Mad Love (Slateview High 3)

“Well, fuck. Jerking off on a couch next to my two best friends. It’s not the weirdest Friday night I’ve ever had, but it’s close.”

“Fuckin’ worth it,” Misael groaned, sounding so happy and satisfied that it made my heart swell.

It had never been a question that the three boys would share me. I had developed feelings for all of them at the same time, and they were all such a tight-knit unit that I didn’t think any of them had questioned it either. But this was a first for all of us, and I loved that they trusted each other enough—and cared about me enough—to do it.

“Yeah.” Kace’s voice was a bit softer than usual, a bit sweeter. “But I still miss you, Princess.”

“A-fuckin’-men,” Misael agreed.

“I miss you guys too.”

My body was drifting toward sleep again after the intensity of the sensations that’d torn through me. But I wasn’t ready to let go yet. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

“Thank you,” I whispered sleepily, my eyes drifting closed. “For calling. For everything.”

“Always, Princess.”

We hung up a moment later, but I kept the phone cradled in my grip, and I fell asleep that way, comforted by the knowledge that I wasn’t alone.

Twelve

Another two weeks passed before my father decided I’d been sufficiently punished for my outburst at the restaurant. I had half-expected him to keep me on lockdown for the remainder of the semester, but of course, that didn’t fit with the illusion of a perfect family with a perfect life he was trying so hard to maintain.

It probably helped that I had decided to play along with his game, and had made myself the picture of contrition every time I was in his presence. I snuck into his home office two more times while he was out of the house, printing off a few things and keeping them hidden under my mattress.

I wasn’t exactly sure why I did it, or what I planned to do with the things I’d printed. He’d been careful to keep his tracks covered, so nothing on his computer or his inbox was directly incriminating. I wasn’t sure anything I’d found would be solid enough to become real blackmail material, even if I was brave enough to attempt to blackmail my own father.

My gut twisted every time I thought about possibilities like that, making me feel nauseated and shaky. It was terrifying to even think of imploding my family like that, but it was even more terrifying to consider what my dad might do if backed into a corner. He’d shown me quite clearly that he didn’t like to lose, and that he would go to extreme lengths to get what he wanted.

But he liked to pretend he was reasonable and magnanimous, so in the face of my apparent penitence, he agreed to let me go back to school. He even gave me back the Aston Martin, although that too was probably more for appearances than anything else. He couldn’t stand the idea of his daughter not keeping up with the other children of the elite.

My three week absence had been noticed by everyone at school, and in my absence, the contingent of people who hated me seemed to have grown in both strength and numbers. It almost felt like more of a punishment to have to walk the halls of Highland Park Academy than to listen to Katherine quiz me on the contents of my textbooks.

By the middle of my first days back, I could already feel my patience straining at the seams. In my last class of the day, I snuck my phone out of my bag and pulled up a new text message.

ME: I have to get out of here for a little while. Can I see you guys?

BISHOP: We’re close by. We’ll come pick you up at 3.

I knew they worried about me driving my fancy-ass car into the neighborhood I’d lived in with Mom for a few months, so I didn’t put up a fight.

ME: Okay. I’ll be out front.

Then I shot a text to Mom telling her that I had to stay late at school for a prom committee meeting. I knew Dad had demanded that she not let me go places outside of school, but with the tension still so thick between them, I was pretty sure she wasn’t about to go tell on me. They were hardly a united force when it came to parenting.

As soon as the class ended, I scooped up my bag and bolted for the door, making my way through the throngs of people in the hallways until I reached the front of the school and jogged down the steps.

Unfortunately, I was so excited to get outside that I didn’t see Marissa until she stepped in front of me as I hurried down the sidewalk. She’d been president of the We Hate Cora Club ever since I’d punched her in the face, and her open sneer told me her feelings toward me hadn’t changed one bit.

“Watch where the fuck you’re going, you slut!” she hissed, her lips curling back in an expression that closely resembled a snarl.

Before I could respond, a

deep voice from behind me made pleasant goose bumps rise along my skin.

“No, you watch where the fuck you’re going.”

Bishop, Kace, and Misael stepped up beside me, moving like a rolling wave toward the redheaded girl in front of me. They stopped when they reached her, all three of them towering over her.