzzle pieces coming together as one. She’s a freaking temptress even without all of this playing into it. The seductive dress, the music, and her enchanting smell have my attention wrapped up in her completely. Everything around us is foggy, and I couldn’t care about any of it. Only her. I think she’s too dazed to put a stop to my roaming hands. I’m acting nothing like my usual self, and so far, it seems to be working like a charm in keeping Kresley off-kilter.

  She shudders as my tongue continues to play with her ear. I’m so close, caressing her everywhere, that if I had on fewer clothes, we’d look like we were fucking. She moans my name, and I finally move in and cross the line. Palming the globes of her ass, I press her core against my thick hardness and suggest, “Let’s go to my room. I want to put that mouth and chest of yours to work. See if I was right about the size of the opening after all.”

  Kresley jerks back so quickly I have to hold her bicep, so she doesn’t lose her balance and fall to the ground. Her wide eyes are irate as she angrily shouts, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Ax?”

  My index finger trails along her jawline as I cockily smirk in return. “Just telling you how it is, babe. There are plenty of girls who’ll do the job if you can’t handle it. Just let me know, and we’ll try not to keep you up all night.”

  The grin’s wiped off my face as her hand connects with my clean-shaven cheek. The music went quiet the exact moment she made contact, and I swear the crack of her palm meeting my flesh echoes in the enormous room. The cocky smile I’d previously worn, along with the over-confident façade, fades from my face as I stare before me.

  Kresley’s ample chest heaves with her heavy breaths. “Don’t you ever speak about other girls around me!” she shouts and then slams her mouth closed.

  She runs back in the direction we just came from, and I can’t help but think...out of my entire production, the part that upset her was the mention of me possibly being intimate with other girls. I’m flabbergasted to discover she’s so jealous and territorial when it comes to me, and most likely my brothers as well. I never needed to change who I was in the first place; she just required a little provoking. Looks like her feelings for me are still very much intact no matter how hard she’s pretended otherwise these past few months she’s lived with us.

  This time a genuine smile graces my lips as I stride toward the direction she ran off in. Mission accomplished.

  Kresley co
mes running from the dance floor looking like she’s seen a ghost, and my protective instinct takes over. I’ll flatten someone for upsetting her. She flies right into my muscular arms, and I wrap her in my strong embrace. I can feel her trembling against my frame. She’s crying into my chest as I attempt to lean back and get her to meet my gaze. She’s not having it, keeping her chin tucked downward and out of my scrutiny.

  Leaning in close so she can hear me over the booming beat the DJ has spilling out of the speakers, I nuzzle her neck lovingly. “What happened, beautiful?” I question after allowing her a moment to be upset. “Talk to me, so I can fix it for you.” It’s only the two of us. Sam left my side when Brandon showed up and asked her to dance with him.

  Kresley shakes her head, not wanting to discuss it. There’s no way I’m going to let her be so upset without telling me what happened. I need to know how I can make her feel better. I watched her miserable on that damn camera at her parents’ house, and I refuse to let her be sad any longer if I can help it. Picking her small frame up, I walk with her, leaving the ballroom behind us. Keeping her wrapped in my embrace, my bulk helps protect her from everyone’s prying stares.

  We make it out into the hallway where it’s quieter. I don’t stop until I have her pressed firmly against the wall and in our own private cocoon created from my hulking stature. I strain back some to put a foot between us, so I can look into her gorgeous eyes and touch her. Once I’ve secured her with my hips, my hands immediately move toward her face. Cupping her rosy cheeks, I take in her tearful irises, her smudged makeup and pale complexion. “What the fuck happened, Kresley? I need to know sweetheart; it tears me up watching you upset like this.”

  “Ax-Axel.” She whispers his name like he just kicked her cat or something similar. My poor girl, what the hell did that idiot do on the dance floor? I’ve noticed how my brothers have been acting all day, and it’s been a ridiculous site. I’ve refrained from commenting on it even though I’ve wanted to tell them to stop being dipshits.

  “What’d he do, baby? Tell me. I can punch him if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Her lips shake into a watery smile before turning sad again. “He said if I didn’t go to his room with him that he had other willing girls to take care of him.”

  I snort. He’s trying too hard to act like Tristan, and it’s going to backfire on him. He should realize by now that Kresley is territorial, even if she doesn’t come off malicious about it. We’ve made it loud and clear that she belongs to all of us, so of course, she’s going to rationalize inside that we’re hers in return. Sometimes Axel can be too smart for his own good and not notice what’s staring him in the face. “And what did you tell him when he said it?’

  She sniffles, and it’s so freaking cute; she’s upset and still takes my freakin’ breath away. “I…” She lowers her voice to a whisper, and admits, “…slapped him.”

  A loud laugh rumbles through my chest and core at her confession. I bet my younger brother was mortified inside at her reaction. I’m going to give him so much shit for this from now on. This is great! “That’s what he deserves for acting like a fool.”

  “You mean, you’re not angry with me?”

  Leaning my forehead against hers, my thumbs swipe away the tears under her eyes, and I shake my head. “Hell no, not even a little bit. I’m glad you hit the fucker. Don’t ever allow my brothers to disrespect you like that. I don’t care if you love them or not. You don’t deserve to be treated like a sidepiece. Ever!”

  “Thank you for not hating me.” Her gaze turns soft, and she licks her lips.

  “Of course, sweetheart,” I murmur. “You’re my girl.”

  My nose nudges hers carefully, and then she’s up on her tippy-toes. Her lips press to mine, and I fight to hold back my stunned surprise and the drive to ravish her. It’s the first time she’s let any of us kiss her in months, and I didn’t have to do a thing—just be myself. I’m not even the one who initiated the kiss. She did.

  I keep it easy, unhurried, and with very little pressure. If she wants it, she needs to take it. I won’t push her into something that she can regret later. Kresley’s palms slide over my rigged abs and up to my solid pecs. She pauses over them, my body flexing wherever she explores. I want to feel her hands on every part of my bulk, but I won’t beg her for it.

  Moving quickly, I spin us and stride for the corner. I don’t want Kresley worrying about anyone coming out here and being nosey. I’ll always care for her and protect her. I can take her to my room, but I don’t want to break up this moment. Kresley initiated the kiss, and I won’t be the one to end it or escalate it. She can do whatever she wants, and I’ll follow her lead.

  Moments pass, my tongue moving with hers. I try to allow her to lead, but it’s not in me to surrender my dominance. Without realizing it, I take over, kissing her passionately. She needs to know exactly what she does to me, and that’s pop the lid off my control. We kiss until her lips are swollen and she’s breathing heavily, before she pulls back, her tears dried away.

  “Thank you, Brent,” she sweetly mumbles, with her lips still close enough to mine that they brush my mouth.

  “For what?”

  “For being exactly what I needed and didn’t know it,” she admits softly, and I feel like I can finally say what I’ve been feeling.

  With a deep, gravely rasp, I confess, “I will always be here for you. Never doubt that.”

  Biting her lip, she backs off a bit and glances away. She wears her emotions on her sleeve. I can read it all over her that she wants to believe me, but she doesn’t.

  My hand slides from her cheek down to her sharp jawline, tilting her head until she meets my intense stare once again. “I promise you, Kresley. I know you’re hurt, and I respect your feelings, but you also need to realize something.”

  She swallows before asking, “What’s that?”

  She’s listening to me, and that’s good. I need Kres to hear me out here, tonight, so she keeps her walls down with me. Maybe, if my brothers quit being idiots, she’ll open up her eyes to see how completely gone they are for her as well.

  “When that plan initially came into effect, none of us had any clue that you’re the way you really are.”

  Her nose screws up, making her the most adorable woman ever. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that things were business as usual when we moved here. We didn’t know that you were this person—a kind, humble, amazing woman that we’d be falling so hopelessly in love with. Our feelings for you were effortless; we fell for you almost immediately sweetheart.”

  She blushes and starts to shake her head with denial, but I stop the movement. Pulling her into my chest, I back up my statement, “Seriously, sweetheart. I have absolutely no reason to lie to you when you already know what our ulterior motive is.” Leaning in, I breathe in her hair and claim, “You’re one of us, whether you like it or not. You’re ours,” I grumble into the top of her head, pressing a kiss into her sweet-smelling lavender locks.

  Kresley’s thin arms squeeze me tightly—tighter than I’d have expected from her small figure. She moves upward until her lips begin peppering kisses along my throat and jawline. She’s not as short as most of the girls at school, but she’s tiny compared to my brothers and me. I love how she fits so perfectly against me like she was meant to be in my embrace. This is how things are supposed to be between us: honest, open, affectionate, and loving.

  Our tender moment is rudely interrupted far too quickly. Our private cocoon is broken away by voices as we start to hear loud chants coming from the ballroom. Releasing my hold on her, I grab for her hand and storm toward the doors. She trails behind my lead and remains behind my form as I fling the intricately carved white door open. Popping my head inside, I find chaos.

  “Race! Race! Race!” People everywhere chant as one, and Kresley’s terrified stare turns up at me once she gets a look at them inside as well.

  Cole’s gaze instantly finds mine, and
he comes running over, flashing Kres a kind smile. “Hello there, pretty girl,” he greets smoothly, and I roll my eyes. I know he wants to yank her out of my arms and call her beba, but this charade they’ve got going on has him acting like Axel usually does. I don’t think they realize how ridiculous this changeup they’ve got going on is. It’d be comical if they pulled this on Dad to witness his reaction, but with Kresley, it’s old already. The lies and deception are what got us into the mess with her in the first place.

  Kresley’s hand releases mine as she launches herself at Cole. I think he’s just as surprised as I am, as she’s been standoffish and argumentative to my brothers from the moment she moved in. Her eyes fill with new, unshed tears, fear gripping her features. She pleads with him, “Please, please, please, Cole!”

  His jaw slackens as he peers between her and me; we’re both flabbergasted that she’s suddenly become troubled. “What? What is it, mon cher?”

  Her fingers tangle into his perfectly pressed, long-sleeved scarlet button-down shirt. Tears spill over onto her cheeks, quickly flowing down her smooth skin. It breaks something inside me to watch her so distraught. “You have to stop him!” she says, and Cole flashes me a startled look, just as lost as I am.

  “Uh, you mean Tristan?” Cole asks, confused. “From racing?” he clarifies, and she quickly nods, agreeing and clinging to him like he’s her lifeline. I should be mad with jealousy that she can put so much trust in another man, but I’m not. I would be if it were anyone else, but not when it comes to my brothers. We’ve shared everything growing up, including our looks since birth. Caring for Kresley as one—sharing her—is nothing new for us.

  The chanting eventually registered, and I realized why everyone in the ballroom was yelling. Frightened sobs wrack my body as I stare into the two, nearly-identical faces belonging to Brent and Cole. Something in my gut tells me that, if Tristan gets behind the wheel, showing off after drinking all night, he’ll wreck. If that boy hurts himself, or even worse, dies, I’ll never forgive myself for not stepping in and stopping him.