Real Girl (Aston Creek High 4) - Page 15

Reaching the side of the wide gate, I look up. If I jump, I might just be able to reach the top and haul myself over it.

I take a few steps back and just like I would on the court, I sprint toward the gate and launch myself up into the air. The gate is a shitload higher than any hoop I’ve dunked into, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.

My fingers hook onto the top and I pull myself up, finally able to get a good view of the place Skylah and Blake called home for thirteen long years. Scratch that, this shit ain’t no home. It’s a fucking mansion built for the elite of the elite.

I can only imagine the kinds of parties these guys would have had here. I would have fucking loved growing up in a home like this, you know if Maria and Lucien weren’t there too. I bet Blake had a fucking indoor court.

I jump down from the gate, landing in a low crouch and I stare up at the property. It’s going to take me forever to make my way up this long drive, but I’ve got nothing to lose. I’ve come all this way, sat in my truck for hours on end. I’m not turning around now. My girl is inside those walls and the only way I’m leaving without her is if he kills me first.

After climbing the grand stairs, I get to the front door of the house, and to be honest, I’m fucking surprised I’ve gotten this far without security coming at me or freaking hounds. Lucien seems like the kind to have attack dogs, though, I’m sure he also likes to be the one doing the attacking.

I try the handle and upon finding the door locked, I slam my fist down on the hardwood. “Open the fucking door,” I demand, assuming the fucker is waiting just on the other side, but when nothing happens, I bang my fist again. “Give me my fucking girl and we’ll leave peacefully.”

I wait for a beat and again; nothing.

I should have known he wasn’t going to play this easily. I guess it’s time for plan B.

I jog down the stairs and start making my way around the property, glancing into every window, and struggling not to be shocked by the kind of money these people have on display around their home. It’s fucking ridiculous.

I pass a tennis court and a pool that’s bigger than my fucking house. There’s a huge outdoor entertaining area complete with a cinema and recliners. There’s a bar, a fucking kitchen, a basketball court with a seating area, and who can forget the fancy gardens with a maze made out of hedge bushes.

This shit is seriously insane. I don’t understand the appeal. I mean, sure, I understand wanting to be comfortable and being able to buy nice things for your family, but this is taking it to a whole other level. This is fucking sick. I’m actually kind of embarrassed to say this guy is my biological father.

I cut through the outdoor cinema to a huge bay window and glance in. The place looks fucking dead inside. A home like this should have staff wandering around everywhere, maids dusting and groundsmen pruning, but nothing. It feels cold and lonely and I’m left wondering if Skylah’s whole life has been like that or if it’s just like this now while Lucien is laying low.

I look around for some sign of movement, something that tells me that Skylah is here, but there’s nothing. No lights on, no sound, not even a scrap of dirt that suggests someone’s been in here.

I keep walking.

“SKY?” I holler.

I may as well let myself be known. They know I’m here anyway and now they need to know that I’m not about to back out without a fight. “VIRAGO? Where are you?”

I glance up at the second story. That’s going to be an issue. This isn’t some Romeo and Juliet scene where I have a balcony I can climb. There’s literally nothing. If I want to check the second story, I have to get inside.

I have to walk out into the grass to keep going and as I glance in the next window from afar, I finally find her. She’s sitting at a desk, looking at something to the side of the room.

“SKYLAH,” I yell.

Her head whips around and even from here, I see the tears heavy in her eyes.

Sky flies up off the desk chair and runs to the window, throwing her hands against the glass. She looks fucking terrified. There’s only been one time I’ve seen her looking like that and that was when we were in the middle of the fucking river, struggling to free ourselves.

Something’s wrong.

I start running and as she screams, Lucien steps out in front of me, gun held high, aimed right at my chest.

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