Sins: A Dark High School Bully Romance Read online

  Astrid dropped her thousand-dollar purse on the floor when she saw me, and before I knew what she was doing, before I could prepare myself for her, her long legs swept her into the room, and she hugged me with the force of a mother who’d lost her only child, a mother who never thought she’d see her baby girl again.

  It was all so hideously fake I wanted to gag.

  I didn’t hug her back; I just stood there, blinking, shocked. Was Astrid always so tall? I might’ve grown a bit during the last five years, but as it was, I still only made it up to her shoulders. I hadn’t inherited her tallness, apparently.

  My mother said nothing, her shoulders shaking as she displayed a careful emotion of sorrowful happiness to the nearby police. Near the door, I saw a whole mini-army of cops watching, including Jacob and the mustached one. It was only then that I hugged Astrid back, taking on the role I had before, all those years ago. The good daughter. The well-behaved daughter. The daughter who never raised her voice and defended herself.

  The daughter who let the monsters use her however they liked.

  “I can’t believe it,” Astrid said, pulling away from me as her voice cracked. Once she pulled back, I saw the water misting over her eyes, and I knew they were not real tears. Perhaps they were, but they were not meant for me. They were for the future, what me being here could mean. Mother was a good liar. “I thought…”

  She needn’t finish that sentence, because everyone in America knew what she thought. They all thought the same. That I was dead, a lost cause. There was only so much news coverage you could do on a girl who vanished after school one day, when her body wasn’t found, in spite of the community-wide searches and the canine units let free on nearby fields.

  The problem was I wasn’t dead. I was still alive.

  Astrid wasn’t really happy; she’d had five years to move on, to make a new life for herself. This had come as a shock to her, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that she was fearful of what this meant. Could she tame me like she’d been able to tame me before?

  Astrid looked back to the police, and her hand found mine. Together, we moved toward her purse, and she picked it up, slinging it over her shoulder. “I am taking my underage daughter home. If you want to question her, either me or my husband must be present.” Reminding them of the law.

  I was seventeen, not too underaged, and I was pretty sure my birthday was coming up, but that was beside the point. I could only stare at her, wondering how she could command a whole slew of police officers.

  The old cop let Astrid and I pass him in the hall. “We’ll call to set up an interview—”

  His words were lost on us as we hurried away. Through the police station, right outside, to where her fancy white car was parked in two spaces—because when you had money, you didn’t care about a lot of things. Money also got you in the clear for many things the poorer folks went to jail for. Money could cover up the worst of crimes, pay mouths to keep silent.

  Money was the worst drug of all.

  Once we were in the car, I fumbled to get my seatbelt on. Astrid leaned over me, whispering, “Here, let me help.” Ever so helpful, such a switch from the mother she used to be. Hmm. Maybe the time had done her some good. Once the seatbelt was clicked in, she paused before starting up the car, staring at me with green eyes that looked like mine. “I just…I just can’t believe it.”

  There she was. There was the real Astrid Chambers. She’d lost the emotion she’d shown in the police station, and she stared at me with thinning lips. She couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe me.

  That made two of us. My gaze fell to my lap. I couldn’t believe it, either.

  Astrid sniffed, acting as if she really had teared up, saying, “Let’s get you home and out of those clothes.”

  Right, because getting out of this plain shirt was the first thing on my mind.

  I stayed silent as I watched the scenery pass by, my gaze glued to the window. I knew she kept looking at me, but I didn’t want to talk to her. A part of me had missed her, but there were a lot of parts of me I couldn’t control. If I knew how to control them, I would’ve killed that part of me, because my mother did not deserve to be missed.

  It turned out, my mother didn’t live in the same house. She lived in an even bigger house, with an actual gatekeeper who let us in. Yes, as in a person paid to sit there at all hours of the day, just for the gate and security. Talk about lavish.

  The house itself sat in a yard with expansive green grass and neatly-trimmed bushes, not to mention a fountain smack dab in the middle of the driveway. A five-car garage, attached to a three story house that looked like it could be well over ten thousand square feet. It was double the size of our old house, and I wondered just how she could afford all of this. She came from money, but she relied on Daddy’s money to pay for everything.

  There was no way Daddy could pay for this.

  Astrid pulled us into the garage, parking us beside a bunch of other expensive, shiny cars. Sportscars, all of them worth a ridiculous amount of money. I got out after she did, and she led me to the door on the far side of it, the door that brought us into the house.

  “Honey,” Astrid spoke, moving before me. We stood in a vestibule of sorts, not a thing out of place, not a spot of dust to be seen. “There is something you should know.”

  I walked past her, emerging into a large, open kitchen. Hanging lights, clean backsplash, even the cabinets were painted white. It was almost too bright for my eyes, just like the outside world was.

  “Your father, he…he left me,” Astrid spoke softly, moving to stand near the island as she placed her purse on it. “I remarried a year ago.”

  Now wasn’t the time to talk about me and what happened. My mother wasn’t the type of person to care about what was happening to everyone else. She really only cared about herself, and the things that would affect her.

  “To who?” I asked, not really caring either way.

  “A wonderful man named Oliver Fitzpatrick.” She fiddled with a rather large diamond on her ring finger, a ring I hadn’t noticed until now. “I’m now a Fitzpatrick-Chambers. You…”

  “I want to keep my last name,” I said, not sure why I declared it so boldly, proudly. As if the Chambers last name was something to be proud of. It wasn’t. It was a stain on my heart, a crack in my soul. It was a part of me just like my past was, and maybe that was the reason I couldn’t get rid of it.

  “Of course,” Astrid said, smiling sadly. “I asked Ollie to keep out of the house for a little while. I wanted to give you time to adjust to it first.”

  Oh, how thoughtful of her.

  Up the grand staircase, down a long hall. This house I was sure to get lost in. I followed my mother to a room that was mine, full of my old things, items I hadn’t touched or seen in years. Stuffed animals, my pink sheets and the canopy above my bed. Nothing at all had changed, except the layout. Even the same painted canvases hung on the light pink walls.

  A lot of pink, which I wasn’t really feeling anymore, not after everything.

  Astrid studied me as I walked in. “We had your room moved. It’s not quite the same, but…I never got rid of anything. I’ll take you clothes shopping in the morning, if you’re feeling up to it.” She broke out into a sad, pained smile, and she was hugging me again within a few moments, petting my messy hair and whispering, “I’m so glad you’re back. These last few years…I thought I’d lost you. I love you so much, honey. I hope you know that.”

  Words. Fluffy words meant to make me feel better, and yet they didn’t. How could they, after everything? She was a liar, a deceiver, a snake in the grass. This was only a show to try to soothe me in an ill-attempt to make sure I wouldn’t talk. The truth? The truth was so much worse.

  The truth was no words would make me feel better. I was a broken shell of a girl, and the only reason I lasted so long was because of Him.

  My kidnapper was my savior.

  Chapter Three – Zane

  I shouldn’t b
e back at the house, but I was. I’d told my dad that I was heading out, and I’d taken the car around the block, only to come back home. My dad was off doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t at work or at the house, and I was eager to see her.

  How could I not be? Celeste Chambers, the girl who’d captivated America with her pretty blonde hair, gorgeous green eyes, and her sweet, innocent smile. Dad hadn’t met Astrid until after Celeste was taken, but pictures of her hung everywhere in Astrid’s old house. Plus, you know, the news. It was hard not to watch the news sometimes, especially when your dad was a lawyer for the rich and famous.

  Anticipation danced in my veins as I drove the car up to the gate, flashing a pearly white smile at Frank, the daytime guard. He was a good enough guy, though if we ever had a real emergency, I couldn’t help but wonder how much use he’d be. A man his size didn’t exactly spring into action.

  Frank was unaffected by my smile—one of the few people I knew who didn’t fall for the pretty boy persona I wore. He leaned against the open window, giving me a blank look. “Weren’t you asked to make yourself scarce while Celeste gets situated?”

  I shrugged. “I forgot something.” When he only stared at me more, refusing to open the gate, I added, “Come on, Frank, you can’t keep me out of my own house.” Words of truth the guard could not deny. This was my house; I lived here.

  Most twenty-three-year-olds didn’t live at home, but as it was, I was a special case. Astrid was always on me about finding a job and all that, but for now, my excuse was college. I was going—taking as few classes as I could to be considered a student—but I was technically a student still. Didn’t do well in them, because my attention was always elsewhere, but she didn’t need to know that. She wasn’t my mother. Stepmother, yes. Real mother, no.

  Real mother had been dead for a while.

  “Fine,” Frank relented, “but if Mrs. Fitzpatrick asks, you strong-armed me.”

  I let out a laugh as he opened the gate. Me, strong-arming someone? Nah. I liked to be more direct.

  I took the car into the garage and was in the house within a few minutes, tiptoeing around as if I was afraid of seeing Astrid. I wasn’t afraid of my stepmother. I’d be the first to admit there was something I didn’t like about her, though. Something that made me stop and wonder if she really was as ditzy as she acted.

  Would Celeste be anything like her now that she was home? I couldn’t help but wonder. Heck, I couldn’t help but wonder a lot of things. Would she be broken? Would she be afraid? Would she never recover from her kidnapping?

  I peeked my head into the kitchen, expecting to find Astrid there, waiting to scold me. As if she had any right to. Luckily, she wasn’t there, and I was able to walk right in and head up the stairs with no problems. It was a big house. You could go hours without seeing each other. I remembered what room was Celeste’s—Astrid had refused to get rid of her things, which made sense, I guess. If I had a kid who was kidnapped, I’d never want to give up on them, either.

  Still, with Astrid, I felt like it was something more than that.

  The door to the bathroom was shut further down the hall, and I imagined her in there, bathing away all the grime. Probably shouldn’t imagine my stepsister naked, but…they were innocent thoughts, really. I swear.

  Mostly.

  I meandered into her bedroom, sticking my hands in my pockets, resisting my urge to touch everything. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in her room, but it was the first time I was here and she was, too.

  Celeste…I never thought this day would come.

  It felt a little anticlimactic, but maybe that was because I hadn’t seen her yet. There was no press outside, no news outlets reporting that she’d been found. Not yet. That media storm would come soon enough, and they’d be relentless. They’d all want to know how she was, what happened to her.

  I moved to the dresser, where a picture sat. Celeste, when she was younger. Ten or eleven, hugging her best friend. Such an innocent face, but then again, I knew better than anyone that sometimes it was the innocent ones you had to watch out for. Mine especially. No one should trust me, but they did. They always did.

  I had the smile of an angel, the body of the devil, and the mind of a monster. My smile fooled you, my body tempted you, and my mind dissected all the ways I could make you scream. Yes, trusting me was always a mistake.

  It’d been so long since I’d found someone I liked, someone who could challenge me.

  Down the hall, the door to the bathroom opened, and I turned, waiting, wanting to watch her walk into the room. Needing to see her to know…I couldn’t even say. To know something. To get a gut feeling on her. To see just what the big deal about Celeste was. I knew what everyone wanted me to think, but I made my own decisions.

  And then, suddenly, there she was.

  There she was, walking into her bedroom, running a towel over her wet hair to catch the excess wetness. She wore clothes that were obviously not hers—her mother’s clothes, I think. A frumpy blouse and a pair of jeans that were designer brand. I couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath that blouse, and because the fabric was so thin, her nipples showed.

  Her blonde hair was long, a mess of knots. It took her a while, but she eventually turned and saw me. The towel Celeste was using on her hair moved to her chest; she was well-aware she wore no bra, too. Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. “Who—”

  Even a little wild and unkempt, Celeste was beautiful. Even in her mother’s clothes.

  Did Astrid not tell her about me? The look on Celeste’s face said she didn’t, and I couldn’t help but wonder if me being here took her back to the last five years. Celeste’s eyes dropped to my feet, slowly trailing up, taking in my stance, my body, the way I was smiling at her like a kid in a candy shop.

  My mind kept repeating: uh-oh. I’m in trouble. If there was one person in the world that was off-limits, it was her. Not only was she my stepsister, but her past was one full of darkness and pain.

  I gave her a dimpled grin, moving closer to her, offering her a hand as I said, “I take it Astrid didn’t tell you about me. I’m Zane, Ollie’s kid.” When she made no moves to take my hand, I added, “Your stepbrother.”

  Celeste still didn’t move to take my hand. I couldn’t blame her, I suppose, because I was a stranger. A strange man in her room, one she hadn’t been expecting. And after what she went through…distrust must run deep in those veins.

  “Why are you in my room?” Celeste asked, her wide, green eyes meeting mine. I couldn’t tell if she was just curious or afraid.

  I decided to be honest: “I wanted to meet you, even though Astrid wanted me to wait.” I wasn’t always honest, in fact I lied more often than I didn’t, but still. Sometimes honesty was the best policy. My gaze fell to her clothes. “You look uncomfortable wearing your mom’s things.”

  “They’re the only clothes I have. Mother didn’t want me in the ones the police gave me.” Celeste’s shoulders shrugged. She was a thin girl, but she wasn’t overly thin. She had curves in all the right places, no bones poking out where they shouldn’t be. I could only imagine how good she’d look without those clothes…no, bad Zane. Definitely shouldn’t think about that.

  Grinning, I said, “Right. Can’t have you looking like a hobo, can she?”

  At that, a slow, gentle smile grew on Celeste’s face. “They were more comfortable, but she took them before I was done showering. She probably burned them.” Though she was being sarcastic, I think, it did sound like something Astrid would do.

  “You could wear something of mine, if you want. I’m sure that’ll annoy Astrid just as much.”

  She let out a laugh—a smooth, fluid sound that fell on my ears like warm honey. “That’s true.” Her eyes shifted to the hallway for a moment, and she put it together. “You live here, too?”

  “Oh, the entire town could live in this house, and we’d still have empty rooms.” A terrible exaggeration, but it served its purpose; s
he smiled again. God, I think I could learn to live for those smiles, those rare, elusive things that only came out when everything was just right.

  Celeste’s gaze ate me up, and it was a long while before she muttered a soft “Okay.”

  It was as I left her room, as I made my way to mine, that I let myself smile again. She was pretty, that was for sure. This whole thing was going to make this place a lot more interesting.

  Once I made it to my room on the third floor, I closed the door behind me. I moved to my dresser and pulled out an old t-shirt and some soft sweats. Celeste was short, but she could roll the waist part down and really piss off Astrid in the process. When the clothes sat on my bed, I moved to the window on the far side of the room, pulling out my cell phone. I dialed the one number I probably shouldn’t, because he’d told me he was busy.

  Still, I just couldn’t wait. I couldn’t hold it in.

  He picked up on the fourth ring, not sounding too happy. “What is it? I told you—”

  “I know,” I cut in. “I just…she’s perfect.”

  Perfection. Something humanity constantly tried to have but always failed, something that was so rare and uncommon, most people thought it didn’t exist. Those people had obviously never met Celeste before. She brought perfection with her anywhere she went, effortless, and I knew with her here, my life was about to change.

  No, not just my life. Everything.

  Chapter Four – Celeste

  I knew my mother wouldn’t be happy about me wearing Zane’s clothes, but I didn’t care. I hated her clothes with a passion, hated everything they stood for—namely, our money, our name. As if our money and our name meant anything these days. No, the darkness loved everyone equally, whether you were rich or poor, fashionable or not. It wasn’t picky.

  Astrid had brought me a few pairs of her clothes, including bras and underwear, to which I refused. Even if my mother’s chest was the same size as mine, there was no way in hell I’d wear her bra or anything else intimate. Mother just didn’t want me wearing anything that came with me. The bra and panty set I’d been wearing had been a gift from Him; I didn’t tell Astrid that, though. Somehow she just knew.