Page 60 of Long Live the King

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Page 60 of Long Live the King

I give him a sharp look and say nothing.

Principal Thornton leaves with his company in tow, and Rogue and I are alone once more.

“You call him Phil?” I ask, incredulously, trying to set some distance between us after what just happened. “Do you ever think about how much of an unfair advantage nepotism gives you?”

“Never.” He replies drolly, and I roll my eyes. “What I will be thinking about though is how your tight cunt squeezed my fingers before you came all over my hand.”

I stab a book into the shelf. “We’re not talking about that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was a mistake and it’s not happening again.”

He has the gall to laugh at that. “If you say so.”

“I do.” I say it fiercely, hoping it’ll lend truth to the statement.

He says nothing. He grabs a stack of ‘A’ books I’d left to the side for later when I’d grab a chair to help me reach the top shelf. He starts stacking them into the library, taking care to alphabetize them within the letter ‘A’ as he goes. For a few minutes, we don’t speak, working quietly next to each other.

“What if I told you I could get the permanent note expunged from your records?” He asks. “There’d be no trace of it or the detention in your file.”

I freeze, a book clutched in my hand as it’s raised halfway to a shelf. “How?”

He grins at me and it’s almost playful. “Those nepotism perks aren’t looking so bad now, are they?”

I resist the urge to throw my book at him and narrow my eyes skeptically. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I’d get something in return.”

And there it is. Nothing is ever free with him. An eye for an eye and a favor for a favor, clearly.

I return to angrily stacking books. “Of course, my mistake. Why would you do something nice when you can be a dick about it?”

He towers over me, suddenly in front of me. I look up at him. “I’m not nice, Bellamy. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’d ever be the hero in your story. I’m the villain.”

I don’t know how anyone can be so hot and cold at the same time. One moment touching me with ravenous hunger, the next cold and detached, like a stranger standing before me.

“What do you want?”

“Total obedience for the next six weeks.”

My brow draws downwards in confusion. “What?”

His hand comes up to gently push a lock of hair out of my face. It’s not a lover’s gentle caress, it’s a reminder that he thinks he can do what he wants with me, whenever he wants. I shake him off and cross my arms.

“For the duration of our time spent together in detention, you’ll be at my beck and call to do what I want, whenever I want.” It’s as if he pulls the word right out of my brain. “If I want you to write my English Lit paper, you’ll do it. If I want you to come clean my house at 2am, you’ll show up with a broom and a mop and ask me what room I want you to start with.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to agree to that.”

He shrugs. “That’s up to you. But that’s my offer.”

I hate that I’m even considering it. Realistically, I’m absolutely getting the short end of the stick in this deal. Knowing him, he’ll have me scrubbing his toilet bowl with a toothbrush while he watches. And that's the best case scenario assuming he doesn’t make me do something batshit crazy. His wealth and power might protect him, but I have no safety net if I’m caught doing anything illegal.

“How long do I have to decide?”

He looks down at his watch. “Five minutes.”

Entitled asshole.




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