Page 458 of Filthy Elites

When he calls me little bird, goose bumps pebble over my skin, but I’m not sure if that’s because I like it, or because he scares the hell out of me. Maybe both. He wants to fuck me. It’s not like I’ve never thought about sex, of course I have. I’m sixteen, I have fantasies and I’ve explored my own body to see what feels good, but I have zero real-world experience.

I don’t even know if I find Bastian attractive. Who am I kidding? He’s gorgeous, but he’s also high handed, obnoxious, terrifying and an Elite. That’s not me. I’m not motivated by power or popularity. I would rather be invisible than be one of them, but I doubt that’s something he could ever understand. When you look like he does, with a name like Lockwood, invisibility isn’t an option.

The door to the bathroom is ajar and I pad over to it on bare feet, realizing that at some point someone changed me out of my diner uniform and into the soft nightshirt I’m wearing. I’m really hoping it was my mom, the shirt looks vaguely familiar so I think it’s one of hers.

White tile and black marble fittings assault my eyes when I step into the palatial room. It’s huge, bigger than my bedroom at home, and so fancy if I didn’t know I was in his house I’d assume I was at an expensive hotel. A claw-foot tub calls to me, but I don’t have time for a soak, no matter how much I wish I did. If my mom really is downstairs, like he said she was, then I need to get to her and get away from this house and the crazy boy who lives here as quickly as possible.

Stripping out of the sleep shirt and my underwear, I step into the shower and search for the controls, only there aren’t any. It takes me far longer than it should to figure out the water is controlled by a touch screen and once I make it work, the jets are like getting an hour-long massage in an instant.

I linger beneath the water for longer than I should, but the comforting heat combined with all my favorite products makes me want to indulge, even though I shouldn’t. Once I’m done, I wrap myself in the softest, fluffiest towel I’ve ever touched and step back into the bedroom.

Now that I’m fully awake I take a moment to look around. The walls are painted an off-white, except for the one behind the bed that’s covered in patterned wallpaper. The bed is massive and made of dark wood and there’re matching nightstands on either side. All of the soft furnishings are a mix of blues with the odd hint of gold dotted here and there. It’s beautiful and incredibly classy, like it was put together by a designer—which it probably was.

I search the floor for my backpack, hoping that my uniform isn’t too creased from where I folded it into my bag last night after I got changed at the diner. There’s a door next to the bathroom that I’m assuming leads to a closet, so I open it and find my backpack on the floor and my uniform hanging on the rod. There’s a second bag beside the first and I recognize it as mine.

Shock hits me and I stumble back from the force. My mom is here, she stayed here last night, she’s having coffee with Bastian’s parents downstairs right now. What the hell did he tell her to have her agree to all this? I’ve never mentioned him to her, we’re not friends, I’d never even spoken to him myself before yesterday. But he must have told her something that convinced her to believe him, or else she wouldn’t be here and she wouldn’t have allowed me to stay here either. I wonder if he’s told her the things he’s been saying to me? That I’m his, that we’re together, a real couple.

Rushing to get ready, I pull on fresh underwear from the bag Mom must have brought for me and quickly dress in my uniform. My hair is too long and too wet to leave loose, so I brush it quickly then twist it into two thick braids that sit flat to my head on either side, trailing down over my shoulders to the middle of my back.

I never usually wear makeup but right now I wish I did, because I could do with something to help give me a little armor against whatever I’m going to find when I go downstairs. I’ve never found myself in such a fucked-up position before, but as a general rule I always think honesty is the best policy. But how the hell would I even start to explain this? I doubt either his parents or my mom would appreciate me screaming that Bastian is infatuated with me and thinks this gives him some moronic claim on me. It sounds insane even to my own ears.

Smoothing my hands down the front of my blazer, I pull in a deep breath and glance around the room. I quickly give up hope on finding a portal back to my house or an excuse so that I can abandon my mom and leave without having to go downstairs and face whatever the hell is happening down there. My eyes snag on the pictures on the wallpaper. Stepping closer, I lift my hand and trail my fingers across the images. It’s a tiny pale-brown bird—a starling in a beautiful, ornate gold cage.

A shudder runs through me. It’s a coincidence, it has to be, but the imagery still disturbs me. He calls me little bird. He says I’m his. He said he wanted me in his house and here I am, in his home, in a room with caged birds all over the walls.

I need to leave. The best thing I can do is to go downstairs, find my mom and get us out of here as quickly as possible, then do whatever I have to do to avoid Bastian until he forgets all about me.

Nodding to myself, I slide my feet into my shoes, remake the bed, pick up my bags and unlock the bedroom door. Pushing it open, I step into a hallway and glance from left to right. To the left, there’re two doors, one on either side of the hall, to the right, two more doors. Stepping cautiously out, I strain, listening for some clue that might guide me to my mom, but the house is silent.

Cautiously, I walk to the right and find myself at the top of a movieworthy double staircase that curves around, ending in a marble foyer at its base. My steps sound loud once I descend, but I’m still none the wiser as to where I need to go.

“Starling, sweetheart,” a female voice calls, and I turn to find a beautiful woman striding toward me. She’s dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater, but everything about her screams money, from the diamond earrings in her ears to the way her hair sits just so, the natural-blonde color accentuated with artfully applied highlights.

“Hi,” I wave awkwardly.

“How are you feeling? You shouldn’t have carried those bags down, one of the boys would have gotten them for you. You must be starving, let’s get you something to eat.”

“Er,” I mumble.

“Oh, where are my manners,” she laughs. “I’m Miranda, Bastian’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lockwood, I wasn’t sure…” I trail off, not sure what to say. “I’m so sorry we’ve invaded your home, which is beautiful by the way. Sebastian should have taken me home.”

“Nonsense,” she chides, dropping her arm around me affectionately. “He did the absolute right thing bringing you here. Dr. Harris was on a call just a few houses down and he rushed right over to check you last night, if he’d have taken you home you’d have had to go to the ER. Drop your bags and let’s get you something to eat. Chef made croissants this morning and they’re to die for.”

Before I get a chance to protest, or suggest I just find my mom and go, my bags are out of my hands and she’s herding me down a hallway and into a bright, airy dining room that’s full of people.

Sebastian is out of his chair and at my side in an instant, pulling me from his mom and into his arms as his lips descend to mine. He kisses me like there’s no one else in the room and when he finally lets me go and leans back, my lips feel kiss swollen and I’m shell-shocked. “Little bird, I was just coming up to fetch you.” The way he uses the nickname he’s given me like an endearment confuses me, then frightens me when I think about all the gilded cages on the wall upstairs.

“Let me introduce you to everyone, then you need to eat,” he tells me warmly, curling his arm around my back and pulling me into his side as he turns us to look at the curious faces sitting at the table. “Obviously you already know Evan, Clay and Hunter. Then this is my dad, Richard, beside him is Clay’s mom Heather and his dad Eric. Hunter’s dad Vance, his mom Mary, and then beside your mom is Evan’s dad Harry.”

I smile politely, offering them all an awkward wave as Sebastian leads me to the chair beside my mom and pulls it out for me. Waiting for me to sit, before he takes the seat beside me, he immediately starts to play with the bottom of one of my braids, lifting it to his face and rubbing the end over his lips.

“Honey, how are you feeling? You were dead to the world last night when I got here. I’m so glad you’ve quit your job, look what happens to you when you allow yourself to get so exhausted,” my mom chides, not saying a thing about the fact that the guy beside me just kissed me senseless, or that we’re in his house eating breakfast with his family right now.

“I didn’t quit, Sebastian got me fired,” I snap a little too loudly.

Mom tuts and purses her lips. “He was worried about you, honey, and I agree, you work too hard and with you being a sophomore now, you need to focus on your studies.”

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