Page 9 of His To Claim

At only seventeen we are all wise beyond our years and it shows. However, unlike his twobrothers, Jax is a breath of fresh air. His laid back, carefree attitude is refreshing after being around neurotic Drake and cynical Kai. How he’s enamored by the Red Dragon is beyond me.

“Your girlfriend here thinks it’s a great idea. She’s actuallyexcited to be going,” I say, throwing the last of my jeans into the suitcase.

Jax pouts turning to her. “Babe, you can’t be serious. We don’t belong in a place like that, with all those rich pricks who think they’re better than us,” he says, coming up behind her wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Get your dirty hands off my fucking sister, Wylde,” yells Drake, fisting his hands beside his thighs and he steps further into our room.

Ruby pushes Jax off of her as she takes three steps toward her brother. “Oh shut it, Drake. You know Jax and I have been fucking since the beginning of summer, so stop acting like you have a say in what I do,” she sneers, leaving everyone perplexed.

“Son of a bitch,” Drake shouts as he lunges toward Jax.

“Hey, man,” Jax says, dodging him. “You know I’ll be good to her. I ain’t fucking around with anyone else.”

“Both of you just stop and get the fuck out,” I yell, eyeing Drake with my eyebrows raised. It’s hypocritical of him to give his best friend shit for fucking his sister, when he and I are doing the same thing. “You heard the asshole downstairs. We have no choice. Now, we can pack our shit and go to this fucking hellhole of a school or we run. I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to end up on the streets, doing God knows what to make a buck. Whether it’s here or in fucking Hillcrest Hills, we’ve got nowhere else to go and they know that. Which is why they’re doing this.”

“You’re right, Scarlett,” Grayson mutters as she enters the room with a solemn look in her eyes. “They know you guys have no one. They know you have nowhere to go. It’s like dangling a piece of meat in front of a starving lion, but what they don’t know is that you have each other. The four of you have been a family since you all arrived here years ago,” she says looking toward Drake, Kai, Jax, and Ruby. “And you two,” she says, turning to Jade and me. “You fit right in the moment you stepped into this house. With yourcareless attitudes and feistiness.” She pauses, looking unsure of what to say next.

“You won’t fit in there. Those spoiled rich kids will make your lives a living hell, but I want you all to promise me one thing. You’ll show those pricks that you kids are from Pleasant Hills, and here, we are family and we don’t take no bullshit. We are Graysons, we stand together, and nothing, or no one tears us down.”

Two

SCARLETT

An hour later, after packing up our belongings, we are out the door and heading into a sleek black SUV with tinted windows. Sarah convinced Agent Servite to give us an additional thirty minutes to say our proper goodbyes.“You’re taking them either way, give them a chance to say goodbye,”she said to him and he didn’t object.

The driver loads our bags into the trunk ushering us inside, while Agent Servite gives the man instructions and heads into another SUV in front of us. Outside of the house Mrs. Grayson and Sarah stand with the three kids that will remain at the foster house, waving at us like we’re heading off to Disneyland, when in reality, we’re headed to slaughter.

About thirty minutes later and up a winding hillside, the car pulls up to two large steel gates with the letters H & H welded into them.

“What kind of town hides behind gates? There must be somesketchy ass shit going on in there,” Kai says, and well, he’s probably right.

A man dressed in all black presses a few buttons on a keypad causing the two gates to open as the car drives inside. “Welcome to Hillcrest Hills,” the driver says, lowering the window that separated us from him. “We’re about fifteen minutes away from the academy, hang tight and we’ll be there soon,” he says as the window closes once more.

Jax rolls down his window staring out at the town as we drive through the gates. “This town is sick.”

He’s right, the town looks almost too good to be true. Too perfect if you ask me. Storefronts lined with bright lights, perfectly manicured lawns, enormous mansions in every direction.

“A little cookie cutter if you ask me,” Jade adds.

Fifteen minutes later we pull up to another set of massive steel gates with the letters S & A welded in them.

Jax lets out a long breath from the back seat. “What’s this town’s obsession with giant gates? Who are they trying to keep out?”

“Or who are they trying to keep in?” Jade mutters sarcastically.

Drake glares at the two of them and rolls his eyes annoyed by their colorful commentary.

As we enter the gates, a large brick building comes into view. It’s larger than any other building I’ve ever seen, with dark gray and white bricks surrounded by stone columns, white-lined windows, and gray shutters. It’s what I imagine schools in London must look like, mini castles with high ceilings and long corridors. Maybe even a winding staircase or two.

This must be how Harry Potter felt making his way into Hogwarts.

The car stops suddenly as it pulls up to the front of the building. “This is your stop,” the driver says as he rounds the circular driveway that leads up to two black metal doors easily ten feet high. As the car parks, two men in all black suits walk toward usopening the doors for us to get out. We all step out of the SUV and onto the edge of the curved driveway, but as soon as the doors close, the car drives off leaving us with the two scary looking men in black suits who look more like guards in charge of making sure we don’t run than they are for our protection.

“Someone will drop off your bags in your new rooms, meanwhile, I will escort you to the Executive Office to meet with Headmistress LeBlanc. Follow me,” says the taller of the two guards, as he leads us toward the two black doors of the building.

“Here goes nothing,” Jade scoffs, as we all follow him into the building. The inside feels like the entrance to a castle with stark archways and sandstone floors. The walls adorned with deep burgundy drapes and golden fixtures are fit for a king and court of royals. It’s eerily cold as we walk down the endless hallway, our footsteps echoing as we walk. We stop abruptly at an antique wooden door to the right of the hallway. On the outside in bold golden letters are the words “Headmistress LeBlanc”. The guard opens the door leading us into the room.

Inside, we find a tall, blond, perfectly manicured woman in her late thirties to early forties, standing behind a large deep mahogany desk. Next to her in a larger, throne-like chair sits the same man who came to see us at the foster home, Headmaster Warren Servite.

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