Page 11 of Tainted Rose

Xander

Idon’t know what to do about what I’d found in Sebastian’s office. Confront him? Demand answers? If what I believe is true, what will happen when he finds out I know?

Earlier this summer, I’d asked for some cash to go to a concert with friends, and Mom had said Sebastian keeps some in the drawer in his desk, and I could take what I needed—within reason, of course. I sure as fuck wasn’t expecting to find something incriminating. Something that could be so potentially damaging.

And to think I’d thought maybe Mom and I’d made it through all the bullshit with Dad to finally find our happiness. Mom and Sebastian still act a lot like newlyweds even though they’ve been married over six years now, and Janie is such a little sweetie. I couldn’t ask for a better little sister. A sibling is not something I’d ever wanted when I was younger, for fear of what would happen. So, when Mom divorced and remarried, then got pregnant right away, I’ll admit—I was more excited than you’d think a preteen boy would be about it. Janie’s been the balm for our damaged hearts. A beacon of shining light in our dark, dark night.

I’d hoped we were on the right path. Finally in a place where we could relax and just be. But no. Now the calm our family has found is being threatened. I don’t even care so much about myself—I’ll be out of here in less than a year. I hope I’m wrong, because if I’m not and this gets out, our lives will implode. Again.

I stride down the hallway, paying no mind to the gawking of other students. I’m used to it—it comes with the territory. Descended from a family who founded the school? Makes you akin to a god around here. Royalty. A Rose. It’s useful about half the time and annoying as hell the rest. Want people to know all of your business? Have your parents donate millions of dollars a year to the school. That equates to no goddamn privacy whatsoever. Want girls falling all over you, offering themselves up for no reason other than your name? That’s what status does. I’ve done nothing to earn any of it for myself except be born to the right parents. Or wrong, depending on how you look at it.

I may have inherited my name from my father, but I seem to have gotten most of my looks from my mother’s side of the family, and yeah—the girls trip all over themselves anytime I’m near. I could probably turn around and crook a finger at any of the chicks watching me with lusty eyes and they’d come running, shimmying out of their panties along the way.

I don’t want any of them.

I only want her. It yanks at my heart and tears at my soul that she won’t ever be mine again. She can’t be. I can’t allow myself to be sucked in. It’s safer for all of us if I push her away. Better yet, if she leaves altogether. And I’m trying, but damn, she doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. I’m not sure how much more pain I can inflict on her before it breaks us both.

As I power down the hallway, my friends come into view outside the English classroom. When they catch sight of me, Micah’s expression is pinched, Beau’s confused.

“The fuck, man?” Beau’s greeting leaves a lot to be desired, and I scowl at him, trying to shrug it off.

I should clue him in. But not right here. Not now.

“So, is the rumor true? You two are really over?”

I glance briefly at Micah, who shakes his head.

“Yeah. She’s nothing to me,” I lie. “Don’t ask.”

Beau rears his head back like I’ve tried to punch him. He stares at me in complete disbelief, then quickly gets right back in my face. “You could have at least waited a hot second before you jumped into bed with someone else. That was fucked up, man.” He pushes off the locker he’d been leaning against and goes into class.

The only person I’ve been in bed with is Scarlett, so I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I look to Micah. “What the fuck?”

Micah clenches his teeth together. “Aria. She posted a photo of the two of you in bed at the party Friday night.”

I sputter. “What?” I’d told her to post the pics of us on the couch. What the hell is he talking about? Pics in a bed?

“Look at her account if you don’t believe me.” He shrugs. “I know you said to trust you, but that was fucked up. Really fucked up. I don’t understand what you’re doing right now. I’m with you, brother, and you know I always have your back, but what you’re doing is hard to swallow.”

I squeeze my eyes tightly shut for a full count of three. “I hope I’ll be able to explain this to you one day. For now, I can’t.”

I know they don’t get it, but the fewer people who know exactly what I’m dealing with, the better. I wish I could tell him. And Beau, who is currently glaring at me through the doorway of the classroom.

Micah gestures to my phone. “You should look. I don’t know whether this is part of your plan or not, but it sucks.”

I yank my phone from my back pocket and pull up Aria’s profile on Instagram. What I see on her page has my eyes bugging out. I’m lying there, chest bare, sheet pulled just shy of my waist. Aria lies curled up next to me, her head on my chest, her hand on my lower abs. Christ. And the kicker—she’s also naked from the waist up. In fact, I’d swear she wasn’t wearing anything under that sheet, as it’s pulled down low enough to see the upper half of her ass cheek peeking out.

For all intents and purposes, the photo looks like it was taken of us in a state of postcoital bliss. Like we’re a couple. Like I’m hers. And the comments. Oh my God, the comments… There are over two hundred already, even though the photo was posted less than twenty-four hours ago. I quickly scan them. My eyes slam shut, jaw twitching in anger. Well, that’ll do it. Scarlett will officially hate me forever after that.

My body is so tense that when someone touches my arm, I nearly explode. My eyes pop open, and I stare at the she-devil wearing a smug smile.

Micah’s eyes widen, and he looks between the two of us. He hesitates briefly before jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be in class,” he grunts with a you’re digging your own grave, asshole kind of look and enters the classroom.

Once he’s gone, I grab Aria by the elbow and haul her to an empty classroom at the end of the hallway. I shut the door, rounding on her. “Fuck, Aria! What the hell were you thinking?”

She looks at me with genuine curiosity, batting her long mascara-coated eyelashes innocently. “Did you not tell me you wanted my help?” She nods at the phone, tightly gripped in my hand. “You told me to make it convincing. You implied you wanted everyone to know that you’d dumped her on her ass, then come running straight back to me. Those pictures showed everyone exactly that. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

I’m so pissed off my entire body shakes with it. I clutch my head in my hands, yanking on my hair, and walk in a circle. Fuck. Yes. It’s exactly what I’d told her I needed. And if nothing else, Aria has always done anything I’ve asked of her. When I told her to act like a bitch to Scarlett at the beginning of the year, she’d done it, no real questions asked. She’d put Scarlett’s number in the boys bathrooms, stolen homework, the bracelet, and the clothes right out of the locker room. She’d had a shitty T-shirt made and left the note on the mirror. She’s continued to aggravate Scarlett at every turn. She’s done every goddamn thing I’ve asked of her.

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