Page 21 of The Good Girl

Placing a small, dainty hand over mine, she gives it a gentle squeeze. “Own it, don’t hide behind who they expect you to be.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I turn back to look at her and there’s a quiet determination emblazoned on her face that I wish I felt. With an acknowledging nod, she stands again, her heels click-clacking on the sidewalk as she strides back into the tattoo parlor.

Chapter Eighteen

Tristan

“Why do we always have to tag along to these things? It’s not like we’re allowed to attend The Council meetings afterwards.” Groaning, Tabitha shrugs off her coat and hands it to Samson, Hunter’s butler. The hallway is black and white marble, and extravagant as fuck, typical for Hunter’s mother.

“It’s a power thing,” Atlas observes as Athena pushes him forward sharply. He hated these Society dinners almost as much as I did. He was right, it was just a cock-fight for the power hungry. During dinner, the adults would all brag about acquisitions, investments, town politics and cars. Once dinner was finished, they’d all disappear into another part of the house for a meeting, to discuss god-knows-what. Probably more money talks, all the while pretending we don’t really exist. The Council meetings were held once a month, and hosted by each family in turn and sometimes other, lower ranking members of The Society would join later in the evening. This month was Hunter’s family, the Kingstons, turn, and if there was one thing Elijah Kingston loved, it was a get-together, as evidenced by the pretty cocktails offered up to us on a tray by a smiling server who had clearly been chosen for her looks.

“S’up,” Hunter calls as he enters the hallway and motions towards the dining room, ushering us to our seats. I’d come with Atlas and Athena so that I wouldn’t have to share an awkward car journey with my father, who was already here. He was always back in time for these dinners, although he didn’t always stay at the house afterwards. When his dark eyes meet mine across the table, I offer him a curt nod and take my seat beside Atlas, otherwise ignoring the man who shared the same name as me. He was around more often lately, which set my teeth on edge as I was never sure when he’d pop up next, and I hoped it wasn’t a phase that was going to last long.

While it wasn’t strictly a black-tie dinner, our parents always dressed as if it were, all clothes in smart black attire with their Society pins fastened securely and boldly on display. I refused to wear a shirt and tie, so a black long-sleeved T-shirt with black jeans was the best they were going to get from me. It was the same for Atlas, and Hunter wore white chinos and a black polo shirt with a white collar. Tabitha and Athena were both dressed smartly, but they always looked great so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

Soft voices carry before the Grimaldi family enter the room, their son Noah looking as bored as I feel. His older brother, Roman, and younger sister, Poppy, were currently over in the UK, drinking tea with the Queen or some shit. His parents were hoping that without their influences, Noah would take an interest in Society business, instead he hung around with Clay Windsor, getting high and driving around Silvercrest in his stupid Lamborghini Aventador, buying the underage jocks booze in exchange for blowjobs from their cheerleader girlfriends. Compensating much? Speaking of the devil, Clay struts in and takes the seat closest to the door next to Noah. I doubt he’ll hang around when The Council meeting begins since he’ll have deals to make, drugs to dole out and chicks to bang. What a simple life. Except I knew it was all an act. He nods his head at me and I give him a mock salute in return before turning back to Atlas, listening to him talk about how hard it was to get blood out of his white Adidas sneakers. Across the table, Hunter stiffens and meets my gaze, a pink tinge on his cheeks as his jaw ticks.

Randolph, Adeline and Elena arrive next, breaking the tension. These dinners were always held on a Friday, which meant that Lena has to forgo her usual dance session, and I can see how it affects her as her shoulders seem stiff and tense. It doesn’t escape my notice how Randolph hisses something to his wife and daughter before taking his seat next to Elijah and Cassia, Tabitha’s mother, leaving Elena with a tight face and Adeline rolling her eyes before she grabs a glass of champagne from a passing server and takes a seat next to Atlas’ father, Rowan. Twins ran in the Hawthorne family, Atlas and Athena, with Rowan and Adeline before them. I never really consider Adeline a direct threat until I see her sitting next to her brother, and it’s like something clicks into place as they discuss something discreetly, eyes narrowed despite their relaxed body language. There’s a gleam in her eyes, her glassy expression gone as her lips pinch together and she glances over at her husband, who’s busy bragging about his new campaign plans. She was one to watch, her housewife routine a façade that shifted when she was around Rowan.

Elena sits between Tabitha and Clay, which puts her directly opposite Atlas. It’s a deliberate choice, so that she’s not forced to look up at me throughout the meal, even though I planned to get her attention regardless. I was going to be the thorn in her side until she let me inside those walls of hers.

The first course of potato and leek soup is served with freshly baked bread rolls, and I notice how Elena hands her bread across to Hunter with a warm smile. My stomach clenches, even though there’s no room for jealousy here. She was mine, and everyone knew it and accepted it, apart from her. He leans in and says something, which has her laughing, and I can’t stop the corner of my mouth twitching with the noise. I like hearing her laugh, if only she let herself do it more often.

Tonight she’s wearing a black wrap dress that falls just off the shoulders, with full-length sleeves. Her hair is twisted into an elegantly messy knot that rests at the nape of her neck, and as she relaxes into easy conversation with her cousins and Hunter, I get glimpses of what she’ll be like when she finally comes into her own. And she’s breathtaking. Clay says something and she smiles softly, before he raises a brow and whispers into her ear. My heart stops for a moment before her mouth pinches into a tight line, a small line appearing on her forehead, and I assume it’s something to do with the school’s smoking policy since Clay is lobbying to allow smoking on the grounds. I exhale and Tabitha flashes me a grin, the only one to notice my strange flash of jealousy. We both know that if someone doesn’t intervene in Lena and Clay’s discussion, there’ll be a debate at the dinner table. Luckily Noah seems to pick up on the building tension, distracting Clayton with some images on his phone.

Dinner is a roasted lamb dish served with seasoned vegetables and some sort of wine sauce. It’s only because I’m talking to Tabitha about her new car that I catch the second Elena freezes next to her. Following her gaze, I see Randolph glaring at her across the table and looking pointedly down at his plate. When I glance back at Tabitha, we both watch Elena as she places the wine sauce back on the table, despite never having poured any on her food, and begins to cut up her lamb. Through the rest of the meal, she discreetly plays with her food, giving the appearance that she’s eaten more than she has. Tabitha gives me a pointed look, and I shrug, knowing that if I interfere now it will just cause a scene and make Lena furious with me. I hadn’t earned the right to confront Randolph yet, and that infuriated me. I wanted to strangle that fat, bloated motherfucker. The Society would probably let me, they would even help me cover it up, but Lena would never trust me again and I couldn’t have that.

“Ooh, black forest gâteau!” Athena almost cheers with a grin as they bring out dessert. “That’s your fave, Lena.”

Elena eyes the slices of layered chocolate cake, slathered indulgently with cream and black cherries, a kirsch sauce oozing between the sponge. “I think I’ll pass. I’m still full from dinner.”

She fakes a smile, and leans back in her chair, nursing her small glass of wine as the rest of us dig in. The adults don’t bother with dessert, choosing coffee except for Adeline, and it’s sinful as she licks the cream from her spoon. Hypocrite. She was like a Venus flytrap, everything about her designed to draw you in where you’d remain blissfully unaware until her teeth closed around your throat. Once she’s done, our parents begin to make their way through to Elijah’s large office, ready for the meeting.

Atlas groans with a mouthful of cake. “Why are we never allowed to The Council meetings?”

He was the one most eager to be included in The Society’s dealings, but that’s because he already was, just without the official recognition he wanted. Technically we were too young to be members, but being born had made us members. It was a convoluted situation, where we were players in the game but not allowed on the board apparently.

“Because you have yet to be initiated. You’d be bored to tears anyway, nephew of mine,” Adeline teases as she comes behind Elena to lay a hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s all politics and power, you know that.”

We chuckle, because it’s true. It would be boring compared to what we usually do, which is hang out, get high and moan about our parents. Despite attending the same school, growing up together and our families being close, we didn’t actually hang around at school, although that seems to be shifting a little recently. We each had our own friend circles, and sometimes they overlapped, sometimes they didn’t, so this was our opportunity to catch up as much as the adults did. It was like a breather, having people who understood the lives we lived. The darkness that was always on the edges, creeping forward with every passing day until we joined The Society as full members.

Adeline leans in. “Lena, your uncle tells me that you girls all did something a little rebellious this week.” Elena straightens, her face a mask, giving nothing away as her mother smiles slyly, her perfect red lips twisted beautifully. “Just don’t let your father see, darling. You know he can be a stick in the mud about things like this.”

Without another word, Adeline sashays away, joining the rest of The Council members. Tabitha laughs, and Athena exhales as if she can finally relax.

“Fuck, I thought she was going to tear us a new one!” Tabitha says as she playfully slaps Lena on the arm.

“Come on, guys, let’s go to the games room. My ass is getting numb sitting in these stupid dining chairs,” Hunter grumbles as he stands, rubbing his ass with a flirty wink at Athena, which makes Atlas growl.

“A clear case of style over substance,” Attie comments as she eyes the dining chairs disdainfully, getting to her feet.

Hunter shrugs. “You know my mom is obsessed with weird old furniture, I wanted bean bags but she vetoed that shit quick.”

Chapter Nineteen

Elena

Fuck, my mother knew about the tattoos. She knew. Why had I let myself get talked into getting a tattoo with Tabitha and Attie? It was their fault, god, I was so easily peer pressured. My father was going to freak out. I was barely allowed to get my ears pierced when I was fifteen, but permanent ink on my body? He would never forgive me for ruining his perfect image. I stand with a groan and follow the others upstairs to the huge games room Elijah had installed as a bribery attempt to curb his son’s wayward behavior, not that it worked, but it was still a pretty sweet room. There was a large plush, corner sofa dominating the center of the room, with bean bags dotted about the place so that we could watch movies on the home cinema system in complete comfort. A pool table was tucked away in the left-hand corner of the room, an air hockey table to the right of that and a dart board was mounted on the wall behind them. Then against the wall to the right of the sofa was a bar, stocked with soft drinks, popcorn, snacks and alcohol. Our families treated us like adults in the sense that alcohol wasn’t withheld from us, but that took half the fun out of it since it was always available. We knew the repercussions if we embarrassed our families, considering how we all lived in the public eye in one way or another. Clayton and Noah didn’t care about their family’s image, and neither did Tristan, but all that did was make them more attractive to the girls in school, who saw them as bad boys who needed to be redeemed. If only they realized it would bring nothing but heartache and a possible case of crabs.

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