Beautiful Defiance: Cambridge High Mayhem (Kiss Starter: Cambridge High Book 1) Read online

  I throw. Malice has my back. Trace catches my throws and runs the ball into the endzone. We pound our opponents into submission because you see, I am the king of the game, and this king will not be unseated from his throne.

  No one will overthrow my kingdom, including the five-foot-five straight-as-a-board pissed-off new girl with her defiance.

  4

  LEIGH

  The house is dark. The estate is quiet. Inside my bedroom, I change into a one-piece swimsuit that covers the scars across my back.

  There might not ever be a chance like this again to sample the heated pool. Hannah is at Seven’s party. (Who has a party on a Tuesday?). Henry is away at college. And the Stevensons are on an island somewhere, celebrating their wedding anniversary.

  Though no one’s around, I close the door of the small guesthouse in the back of the two-story mansion with a soft click. After I secure the housekey to my tennis shoes using the shoelaces, I get a running start and bolt up the hillside.

  What will it be like to swim on my back and stare up at the star-filled sky? I’ll know soon. At the top of the hill, I practically skip to the gate that surrounds the pool. I unlock it and set my towel on a lounge chair. Steam rises from the water.

  I slide off my shoes. Goosebumps dot my skin. I hug myself and rub at my arms, my stomach suddenly in knots.

  There’s no harm in going for a swim. I’m a great swimmer, so that’s not the problem. The issue is being disobedient for selfish reasons, partaking in Thomas’s extravagance. A heated pool. A mansion on five acres. Gated entrance. Five-car garage.

  I don’t fit in, and I doubt I ever will.

  The urge to rebel is a difficult habit to break. It wasn’t always this way.

  After my parents’ deaths, I listened and obeyed, hoping my obedience would bring them back to life and they’d take me away from the loneliness and the misery of never being wanted for who I am.

  But no amount of obedience brought them back, and I returned to what I know how best to do. Defy.

  To defy is to be punished, and punishment brings about a pain that teaches me life is pain. Pain is an escape from the numbness of life living in foster homes and being reliant on others’ show of mercy.

  Tired of thinking of my past when I have my future to think of, I walk over to the deep end of the pool and dive in. That first splash of warm water on my cool skin is like biting into a hotteok straight off the pan. Or spooning a mouthful of warm apple pie dripping with cinnamon and whipped cream into my mouth. Pure heaven.

  Closing my eyes and holding my breath, I cross my arms, crisscross my legs, and sink to the bottom. Pieces of my hair caress my face like a wispy breeze. I turn my head side to side. If anyone were to dive in after me, they’d see an impish grin on my face. I stay under the water until my chest is ready to explode.

  I come up for air and swim laps from one end of the pool to the other, first on my back, then with my face in and out of the water, the strokes precise from my early years of swim lessons at the YMCA.

  When I’m happy and out of breath, I push off the side of the pool and swim on my back. The stars wink at me, and the moon plays hide and seek behind the clouds.

  Goodness, it’s so beautiful. I glide across the pool and concentrate on the sounds around me. Frogs croaking. Crickets chirping. Mating calls?

  My face heats. I mean, why else would animals make noises in the night other than for booty? Sticking that thought in the recesses of my mind, I hum a tune. “Rewrite the Stars,” by Zac Efron and Zendaya from the movie The Greatest Showman.

  Priceless staring up at the stars. Having the place to myself. Not having to worry that I’ll be attacked in my sleep. Or beat for doing something that is wrong in someone else’s opinion but right in every way to me.

  I cherish the silence like it’s my last night on this earth. I listen to the frogs and the crickets and brand their little melodies to memory. Also brand into my memory the wrinkles on my fingertips from staying so long in the pool.

  Not wanting to be one big raisin, I swim to the ladder at the end of the pool closest to the house. A noise from the front of the house sends tingles of apprehension up and down my spine.

  Is Hannah home early? Shit, she’ll tell Thomas I swam in their precious pool, and he’ll scold me for not making sure someone was around to keep an eye on me.

  Thomas is a liar and a cheater, but for the most part, he’s a decent guy if you can overlook the lying and the cheating. I hurry to the ladder. Masculine laughter echoes in the night. There’s not one guy but four guys. I bolt for the ladder.

  Water splashes around me. I grit my teeth. In the end, the racket I made didn’t matter. The guys heading my way already have it in their minds to enjoy the pool too.

  They’re in their swim trunks with towels draped over their shoulders. Groaning, I shove away from the ladder and swim to the opposite side. Before I can get out, the guys circle the pool. They’re like great white sharks scenting blood in the water. Too bad I won’t be easy prey. I swim to the middle of the pool.

  “Leigh. Funny seeing you here.” Henry sticks his foot into the pool and kicks, splashing me in the face.

  “You too.” I blink away the water in my eyes. “Thomas said you would only be home on holidays and long breaks.”

  Something to do with wanting to immerse himself in the college experience is how Thomas explained why his only son wouldn’t be making the one-hour drive home on the weekends. Henry stuck around Cambridge long enough to meet me before he left for Dumas. He followed me and his dad around the estate, a silent and brooding shadow behind us, as Thomas gave me a tour of the grounds.

  Thomas pointed to the places I could go and what is off-limits, including Seven’s parents’ place on the other side of the low-lying fence. The Shanahans are private people.

  “My dad knows jack shit.”

  “Did they kick you out of DU? Sent you back home to live with Daddy Dearest?”

  Henry is a younger version of his dad. Dirty-blond hair. Square jawline. Expressive hazel eyes. Some would say they are classically handsome.

  “Why are you here, Leigh?” He lowers himself onto the edge of the pool and sits. His friends do the same.

  “It’s none of your business.” Tipping my chin, I move my arms back and forth, the strokes long and even. Inside, I am a mess of nerves. I should play nice. I can’t win this war of wills when my arms are getting tired. Soon, my legs will cramp up.

  “You’re a stranger. A nobody. Why the hell did my father move you here?”

  “You should ask Thomas.”

  “Already did. He refuses to tell.”

  “Then respect his decision. What he and I have is private.”

  “What you and he have?” He glances in the direction of the guesthouse.

  “The place isn’t yours anymore. Thomas made it clear it’s my space now.”

  He points a thick finger at me. “If you’re sleeping with my father, I’m gonna make you regret you were ever born, Leigh.”

  Huh? And gross! “As if. The Stevenson dick isn’t good enough for me.”

  I pushed too far. Henry’s growl pierces the air. He launches his body at me. I rush to the opposite end of the pool. There is splashing behind me. Crap!

  I scramble up the ladder and am about to make a clean getaway, but someone grabs ahold of my ankle and yanks me into the pool. My chin hits the ladder rung. I bite down on my tongue. Metallic taste in my mouth. I would spit, but I don’t want to get my blood in Thomas’s pristine pool.

  “Fucking take back what you said, Leigh.”

  I would but he’s dunking my head underwater. I claw at his hands. He doesn’t let up. I open my eyes. The chlorine burns them. I shake my head, trying to free myself from his grip, but he has a firm grasp on my hair. I slam my feet on his thighs and push off, but his fingers hold on to me by the front of my swimsuit, keeping me from making much leeway backward.

  My vision goes in and out. My chest collapses onto itself.


  This is it. Eighteen years of living going down the drain because I’d rather defy than admit the truth of what Thomas is to me.

  I close my eyes and pray for my defiant soul. Hear yelling from a distance. Are my parents fighting in heaven? God, can they quit it? Fingers fist in my hair and yank my head out of the water. Large hands grab me under my arms and tug the rest of my body out of the pool. I sputter. Gulp air. Cough in fits.

  Is Hannah home? Did she rescue me from Henry and the chip on his shoulder? I open my eyes and stare up into the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen.

  “Oh, crap, I’ve died and gone to hell.”

  The devil sneers at me. “And payback’s a bitch, Safari. You’re in my debt now for saving your ass.”

  I glance off to the side, where there’s a commotion and yelling. Seven’s friends and Henry’s are holding Henry at bay. No doubt Henry wants to have another go at me. He’ll have to stand in line behind Seven.

  I push myself into a sitting position. The world spins. I groan. Suddenly, my world shifts again. Seven picks me up off the ground and carries me to the front door. I give him the bad news.

  “I’m staying at the guesthouse in the back.”

  “Like in the waaay back?”

  “Yes. Put me down. I’m too heavy.”

  He scoffs. “Don’t think you can bolt. I’ll catch you every time.”

  I should be put off by the idea of him chasing after me like I’m a criminal. Instead, a thrill passes through me. I push the unexpected excitement down, chalking it up to the traumatic experience of my near-drowning.

  “I don’t plan on running off.” There’s nowhere to go. I also like eating three square meals a day for a change.

  “Good. Do me a favor? Grab your shoes. We’ll need the house key.” He tips me to the ground.

  I’m not having it. “Put me down and go back to your friends. I don’t want to keep you guys from partying the night away.”

  “They can wait the fuck until I’m good and ready for all I care.”

  Eloquent response. And . . . the king has spoken. The knights of his court won’t leave until their leader returns. What will happen if his friends ever say no? I’m guessing they won’t. From what I’ve seen, Seven’s friends are loyal. I envy him that. I never stuck around one place long enough to make friends.

  Sighing, I grab my shoes and being careful not to smack him with them, I curl my arms around his neck.

  “When will that be?” I say into his hair.

  “When you and I are done discussing the rules and the boundaries for your time in Cambridge.”

  Ah, so that’s the kind of talk we’ll be having at the end of this wonderful night.

  “Don’t you want to return to your party sooner rather than later? Think of all the ‘action’ you’re missing out on.”

  “There’s no missing out going on. Party didn’t happen. My parents cut their trip short.”

  His jaw tightens. Had I not been so close, I would’ve missed the dead giveaway.

  “Did they have fun?” I don’t know why I asked. Maybe it’s because he’s put out that they came back early, and I want to further rejoice in his unhappiness. I hide my face in his hair. I’m a horrible person for thinking such mean thoughts.

  “Don’t much care. What matters is there’s another party. That’s where we were headed.”

  “You stopped by here. Why?”

  “The party’s at the lake, and seeing that Hannah’s place is closest to mine and she’s already drunk off her ass from starting early at a different party, she wanted my boys and I to grab swimsuits for her and her friends.”

  “You planned on breaking and entering?”

  “Nah, I saw Henry driving up to the house. I figured my boys could distract him and his friends and I’d sneak inside.”

  “You know where Hannah’s room is?”

  There are five bedrooms and six bathrooms in the mansion.

  “Doesn’t every guy?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t know Hannah.

  “Imagine our surprise when we found Henry attempting to drown the live-in groundskeeper.”

  Live-in groundskeeper? Ha-ha. Except what Seven said isn’t far from the truth. I don’t plan on living off Thomas. I’ll pitch in and do my share.

  When Thomas showed me around the property, he dropped a tidbit that I grasped on to for dear life. Their long-time groundskeeper died recently. What if I take over that role?

  I’ve asked the old guy who lives next door how to use the ride-on lawnmower. I also asked him to differentiate for me the weeds from the non-weeds scattered around Thomas’s estate. When Thomas gets back from his trip, I’ll run the idea by him. The worst thing he can say is, “Hell no.”

  “Isn’t it too cold to be swimming in the lake?”

  Seven walks us down the steep hillside. He’s careful, his steps slow and steady, but the grass is wet. He slips. Righting himself, he jostles me closer to his body. I inhale a deep breath at our close call from tumbling down the hillside, and catch a whiff of Seven’s scent. Cinnamon and the distinct smell of wet grass from today’s earlier rainstorm.

  “Should Hannah be near the water if she’s drunk?”

  My voice is steady. Inside, my lungs aren’t expanding like they should with every breath I take. Seven and I are too close. The hair on his arm brushes my skin. His warm breath coasts over the shell of my ear.

  It’s unnerving having a guy this close to me. It’s also unnerving how hyperaware my body is to his. I swear his heart beats in time to mine, and our breathing is in sync too.

  And the way he’s stroking my flesh above my knee . . . Jesus, I’m heating up from the inside out. Thank goodness we’re at the guesthouse. I’m ready to pass out from the sheer torture of his fingertips on my sensitive skin.

  He sets me on my feet. I let myself inside the guesthouse. To my annoyance, Seven follows me inside and plops down onto my couch. I look away from how well his shirt, wet from my swimsuit, clings to his skin.

  “Who says anything about swimming?”

  It hits me what they could be doing in their swimsuits. “Are you saying the girls wanted to parade in front of you guys in their bikinis?”

  “Yeah. We boys would bid on the girls. Winner gets the girl. The girls get the money. A win-win.”

  “That’s pathetic.”

  “To you.”

  “Demeaning too.”

  “And beauty pageants aren’t? Or how about strip clubs? Or something like Thunder Down Under?”

  “Thunder down what?”

  He smirks. “It’s like Magic Mike but Australian dudes in Vegas.”

  “No matter how magical or Outbackishly sexy they are, I wouldn’t partake.”

  “Partake? Not interested in hot dudes? You’re a prude. Or are you into girls?”

  “Believe me, I’m into guys. And if I’m a prude because I don’t believe sexuality should be flaunted, then okay, I’m a damn prude.”

  “If it’s not looks and sexuality, then what is there to look forward to in a girl?”

  Is this guy for real?

  “Oh, I don’t know, maybe someone to laugh and cry with. To share secrets and heartache with. To dream with. To argue with just to have some kissing and making up to do later. There are many reasons to want to spend time with someone.”

  “And obedience?”

  I growl under my breath. This guy is off his rocker, having been hit in the head one too many times.

  “Obedience is boring,” I snap.

  Obedience is silence, and my silence made it okay for a horrible guy to continue hurting my mother, holding power, influence, and his arrogance over her head.

  “But if it’s obedience you’re wanting, you should practice what you preach. Word is you’ve been very disobedient. Partying. Not keeping up with your studies. Talking back to the coach. Picking fights on the field.”

  “Keeping tabs on me, huh, Leigh?”

  He gets up off the couch and stalks toward me. I
back up until I’m against the edge of the breakfast bar.

  I cross my arms and tip my chin at him. “I don’t keep tabs on anyone, so don’t flatter yourself. Everyone knows you’ve been short-tempered and distracted.”

  “Short-tempered and distracted?” He reaches out and snaps the strap on my swimsuit. “Should I be short-tempered and distracted by you, Leigh?”

  Why does he have to say my name like that, with heat and something wicked? Like he wants a taste of me, licking me from head to toe before he takes a chunk out of me with his perfect, pearly white teeth?

  “That’s Safari to you.” I push him out of the way and barge past him, ready to show him out.

  He grabs me by the arm and swings me around. I collide into his chest. He grasps my chin and tilts my face up, forcing me to look him in the eye.

  “Not so fast. You owe me for saving your life.”

  His gaze drops to my mouth. I twist out of his hold.

  “Sorry, but I’m not in the business of owing anyone anything.”

  Bypassing the hard glint in his eyes and his clenched jaw, I grab my backpack off the floor, heave its weight to my chest, and shove it into his.

  “The battery I took from your truck. Now, we’re even.”

  5

  SEVEN

  “Hey, man, you all good here?”

  I glance up from beneath the hood of my pickup truck. Malice and Trace are jogging toward me. I lower the hood and grab my backpack off the ground.

  I cannot believe Leigh stole the fucking battery. When did she have the time, and most importantly, who the fuck helped her? The girls I know don’t know their way around the inside of a truck, much less have the strength to cart off in her backpack a heavy-as-a-load-of-bricks truck battery.

  “Hey, have you seen the new girl?”

  “You should be asking yourself that,” Trace says. “She was last seen with you.”

  We didn’t make it to last night’s party. Instead, I straddled a lounge chair and stared a hole in Henry’s face with my hands tented over my mouth while my friends and teammates shot the breeze with him and his friends about college life and college girls.