Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance - Page 34

Easy day.

“Are you sure about that?” Brantley raised his eyebrows at me. “Looks like they’re headed over this way.” A wicked grin spread along his face, and my fist begged to wipe it off. “Shall we see which Rebel Gemma likes better?”

I scowled and drove my eyes into his. “Don’t, Brantley.” Something potent hit my blood, and I hoped he caught my slight warning. Brantley, along with Cade, knew all about the real reason I was at St. Mary’s, because their fathers were in the family business. My father was their fathers’ boss, for lack of a better word. We’d all seen shit that we wished we hadn’t. Our lives weren’t normal, and our upbringings would probably make grown men recoil, but that wasn’t saying much for the students that attended St. Mary’s. We were all a little fucked up in one way or another. It just depended on the cards each was dealt that determined whose life was worse.

“Has anyone spotted Bain yet?” This question came from Cade as Brantley and I continued staring at one another.

“I have,” Shiner commented from the other side of me.

Shiner wasn’t aware of what my father did for a living or that Brantley, Cade and I knew of each other before we all began attending St. Mary’s. I knew my father had told their fathers to send their sons here at the same time I’d shown up, as a sort of intro to what our futures held, but Shiner somehow made his way into our friendship, and I liked him. He had our backs even if he was unaware of some things. He also knew the ins and outs of this school since he’d been attending here longer than any of us, and that came in handy.

Shiner’s face remained relaxed as he stared out into the party. “Bain has eyes on your girl, Isaiah.”

My blood ran cold as I sharpened my gaze on the room and landed on his beefy stance. Bain was surrounded by a group of guys, who’d all wanted to be a Rebel but didn’t quite make the cut, in the far corner of the basement. Each and every last one of them stood back with their arms crossed over their chests like they were gangsters, gazing out onto the floor with their tongues half hanging out of their mouths as they watched Gemma, Sloane, and Mercedes on the dance floor. Bain’s mouth twitched as he kept watching Gemma, my attention bouncing back and forth between him and her.

Nope.

Before I could even stop myself, knowing damn well that when he saw me with her, he’d want her that much more, I made my way onto the floor, leaving the rest of the Rebels behind. Gemma was in between Sloane and Mercedes, her dark hair tumbling down her back and framing her heart-shaped face as she stood with her back ramrod straight, watching everyone around her dance like their lives depended on it.

Sloane ruffled Gemma’s hair as laughter rushed out of her. “Come on, Gemma. Dance like nobody's watching!” she shouted.

Gemma nibbled on her lip, slowly looking up at everyone around the room who was undoubtedly staring at her, until she saw me. Her eyes widened, the dark makeup surrounding the vivid green color showing me just how out of her element she was.

“What is it?” Mercedes asked, pausing her moving hips for a brief moment.

“It’s me,” I answered, coming around and lazily putting my arm around Gemma’s tense shoulders. She sucked in another breath as our bodies touched, and Sloane gave me a warning look. Her hands graced her hips, but just before she could spit out whatever came to mind, the lights went out, and a voice sounded out from the speakers. “It’s claiming time.”

Chapter Nineteen

Gemma

I gasped, my body frozen with pure, blinding anxiety. “Claiming time?” I asked, wincing at the unease evident in my tone.

“Isaiah,” Sloane’s voice warned from somewhere close by. “She is not ready to be claimed. Pull her off to the side—now.”

Isaiah’s arm that was draped over my shoulders didn’t even move a fraction. “Relax, Sloane,” he whispered. “Don’t you trust me?”

She scoffed quietly. “No. Not even a little bit. Quit fucking around.”

My heartbeat sped up to an inhuman speed. Short puffs of air escaped my chest as I willed my eyes to adjust to the darkness. The room was quiet…so quiet I could hear everyone’s breathing. Confusion filled my senses, making them stall out altogether. I was frantically trying to get my mouth to open to ask what the hell was going on, but my tongue was twisted in a perfect knot with confusion.

Music suddenly cut on again, playing so loudly that I flinched. I snapped my head over to the nearest speaker, wishing I could see into the bleak darkness. “Breathe, Good Gi—” Before Isaiah could say anything else in my ear, a cold hand firmly grabbed my elbow opposite of him, and I was whooshed away, just like that.

Panic coursed through me, and I jerked my arm back so hard I stumbled over my own feet. I knew it wasn’t Isaiah as his arm fell from my shoulders quickly, and his voice and body heat were long forgotten. A cold fear washed over me in thunderous waves, and I had to silently scream at myself to remember that I was far, far away from home at the moment.

“Let me go,” I seethed, pulling my elbow back again. Whoever it was that had me let out a dark, rich chuckle. The music was still blaring, but he was so close to me I felt the rumble of his chest along my arm.

“Now, now, new girl.” His alcohol-ridden breath tickled my ear, and my nose turned upward just before I tripped over something. The grip he had on my elbow grew tighter as he kept me upright. “I just wanted to claim you for the night. You want claimed, don’t you?”

“What does that even mean?” I asked, my voice muffled by the upbeat song. My head was spinning with the mix of darkness and loud music. Everything was in overdrive from the second Sloane and Mercedes had pulled me down the dark hallway after curfew. I should have just stayed in my room and scoured through endless articles revolving around Judge Richard Stallard himself to see if I could uncover anything about what he may have done with my brother.

But no, I just had to come to this party with Sloane and Mercedes, for some godawful reason.

I knew the reason, but at the moment, I wasn’t going to admit it. Not now.

A finger trailed over the side of my face as the guy’s voice penetrated my ear again. I wasn’t sure where we were in regard to where I was standing a few seconds ago, because whoever it was that had me in his grip dragged me sever

al feet away, and I didn’t even know in what direction. “They didn’t tell you the rules of tonight? They didn’t explain what Claiming Night was?” He huffed, his hand on my elbow tightening again as he pushed his body into my backside. Swallowing back the bile and the familiar feeling of disgust, I pushed my fear away and tried to level my breathing. Survive, Gemma. Just survive.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance
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