Page 11 of Dirty Heirs

“You didn’t have to get into a fight with Sonny over me,” Ella said as I raised a forkful of lasagna to my mouth.

“Yes.” I chewed a bite of my food. “I.” I swallowed. “Did.”

Ella dragged the half-eaten garlic bread across her plate, scooping up the sauce. Instead of putting it into her sexy mouth, she continued playing with her food.

“Eat, Cinders.” I tipped my head at her plate. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Ella nibbled on her bottom lip, eyes sweeping over the crowded dining hall. “I’m not hungry.”

“Talk to me.” I dropped my fork onto the plate. “Tell me why everyone is so afraid of your dad.”

“It’s not just my dad.” She swirled the bread in the sauce and took a bite. “My brothers are known for being a little… crazy. And unpredictable.” She let out a deep breath and shook her head. “In eighth grade, I told them about a boy making fun of me, and all three of them came to school and hung him on the flagpole by his underwear. He stayed there until his pants finally ripped and came crashing to the ground. The kid went to the hospital with a broken nose, cheekbone, and ribs.”

I could see why everyone stayed away from Ella. Being her friend was dangerous for most people. But I was not like most people. My family was untouchable. Besides, I would never do anything to hurt her or get on her family’s radar.

“I’ve only been in Devil’s Creek for a few days. So I don’t know how all of this shit works.” I wiped my mouth with a cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table. “But I can tell you this. My grandfather is very powerful. People fear him, and you don’t see anyone running away from me.”

She laughed, but it was more like a derisive snort. “That’s because Carl Wellington has a different kind of power. He has money and connections that could get a man off death row. Being in your presence is a good thing. The students at this school would befriend you in a heartbeat if you let them.” She briefly lowered her eyes to the half-eaten plate before returning her attention to me. “And you should, Aiden. This is your last year of high school. Have fun. Sit with the popular kids. They will accept you, but they will never accept me.”

I ate so fast that I practically choked down the rest of my food. Ella was still playing with the bread and sauce, pretending she would finish her plate.

I slid my hand across the table and touched her fingers. “I don’t want them to like me. Not if they’re too stuck up and stupid to see they’re idiots for ignoring you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I’m a good judge of character.” I flashed a smile that got her to mirror my expression, though her smile didn’t fully reach her big, blue eyes. “I know you’re good people. Their loss is my gain.”

She glanced down at where our fingers touched, studying the tattoos on my forearm. “I work at The Ink Yard on weekends. If you want more ink, I can hook you up.”

I lifted an eyebrow, curious about her offer. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “You should stop by sometime.”

“I will,” I said with a wink that flushed her cheeks. “I could always use more ink.” I leaned forward, searching her body to see where she hid her tats, but if she had any, they were fully covered by the prep school jacket and button-up shirt. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Once again, her skin turned a deeper shade of pink, and I loved how she responded to me. “Are we talking about ink?”

“Of course.” I shrugged. “Unless you have other things in mind.”

She cleared her throat. “Um.”

“You don’t have to be nervous around me.”

She gave me a coy smile. “You’re the first guy who’s ever talked to me without saying something mean.”

My heart broke at her confession.

Why are people such assholes?

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I hate how people treat you, and I won’t put up with it. As long as I’m here, I got your back.”

“Thanks, Aiden.”

Girls at our last school treated my sister like shit because she was prettier than them. Alex could have been a runway model. We both had offers over the years, especially since we were identical twins. But our mother ruined every chance of us ever making money and getting away from her. She refused to sign the consent forms.

We inherited our mother’s looks, but she never showed us an ounce of love. Our father was spineless and stupid and did whatever our mother wanted.

“How did you get into Mrs. Waters’ painting class mid-semester?” Ella asked. “No one has ever done that before. It’s like the hardest class to get into at Astor Prep. I had to apply last year.”

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