AllFreeNovel
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I don’t reply, I just walk away. Confused as fuck as to why she was being nice to me and wonder what game she is playing. I head upstairs to our room, our bedroom door is wide open, and I curse her for leaving it open. I hate the thought of someone snooping through my stuff. I have to remind myself that only we can get access to this level. All the other Alphas can get to any level, bar this one, and my friends have no reason to come into my room. I remove my shirt and throw it into the dirty hamper and slip my shoes off and take them into the walk-in closet and put them on the shoe rack on my side.
Her side is still bare. I wonder what her home life was like, and why her father hasn’t had all of her things shipped over. Shit, my things were here before I was and all ready to be hung up. My mother would have hired someone to unpack for me if I wasn’t so weird about my privacy.
After I shower, I hear voices from downstairs. I slip on a pair of black Calvin Klein shorts and a white shirt and my black hat.
Once I’m fully dressed, I walk back down to the lounge room, but the voices are in the kitchen. Everyone is back and looking through the kitchen.
“Did you do this?” Cuyler asks me the moment my feet hit the bottom stair, pointing to the inside of the fridge. Each shelf is stacked nicely and has a tag with our name on it. All of the fruit and veg has been put into containers.
“Do you really think I spent my morning putting away your groceries?”
“No, but since the new girl has made it clear she really doesn’t like us,” Rebel says, pulling out an apple.
“Hey, speak for yourself,” Cuyler adds. “She doesn’t hate me yet.”
“Did that bitch drink my juice?” Wilder snaps, holding up the bottle and inspecting the small amount missing.
“Nah, that was me. I forgot to order some,” I say, covering for her before I even realise what I’m doing. He stares at me but doesn’t say anything. He knows I don’t really like his stupid breakfast juice. “Did you find out when your father is going golfing with my father?”
I change the subject quickly, this girl has me all messed up. One second, she hates me and looks at me like I’m the devil reincarnated, and today, she packs away our groceries as if nothing happened, and maybe that should have me running scared, she has to be plotting something. I know that’s what I would do.
“Yeah, around lunch time. We all dipped when he said he wanted to talk to Lux. It’s the same old bullshit. The sun shines out of her ass, and I don’t even like her ass but get a lecture because those dipshits both want to fuck her. I don’t get why they don’t just share her. It’s not like they haven’t shared before.” Rebel complains, and his brothers throw him murderous glares. They would rather fight it out than talk about it, which is what we would all do if we were in the same situation. I don’t get the fascination with Lux, she is hot, I suppose, in an old-school Kesha kind of way.
When we all move into the living area, Cyrus is half seated on the arm of the lounge, her phone pressed to her ear. “Celine, it's fine. I don’t need new clothes, I can make do with what I have here. We’re allowed to get a day pass and leave the island, so I’m sure if I have forgotten anything, I can go and buy it.”
I know she is lying, she has fuck all here. I watch as she rolls her eyes. She clearly doesn’t like this Celine. “I don’t need summer stuff, you know I only wear long sleeves. Believe it or not, I don’t care what boys think.”
A tear starts running down her face, and my blood starts to boil. I storm over to her and snatch the phone from her hands and end the call.
“Diesel, what the fuck?! I was talking to my dad’s fiancée.”
“The sound of your voice was annoying the fuck out of me and the tears. Jesus, keep your calls to your room when I’m not here.” I spit, throwing her phone towards her, and she fumbles with it but doesn’t drop it.
“You’re such a fucking asshole,” she snaps.
“If you need clothes, fresh meat, I’m happy for you to spend the night in my room and wear my things. I don’t mind sharing.” Rebel laughs, and she flips him off.
A growl vibrates in my chest, and I storm from the room. I know my father isn’t due to leave the house for a while, but I need to find out what his fucking deal is with Cyrus. I don’t need her around, fucking up my senior year, and I’m no damn babysitter. I had a goldfish once, and it died in a week. I’m not cut out for pets, let alone being responsible for a human.
I take my cart to see my parents. Instead of taking the road, I cut across the oval and tear up the green grass as I go, knowing Principal Baron will tear me a new asshole over it before she reports back to my father. Her CCTV will let her know that it was me, so I flip the bird to the cameras as I pass them.
I park my cart on top of my father’s Agapanthus. I have no idea why he insists on them, but they’re ugly as fuck.
I jog up the stairs and let myself in. “Mum, are you here?”
She comes walking out into the entry, and I stand there for a moment, admiring her. She isn’t like other socialite mothers. Her hair is out, and the humidity makes it look wild and gives it a little frizz. She wears a nice summer dress, something she would have purchased from a cute little boutique–her words not mine–in Sunset Haven. She likes to drive across the bridge and shop like a tourist. She owns hundreds of couture dresses, all sent to her by Cuyler’s mum, Giselle, and she will wear them to events because she doesn’t like to be rude.
“You’re here, I wasn’t expecting you yet.”
“I just wanted to see dad before he heads out to golf with Mr. Langley.”
She eyes me sceptically; she knows that I try to avoid the man as much as possible. “Sure, he should be in his office. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. It won’t take long, and then we can hang out.” I tell her, and she nods.
“I want to go across to the mainland and do some shopping. Your father won’t take me, and he thinks that the thugs all live over there.”
I shake my head. The thugs, seriously? Yet he has a kid connected to the mafia at the school, and I know for a fact that there are a few other crime families tied to our school. I think he is more concerned that the poor will rub off on her.
