When we walk back into Jamesâ after what was probably the most enjoyable breakfast of my life, itâs like an entirely different house to the one we left earlier. The smashed bottles, empty cans, and cigarette butts no longer litter the floor and every available surface. Instead, everything is back to how it used to be. Itâs a show home once again.
âWhat the fuck?â Conner asks, crashing into my back when I stop abruptly, not able to believe what Iâm seeing.
âApparently, money can buy happiness. This is fucking epic.â
I nod as Conner sidesteps me and heads toward the kitchen. How the fuck he can still be hungry after the number of pancakes he put away earlier god only knows.
I glance at Cole, who stands silently beside me, taking in the scene.
âNeat,â he finally says before pulling his cell out and disappearing toward our staircase to hide.
âYou need to spend the weekend making sure youâre ready for Monday.â
He glances over his shoulder and narrows his eyes. I donât need his words, I know heâs telling me to tone it down a notch and let him do his thing. But my brother needs to realize the only reason Iâm here right now is for him and Conner, to ensure they have a decent shot at life. There has to be something good that can come out of this. Chances are, Iâll still end up in prison, with or without this place. But my brothers? Theyâve now got the world at their feet and enough money around them for all their dreams to come true. And Iâm going to make fucking sure they do. Starting with Cole.
âGet changed. Grab a ball. Meet me in the yard.â
He rolls his eyes but moves to do exactly as heâs told. Heâs been on the wrong end of my fists more than once to know itâs in his best interests to just listen to me.
There may only be a year between me and them, but never doubt that they know who the oldest is around here.
At hearing voices in the kitchen, I come to a stop just out of sight. It wouldnât be out of the question for James to have returned early. He knows all about the party, or at least Iâm assuming he does after the twenty-five missed calls and handful of texts demanding that I call him. But Iâd like to think heâd have heard us by now and would already be attempting to rip me a new one. If he thinks Iâm going to do what Iâm told over text, then he really needs to realize who heâs invited to live in his house. He might have been absent for most of our lives, but I thought he knew the kind of kids he was dealing with.
âThis smells incredible, Martha,â Conner says as the sweet smell of more pancakes hits my nose.
âMartha?â Ellen asks, sounding confused. Itâs a common thing where Conner is concerned. Some random ass shit falls from his mouth at times.
âYeah, Martha. Like the legend that is Martha Stewart.â
Ellen chuckles. âWell, I donât know about that, my dear. But I do my best.â
âYour best? You saw this place this morning. Thatâs some mad fucking skills youâre rocking to get it whipped back into shape so fast.â
âI have my ways.â
âApparently so,â I say, marching into the room, gaining both of their attention the second I do. âBut what I want to know is why? Why not leave it for us to deal with? For James to find?â
Ellen looks between the two of us, a sympathy in her eyes that I donât want to fucking see.
âIt was the right thing to do. I know youâre just settling in, trying to find your feet. I expected it.â She shrugs and turns back to her batter.
Connerâs brow creases, but he soon accepts her words, whereas Iâm suspicious as fuck. No one does something nice like that just because. Thereâs always a motive. Always.
âWould you like some pancakes?â Ellen asks, looking at me.
âNo. Iâm going to help Cole with practice. Maybe youâll join us when youâve finished filling your face,â I bark at Conner before marching from the room.
As I walk down the hallway toward the back of the house, Coleâs feet thunder down the stairs, and when he catches up to me heâs wearing his old Heights jersey and has a ball tucked under his arm.
âYouâre going to be the best damn player this town has ever fucking seen, you hear me?â
He nods before running ahead to warm himself up.
Part of me expected James to turn up at some point, but by some miracle we got through the rest of the weekend without him reappearing. After helping Cole, we spent the rest of our free time in the pool house on the Xbox James set up for us.
I should really have gone back to the Heights to pick up some work, but the temptation of just hanging out with my brothers before weâre forced to spend our days with the preppy stuck-up kids of this town day in, day out, was too strong.
By the time Monday morning rolls around, Iâm almost ready to get on my bike and fuck off back to the trailer park. I stand in front of the closet with just a towel wrapped around my waist, staring at the ridiculous uniform Iâm expected to wear.
Iâve never worn a uniform or conformed to anything in my fucking life, and Iâm really not happy about suddenly doing so now.
Throwing the towel onto the bed, I drag a pair of boxer briefs up my legs and snap the waistband into place. Blowing out a really fucking frustrated breath, I reach for the clothes. A grey pair of pants that would probably look right at home on someoneâs ninety-year-old grandad with how high the waist is. A baggy white shirt, a blue tie with the school crest on it, complete with a seahawk in the middle, and a grey fucking blazer with blue trim.
If it werenât for those two motherfuckers down the hall, I would never be seen dead in this shit. I donât give a fuck about the fact I didnât graduate when I should have. Itâs not like I had any need for the fucking diploma. The gang Iâve been drug running for doesnât exactly require qualifications. All they want to know is that you can defend yourself and that youâre willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done, even if you end up with blood on your hands.
âFucking hell,â I mutter, shoving my feet into the offending fabric and fastening the button around my waist.
This is total bullshit.
After running some wax through my hair, I stand in front of the full-length mirror strapped to the wall in the bathroom and canât help but laugh at myself. Iâm like a walking fucking contradiction. Iâm wearing preppy rich douche clothes with my tatts showing on my neck and down my forearms where Iâve rolled my sleeves up. Thereâs absolutely no doubt in my mind that Iâm going to stand out like a sore fucking thumb.
A loud crash sounds out throughout the house before footsteps pound up the stairs.
I pull my bedroom door open with a smirk firmly in place on my lips.
âIs your fucking cell phone broken, boy?â
I make a show of pulling it from my pocket and checking it. âNope, looks perfectly fine to me. Excuse me, Iâve got somewhere I need to be.â
He stands aside before my shoulder crashes into his as I pass, but his hand grips onto my upper arm. His fingers dig in but not enough to actually cause any pain.
I turn on him. My eyes narrow and my lips purse as I go toe-to-toe with the man over twice my age. Heâs tall, but Iâm taller, and itâs painfully obvious to him as heâs forced to look up at me.
âProblem, â
âYou will not throw any more parties here. I very clearly told you the rules, and the first thing you did the second my back was turned was break them.â
âHuh.â I tilt my head to the side as if heâs just asked me some important question. âFunny, because I have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âI wonât put up with your defiance, Ace.â
âWhat are you going to do?â I taunt. âSend me back to the Heights?â His face pales. âNah, I didnât think so. For some fucked-up reason you suddenly want us here.â
âIâve alwaysââ
âCole, Conner,â I bellow in his face, cutting off whatever he was going to say. âLetâs go. We wouldnât want to be late.â
They both emerge from their room dressed exactly like me: loose ties, sleeves rolled up, the lot.
A smirk pulls at the corner of my lips.
Sterling Prep is not ready for this.
After making our way from the house and leaving James exactly where he was, Cole and Conner climb into their car, but I decline their offer of a lift and throw my leg over my bike. I have a suspicion that at some point during today Iâm going to need to make a swift exit to avoid taking a preppy douche out on day one. I couldnât give a fuck about getting kicked out, but I need my brothers settled before I fuck up too much.
Weâre some of the last to arrive, clearly not as excited about the first day of the school year as others. Audis, Mercedes, Porches and other insanely expensive cars for teenagers to drive litter the parking lot.
All eyes turn our way as Cole and Connerâs clapped-out engine sputters into a space before the rumble of my bike follows.
Itâs just like Friday night on the beach with everyone looking our way like weâre new animals at the zoo.
The second I kill my engine, I light up a blunt, needing something to chill me the fuck out before I drive back the exact same way we just arrived. I thought I was done with classes, homework, and school fucking gossip, but the way weâre still holding everyoneâs attention, I think weâre going to be the hot topic of conversation for some time.
The rolling countryside that surrounds the school buildings offers me little reprieve before I turn to where I know all the students are staring at me. I spot the football team in their jerseys. Almost every one has a cheerleader hanging from their shoulders. All eyes are on us, but I donât see the captain anywhere. Heâs probably still at home, crying over his broken nose and black eyes.
âCome on then. Letâs get this show on the road,â I call to my brothers after flicking whatâs left of my blunt to the gravel beneath my feet.
Together the three of us head toward the entrance. The grand, over-the-top buildings looming before us are a million miles away from those at Sterling Heights, which were mostly dirty grey and covered in graffitiâmost of which Iâd put there over the years. Everything about that place was dark and smelled of death and destruction. This place, however, is like something youâd see on a documentary visiting old English manor houses. Everything is perfect. The grass looks like itâs been cut with fucking scissors, the buildings are a spotless cream brick, and all the giant windows seem to still be intact.
Silence falls around the students as we pass. My skin burns and prickles as their eyes run over every inch of me.
The guys who think theyâre something all take a step forward like they have a fucking chance if they were to stand up to me, while the girls flick their hair and lick their lips like we might be fucking interested in their rich, stuck-up pussies.
I think not.
Just before we approach the reception building, a dark pair of eyes catches my attention. Sheâs hiding in the shadows, but still I see her.
Our eyes hold for the briefest of moments before she averts her gaze and turns away from me.
A petite lady in a baby pink twin set scrambles from behind her desk as Conner and Cole slam the doors back on themselves to announce our arrival.
âOh, hello. Iâm Miss Petersonâ¦â Her voice is quiet, almost like a mouse as she looks between the three of us like we might be about to squash her with our bare hands. Itâs totally doable and probably wouldnât take much effort, either.
âJust give us our schedules and weâll be out of your hair, Mrs Peters.â
âIt-itâs Miss Peterson, actually.â
âOf course it is.â I roll my eyes, dropping my hands to my pant pockets and rocking back on my heels, getting impatient as fuck.
âPrincipal Vager is waiting to meet the three of you.â
âGreat. Lead the way.â
She hesitates. âYou⦠um⦠might want toâ¦â She tugs at her sleeves, too scared to actually tell us what to do.
âWeâre good, thanks.â
âO-Okay. T-this way then.â
She knocks the giant walnut double doors before a deep voice calls out for us to enter.
His office is massive with an impressive hand-carved desk that gives him a view of the sea in the distance. Bookshelves line the other walls and are filled with vintage looking books.
âAh, the Jaggers are here,â he announces almost sarcastically, and it puts my back up immediately. âWeâve heard a lot about the three of you.â
âAll good, I hope.â
He scoffs but holds my stare. âIâm sure that youâll soon find yourselves at home here in Sterling Prep.â
âYou think?â
Both Cole and Conner take a seat at his desk when he gestures for us to do so, but I refrain from following orders. Itâs best he learns from the get-go that thatâs not how I do things.
Walking over to one of the bookcases, I run my finger over some of the spines. I stumble upon a collection of Shakespeare.
Pulling one out, I flip it open and discover what I was expecting. First editions. It says a lot about our dear leader. More fucking money than sense.
âI would just like to run through a few things, a few ground rules if you will, and then weâll go over your schedules and you can begin your new life as Sterling Prep students.â His eyes run over the three of us, and I already know whatâs going to come out of his mouth before he says it.
âFirst, I think we should discuss how we expect our uniforms to be worn.â