Rich Riot Read online

“If you want to keep seeing my girl, then you better stay honest with me, Tuck. If you hear anything that involves her or Colt, you let me know. I will be the one to decide what needs dealing with and what can lie. Understood?”

  “Clear as day.”

  “Good.” He taps his guts with his thumbs. “Your old man let you have the odd beer?”

  I frown. “Yeah.”

  He rises from the seat with a sigh. “I think the day calls for it.” Lacey’s dad wanders into the kitchen; hand held out beside him, pointer finger raised. “Only one, though.”

  Lacey glances between the two of us, the table falling quiet as their focus is drawn to us also. The smile on Lacey’s lips when she deduces that her dad is offering me a beer tells me that on this occasion doing what I’m told will be worth it.

  Completely worth it.

  Anything to make that girl happy.

  COLT

  “Everyone’s out,” Libby states, throwing the front door wide. “Shut it behind you, would you?”

  I step into her depressingly dark home and do as I’m told, checking the street for anybody we might know.

  “And for God’s sake, take that stupid hat off.” Her perfume leaves a trail to follow—a line of flowery breadcrumbs from the entry to the staircase.

  I slide the cap off my head, ruffling the blond locks beneath while I traipse upstairs to find her. A swish of cotton, a flash of pale blue, and I catch a fleeting glimpse of her as she disappears into her bedroom.

  Ditching the cap on her set of drawers, I step inside the room and shake the coat from my shoulders.

  “Damn, Colt.” She backtracks toward me. “You look like shit.”

  Her words aren’t offered from a place of sympathy; there’s a distinct disgust to her tone.

  Sharp nails edge into my cheeks as she twists my chin side to side. “Richard said he made a mess of you, but I didn’t think he was capable of this.”

  “I guess I’m lucky Arthur couldn’t be bothered joining in today, huh?”

  “Funny,” she sasses with one raised eyebrow.

  I used to think she was angelic; a doll with delicate features and perfect blonde hair. But the longer you know someone, the more quirks you pick up on.

  Libby’s quite plain to my eye now. Another girl with a perfect face in a world of perfect people where everything’s broken anyway.

  “Have you two …?”

  She drops to her bed with a dramatic flop, ankles crossed and hands out wide to support her. “Split up?” She scoffs. “No.”

  “Really?” I stay rooted to the spot.

  “You didn’t think I’d ditch him for you, did you?”

  Take another swing at my already bruised body, why don’t you? “I more thought he’d drop your arse,” I snap.

  “Baby,” she coos. “He’d be a fool to give up on my family name after one setback.”

  She talks about relationships as though they’re mutual funds. Love as though it’s a clause on a much more detailed page. Her parents have raised her well.

  Libby’s hands lift to the two ribbons at her side. Her chin dips, eyes sultry as she tugs the ends to let the sides of her wrap dress fall away. Her fully naked body is presented at the perfect angle, her form impeccable as usual.

  I sometimes wonder if there’s a back room at the debutante academy for a more advanced style of curriculum.

  “Come touch me,” she purrs. “Arthur won’t play, and I’m bored without school to keep me busy.”

  I should walk away. But then again, if I hadn’t intended to let off some steam of my own, I wouldn’t have come in the first place.

  She watches me with a satisfied smile as I cross the room, shedding my polo shirt on the way. Her lithe fingers lift to my pants, eager to set me free before I can so much as kick my damn shoes off.

  What we do isn’t love. It isn’t even lust.

  We sleep with each other to fill our voids. We fuck to make one semi-palatable trust fund kid out of our messed up incomplete halves. For the time it takes to lose my load in her, I feel at ease.

  Satisfied.

  Centred.

  Fuck knows what she gets out of it. A perverse thrill? Practice for when she moves from schoolboys to CEOs? Libby’s the kind of girl who’ll blossom into a siren’s call. The woman you send in to collect the dirty on your opponent when all above-the-table tactics fail.

  And as she tugs my hardening cock out of my boxers, I get the impression she’ll love that role: the dominatrix of the business district.

  “I’m not really in the mood,” I test, backing out of her reach.

  I lie. I need nothing more than to let my frustration out the only acceptable way. But I want to see what I am to her now the cat launched itself out of the goddamn bag.

  “Your dick says otherwise,” she rebuts. “But fine.” A dramatic huff. “What is it you’d rather do?” She snaps the sides of her dress together, clutching them at her waist with a fist.

  Her right breast is still on full display.

  I run my tongue across the ridge of my teeth. “Where do we stand, Lib? You honestly think we can carry on this thing between us now that he knows?”

  She shrugs, lash-framed eyes averted. “What does it matter if we do or don’t?” Her cold gaze settles on mine. “If not you, Colt, then I’d have someone else to play with. Wouldn’t you rather it be you?” Her head tilts.

  I drag in a deep breath, fixing my pants. “This started out being something for the both of us, but of late it feels rather one-sided.”

  “So?” She honestly doesn’t care.

  “So I don’t like being used without any kickback, Libby.”

  Her top lip curls when I reach for my shirt. “Do you want money?”

  She couldn’t have said anything more insulting if she tried. “Excuse me?”

  “Everyone knows your family is broke, Colt. If you need money, don’t be ashamed to ask me.”

  “Go fuck yourself.” I yank the cotton over my torso. “You think I’d whore myself out to a bitch like you out of desperation?”

  “What else was this then?” Her hand slips, revealing more of her bare chest.

  “Power play.” I jerk my coat off the floor. “I fucked you to prove I could. To prove that you spoilt fucking cunts have your heads too far up your arse to see what somebody inside your circle is capable of doing.”

  She lunges from the bed, shoving me hard in the shoulder. “You aren’t in our circle, Colt. You never were.” She pushes me again, only this time I catch her by the wrist. “You were part of the trade-off we had to make to get your sister.”

  I flick her away, causing her to stumble. “Tell yourself what you like, Libby, but you arseholes had me around way more than she ever was.”

  “Because she’s smart, Colt.” Her blonde hair flicks out in a wave behind her as she spins away. Her gown falls free, floating behind her like a cape. “She didn’t lock herself away in our group and alienate the rest of the school. She demanded respect from the others, but deep down, they all have a soft spot for her.” She fidgets with the items on her set of drawers.

  “Some soft spot they had if that’s how they treated her.”

  “How we treated her.” The self-proclaimed queen of Riverbourne turns to face me, beautiful body bare and proud. “The Chosen treated her how she deserved, but the masses simply kept their obedient little heads down and turned a blind eye.”

  “Bullshit.” I can’t believe I’m arguing over Lacey in my fuck-buddy’s bedroom… while she’s naked. But here we are. “Those commoners had all the chances in the world to stick up for her undetected, but they left her alone. They pushed her away and ostracised her.” I step toward Libby, oblivious to the body that used to distract me beyond all reason. “Why?”

  “Safety.” She reaches out to palm my chest.

  I smack her hand away.

  “If they stood back and let her take me down, they’d have a clean pass to fall in line beneath her. But if they took her side p
rematurely and I maintained my place—which I have—then they would have signed their death warrants.” She sighs, folding her arms across her small breasts. “Trust me, Colt. I know. I was one of them when I was younger.”

  “You were never a bottom-feeder,” I snarl. “Your parents have had you on a damn pedestal since you were born. You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have to work for anything, let alone respect.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” Her eye twitches. “Have you forgotten what it was like when Lacey transferred from Portside to Riverbourne?”

  How could I? I spent her first months at our school fending off the leeches that saw a pretty girl and an opportunity. “No.”

  “She was this close,” Libby snaps, fingers pinched close together before her face. “She almost had the top spot, but I managed to hold on long enough that she chose to back down.” Her dress hits the floor, and she struts bare-arsed to the walk-in closet. “I won’t be that careless again.”

  She vanishes from view, lost amongst her flowing gowns and tailored jackets.

  “She’s gone now, Lib. Don’t you think it’s time to leave her alone?” I need to know she will. I need that promise before I can count my losses and walk away from this.

  A bitter laugh echoes from the depths of her wardrobe. “No.” She emerges clad in a racy lingerie set; suspenders hold stockings on her lean legs. “She’s an ember out there, Colt. And embers restart fires.” Libby stoops to tug a tight dress up her legs, wriggling her hips to slide into the stretchy fabric. “I need to stamp her out before she gets the chance.”

  “You’re talking about my sister,” I remind the bitch.

  “I know.” Pressed into a tiny bandage dress, she uses the back of her hands to flick her hair out. “If you were that loyal, though, wouldn’t you be with her right now and not me?”

  The lift of her sculpted eyebrow irritates the hell out of me. I snatch the baseball cap off her drawers and head for the door. “I’m out.”

  “Good.” A clink of a light chain, the slide of heels. “You can give me a lift to the clubs.”

  “Are you fucking serious?”

  She smacks into me when I stop suddenly. “I’m fucking horny, Colt, and if neither you or Arthur will take care of it, then I will.”

  I resume my trek towards the front door and mutter. “Isn’t that what dildos are for?”

  She overtakes, arse swaying with each step in her ridiculously high shoes. “A dildo can’t choke you while it fucks you, Colt.”

  And I used to think she was sexy.

  LACEY

  “Hey. I need to get home before Mum starts to worry,” Mags states, shifting to the front of her chair. “I told her I was here, but I think she assumed I’d be home for dinner.”

  “Ugh. Sorry.” I rise from the sofa, unjustifiably annoyed that I have to slip away from my warm spot beside Tuck to see her out.

  “How are you getting there?” he asks.

  Dad lifts his head from the TV program he has on low. “Do you need a lift?”

  “It would probably be wiser than walking alone,” Maggie chuckles.

  “I can give you a ride.” Greer reaches for her keys.

  Maggie looks to me as though to check if there’s any reason to say no. I bite my bottom lip and smile. They’ve got along okay, and thankfully Greer hasn’t said all that much about Beau.

  “If you’re sure that’s okay?”

  I may have dodged a bullet.

  Dad twists in his seat to wait on the answer.

  Greer smiles at everyone. “Honestly. It’s fine. Why is everyone looking at me like this is some crazy bad idea?” She huffs out her nose. “I have to drive home anyway; what’s a detour to drop Maggie off?”

  “Makes sense to me,” Tuck mumbles.

  I shoot him a glare. Damn, guys. They never understand this stuff.

  “Thanks for the feed, Mr W.” Maggie lifts her hand at Dad.

  He nods. “Any time. Apologise to your mum for me.”

  “Nah.” Maggie waves him off while Greer starts for the door. “I’m sure she’ll be cool with it. Leftovers for lunch tomorrow.”

  “I’m glad you both dropped by.” I follow the girls to the front door, a little warmed that Tuck chose to stay back and chat with Dad. “Just wish I wasn’t so damn housebound and I could return the favour.”

  “Soon,” Greer says hopefully. “I’m sure a pretty face like yours can snap up an after-school job to help pay for a car.”

  Maggie grimaces, her head down while she watches where she steps off the porch. “There aren’t many casual jobs around here, actually. Not for school kids anyway.”

  “Oh.” Greer’s lips twist in thought. “Online sales?”

  “Of what?” I laugh. “Jars of pure country air? That’s about all the resources I have.”

  The girls chuckle.

  “Don’t knock it,” Mags says. “Some polluted third world country would probably go for that.” She gives me an awkward nudge on the arm. “See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

  Greer goes in for the kill, smothering me in her embrace. “Babe.”

  I loop my arms around her. “You make it sound as though I’m going on my OE.”

  She sighs, releasing me from her hold. “You may as well be.” The humour drains from her face. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to get out here again. Rumour has it that Libby’s dad got her suspension capped at two weeks.”

  “Ugh.” I roll my eyes and bury my hands underneath my pits to keep them warm. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I’ve never met this bitch,” Maggie scowls, “but I get the feeling I should be stoked about that.”

  “Pretty much.” Greer pops a hip. “I mean, she’s not that bad beneath it all.”

  I choke.

  “Lace…” Greer moans. “She isn’t.”

  “She was a cow the minute I transferred to Riverbourne until the second I left. I never saw her do anything for someone else unless it helped her.”

  “Wait.” Maggie frowns. “You haven’t always gone to Riverbourne Prep?”

  Greer shakes her head while I answer, “No. I went to Portside Girls my first year of secondary.”

  “Oh.” Mags eyebrows lift. “I just assumed it was like, one of those legacy things where you go to the desired school of your parents from birth or some shit.”

  Greer snorts.

  “Not quite.” I smile. “Mum thought it would be best if I changed to a co-ed. You know, for my ‘future prospects’.”

  “Jesus,” Mags mumbles. “It honestly is some fucked up arranged world you guys come from, huh?”

  “It’s not that different out here once you dig under the surface,” I muse.

  Greer’s lips flatten. “Well, we need to get going before it’s too dark.” She waves a finger between us. “Save this for next time we all meet up.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” I give them both a hug—one that Greer receives willingly, and Maggie settles into—and then step under cover of the small porch to wave them off.

  My heart sinks when I find Tuck on his feet inside, ready to leave also.

  “I don’t have Day-Glo for riding at night.” He thumbs toward the back of the house. “I better get Major home before I lose the sun.”

  Of course. “I’ll see you in the morning, anyway.”

  Tuck glances at Dad, who sits with his back to us, and then toward the bedroom. As though using his sixth sense, Dad pipes up with, “Try the door this time, huh?”

  “No worries, Mr Williams.”

  Dad leans around the side of his armchair. “And if you plan to be a regular, call me James. I don’t feel like such an old fuddy-duddy then.”

  I smirk.

  Tuck damn near blushes. “Sure thing.” He jerks his head toward the door, eyes wide and begging for a reprieve.

  I backtrack outside, a wave of deja vu making me smile, and step out of sight of Dad onto the driveway. Tuck tips his chin to the sky, seeming to gauge how much time he has before he nee
ds to be off the roadside, and then sighs.

  “You wanna walk around back with me?”

  “Sure.”

  He sticks his hand out, and I reach for his in return. The feel of his fingers woven between my own is the most natural thing in the world. I swing our joined hands back and forth slightly as we walk down the strip of lawn between the house and the fence.

  It feels so natural. So common. As though I never left and we’ve been doing this for years.

  “I should bring my truck next time,” Tuck mutters. “I could stay longer then.”

  “On a school night?” I sass with my free hand pressed to my chest.

  He chuckles, jerking me underneath his arm. I slide mine around his waist, the weight of his hold on my shoulders comforting.

  “You think you’ll miss it?” He watches Major at the fence line as he asks the question. “All the glitz and glamour of the ‘burbs?”

  I let out a heavy breath. “Parts of it. I mean, I’m a girly girl; I like to dress up.”

  “You can dress up for me.” He lifts one eyebrow, swinging me to face him when we reach the timber slats.

  “It’s not quite the same,” I tease. “Stiletto heels on grass, and thin chiffon and lace in the middle of the countryside?” I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Private show?” He grins.

  I playfully slap him on the chest.

  He pins my hand. “I don’t think anyone understands, you know? Like, they tell us we’re young and that this is all for fun, but that’s not what you are.”

  “Who’s they?”

  His eyes darken. “Your dad. Mine.” Tuck heaves a sigh, looking off over my head. “He wants to meet you.”

  “Your dad?” I ask dubiously.

  He nods. “I guess it’s only polite, but you gotta know he’s a real arse when he wants to be.”

  “I can handle it.” I smile wryly. “Pretty sure I’ve had the ultimate induction into dealing with arseholes the last few months.”

  Tuck’s grin returns. “Look at you with that dirty mouth of yours.”

  I giggle. “Never said I was a prude.”

  “Sure acted like it when you first got here.”

  His words tease, but his gaze does something else entirely. It taunts me, tempts me.