Page 4 of The Good Girl

He steps closer, licking his lips. “Come on, Lena, tell me why sex is bad for me too. I need something for the spank bank.”

Chapter Four

Tristan

Her eyes widen, and I know she’s unsure of how to react to me. She wants to hate me, she really does…but part of her knows that I’m a pawn in this ridiculous game too. She makes a noise of distaste and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t leave. Not yet anyway.

I’d always wondered where she’d hidden whenever she snuck off to the music building since she was tone deaf and couldn’t play an instrument, and now I had my answer. I’d watch her tearing across the courtyard, like someone had lit a fire under her—although no one else would see it that way. She always looked calm and collected outwardly, it was only because I’d been watching her for years that I recognized her ‘angry walk’ instead of the fake confident persona she gave the rest of the world.

It reminds me of when we were children, and she would always have to be the bravest out of all of us. Atlas would dare her to jump off the dock, down at the lake, and she would do it, even when she was afraid of what lurked in the water. Or when Tabitha made us all ride quad bikes around the woods, even though our parents had forbidden it. Elena was always the first, even though I knew underneath she was terrified. She was more terrified of showing us her fear, because that to Randolph Montgomery was a weakness, and she was not allowed to have a weakness.

“Are you going to stay here?” she asks, mouth pinched together in a way that makes me want to force her lips apart with my tongue.

“Well…” Shrugging, I keep my eyes locked with hers. I look around, pretending to contemplate it. I was going to stay as long as she did, she should know that by now. I wanted to wear her down. “I was here first.”

Her eyes narrow. “Why were you here?”

One day she won’t doubt my every action. She won’t be suspicious of my motivations. One day, she’ll understand. I hope.

I walk around a little, pacing back and forth. “Needed some air, maybe I came here to scream a little. Same as you.”

“Don’t mock me.” I can almost see the shutters falling into place as she builds up her barricades. All I needed was a chink, a small crack, and I would find a way to worm in and under her skin.

Swiping my thumb across my bottom lip slowly, I’m aware of her eyes tracking the movement. On some level she wants me, even though she hasn’t recognized it yet.

“But we both enjoy it so much,” I tease, moving ever so slightly closer to her.

“I think you need to learn to read social cues. This isn’t enjoyment.” She waves her hand in front of her face, and the look she gives me almost makes me want to shiver. It’s a terrifying defense mechanism she’s perfected over the years. Shame that instead of scaring me off, it just goes straight to my dick. I don’t mind enduring her hate, because that was something tangible, something I could grab hold of. And once I had that thread in my hand, I planned to wind it around her so tightly, she’d be bound to me in sickness and in health.

“I thought this was foreplay? Is this not getting you off?” I feign mock horror, and hold back my laugh as she looks like she might be sick. “Rude…”

She inhales and exhales slowly again, and I can almost hear a click as that final lock closes inside her head. “Whatever, I have to go.”

I watch as she turns to leave, and I resist the urge just to crowd her, to push her up against the door and shake her to her roots. Scoffing, I kick at the ground and roll my eyes. “I forgot, you’re on a tight schedule. That perfect little life doesn’t leave much space for an emotional breakdown. What was this, four minutes before debate club?”

With a sharp look over her shoulder, there’s a tiny hint of genuine happiness in her voice as she calls out, “Actually, I have a ballet lesson this afternoon.”

That was the only thing Randolph had really allowed his daughter to enjoy, and instead of gym classes with the other students, Elena, her cousin Tabitha and a few select others were allowed to pursue their own sports with private tutors. It was amazing the sway The Society had on the educational system in Silvercrest. Not that I could complain, since I benefitted too. I was supposed to box with Atlas or play polo with Hunter, but instead I usually just skipped the lesson and paid the tutors a little hush money for their silence. Not that my father would have given a shit anyway, it was more the inconvenience of having to explain that instead I chose to spend my free time painting and getting high.

“Go twirl the shit outta those slippers, Princess,” I say, the corner of my mouth twitching as her lip curls before she vanishes back down the stairs, her footsteps creating a beat that steadily grew quieter.

Once she’s gone, I take another drag of the joint I’d all but forgotten in my left hand, savoring it. Sacrifices had to be made, and this was one of them. I knew that before Lena came around, more blood would be shed but it was necessary. It was the only way we could both be free.

The Society existed to ensure that the rich and powerful stayed rich and powerful. It was as simple as that. As descendants of the founding families, we were guaranteed positions on The Council, overseers for The Society, since they were strictly reserved for Legacies. However, The Society did allow fresh blood to join, provided you were able to fit into the social class and had a certain number of zeros in your bank account. Money was the root of power, after all.

As children of the current Council, we were untouchable, and the whole town knew it, even if most of them didn’t understand why. As long as Elena was still part of the Montgomery family, Randolph would use her to further his political career, and it was no secret he dreamed of becoming a senator. He was going to drain her dry, while his wife Adeline continued popping pills like they were sweets, washing them down with champagne. I’d be surprised if she even had blood running through her veins. If I cut her, Dom Pérignon would probably gush forth like a fucking fountain.

That’s why I needed to protect Lena.

If we had to be a part of The Society, it would be on our terms.

Chapter Five

Elena

Glaring at the pointe slippers, I resist the shiver that threatens to roll through my body. It doesn’t matter that I think I have a stress fracture, or that cheerleading yesterday exhausted me, I needed to put them on and dance. Part of me hates ballet like this, and part of me needs the structure, otherwise I’d be lost in the movement, swept away to the music. Dance had always been my release, my freedom, but when I was confined to a routine it became harder, it didn’t feel like a proper release, and after the incident in English and then running into Tristan again, I needed a release. Why was he there? And why couldn’t I stay calm when he was in front of me? It was getting increasingly harder to reign in my hatred for him, and I’d find myself arguing with him every time we speak. I was better than that. I was raised to be above that.

My teacher, Madame Alder, enters the classroom and changes into her dance shoes wordlessly. She would have been a beautiful woman, but age had stripped her of that and now her face was always a little cold and tinged with sadness. She used to be a prima ballerina in a small company in France before moving to the US with her sister. A car accident had changed her life forever, forcing her to give up ballet professionally, and so she taught instead. We weren’t close enough for her to have told me any of this herself, rather I’d come across her personnel file when my mother had done a background search. It never ceased to amaze me how involved The Council were with the school, cherry-picking the teachers and monitoring our progress in ways that would make even the worst helicopter parents shudder. Then again, I don’t know why I’m surprised, they were the head of The Society after all.

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