Ruthless Princess Page 4

  “No. Not really,” he said with a careless air. “Hey, Xavier, how’s the leg healing up?

  Xavier shrugged. “Pretty good, coach says I should still start this weekend.”

  “It would be a shame then, wouldn’t it?” Junior moved past me and started circling Xavier while his friend Penn held up his hands like he wanted nothing to do with us.

  Great, another guy bites the dust.

  “Junior,” I warned him, finally turning to face him.

  “What would be a shame?” Xavier puffed his chest out. Bad idea. Bad idea! Couldn’t he tell Junior smelled blood and actually liked harming people? Got off on it in a way that was so horribly necessary in our world that nobody had ever held him back? Only encouraged it?

  “If you lost it.” Junior’s grin was fierce.

  “Lost it?” Xavier looked genuinely confused. “How would I lose my leg? I’m not really following, Bro.”

  I almost groaned out loud.

  “I’m so fucking glad you asked, man.” Junior wrapped a bulky arm around Xavier, and it was shocking how incredibly built Junior was even standing next to a collegiate athlete. “First, I’d give you a head start. What do you think, Serena? Maybe like thirty seconds?”

  There was no point in stopping him, Junior had sniffed the blood, and now he would attack, and I had to keep up pretenses even when all I wanted to do was tell Xavier to run. I lifted one shoulder and let it fall like I didn’t care. “At least thirty.”

  “Perfect,” Junior rasped, enjoying the game more than was natural, or human. “And after that thirty seconds, I’d, of course, come after you with a gun in my right hand, and a knife in the other, and you’d naturally notice some psycho chasing you so you’d run faster, but the shit deal here is this, I’m really fast, and also I have a gun. Ask Serena if I play fair.”

  Xavier gulped and locked eyes with me. “Does he play fair?”

  “Cheats at everything and on everyone,” I said with venom noticing something flicker in Junior’s eyes before he turned back to Xavier.

  “So…” Junior semi-backed off. “You’d most likely go down after I shoot directly through your Achilles, and well, I’m not a total monster. I mean, I would for sure want to put you out of your misery, so I’d shoot your leg again, and then, I don’t know man, sometimes the ambulance, it takes forever to get on campus…” They stood chest to chest. “Feel me?”

  Xavier wasn’t backing down. “Try me.”

  “All right then.” I grabbed Junior by the arm, ignoring the flex of his bicep. “He gets it, Junior, no flirting.”

  “Fuck.” Xavier shook his head. “This is because I’m talking to your girl? Just tell me next time, man.”

  “She’s not mine,” Junior snapped.

  And I felt it again, the slow spread of pain that started exactly where my heart was supposed to be, the cold metal of his blade as he twisted and twisted until it hurt to breathe.

  She’s not mine.

  She’s not mine.

  She’s not mine.

  “Then you have no claim.” Xavier flipped him his middle finger and turned to me at about the same time Junior lunged.

  I blocked the first punch with my own body, nearly doubling over from the pain. “Junior, he’s right, let’s go.”

  “If you so much as breathe in her direction—”

  I shoved Junior out the door.

  Thankfully he let me, probably because he knew he was acting like a petulant asshole.

  “The fucking nerve of that guy!” Junior turned apparently to go back and tell the guy he was going to shoot him anyway.

  “Leave it.” I yawned. “I don’t want him anyway.”

  Junior’s chest heaved. “Nixon would murder you if you started sleeping around with the football team.”

  I stopped walking. “I flirt with one guy, and suddenly I’m whoring myself out for the football team? Are you for real right now?”

  Junior shrugged. “All I’m saying is—”

  I punched him in the jaw before I could get my anger under control and felt at least two fingers crack, followed by the rapid swelling of my hand. I’d have to ice them later. Worth it.

  He went down to the grass.

  At least a hundred students saw.

  Silence descended as I stepped over Junior with my stiletto heels and then called over my shoulder. “Got a little something, right here.”

  He jumped to his feet and lunged for me—that’s the other thing; if you start a fight, you best be ready to continue it.

  I kicked off my heels and moved to the grass while he peeled his shirt over his head and tossed his gun and knife to the ground.

  I threw my bag to the grass, took out my hoop earrings and dropped them onto my bag, then slid up my leather skirt and grabbed both daggers that were strapped to my thigh and tossed them with his weapons and shrugged. “Gun’s in the purse.”

  “We doing this?” His eyes lit up with amusement.

  “Wait.” I took two steps toward him. “I need a little slit so I can do my roundhouse kick justice.”

  “No problem.” He gripped my skirt with both hands and looked up at me with those teal eyes, grabbed his knife again and dug it a few inches into the leather, and then ripped all the way up to my thigh, “Ah, memories, memories.”

  “Pretty sure you never ripped my skirt like that.”

  “Only your panties.” He winked. “Which I feel the need to remind you—I have in my pocket, I’d be careful not to give everyone a free show—at least charge something, Serena…”

  And just like that, I wanted to end him.

  Sweaty bodies.

  His tongue.

  I gave my head a shake as he wet his bottom lip and then slowly stood until we were chest to chest. I wasn’t short, but he was massive compared to my five-foot-seven frame.

  “First blood wins?” He cocked his head to the side, a smirk playing at his full lips.

  Without answering, I kneed him in the balls. “Sure, first blood.”

  He made a face and dropped to his knees. “You slut!”

  I bowed. “What? You in too much pain?”

  “One day,” He moved to his feet, teeth clenched. “I’m going to murder you in your sleep.”

  “That day, dear Junior…” I did a little curtsy. “Isn’t today.”

  He charged me, throwing me over his shoulder, and slamming me onto the ground.

  I rolled out from under him, as he came down with an elbow, then jumped to my feet and kicked him in the stomach, he grabbed my foot and spun me out onto my back then straddled me with his body.

  “Surrender.” He pinned my wrists to the grass.

  I moved under him, and then realized he wasn’t packing—a gun at least, but something extremely hard was pressing into me.

  I sucked in a sharp breath while he ground his hips into mine, then leaned down and tugged my right ear with his teeth. “Methinks you’re just sexually repressed. All you had to do was say something, and I could be of service…”

  I jerked my head away from him. “I would rather die.”

  “And you just might.” He chuckled darkly.

  My body responded even though I didn’t want it to, I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering all the years of tedious training from my family and relaxed beneath his touch. “Junior?”

  “Surrendering?”

  My eyes snapped open as I bucked against him then managed to get a foot out from underneath him enough to wrap up.

  He flipped me back around, but I was able to get on his back and get an arm underneath his chin, I pulled tight, my legs wrapped while I tried to cut off his oxygen.

  “Let me guess, this turns you on too?” I bit his neck and vaguely realized that we were being watched by a ton of people.

  I didn’t care.

  I just wanted to win.

  He started pulling at my arms, and then he stilled and flipped me over his front, slamming me back into the ground and knocking the wind out of me.

  “
I win.”

  “You said first blood,” I pointed out, a bit breathless, and then I smiled, knowing he’d see the blood on my teeth.

  “The hell?” He touched his neck where I’d bitten him.

  I licked my lips and winked. “I win.”

  He burst out laughing and held out his hand to me. “Fair’s fair.”

  I jumped to my feet and started grabbing my stuff while he put his shirt back on and continued to shake his head.

  “What the hell was that?” Ash and Claire ran over to us with Izzy in tow.

  Junior just shrugged and then turned around to the crowd. “Are you not entertained?”

  Cheers erupted.

  I gave Junior a high five. “Sorry Ash, he was cockblocking me again.”

  Claire laughed. “So, this is all over what? A guy asking you out on a date?”

  I scrunched up my nose. “Didn’t get that far because dick for brains over here threatened to shoot off the star quarterback’s Achilles tendon!”

  “Nice.” Ash gave Junior a fist bump.

  I sighed. “Can we be done with the first day of classes now and party?”

  Claire grabbed her phone. “Ugh, I have one more class, but I’ll meet you guys later tonight?”

  “Same spot?” Ash was clearly following her to class, more like stalking her.

  “Same.” I needed to shower first and rub some CBD all over my already achy and bruised body, but other than that, I was ready to let loose.

  Izzy’s blue eyes searched my body before she looked back at Ash, “I actually have some homework, I’m gonna head back. Maksim said he’d help.”

  Of course he did, Maksim was a friggin’ genius.

  “Iz,” Ash wrapped an arm around her. “Homework can wait. It’s the first party of the entire year; you know they expect us to host.”

  Izzy sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Sitting on a fucking throne?” Junior piped up. “No, that’s our right.”

  “The elite of the elite,” I added. “It’s the expectation, and you know the real reason for all of this. To be so blatantly arrogant that we draw out our enemies and pick them off one by one.”

  “Well.” Izzy sighed. “The fight sure helped things!”

  “Hey,” Junior sobered. “All that matters is keeping our family safe, and if we get to act like idiots in the process, that’s our gain, not our loss.”

  “I know.” Izzy’s face fell. “I just… sometimes I worry you guys are getting too distracted, not paying attention, I mean did you even look over the new student registration today?”

  “Yes,” Junior and I said in unison.

  “Why?” Asher and Claire shared a confused look as Breaker, Tex’s son, jogged over to us all six-foot-five of him.

  Kid was huge and still growing at nineteen. “We’ve got a problem.”

  Dread filled my stomach. “What?”

  He ran his hands through his long reddish-brown hair, girls compared him to a young Johnny Depp, and he looked it more and more every day only somehow more attractive.

  Tex said it just meant his sperm was the best even though we all knew that Breaker was adopted.

  Ah, the Capo, couldn’t live with him, would die without him.

  “So, I was making out with this transfer.” He stopped his story to give high fives to both guys.

  “Get there faster, Breaker. We get it; you’re a manwhore, please continue.”

  “Is it whoring, though, if they just throw themselves at me?” he wondered out loud with a cocky grin.

  I glared.

  “Fine.” He sighed. “So, things were getting hot and heavy—”

  “Naturally,” Junior said in a bored tone.

  Breaker ignored him. “And then she starts talking about how she was so excited to transfer to Eagle Elite because last year she saw some of the kids from the fence and wondered if the rumors were true.”

  “Wait, back up.” I held up my hand. “The fence?”

  “I’m getting there.” He sighed. “So I asked her what fence and who the hell just stares at people?”

  “We do. We do that all the time.” I pointed out. “But our goal is to scare them shitless, not build shrines to people’s hair.”

  “One time,” Breaker said, becoming irritated. “Anyway, so she takes me to the opposite end of campus where sure enough a brand-new fence was put up dividing our property and that old community college that can barely keep its doors open. She said the college got a grant last year and was able to hire better professors, offer scholarships… but the weird part is that the only reason she even knew about what went on here at EE was because the new brochures for the college use our families’ names as a selling point.”

  “Did you get a—”

  “Yes.” He rolled his eyes and held out a brochure.

  I snatched it while the rest of the group huddled around me to read it. And sure enough, on the brochure advertising Chicago Community, was a teaser line that said: “Located next to the notorious Eagle Elite University, funded by the original Five Families. Study side by side with mafia’s elite, and maybe you’ll even be lucky enough to study with them!”

  Below that were several student testimonials of not only hanging out with us but with edited pictures of us.

  Including Breaker.

  My hands shook. “This is bad.”

  “They have our pictures,” Junior cursed.

  “How did this get through our intel?” Breaker asked.

  “Paper.” Izzy sighed.

  I wanted to scream.

  “The only trail is paper,” she elaborated. “No social footprint, nothing online; this is all word of mouth.”

  “The question is, are they trying to make money and boost enrollment, or is this something else?” Ash took the paper and examined it. “What do you think, Junior?”

  Junior was quiet.

  It was unsettling.

  “I think…” He shared a look with me that I knew meant he didn’t like this, not one bit. “I think we’re being targeted. While the De Lange kids can’t enroll in Eagle Elite without getting their parts chopped off and sold—they sure as hell can enroll in the community college next door, and all we have is a fucking fence separating us.”

  My stomach dropped. “We’ll have to vet every single student.”

  “Shit, who has time for that?” Ash groaned into his hands.

  “We have no choice.” I tapped my fingers against my cold leather skirt and nodded at Junior. “We’re going to host our usual back to school party.”

  “And kill everyone?” Claire asked.

  I burst out laughing. “No, we aren’t killing everyone. We’re moving the first party of the year, and we’re inviting our new neighbors.”

  “Uh, is that really the best idea?” Izzy asked, her blue eyes wide. “I mean if people are intoxicated—”

  “No drinking more than one drink.” I crossed my arms. “And everyone needs to be armed, even you, Claire.”

  Ash wrapped an arm around her.

  “I guess all that needs to be decided is…” Breaker looked around the group. “Who gets to tell the dads?”

  “Not it!” we all yelled in unison.

  I groaned. “Fine, we’ll just all go together. Family dinner time!”

  Breaker cursed. “I nearly lost a pinkie last week.”

  “Then stop stealing the bread basket!” I all but yelled. “We have one rule! It’s communal, and I won’t be held responsible for my fork if you try to take more than one roll before it’s been shared with the table!”

  “Best Friday night ever.” Ash burst out laughing.

  Breaker narrowed his eyes. “Yes. So fun. Losing limbs.”

  “Let’s go, no more classes, we gotta decide how to angle this, so nobody gets shot over chicken parmesan.”

  “A year ago, I would have thought you were kidding,” Claire said under her breath.

  “And now?” I grinned.

  “Now I’m alarmed when nobody h
as a weapon.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Junior muttered as we all started walking toward the parking lot.

  I was lost in my own thoughts until I felt a hand on my ass.

  I froze.

  Junior squeezed and then whispered. “Forgetting something?”

  I turned around and frowned, and then he pulled me against him and very strategically shoved my underwear back into my hand and winked.

  “You’re a monster.” I hissed.

  He leaned over and kissed my right cheek, then my left, his teal eyes narrowed in on my mouth. “I’m taking that as a compliment since we both know you prefer monster over man.”

  Chapter Four

  Junior

  People warned me from a young age that there was something tainted in my blood. I laughed it off. After all, my dad was one of the most bad-ass bosses on the planet.

  Not just powerful, but he was my hero.

  He knew everyone’s secrets and used them against them like a chess game that only he knew the rules to.

  Masterful would be one way to describe Phoenix Nicolasi.

  I had no idea that while I was making plans, the rest of the bosses were moving behind our backs, making a list of our strengths, weaknesses, of ways to break us over and over again until all we felt was this craving to win.

  This intense need to prove ourselves.

  To kill in order to do it.

  To crave the blood as much as our next breath.

  “Why!” I yelled at my dad, blood dripping from my mouth as he took another swing at me. I ducked; he narrowly missed my front teeth. “Why!”

  I was screaming.

  And for the first time in my life, at the age of fifteen, my dad shed a tear; it mixed with blood as it slid down his chiseled hard face.

  “Because,” he finally rasped. “It’s the only way.”

  “Fighting me is the only way? Making me bleed?” He went from hero to monster that summer.

  “No, son.” He peeled off his shirt showing too many scars to count; scars that were covered by tattoos and thick bands of muscle that I knew packed a punch that could easily knock me unconscious or hospitalize me. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

  The next blow knocked me off my feet, and the hero-worship I’d had for my father was lost to the darkness of that final gut-wrenching hit. That day he reminded us we were pawns.