“What are you doing here?” a low voice grumbled, startling me.
I turned away from the tree where we’d carved our initials when we were kids, and I frowned when I saw Godfrey Taylor leaning against the rough bark, smoking a joint. He was wearing his signature aviators, smiling at me, the wide grin highlighting the subtle stubble on his face.
Godfrey came from a long line of lawyers. His father owned one of the most profitable firms in the south. He could get away with anything, and usually did. He was known to get off the most notorious criminals, ensuring they walked.
I steeled myself. “You know that I always loved this place,” I said defensively. I didn’t want to give this up, too.
Godfrey was usually the only one in Savannah’s elite circle that still talked to me. Maybe because our parents had high hopes that we’d someday marry and combine empires. But it was probably because he liked to keep me on my toes.
“Heard Stephanie fucked with that pretty face of yours,” he commented while walking towards me, frowning when he got a good look. “Looks like you’re healing,” he said, eyeing my lip that was now scabbed over.
I crossed my arms, and he tossed me a smirk before continuing. “Stephanie bragged about it before she sucked my cock in eighth period. She slid up and down real nice for me,” he said tauntingly. “The high of y’alls fight made her teeth chatter.”
And just like that, I was reminded once again that Godfrey and I weren’t friends. I really should remember that.
Godfrey saw the change in my expression, saw me about to shut him out, and immediately, his eyes glittered with challenge. Because he was Godfrey, he wouldn’t just let it be. Unlike the other Heirs who outright tormented me, he seemed to get some sick satisfaction from the constant push and pull. He liked toying with my emotions. I just wish it didn’t work.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me into a hug, and I let him. With my face pressed against his chest, I could smell her on him. It was her sickly-sweet, ridiculously expensive perfume that she always spritzed in the locker room. It made me want to puke.
I should’ve pushed him away. I should’ve turned around and walked off. But because I was a masochistic idiot, I let him hug me. I still craved his contact, still craved the tiny bit of affection he offered.
In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held me like this. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time someone cared enough to comfort me. My own parents didn’t even offer me physical affection. No hugs to let me know that they loved me, or even a pat on the back. And now that I had no friends, my body was so starved for affection that I gave in to him easily. I missed the old Godfrey enough that I was willing to allow him to touch me, even after he’d just told me that he’d let that bitch blow him. I was so fucked up, that I enjoyed the feel of his arms around me, even if it was fake comfort—even if he only did it to screw with me.
The question I’d asked myself a million times was at the tip of my tongue. Why? Why did they hate me? What happened that changed everything?
I bit my lip to hold back my questions. I was scared that if I asked them again, Godfrey would stop talking to me. He was the last one to not completely shut me out. He was my only way in. I was like an addict, who used whatever methods I could to find out what was going on in their elite world. Sure, he gave me whiplash with his constant push and pull, but at least I got some pull with him.
As soon as he felt me relax against him, he dropped his arms and pushed me away. The smirk on his face told me all I needed to know. The hug was nothing more than another game. It was always a fucking game with him.
“Rogue has a thing tonight,” he said.
Rogue. Just his name had the power to fill me with sadness. “You guys always have a thing,” I replied, forcing my voice even, but failing miserable.
The Heirs were named for their birthright. They were the four most powerful successors in Savannah. Their parents owned the town, which meant that they did, too. Hell, with how many investments they had, I wouldn’t be surprised if they ended up owning the world.
“You always did pay close attention to Rogue,” Godfrey said, his tone somewhat hard.
I often wondered if Godfrey was in love with me. At least, the way someone like Godfrey could love. He had a serious god complex and thought that everyone was beneath him. At first, when our mamas pushed us together, he laughed it off. But the way he acted whenever I brought up Rogue made me wonder if he was actually jealous. Jealousy was just another one of their traits that I’d become used to. I latched onto it like a fool. The boys I once loved conditioned me to crave cruelty, I guess.
“Bye, Godfrey,” I said, before adjusting the strap of my brown leather messenger bag up higher on my shoulder.
Godfrey smiled, pulling his dark aviators off so that I could look into his cool blue eyes. “Stop coming here, Scar,” he said, making my insides churn. “This place isn’t for you anymore.”
Hurt, I turned on my heels and started walking quickly away. “See you tomorrow night for dinner,” he called at my back with a dark chuckle. I raced down the train tracks without another word. Maybe this place had lost its magic, after all.
Chapter Five
“No.” My voice carried through the cavernous room and even seemed to echo down the hallway.
My mama, Porschia Livingston, was still wearing her fashionable business suit that screamed, “prep school Principal.” Her hair was bleached blonde, but her eyebrows betrayed that her hair was actually the same brunette color as mine. She stood above me in our informal living room with her manicured hands on her hips.
“This was not a yes or no question,” she told me sternly. “I’m telling you, you’re done. The fights. Skipping class. Moping around like you ain’t got a lick of sense. I’m over it, Scarlett Anne.”
“I didn’t do anything! Stephanie came at me in the locker room,” I told her, gesturing to my face. I thought I’d done a good job of covering up my faded bruises with makeup, but word still got to her. Nothing escaped Principle Livingston. “Do you think I’d look like this if I’d fought back?”
“I told you that if you’d gotten into one more fight, it was boarding school. I meant it,” she said, her harsh face magnified by the tight bun at the back of her head.
“And I told you, I didn’t get into a fight,” I snapped. “Stephanie cornered me.”
“It doesn’t matter, Scarlett. There’s too much talk. It’s unseemly.”
I scoffed. “I’m sorry I’m so unseemly for you and your reputation. Too bad my bullying isn’t polite conversation for your weekly sweet-tea social, Mama.”
“You leave Monday,” she said, ignoring me. “The boarding school is in Switzerland. There are some very prominent families there. All girls, of course, so you can’t get into another Heirs debacle. Although, if you’d just apologize, I’m sure this whole thing could be cleared up,” she said, as if it was some small trifle, and I was being stubborn.
I clenched my fists so hard that my nails cut into my palms. It didn’t even matter to my mama whether or not I was at fault. As far as she was concerned, we were lower in the hierarchy, and I needed to kiss the guys’ feet until I was back in their favor. The embarrassing thing was that it wouldn’t matter if I did. They were done with me.