OBSESSION

ALPHAHOLES #1

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GEMMA WEIR

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 Obsession
Copyright © 2022 Gemma Weir
Published by Hudson Indie Ink
www.hudsonindieink.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior
permission of the copyright owner.

Cover Designer: The Pretty Little Design Co

Obsession/Gemma Weir – 1st ed.

ISBN-13 - 978-1-913904-26-5

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 CONTENTS

Warning
Prologue
I. The Beginning
1. Starling
2. Sebastian
3. Starling
4. Sebastian
5. Starling
6. Sebastian
7. Starling
8. Sebastian
9. Starling
II. The Beginning of the end.
10. Starling
11. Sebastian
12. Starling
13. Sebastian
14. Starling
15. Sebastian
16. Starling
17. Sebastian
18. Starling
19. Sebastian
20. Starling
21. Sebastian
22. Starling
23. Sebastian
24. Starling
25. Sebastian
26. Starling
27. Sebastian
28. Starling
29. Sebastian
30. Starling
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Gemma Weir
Other Authors at Hudson Indie Ink

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Birds fly free, unless they’re chained in a pretty cage. Be
the bird, or embrace the cage if it includes a big dick and
an alphahole who knows how to use it.

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 WARNING

I didn’t think this book was going to need a warning, but

after writing the first few chapters, it looks like it is, so
here goes.
This book contains elements of bullying, and at times
skirts along the lines of dark romance with some scenes
that could be considered as having dubious consent.
Sebastian Lockwood is controlling, manipulative, cruel
and sometimes cold to the point of being glacial. Please do
not let his age fool you, he is as alpha and dominant as all
the other heroes I’ve written and if alphaholes are not your
jam, then please stop reading now.
All of my heroes are over-the-top, jealous, unreasonable,
possessive assholes.
If you consider unapologetic alphaholes unacceptable,
or feel their behavior is in some way abusive, then this isn’t
the book or series for you.
If you’re a naysayer who thinks what I write is
romanticizing domestic violence and abuse then please,
please stop reading now, you will not enjoy this book!
This book isn’t a guide to dysfunctional relationships,
it’s fiction. My books are fantasy, this isn’t real life, it’s a
romance novel and should be read as such.
Just because this book is based during the high school
and college years, please do not mistake this as a young
adult romance—it’s not. This book is packed full of sexual
scenes, dirty, filthy sex and some scenes that will make you
slightly ashamed that you enjoyed them so much.
Nothing I write is based on real life, it’s pure fantasy, so
it’s okay to agree that the dysfunctional relationships
between my characters are incredibly sexy. Please do not
kink shame me or my enthusiastic readers for finding these
extreme alphahole behaviors hot, maybe if you read this
book with the pinch of romantic salt it was intended to
come with, you might like it too.
So if, like me, you love a guy who is so obsessively in
love with his girl that he will manipulate, coerce, control
and obsess over her until she gives herself to him
completely, then read on and welcome to the world of the
alphaholes ;)

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 PROLOGUE

F irm, unyielding fingers roughly force their way between

my thighs and cup my pussy tightly. “This cunt is mine,
it’s for my eyes, my fingers, my tongue and my cock only. I
won’t share, and that includes you suggesting this could
ever belong to anyone else. The only things that will be
inside your wetness will belong to me. You’re mine,
Starling, you always have been, so get used to it. I’ve
owned you since the day I set eyes on you in high school
and I’ll always own you. You might have run from me, but I
always knew where you were and I always will. You’ll never
be free of me.”
Shaking my head, I yank my wrists from his hold, trying
to free myself, but all I can move is my head, so I shake it,
denying his words in the only way I can.
His laugh is menacing and full of confident promise.
Leaning down, he presses a kiss to my lips, resting his nose
against my cheek as he pulls in a deep inhale. “Try and run,
little bird. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth. You don’t
get to leave this house unless I take you. The entire
population of the campus knows you belong to me, and
your mom would love to know you’re under my care and
protection. Behave and life can be good, fight me and I’ll
make the me you knew in high school seem like a walk in
the park.”
 Tears spill from my eyes, rolling down my cheeks as I
stare up at his excited eyes. He’s enjoying this.
I hate him so much. But I’ve moved on, I’ve put high
school behind me. I’ve forced myself to forget him, or at
least I’ve done a really good job of pretending to forget
about him.
I moved halfway across the country, and only came back
because he wasn’t meant to be here. But here he is, my
tormentor, and the only guy my panties have ever gotten
damp for. “I hate you,” I whisper through my arid throat.
“Good, I hate you too.”

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 PART 1

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THE BEGINNING

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 STARLING

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 THREE YEARS EARLIER

“S tarling.”
“Yeah.”
“Courtney’s here,” Mom yells from the bottom of the
stairs.
I don’t have to see her to know she’s leaning against the
stair rail, her hair still in a messy knot at the top of her
head, her bathrobe open and revealing one of the massive
oversize nightshirts she sleeps in.
“I’m coming,” I yell, hurrying to finish braiding my hair
that’s in desperate need of a cut. It’s so long now, the braid
almost hits my butt when I finish twisting the band into the
bottom and let it fall over my shoulder.
“Starling,” Mom yells again. “You’re going to be late
unless you get your butt downstairs right now.”
Shoving the tube of lip gloss in my hand into the pocket
of my blazer, I grab my backpack from the floor and rush
out of my room and downstairs. My ratty Chucks are still
sitting by the door where I kicked them off after I got home
from my late shift at the diner last night. I shove my feet
into them while Mom waves a five-dollar bill in front of my
face, her glasses balanced on the edge of her nose.
“I have money,” I tell her.
“You shouldn’t be spending your money on food, the
money you earn is for you.”
 “No, the money I earn is for us. I live here, I’m more
than capable of contributing. You won’t take my wages
toward the bills, so I can buy my own lunch.”
“Honey, I can pay our bills. I’m the adult, you’re the kid.
My next book is ready to go to the editor, after that I’m
going to take that gig writing instruction manuals for a
while.”
“No, you’re not. You’ll hate it, and you’ll die a little more
inside each time you have to explain how to insert a battery
into a clock or whatever.”
“It’s regular money, a guaranteed salary each month
instead of relying on my publisher to promote my back
catalog.”
Shaking my head, I lean in and press a kiss against her
cheek. “I’ll get a few extra shifts a week, I can help.”
Smiling a sad smile, she lifts her hand and grabs my
face, squeezing my chin and squishing my cheeks the same
way she’s been doing since I was a little kid. “I love you so
much.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
She slaps her lips against mine in a quick, over-the-top
smoochy kiss, then drops her hand and ushers me toward
the door. “Go, or Courtney is going to start honking, I can’t
deal with Mr. Longstein coming over here to complain
about the pitch of her horn again.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” Grabbing the door handle, I
open it and wave absently behind me as I rush down the
steps.
“Morning,” Court sings, rolling down her window and
almost falling out of the car as she enthusiastically dances
in her seat to the terrible bouncy pop music she loves that’s
blaring from the stereo.
“Wow, how many cups of coffee have you had this
morning?” I ask, sliding into the passenger seat and closing
the door, shoving my backpack down between my feet.
“Only two and a couple of energy drinks.”
 “Jesus, Court, that’s far too much caffeine before eight
a.m.”
“It’s not even my record, the other week when you were
sick I had three coffees and three Red Bulls before lunch. I
swear I did all of my summer homework in less than an
hour.”
“You’re going to give yourself a heart attack at sixteen,
I’m cutting you off. I’m serious, one coffee before breakfast
and no energy drinks until school finishes from now on.”
Courtney giggles, settling back into her seat and pulling
away from the curb. “So, you’ll never guess who was at the
party on Saturday night.”
“What party?”
“Jennifer Houston’s party, I told you about it.”
“Oh yeah. I think I remember you mentioning it,” I say,
absentmindedly rooting through my backpack, trying to
find my cell that I shoved in there before I started braiding
my hair.
“So…” Court prompts.
“So what?” I ask, finally locating it at the bottom
beneath a candy wrapper.
“So, guess who was there?”
“Where?”
“At the party.”
“Oh, who?” I ask, not really caring, but trying to sound
like I do. Court has never understood why I’m not more
interested in the kids we go to school with, and it’s too
early to deal with her being pissy with me.
“Evan, Hunter, Clay and Sebastian.”
“Oh, cool,” I say, typing out a message to my boss to ask
if there are any more shifts I can pick up this week.
“Are you even listening to me? The Acres Elite were all
at Jennifer’s party and they stayed for almost an hour.”
“They only stayed for an hour? That seems kind of rude.”
“Jennifer’s only a sophomore like us, it’s amazing that
they showed up at all,” Court gushes, animatedly talking
with her hands until she has to grab the wheel as her car
starts to drift across the road.
“Isn’t it a bit sleazy for a group of seniors to go to a
sophomore party?”
“Well, it was Jennifer’s brother Justin’s party really, he
just let Jennifer invite some friends. Justin’s a senior, but
even he seemed shocked they turned up. He was trying to
act all cool, getting them beers and chatting like they were
besties or whatever, but everyone could see how excited he
was that The Elite came to his party. Clay is gorgeous, so is
Hunter, well they all are, but Evan is kind of a dick and
Sebastian, well he’s just scary. Scary hot, but still… scary.”
“Having an attractive face doesn’t make you less of a
douche, and all four of them are douches. They’re bullies
and everyone knows bullies have small dicks. Their asshole
behavior is just them trying to overcompensate for lacking
in the trouser department. I bet all four of them have the
worst case of little dick syndrome.”
“Muffy Hamilton said she saw Evan screwing Amanda
Collins in the science lab and that his dick was huge.”
Cringing, I turn and look at Courtney. “Eww, he was
having sex in the science lab? We have to sit at those
tables, that’s disgusting.”
Courtney giggles. “God, Starling, you’re such a prude.
Muffy said Evan had his hand over Amanda’s mouth
because she was being so loud.”
“She was probably just asking if he’d even got his
microdick inside her yet.” I laugh.
“Oh my god, can you even imagine if his dick was that
small?” She cackles. “How gutted would you be if a boy
that hot had a microwang?”
We’re still laughing as we pull into the school parking
lot. There’re separate dedicated parking areas for
sophomores, juniors and seniors. The sophomore spots are
the farthest away, the juniors in the middle and seniors
right outside the entrance doors. Courtney pulls her car
into a spot and kills the engine, then turns to look at me.
“First day of sophomore year.”
I can hear the excitement in her voice; she loves this.
Being at school, having a million friends, going to parties.
She’s been talking about what we’ll do once we’re in high
school since the fourth grade when she moved into my
class. Now we’re finally here, the shine doesn’t seem to be
wearing off. Our freshman year, she calmed down a little
bit. I guess it takes a while for everyone to find their place
in the hierarchy, but once she officially settled into her role
as cheerleader, she embraced it wholeheartedly. I, on the
other hand, am still trying to figure out where I fit in.
The town of Green Acres where we live is split into two
halves, the ‘Haves’ and the ‘Have-nots’. The ‘Haves’ live in
North Acres, which is where all the houses have electric
gates, their own pools, and big enough plots that you can’t
see your neighbors’ houses. South Acres is where the
‘Have-nots’ live. Run-down houses sit next to abandoned
lots, beside drug dealers selling from street corners.
Courtney’s family has a beautiful McMansion on a
beautiful road in North Acres, her parents are lawyers and
her family comes from money on both her mom and dad’s
sides. I live slap bang on the border of north and south, or
no-man’s-land as I like to call it. My house is small, just two
beds, one and a half baths, and a yard full of flowers my
mom bought at the grocery store when they were on offer.
We’re not rich like Courtney’s family, but we’re not poor
either.
My mom is an author. She writes thrillers and has even
hit the New York Times bestseller list a few times. What
people don’t realize is that even when an author sells a shit
ton of books, they don’t necessarily make a shit ton of
money.
Some months she makes loads, other months she earns
practically nothing, which means that although we almost
always manage to pay the bills, we need the money I make
working at the diner to bridge the gaps between the good
months and the bad.
The only reason I can afford to attend Green Acres
Academy—a classy private school in North Acres—is
because my mom got a big advance from her publisher to
write the next three books in her current series and she
paid my tuition in advance for my freshman and sophomore
years. If I’ll be able to attend here for my junior and senior
years is kind of up in the air at the moment.
Climbing out of the car, I smooth down my green-plaid
skirt and hook the straps of my backpack over my
shoulders. The kids at GAA are all rich, and even though
they’re not assholes to me, they know that I’m not one of
them. Thank God the diner I work at is in South Acres,
because if anyone here came to the place I work and I had
to wait on them, they’d never let me forget it.
I’m not ashamed of having a job, I’m happy to contribute
to take some of the pressure off my mom. But to the kids
that go here, their idea of a part-time job is interning at
their parents’ Fortune 500 company, not serving burgers in
a run-down diner in a rough part of town.
“I’m so excited for sophomore year,” Court exclaims,
hooking her arm through mine and marching us toward the
school entrance.
“Really? Why?”
“Duh, because we’re not the newbies anymore, select
sophomores get invited to all the good parties, and we’re
going to be two of those people. We’re both hot, maybe we
could even get junior boyfriends and then we’d be a shoo-in
to be Elite by the time we hit our senior year.”
Green Acres Academy has a ridiculous tradition where
instead of having prefects, they have The Elite, it’s a group
of seniors that basically constitute the most popular kids in
school. Each year, the graduating seniors name The Elites
for the following year, or at least that’s how it normally
goes. The reigning Elites weren’t picked when they were
juniors, they were picked when they were freshmen. From
what I’ve been told, that’s never happened before.
Evan Morris, Hunter Rossberg, Clay Jansen and the king
himself, Sebastian Lockwood entered the school as rich
nobodies and by the end of their freshmen year, they were
running the place. According to Courtney, who actually
pays attention to the social hierarchy at GAA, their
uninterrupted reign of terror hasn’t ever been challenged,
because even as freshmenthe seniors all deferred to
whatever the four of them said.
Normally The Elites are a mix of boys and girls, but the
guys have never added any girls to their power foursome.
Instead, they have a rotating harem of eager Elite bunnies
who all think they have a shot at the crown if they spread
their legs for one of the guys.
What makes no sense to me is that these girls all see
fucking an Elite as a badge of honor, and if they manage to
bag all four, then I think they get special privileges or
something. In this day and age, surely we should all be
aiming to get ahead with something more progressive than
what’s between our legs.
Courtney’s chattering away as we walk, but I’m not
really listening to her. The closer we get to the school the
more tense I feel. My bestie spent all summer at pool
parties or lounging on the beach at bonfires with our
classmates. I spent my summer working every shift my boss
Henry would give me. While she was getting tan in a bikini,
I was sweating through my polyester waitress uniform.
I’m not jealous of the parties; they aren’t really my
scene anyway, but I am jealous of the friendship and
connections she made this summer. Before high school, the
disparity between mine and Court’s lifestyles didn’t seem
as wide as it does now, and I’m not sure I can survive this
place without her if she starts to realize I’m not playing in
the same league as her.
 “Oh my god, look at them. I swear my panties almost
melt off just from looking at them,” Court says loudly, her
grip on my arm tightening.
“Who?”
“Seriously,” she huffs. “The Elite.”
My eyes follow her line of sight and there they are, the
four beautiful boys, Clay, Evan, Hunter and Sebastian. Even
in their uniforms they look like they’re posing for a Calvin
Klein advertisement. GAA has a strict dress code, green-
plaid skirts or pinafores, white blouses, green ties and
blazers for the girls. Tan chinos, white shirts, green ties
and green blazers for the boys. We basically all look like
extras from Gossip Girl, but somehow The Elite boys make
the forest-green jackets look good.
I’ll never admit it to Court, but I don’t know which boy is
which. All four guys are over six feet tall, well built and
muscular. GAA doesn’t indulge in the classic high school
sports so there’s no football or basketball teams. Instead,
the guys do lacrosse, rowing and fencing, and The Elite
dominate in all three. Clay is the captain of the rowing
team, Evan fencing and Sebastian lacrosse. They also hold
the top four spots on the class list and have done since they
started.
Now that I think about it, I suppose it makes sense that
they became Elites so early on. Top of their class, captains
of all the sports teams, good-looking, and of course,
outrageously rich. Individually, perhaps they could have
been toppled. Together, they’re an unstoppable force.
“God, can you imagine getting one of them as your
boyfriend?” Court says dreamily.
“No,” I laugh. “They don’t have girlfriends, they have
bunnies who drop their panties the moment one of them
clicks their fingers.”
“Maybe if they met the right girl”
“Jesus, Court, get a grip,” I snap. “Please don’t get
dragged into their web; they’d pass you around and then
discard you. That’s not what you want, is it?”
“I suppose not, although I bet it’d be fun,” she sighs.
“They’re just so pretty.”
Laughing, I shake my head and then pull her away,
dragging her past The Elite and into the school.

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 2

SEBASTIAN

“F ly away, little bird,” I mutter quietly as I watch her

drag her friend across the parking lot and into the
school building. Despite the dirty sneakers and messy
braid, my little bird is just as beautiful as always. I noticed
her the moment she walked through the doors the first day
of term last year. So pretty, so sweet, so innocent.
I thought about taking her right then and there,
separating her from her friend and making her mine for the
whole school to see. But I didn’t. I’m an Elite, I have a
certain reputation to uphold, a legacy to protect, and
there’s no way I could risk it all by touching a freshman.
GAA has been providing an education to the youth of
North Acres for over a hundred years. According to the
records, there’s been Elites here since the very start and
the tradition will continue long after we leave. With The
Elite legacy comes rules, and one of those is that even we
don’t get to mess with the freshmen.
Everyone who enters these hallowed halls has a year to
show the rest of the school who they are. A whole year to
sink or swim. Those who swim survive, those who sink do
not, but everyone gets their year.
Me and my friends are an exception. We didn’t just swim
after our arrival at the school, we soared, and The Elite at
the time saw that. It pissed off a lot of people when Clay,
Evan, Hunter and I were named as Elites at the end of our
freshmen year. When we beat down anyone who thought to
question our status, it soon became common knowledge to
everyone that we are the kings of this school until the day
we leave.
Sure, I could probably have broken the rules and
claimed my girl, but I wanted to watch her, to see what she
did, see the impact she’d make before I took her. For a
whole year I’ve watched and waited, refusing to allow
myself to become any more obsessed. I don’t even know
her name, all I know is that she’s mine. Now her year is up,
and it’s time to elevate her to her rightful place at my side.
“You ready to know?” Clay asks from beside me.
It’s rare I ever let anyone sneak up on me, my little bird
is the only thing that distracts me enough that I stop paying
attention to what’s going on around me. “Let’s go in,” I tell
him, not answering his question just in case anyone else is
listening in.
Clay whistles, and both Evan and Hunter’s heads turn in
this direction.
“Let’s go,” I say, tipping my head toward the school
building.
Standing, they brush off the bunnies that are crawling
all over them and head over. Clay and I start to walk and a
sudden hush falls over the students that are mulling
around. The reverence and adulation should be
cringeworthy, and it kind of is, but I’m not going to lie, it’s
good to be king.
Being Elite is more than just a status thing, we also have
a role within the school we’re expected to play. We
maintain peace between the students, enforce the ancient
GAA rules and mete out punishments when we have to. The
faculty trust us to do what’s expected and in repayment,
they turn a blind eye to whatever we do to keep order.
When GAA originally opened it was a boarding school,
but thirty years ago the last dorm shut down and the rooms
were repurposed. The one room that remains intact and
relatively unchanged from all those years ago, is The Elite
common room. This room has belonged to the reigning
Elites for nearly a hundred years. It’s a sacred space that
only The Elite can use.
The familiar smell of old leather, books and cinnamon
hits me the moment I push through the door. For every
other reigning Elite in the past, this room has only been
theirs for a year. For us, this is our third, and as such we’ve
left our mark more so than our predecessors. We’ve added
a few updates, like a huge flat-screen TV, a PlayStation and
a fancy coffee machine. But more than that, this is our
private space where we can relax without the constant
adoration and scrutiny of the rest of the school.
I wait for the others to enter the room and close the
door before I speak. “Tell me everything.”

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 3

STARLING

O kay, so maybe being a sophomore does come with a few

perks. My locker is in a much better position and my
homeroom is in the main building instead of being in the
cold annex that used to be one of the dorms from back
when the school had student housing.
Sophomores can use the coffee cart in the quad and we
get to have lunch in the restaurant-style cafeteria complete
with serving staff, instead of the freshmen one where you
have to line up with your tray.
On the other side though, sophomores are fair game to
the older kids. There’s an unwritten rule at GAA that
freshmen are off-limits. No one gets to bully them or do
anything to them; they’re basically ignored for the first
year, but after that, all bets are off.
Our sophomore class is down ten people. Seven boys
and three girls have apparently transferred to other
schools, which is kind of weird considering the next closest
private school is nearly an hour away, and there aren’t any
public schools in North Acres.
Now that everyone is fair game, I’ve already seen one
kid in my class being dragged into an empty classroom by a
bunch of juniors. I’d have intervened, but the kid, Elliot, is
a grade A asshole who tried to shove his hand up my skirt
this morning. Him getting his ass kicked kind of feels like
karma.
Courtney and I are in different classes this year which
sucks. She’s super smart and her parents have her in all AP
classes, I think they’re hoping she’ll be able to skip a grade
and graduate early. I’m a middle-of-the-road, average
student, and right now there are no AP classes in my future
unless I want to fail them. So I’ve been friendless all
morning while Court learns all the important stuff they
teach to the brainiacs.
Heading to my locker, I twist the combination into my
lock and pull it open, shoving my backpack inside and
pulling my wallet and cell out. School rules say no cells,
except at lunch. It drives my social-butterfly bestie crazy,
but it doesn’t bother me too much. I don’t really have any
friends here except for Court. I went to grade school with
most of the kids in my class, but once they realized I wasn’t
one of them, I became a social pariah. Only Court stuck by
me once she realized my family was just normal and not
superrich.
“Hey, bestie,” she singsongs as she skips down the hall
toward me. Court has so much pep she could take on the
entire cheer squad on her own. She’s bouncy and
enthusiastic and well, she just has an awful lot of school
spirit. I’m the opposite, I go here because my mom spent a
small fortune to send me here. I don’t love the place, in fact
I don’t even particularly like the place. But the alternative
is the public school in South Acres, where you have to go
through metal detectors and have your bag checked for
weapons before you can even get inside.
Court barely breathes as she talks at a hundred miles an
hour, telling me about all the drama she’s heard this
morning. Someone’s parents split up and are in the middle
of a very nasty and very public divorce. Someone’s dad got
arrested for embezzlement, and someone else is fucking
their pool boy. I listen and nod in all the right places. This
stuff is important to Court because she’s a part of their
world, but I’m not. I have a job and bills and
responsibilities; I don’t care what the rich bitches of North
Acres are doing.
“Are you listening to me?” she snaps.
“Emma Jerico’s parents are fighting over the ski lodge in
Canada, Hayden Long’s dad stole ten million from his
clients, and Jeff Winterborne is exploring his sexuality with
his family’s Puerto Rico pool boy,” I repeat back to her, my
voice monotone and bored.
“Did you hear that Elliot Williams got his ass kicked by
some juniors?”
“I actually did, I saw them dragging him into one of the
science labs. He’s an asshole, he tried to grope my vagina
this morning, he deserves a beatdown,” I say with a shrug.
“Oh my god, he tried to grope you?” She looks aghast,
the other thing about Court is that despite the world she
inhabits, and the fact that having endless amounts of
money tends to give the kids we go to school with an
unhealthy sense of entitlement, she isn’t like that. In fact,
she’s almost naively innocent.
“I planned to knee him in the balls, but Logan saw him
with his hand up my skirt and dragged him off me before I
got a chance.”
“Logan has the biggest crush on you,” she smirks.
“He does not. He’s just a nice guy. He saw Elliot being
an asshole and stepped in.”
“Would you date him, if he asked?”
“Logan? No, he’s cute, but I’m not interested in dating
anyone at GAA. Can you imagine their face if I took them
back to my house? The kids that go here spontaneously
combust if they step into South Acres,” I laugh.
Rolling her eyes, she pushes open the door to the
cafeteria and pulls me inside. “No one would care about
where you live.”
 “No, you don’t care about where I live and that’s
because you’re the most amazing person I know, but the
other kids that go here, they all care. That’s why no one but
you speaks to me. I’m inconsequential to them and that’s
okay, they’re inconsequential to me too.”
Stepping into the large open-plan dining area, the smell
of garlic and tomato hits my nose and I inhale greedily. “Oh
wow something smells good.”
“I think I gained ten pounds just from the calories in the
air, but it does smell amazing. You need to eat it for me.”
“Come on, let’s find a seat. I can’t believe we order our
food from an app instead of having to wait at the counter,” I
say, steering her toward an empty table.
“Being a sophomore rocks.”
Sitting down, we both pull out our cells and order our
food. I get the lasagna with a green salad and a bottle of
water, my mouth already watering in anticipation.
“Skinless chicken breast salad, dressing on the side and
a bottle of water,” Court says aloud as she taps at the
screen of her cell.
“You don’t need to watch your weight, you’re practically
skin and bone as it is.”
“If I want to fly this year, I can’t gain even an ounce.
Heidi is making us do a weigh-in each week on a Friday
and if you gain, you don’t get to cheer.”
“Having cheerleaders at fencing competitions is
ridiculous anyway, you should quit and then you can eat
whatever you want,” I scoff.
“Did you see how cute the new cheer uniforms are?
There’s no way I’m giving up the chance to wear one of
those. And I’m a flyer, it’s practically a one-way ticket to
Elite status.”
The uniforms are tiny fitted forest-green crop tops, with
the school logo emblazoned across the front in gold, and an
equally tiny green skirt with gold trim. I’m sure she’s going
to look fantastic in it, but there’s no way I’d starve myself
all year just to be able to wear it once a week to hop
around cheering when one pretentious asshole stabs
another pretentious asshole with a blunt sword.
Our food arrives and it looks as good as it smells. My
mom is a quarter Italian. I’m not sure which quarter,
because none of the relatives I know of on her side will
admit to being a part of the Italian contingent. But her
imagined heritage has given her a love for all things Italian
cooking. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how
you look at it, this means that my house is always full of
freshly made pasta for salads, sauces and lasagna. Cutting
into the steaming square of tomatoey, creamy, cheesy
goodness, I bring the forkful to my mouth and eat, it's
delicious and I hum in approval as I chew.
“God, I hate you so much right now,” Court says, glaring
at me then down to the green leafy salad in front of her.
“You sound like you’re on the verge of a foodgasm.”
“That’s because I am,” I say, my mouth full of my second
bite of yumminess.
“How are you so skinny? You should be the size of a
truck.”
“Just lucky, I guess,” I tell her, although the truth is, I
work too much, sleep too little and most of the time I forget
to eat. The only time I had off this summer was the three
weeks when I went to visit with my dad. He owns and runs
a fishing boat in Maine so instead of relaxing, I spent my
time with him helping out on the boat. It’s hard work and
long hours, but it’s the only time I get to see him and I
don’t mind a little hard work. For once, hauling nets and
lobster out of the sea has paid off. I have a layer of muscle
that only comes from exercise and a diet that mainly
consisted of things caught on a line from the sea.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles and the
horrible sensation of being watched hits me. It’s irrational,
I’m in a roomful of people, no one is looking at me
specifically, more than likely it’s just kids scanning the
surroundings, but I can’t help feeling watched.
Surreptitiously, I take a moment and glance around the
room, but it’s packed and if someone is looking at me,
they’re not being obvious about it.
“Are you okay?” Court asks.
“Yeah, I just had that horrible feeling of being watched,
do you know what I mean?” I wrinkle my nose, hating that I
sound like an idiot.
“Oh my gosh, I get that all the time when I get out of the
pool at night and have to walk back up to the house. It’s
creepy.”
I can’t help but smile at my sweet, ditsy friend. “Really
creepy,” I laugh, stabbing my fork into my lasagna and
ignoring the lingering sensation of eyes on me.

OceanofPDF.com
 4

SEBASTIAN

T he information Clay gave me about my little bird is

running on a loop through my head.
Starling Kennedy, sixteen, born September 4 in Maine.
Her mother’s name is Cassidy Clark, thirty-two, author
writing successful thriller novels. Father, Derek Kennedy,
forty, lives in Maine, owns and runs a lobster fishing boat.
Starling lives with her mother in a small house slap bang
on the border between North and South Acres. Their
mortgage is more than they can afford and Cassidy takes
other writing jobs in between publishing novels to help pay
the bills and her credit card debt. They don’t own a car,
although both mother and daughter have their driving
permits. Starling works at the Yummy Tummy diner in
South Acres and rides the bus to and from work. She works
three or four nights a week and most weekends for
minimum wage. She must give all her wages to her mom
because she only has twenty-five dollars in her checking
account.
Her parents divorced when she was two years old,
around the time Cassidy published her first successful book
and bought the house they currently live in when they
moved to Green Acres. Starling only sees her father once a
year for a couple of weeks during the summer break, when
she works on his fishing boat.
 She has one friend, Courtney Ortega, fifteen, daughter
of Larrissa and Michael Ortega. Cheerleader. They live in a
decent house in North Acres, and Courtney has a
substantial trust fund which she will gain access to once
she graduates from high school.
Courtney’s family driver collected Starling from her
home and drove her to and from school every day during
their freshmen year. Now Courtney has her driver’s license,
she instead picked Starling up from her home this morning.
Starling is an average student, passing all of her classes
with an average of a B on most assignments. Her mother
paid two years tuition up front when she enrolled Starling
in the school and if their financial situation does not
improve, my little bird will have to transfer to the hellhole
public school in South Acres for her junior and senior
years.
All of these facts paint a picture of the girl I’ve been
obsessing over for the last year, but even knowing all these
things about her, I still don’t know her.
I don’t know if she keeps her hair long and wears it in a
braid every day because she doesn’t want to waste money
on a haircut, or if she just likes it that way. I don’t know if
she resents her father for never coming here to visit her or
if she’s happy she’s only forced to see him once a year. I
don’t know if her creamy thighs are as smooth as they
appear, or how they’ll look with bite marks all over from
where I plan to bury my head between them and lick her
virgin pussy.
I don’t know enough, and I need to change that. The ban
on her has been lifted and it’s time to claim her, to make
sure that the entire school knows she belongs to The Elite,
to me. She’s too beautiful to be left unprotected, that little
fuckwit Elliot Williams already tried to touch what’s mine
today. He’s lucky I only ordered an ass kicking, not for him
to have his fucking hand removed.
 The juniors and seniors already know that Starling is off-
limits. They don’t know why, but they were warned the
moment she stepped onto my radar that she was
untouchable, that she had The Elites’ protection. Thank
fuck Logan is in her homeroom, he saw Elliot shove his
hand up my little bird’s skirt and dragged the asshole off
her. If he hadn’t, if that fucker had touched her, had
breached her or even got the scent of my little bird’s pussy
on his skin, I’d have killed him.
As it is, he’ll probably be pissing blood for a few days
and he’s going to have to find a new school. Or maybe I’ll
let him stay so he can act as a warning to everyone else at
GAA about what happens if you touch The Elites’ property.
My body heats with awareness as she walks into the
cafeteria, her arm looped through her friend’s. She’s so
beautiful, so perfect, so utterly mine. Even though she
doesn’t know it yet.
I want to go and get her, to have her sit on my lap while
I feed her, but instead I watch as they head to an empty
table on the other side of the room. Last year she wasn’t a
temptation, because the freshmen eat in a different dining
area, but now she’s here, her cell in her hand, laughing,
and I can’t tear my eyes away.
Clay’s research is always one-hundred-percent accurate.
So when he told me she and her mother ate a lot of Italian
food, I contacted the kitchens and made sure they altered
the menu just for her. I’m pleased to see that he was right,
as the server delivers the lasagna I arranged to her table. I
watch as she cuts off a slice and eats it, her eyes closing,
her smile wide. She likes it. I’m glad. She’s skinny, but I
don’t think it’s deliberate. Not like her friend who orders a
salad and stares longingly at my little bird’s lunch.
According to Clay’s research, she usually gets home late
and gets up early, working as many hours as Henry, her
boss, will give her.
 She’s exhausted, but I can fix that. I can look after her,
take care of her. I’m only seventeen, but I know that
Starling is mine, that our age is irrelevant. The way I feel
about her might perhaps be called obsession, but I prefer
to think of it as all-consuming desire. Whatever it is, it’s
time to make her understand she’s mine.
When she stills and looks around, I know she can feel my
eyes on her. I want her to know she’s being watched, but I
don’t want her to know it’s me who can’t look away. Not
yet. Lowering my gaze, I carefully keep her in my periphery
until she goes back to eating. The moment I know she can’t
see me, I allow my gaze to lift to her again and I don’t look
away for the rest of lunch.
If I could, I’d have moved myself into her classes, or her
into mine, but I can’t. I’m still a senior and she’s a
sophomore, but just because I’m not in the room doesn’t
mean I don’t have eyes on her. Being one of The Elite is like
holding the keys to the kingdom and everybody wants to be
us. It was almost too easy to recruit someone in each of her
classes to surreptitiously keep watch over her. Of course,
they don’t actually know why they’re watching. As far as
they’re concerned, they’re just doing a task for me, like
passing out assigned seating charts for each class so my
little bird is exactly where I want her to be, in full view of
the security cameras that are fitted in each classroom.
I’m not a complete psycho; I don’t sit in a dark room
watching her on a computer screen all day, I have my own
classes to attend. But I do have access to all of the security
recordings and livestream and if I wanted to peruse the
footage of her English class, I could.
By the time the last bell of the day rings, I’m more than
ready to claim her and feel her full pouty lips against mine.
I’ve been imagining how excited she’ll be when I make her
my queen for over a year, and today is finally the day. I’ve
been patient, but I won’t wait a moment longer.
 Her friend has cheer practice after school today, which
means my little bird is without a ride home. There isn’t a
school bus, GAA is more likely to offer a car service than a
communal bus so without her ride, she’s stranded here.
I want the whole school to see her with me, to truly
understand how off-limits she is, but that can wait until
tomorrow when I walk her into the school holding my hand.
Taking my time, I stroll down the halls, my eyes constantly
searching for her, my dick hard, eager to make her mine.
She’s sixteen, legal, but as far as Clay can find, she’s never
had a boyfriend before. I’m glad I’ll get to be her first, her
only.
By the time I reach the main doors, I’m concerned that I
haven’t found her yet. She could be in the library, or
watching Courtney from the bleachers, but I assumed she’d
wait out front for her. Pulling my cell from my pocket I type
out a message into the group chat I share with the other
Elites.

Me: Where is she?

Evan, Clay and Hunter are my brothers in every way

except for blood. Our parents are friends, we grew up
together, holidayed together, plan to go to college together.
We’re a team and although they don’t really understand my
obsession with my little bird, after a year of watching, they
feel almost as protective of her as I do.

Evan: She’s not in the gym, the friend is at practice

but there’s no sign of Starling.

Hunter: on my way to the library

Clay: She’s not in the library and I can’t find her on

any of the cameras.
 Annoyance barrels through me. Once I’ve claimed her,
she’ll learn the rules, and her place. Then I won’t have to
seek her out, she’ll be where I tell her to be waiting for me.
A new message pings on my cell just as I’m shoving it
into my pocket, and I quickly click into the screen.

Clay: Just checked the footage for the parking lot, she
walked off the school grounds about five minutes ago.

Me: And went where????

Clay: No idea, she walked off the site and out of the
camera’s view.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m running out of the

building and toward my car that’s parked in the lot. We all
drove together, but I don’t care. I’m just starting the engine
as the others appear and jump in, then we’re careening out
of the lot and down the street.
“Where the fuck would she go? There’s nothing around
here, no stores or restaurants, it’s too far for her to walk
back to her house, it’s at least five miles,” I mutter
distractedly as I drive too fast, my eyes scanning the street
for her.
“Could she be getting a ride with someone else?” Evan
asks.
“I doubt it, she doesn’t speak to anyone but the
cheerleader,” Hunter says.
“There,” Clay shouts, leaning between the front seats to
point ahead of us where Starling is climbing onto a Green
Acres city bus.
The bus pulls away from the curb and into traffic before
I can even process what I’m seeing. She rides the bus, of
course she rides the bus, why didn’t I consider that? She
rides the bus everywhere else, it makes sense that she
wouldn’t hang out after school for an hour, when she has an
alternative way to get home.
“I didn’t even know the city bus stopped in North
Acres,” Evan says, his tone perturbed.
“The bus, huh,” Clay mumbles, his voice that odd tone
that means he’s intrigued by something he wasn’t
expecting. Clay is a genius and not just someone who
thinks they’re smart, he’s a legit genius. His IQ is off the
charts high. He could have finished high school and
probably be on his way to graduating college by now, but
he didn’t want to do it without the rest of us, so he’s stayed
in school and takes online college classes to keep his brain
active.
“I’m going to her place, I’ll drop you all off at home
first.”
“Do you think ambushing her at her house with her mom
there is the right way to go?” Hunter cautions.
“I’ve been waiting a fucking year, I’m done waiting.”
“Bro, you’ve never even spoken to her, turning up at her
house and telling her she’s yours is going to scare the shit
out of her. You need to at least try to ease her into this.”
“No,” I growl, angry that he’s suggesting I delay
claiming her even a moment longer.
Evan sighs. “We’ll come with you, just in case you lose
your shit.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” I snarl, shifting gear
and accelerating down the street, passing the bus my girl is
sitting on and barely managing to suppress the urge to
force it to stop so I can drag her ass off it.
“Dude, you’re doing nearly ninety miles an hour in a
thirty zone, you definitely need us to come and keep you
calm.” Clay laughs.
Exhaling, I glance down at the speedometer and
immediately lift my foot from the accelerator, watching the
needle drop down to a more acceptable fifty miles an hour.
Forcing myself to calm, I drive through North Acres and
toward the no-man’s-land where Starling’s home is
situated. The modest house is either the destitute relative
of North Acres or The Elite of South Acres and I’m not sure
which it is.
Not that it really matters, she won’t be spending much
time here once she’s mine. My home is big enough to fit
her whole house in just the kitchen and dining rooms. Her
mom might not be okay with her moving in with me, but
I’m sure I can make her understand I’m not really giving
either of them much of a choice.
If I need to, I’ll marry my little bird right now, then she’ll
be mine legally and her mother won’t be able to stop me
doing whatever I want to my wife. I like the way that
sounds. My wife. I’m only seventeen, far too young to be
thinking about getting married, but I’ll do whatever I have
to do to get my way, and if that means putting a ring on
Starling’s finger, then that’s what I’ll do.
Reaching her house, I pull up at the curb outside.
There’s no way that the bus made it back here before we
did, so I don’t bother getting out and going to the door.
Now that I’m here, I might as well tell my little bird that
she’s mine before she goes inside and informs her mother,
then she can pack a bag for tonight and we can go back to
my place.
“Dude, you have that scary look on your face again,
what the hell is going on in that psycho head of yours?”
Hunter asks with a smirk.
“I’m just considering what I’ll do if her mother decides
to be a problem.”
“Starling’s sixteen, I think we can all agree that her
mom is probably going to have a problem with you basically
wanting to kidnap her daughter and keep her prisoner on
your dick,” Evan laughs.
“She’s mine and I don’t plan to get her pregnant yet,
what we do is none of her mother’s business.”
 “Jesus, Bastian, please don’t say that to the girl or her
mother, you really do sound like a fucking psycho,” Evan
laughs.
The scary thing is that I feel psychotic, I have since the
moment I laid eyes on her. I don’t know what it is about
Starling that drives this urge to own, control and consume
her, but the longer I’ve waited the more intense it’s
become. I don’t just want to date her, I want to lock her in a
gilded cage and keep her all to myself, my perfect little
bird.
Ten minutes pass and there’s still no sign of her.
“Do you want to go and knock? Could the bus have
taken a shortcut?” Hunter asks.
“It didn’t, I’m on their website and the bus route takes a
pretty direct path through North Acres, only stopping twice
until it passes into South Acres where it stops ten more
times before it hits the bus depot. Assuming the bus she
was on didn’t encounter a delay, which is unlikely, she
should have been home by now,” Clay tells us.
No one disagrees or questions him, like I mentioned,
he’s a genius and if he says she should be home by now,
then she should be home.
“Could she have stopped to get groceries or
something?” Evan suggests
“She shops at the grocery store in South Acres, and she
only went yesterday,” Clay tells us matter-of-factly.
“You’re such a good little stalker,” Hunter laughs.
“Could she have gone to work?” Clay suggests.
“I thought you said she doesn’t normally work on
Mondays, or this early,” I say, panic rising in my chest.
Unclipping my seat belt I open my door, climb out and
stride up the path to her house, ringing her doorbell.
When the door hasn’t been opened a minute later, I
press the doorbell again and then once more just for good
measure. Waiting impatiently, I tap my finger against the
doorframe, until the sound of someone descending the
stairs comes from inside.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” her mother calls, a moment
before the door is thrown open and an older version of
Starling looks up at me.
“Hello, Ms. Clarke. Is Starling home?”
The woman in front of me assesses me for a moment,
her eyes narrowing slightly as she looks me over. “And you
are?” she asks me coolly.
“I’m one of Starling’s classmates, I was hoping I could
speak to her about a school project, but we forgot to
exchange cell phone numbers earlier,” I tell her, using the
polished, cajoling tone I use whenever I’m around my
parents’ obnoxious friends.
“Oh,” Cassidy says, exhaling a shaky breath as she
smiles up at me, like somehow me going to GAA makes me
less threatening. “I’m sorry, she’s not back from school yet,
would you like to leave a message for her?”
Furrowing my brow, I grit my teeth and try not to let my
frustration show. This is my little bird’s mother, why the
fuck doesn’t she know where her daughter is? Why isn’t
she concerned that she’s late getting home? “No that’s fine,
I’ll speak to her tomorrow in class.”
Turning, I stride down the path back toward my car as
she calls. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
Ignoring her, I climb back into the car, turn on the
engine and pull away from the curb. “Track her cell,” I
snarl to Clay, who shakes his head, but immediately starts
pressing the screen on the tablet he has on his lap.
In the year since I first laid eyes on Starling, I’ve had the
ability to track her cell phone and find out her
whereabouts, but I’ve refrained, for the most part, just like
I didn’t allow myself to know her name or anything about
her. But everything’s changed now and I won’t hold back
anymore.
 “She’s at the diner,” Clay announces, lowering the tablet
to his lap, a map with a flashing dot visible on the screen.
Without saying a word, I turn my car in the direction of
the shitty diner my little bird works at, and race through
the streets of South Acres until I park in the lot outside a
crumbling-looking building. The sign above the door—that
might have had neon lights attached to it in its heyday—
welcomes us to the Yummy Tummy diner, and I feel my
nose wrinkle as I think about her working in this shithole.
“Jesus, this is a cesspit,” Evan says, pushing open his
door and grimacing at the diner, like he can sense the
salmonella from outside.
“Please tell me you don’t plan to actually eat here,”
Hunter laughs.
Rolling my eyes, I ignore my friends as I climb out of my
car, wait for them all to follow suit then lock it behind me.
This is a shitty neighborhood and if I’d have known we
were coming here, I’d have had one of The Elite wannabe’s
follow us to keep watch over my car. My Mercedes isn’t
particularly flashy, but it’s an eighty-thousand-dollar
vehicle and I’d rather the wheels were still on it once I’ve
collected my girl.
The bell above the door buzzes brokenly as I push it
open and make my way into the run down, but surprisingly
clean-looking restaurant. A harried-looking middle-aged
woman wearing a pink-and-red waitress dress smiles at us
from behind the counter. Grabbing menus, she strides over.
“Hey there, boys, my name is Darlene, why don’t you follow
me and I’ll get you set up.”
“We’re looking for Starling,” I tell her simply.
Her step falters and she glances nervously over her
shoulder at us. “Her shift doesn’t start for another fifteen
minutes, what do you want with her?”
My jaw clenches, and I open my mouth to demand that
she get Starling out here right this fucking minute or I’ll
get this health hazard of a diner shut down within the hour,
but Hunter speaks before I can utter a word.
“We’re friends of hers from school, could we sit in her
section and we’ll order some drinks while we wait?”
His voice is pure seduction and Darlene, who is easily
old enough to be his mother, actually blushes. “Oh, you go
to that fancy school over in North Acres?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter winks.
“I should have guessed that from the uniforms.” She’s
smiling now, all of the concern gone as she leads us to a
different table from the one she was originally taking us to.
“What can I get you to drink?”
“I’ll have root beer if you have it,” Hunter smiles,
charming the older woman as easily as if she was one of his
teenage fangirls at school.
“What about for you?” she asks me.
“Coffee, black, please.”
Clay and Evan order Cokes and she disappears into the
back, returning a couple of minutes later with our drinks on
a tray. “Here you go, Starling is just getting changed into
her uniform, she’ll be out soon.”
Knowing she’s getting undressed makes me want to
storm back there and drag her out by her hair. It’s so long,
I could use it as a leash when she has it in a braid. Instead,
I sit in the booth, my eyes fixed on the swinging door that
leads into the kitchen until it opens and my little bird walks
into the diner.
She immediately spots us and as if she already
understands she belongs to me, her gaze locks with mine.
This is the first time I’ve allowed my eyes to really find
hers, the first time I’ve been this close. From a distance
she’s beautiful, but this close, she’s stunning. Her features
are petite and there’s a sprinkling of freckles across her
nose that I can see now she’s only a few feet away from me.
Her breasts are small, high and perky, her hips narrow, her
body a little too thin.
 She’s perfect, even in the ugly uniform that hides her
barely there curves.
“Er, hi,” she says as she approaches our table, her
expression confused. “Are you ready to order?”
Evan snickers and I flash a glare at him before I turn
back to my little bird. “We’re not here to eat.”
“Okay,” she says slowly, elongating the word as she
slides her pad into the pocket of her dress and waits for me
to explain why I’m here. A long second passes while no one
speaks. “Shall I give you a minute, or should I get your
check?”
“I’m here for you,” I tell her succinctly, there’s no point
beating around the bush.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m here for you.”
“Yeah, that’s the bit I’m having difficulty with,” she
laughs, sighing like I’m inconveniencing her. “Who are you?
Do we know each other?”
“You know who we are,” Evan says with an exaggerated
laugh.
Her brows lift and she looks at us each in turn. “I mean,
obviously you go to my school, but other than that I’m
sorry, I’m drawing a blank.” She shrugs.
“You know who I am,” I tell her, staring at her intently,
looking for her twitch, her tell that proves she’s lying, that
she recognizes us, but there’s nothing.
“We’re The Elite,” Clay says simply.
Her eyes widen and her lips form a perfect O as she
looks between the four of us again.
“I’m Sebastian.”

OceanofPDF.com
 5

STARLING

“I ’m Sebastian.” His lips twitch into a charming smile as

he speaks, and I just stare at him.
Sebastian Lockwood, Evan Morris, Hunter Rossberg and
Clay Jansen are here, all four of them, in my section in the
diner I work in. I’m fucked. Nothing good can come of them
seeking me out in my place of work. Especially when that
place is in South Acres, the side of town that to my
knowledge The Elite never set foot in. Not that I know
anything about them really, except what Courtney has told
me.
Truthfully, before I started GAA, I didn’t believe that the
stupid stories about The Elite were even true. It just seems
too far fetched that the school would have kids that play
kings and queens and literally rule over the place with an
iron fist. But it’s true and the four boys—or should I say
men because they don’t look anything like boys—are the
rulers of our school and if they’re here, I must have done
something to really, really piss them off.
Sebastian is staring at me, with this intense expression
across his face that kind of makes me want to pee myself. I
try to think about what I could have done to warrant them
searching me out, but I really can’t think of anything.
Letting my gaze move from Sebastian to the others, I try to
figure out which boy is which. Courtney talks about the
four of them all the time, but apart from seeing them from
a distance, I’ve never paid any attention to the kings of
GAA.
“I didn’t think you guys came to this side of town?” I say,
wondering if they’re just here to scare the shit out of me.
“Why?” one of them asks.
“Sit,” Sebastian says, motioning for me to take the spot
next to him.
“I’m working.”
“How much do you earn per shift?”
“I’m really not sure how that’s any of your business,” I
snark, clamping my mouth shut the moment the words are
out there. Fuck, being bitchy to them isn’t going to help
things, but if they’ve come all the way to South Acres,
whatever I did, it’s bad, and they’re probably here to tell
me not to bother coming to school in the morning. I may
not have recognized them personally, but I’m familiar with
the power The Elite hold. They can get me expelled from
GAA just by clicking their fingers. I wonder if we get a
refund on my tuition if they do kick me out. Mom and I
could sure use the money.
“Little bird, are you listening?” Sebastian says,
demanding my attention when I was daydreaming about
the thousands of dollars my mom gave to the school for my
education.
Little bird? Did he call me little bird? “Seriously, why are
you here, if I’m expelled that’s fine, but my mom should get
a refund on my tuition, especially seeing as I have no idea
what I’ve done to warrant getting kicked out.”
I don’t realize that I’m waving my arms around until his
hot grip on my wrist stops me from gesticulating. “Sit,” he
growls, dragging me down and into the spot next to him as
one of the others shuffles out of the circular booth and
climbs in on the other side of me, trapping me between
them.
 “What are you doing? My boss will fire me if he comes
out and sees me sitting here instead of working.”
“That’s okay, you won’t be working here after tonight
anyway,” Sebastian informs me calmly.
I feel my eyes widen, then narrow. “What? Seriously, this
is insane, why are you all here?”
“I’m here to tell you that you’re mine, and to take you
home.” Sebastian grins.
I laugh. I can’t help it. I throw my head back and laugh
so loudly I probably sound like I’m losing my mind.
“What’s funny?” he demands, his grip on my wrist
tightening until it’s just shy of painful.
“Are you serious?” I chuckle. “You’re mine and I’m
taking you home,” I mimic, attempting to replicate his gruff
tone.
“Starling, you belong to The Elite now, it’s an honor,”
one of the others says, his expression so solemn I almost
take him seriously.
“The Elite. Yeah, sure,” I smile sardonically. “Which one
are you again?”
“Evan,” he smirks.
“Ahhh yeah, you’re the science lab defiler.”
“Excuse me,” he chokes out a laugh.
I wave my hand dismissively. “You were spotted having
sex in one of the science labs. Look, I really need to get
back to work.”
“Clay,” Sebastian says, looking to the guy who is sitting
on the other side of the table.
“Got it,” Clay nods, rising from his seat and striding
toward the door into the kitchen and staff area.
“What’s he doing? Why is he going back there?”
“He’s advising your boss that you no longer work here.”
Panic swells in my throat. “He can’t do that. I don’t
understand, what did I do? It’s the first day of school.”
The hand that’s holding my wrist loosens and he moves
to cup my cheek, his thumb rubbing gently back and forth.
“You didn’t do anything, little bird, but you’re mine now
and I want you with me, not working here in this hovel.”
His voice is so calm, so reasonable, even as he’s telling
me that I’m his now. I mean, what does that even mean?
His?
“I don’t know you,” I breathe.
“That’s okay, I know you and we have time for you to
learn all you need to know about me.”
The door to the back of the restaurant swings open and
Clay strides through, smiling widely with my backpack in
his hand.
His reappearance drags me from the haze Sebastian’s
touch has put me under and I turn away from his hand,
forcing him to move. “He has my stuff. Why does he have
my stuff?”
“Because we’re leaving,” he says simply, gesturing to
the guy who’s blocking my exit from the booth.
The guy—Hunter, I’m assuming as apparently the other
two are Clay and Evan—slides out and I quickly follow him,
rushing to grab my backpack from Clay and pulling it
tightly into my chest.
“Here’s your final check, your boss added a month’s pay
as severance,” Clay smiles.
Breathing becomes hard as the air around me seems to
become thinner and less effective. I need this job; my mom
and I need this money. She doesn’t even realize she’s
taking it from me, but at least with me contributing, the
lights don’t get turned off and there’s food in the
cupboards.
Eyeing these awful boys who have come in here and
turned my life upside down, I dart past them and into the
kitchen, ignoring Esteban, the chef, who calls to me as I
head for the manager’s office. The door is open and Henry
is sitting behind his worn, chipped, wooden desk.
“Henry, what’s going on? I need this job.”
 His face is pale, his normally sallow skin almost white as
his eyes stare unseeingly at the wall.
“Henry,” I call his name again.
“I’m sorry, Starling,” he says, turning his sad gaze on
me.
“What’s going on?” I beg. “Why?”
“Because if I continue to allow you to work here, they’ll
have this place shut down.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “They’re kids, they’re in high
school for god’s sake.”
“The Lockwoods, Jansens, Morrises and Rossbergs run
this town, even the shitty parts of it. I can’t risk this place
getting on their radar over a sixteen-year-old waitress. I’m
sorry, Starling, but you need to leave. I’ve given you a
month’s wages, I know you need the money to help out
your mom. But don’t come back here, you belong to them
now.”
I’m gaping, my bottom lip trembling as I take in what
he’s saying. I’ve just lost my job, he’s fired me because a
rich kid wearing his school uniform threatened him. I shake
my head. “I’m sorry too,” I whisper, turning and leaving his
office.
Sebastian is waiting for me in the cramped corridor, his
arms folded across his chest, his gaze imperious. He’s
taller than I realized, towering over my diminutive five-foot-
two height so I have to tip my head back to glare at him.
His hair is a dirty blond, shaved close to his head at the
sides, but long enough to style into a floppy mess on the
top. Piercing green eyes watch me closely, like he’s taking
in every detail and cataloging it. His expression is fire and
ice all at once, and I shiver beneath his penetrating gaze.
His arms are straining a little at the sleeves of his school
blazer, the green color complementing his olive-toned tan
skin. I don’t allow my eyes to venture farther down than his
chest, although I’m sure his legs are muscled from all the
sports I know The Elites are involved in.
 Being this close to him is stifling. Everyone at GAA is
aware of The Elite, their legacy is omnipresent everywhere
at school. It’s like royalty or the president, you know who
they are but you don’t know who they are.
I’ve never spoken to them, never seen them up close,
never considered them as more than a high school staple
that wouldn’t have an impact on me. I’m not one of the kids
that wants to be popular, I’m the polar opposite, I just want
to make it through my sophomore year with as little drama
and involvement as possible.
“Let’s go,” Sebastian orders.
“Go where?” I ask, shell-shocked.
“Home.”
“I can get the bus.”
“That won’t be happening again, the bus isn’t safe.”
“I’ve been riding the bus on my own for years, it’s
perfectly safe.”
“It won’t happen again,” he tells me, and there’s no
mistaking the order in his tone. His expression and his
voice say he’s not used to being disobeyed, and yet I don’t
seem to be able to heed the silent warning.
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“I can and I am. You won’t ride the bus again. Either I or
one of the others will take you anywhere you need to go
from now on.” He’s so calm, because he expects to be
obeyed and the thought of me not doing what he wants is
completely out of the question.
I laugh again, I just can’t help it. “What the hell is going
on? Who do you think you are to tell me what I can and
can’t do? This isn’t school.”
“I won’t allow you to put your safety at risk just for the
sake of being stubborn.” His fingers trace a line across my
cheek and I flinch, recoiling from his unfamiliar touch.
His expression darkens and he closes in on me, backing
me against the wall and keeping me prisoner with his body.
“You flinched. Why? I’d never hurt you. You’re mine, I’ll
only ever protect you.”
My lips part to speak, but I have to swallow several
times before my mouth is moist enough to make a sound.
“What if you’re the thing I need protecting from?” I
whisper.
A soft smile graces his lips, showcasing how full they
are. “No one can protect you from me, little bird.”
A shudder racks through me at the threat and promise
in his words. He’s telling the truth, or at least he believes
what he’s saying is the truth. This time when he reaches
out to touch me, he does it slowly, making sure I know it’s
coming. His palm strokes over my head, trailing his fingers
over my braid before giving it a gentle tug and smiling to
himself.
“We should go. I take it you haven’t eaten yet?”
Blinking up at him, I shake my head. “Esteban makes me
something on my break.”
“Who the fuck is Esteban?”
“The chef,” I whisper, fear roiling to life in my stomach.
For the first time since I found them sitting in my section,
I’m starting to sense the danger I’m in. Sebastian is an
Elite, they see themselves as untouchable, above the law.
His family is powerful old money, and just the mention of
their name and the potential reach they have was enough
to make my boss fire me. I’m out of my depth. I’m sixteen, a
virgin and although not poverty stricken, my family is
basically destitute in comparison to his wealth.
In the space of an hour, I’ve walked headlong into a
cautionary tale, the kind you see on after-school specials,
that warn about rich older boys preying on girls like me.
They spoil them with money, treat them like they’re special,
then rape and murder them, discarding their bodies on the
side of the road or in trash cans like they mean less than
nothing.
 Lost in my own thoughts, I startle, flinching again when
he presses his lips to my cheek, kissing me as he takes my
hand in his. Twining my fingers with his, he half leads, half
drags me out of the dingy corridor and into the restaurant
where the other three boys are waiting for me.
Three matching smirks stare back at me when I take in
the other Elites. Clay is all classic blond surfer, messy hair,
his tie loosened and askew. Evan is polished, his hair
combed into a side part, black-framed glasses giving him a
Clark Kent vibe that I’m sure makes even the smart girls
swoon. Hunter, the only one who I haven’t been directly
introduced to, is by far the biggest. With broad shoulders,
he’s the tallest of the four, and his sheer size is intimidating
even though his face is angular and beautiful, almost in
spite of his behemoth frame.
Evan heads for the exit and Sebastian moves after him,
towing me along behind as Clay follows and Hunter takes
up the rear. The movement feels practiced, like this is the
order they always move in, and I wonder if they do this at
school.
It isn’t until we get to a car at the curb that I start to
panic. What do they plan to do with me? I can’t get in that
car; something tells me if I do then it’ll only end badly for
me. “Let go of me,” I say, dragging my hand back in an
attempt to free myself from Sebastian’s grip.
Ignoring me, he hands my backpack off to Hunter, who
opens the trunk and drops it inside, then throws his keys to
Evan, who smirks as he opens the driver’s door and climbs
inside.
“I’m not getting in there, I don’t know you,” I tell him,
yanking and fighting to get away.
“Get in the car, little bird,” Sebastian says calmly.
“Stop calling me that. Let me go or I’ll scream.”
Stopping, he turns to look at me, not releasing his hold
on my hand as he closes the distance between us, wraps his
other hand around the back of my neck and yanks me in for
a hard kiss. Gasping in shock at his unexpected assault, my
lips part and he takes advantage, shoving his tongue into
my mouth.
I’ve never been kissed before. I feel pathetic even
admitting that inside my own mind. Who gets to sixteen
without kissing someone? Well, me, the nobody from the
wrong side of the border, that’s who. Turns out it’s pretty
easy to never play seven minutes in heaven when you’re
not invited to the party. The only person who ever invites
me anywhere is Courtney and as much as I love her, I have
no interest in making out with her.
I don’t kiss him back, and I’m pretty sure he growls
before he pulls his lips from mine, but stays close enough
that our foreheads are touching. I can feel his hot breath
against my mouth. “Scream all you want, no one will come,
no one will intervene and no one will take you from me.
You’re mine now, my little bird, and I’ll clip your wings if I
have to, just to make sure you can never fly away.”
His words are soft and almost romantic in tone, but
there’s no mistaking the threat in them. He’s a psycho,
completely insane and dangerous, and for some reason he’s
noticed me. I want to run, to fly away if I am the little bird
he keeps calling me, but before I get a chance to try to
escape, he lifts me and puts me in the car. Clay is blocking
the door on one side, I’m stuck in the middle with
Sebastian on the other side. I’m caged in, imprisoned, and I
have no idea how I’m going to get free now that he has me
in his clutches.
Frozen in fear, I try not to move or allow myself to touch
either of the boys beside me, despite how cramped it is in
the back seat.
“Text your mother and tell her you won’t be coming
home tonight,” Sebastian tells me softly.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
 “Because I’m sixteen, if I don’t come home she’ll call the
cops,” I snap, not caring how angry the terror I’m feeling is
making me sound. I should probably try to be nice, to
charm these scary boys into letting me go, but with all the
crazy things he’s told me so far, I don’t think it’ll work.
“Tell her you’re sleeping at Courtney’s house then,” he
says, reaching out and cradling my jaw again.
“She won’t believe me.”
“Why not?” he snaps, his grip tightening.
“Because I don’t stay over at her house, I’ve never
stayed there because her parents don’t like me. If we have
a sleepover, it’s always at my house.”
Tutting like the truth is incredibly inconvenient, he
sighs. “Fine, tonight, I’ll return you to your home, we’ll
have to come to some arrangement for the future.”
Relief at the fact that apparently they don’t plan to kill
me and dump my body tonight makes another bout of
tremors ricochet through my body.
“Are you cold? Why are you shaking?” Sebastian asks,
taking off his blazer and draping it over my shoulders
before he clicks my seat belt into place.
“I’m shaking because I’m scared,” I admit, the words
falling from my lips before I can swallow them back.
“Scared of what?”
“You,” I say, incredulous.
His eyebrows arch and he looks down on me with shock
etched across his expression. “You’re scared of me, even
though I’ve told you not to be?”
“You have basically kind of kidnapped her, bro,” Hunter
says, looking over at us from the front seat.
“She’s my girlfriend, you can’t kidnap your own
girlfriend,” Sebastian declares passionately.
A lump fills my throat and I can’t breathe. Girlfriend. He
thinks I’m his girlfriend. “I’m n-not your gir-girlfriend,” I
stammer out through my tight throat.
 “Would fiancée make you feel better? We can’t get
married until you turn seventeen, but I’m more than happy
to make it official now and then you can take the time to
plan the wedding of your dreams.”
My mouth parts and a helpless gasp falls from my lips. I
try to make more noise to argue, to try to escape, but
blackness starts to filter into my vision as it gets harder
and harder to breathe. Lifting my hand I claw at my throat,
but my limbs feel heavy right before the darkness
overwhelms me and I descend into silence.

OceanofPDF.com
 6

SEBASTIAN

T he hand I’m not holding lifts into the air, flops about
uncoordinatedly, before it falls back to her lap. Her eyes
widen manically and her mouth opens, but no sound comes
out. Her eyes roll all the way back and she slumps down to
the seat, her head rolling to the side and resting against
Clay’s arm.
“What the fuck!” I shout, grappling for her face, turning
it toward me.
“I think she just passed out,” Clay says, a hint of concern
lacing his words.
“Starling, Starling,” I call, tapping at her cheek carefully
as I pull her lax body away from my friend and into me
instead. If it wasn’t dangerous, I’d unclip her seat belt and
drag her into my lap, but I won’t risk her safety no matter
how much I want to feel her luscious body against mine.
“Call Dr. Harris, have him meet us at home,” I shout,
knowing one of my friends will do as I ask as I rest my
fingers against her wrist, feeling her pulse beat steadily.
Exhaling shakily, I curl my arm around her, wrapping my
blazer a little tighter around her shoulders, enjoying seeing
her in my clothes despite the circumstances.
“Is she okay?” Evan asks, glancing quickly over his
shoulder at us before he turns his attention back on to the
road.
 “You need to tone down the crazy, bro. You’re freaking
me out and I know you,” Hunter warns.
“I don’t need you to tell me how to deal with my
girlfriend.”
“We care about her too, Bastian,” he snaps. “We’re the
ones who’ve been keeping an eye on her for the last year
while you stopped yourself from going near her.”
“She’s mine,” I growl animalistically.
“Chill, no one’s trying to take her from you,” Clay says,
ever the peacekeeper of our group. “She’s yours, we all get
that, but you’re scaring her. She freaked out so much she
passed the fuck out from fear. You need to dial it back and
find some of that charm you’re famous for.”
Inhaling sharply, I nod, my fingers still at her pulse, the
steady beat of her heart the only reason I’m not completely
losing my shit right now.
“Doc’s on his way. Not going to be easy to explain why
you have an unconscious sixteen-year-old girl at your place
though,” Hunter warns.
“My parents know about her.”
“They do?” Evan asks, shocked.
“Of course they do. If she was eighteen I’d be moving
her in tonight. Unfortunately she’s not, but I thought it best
to warn them that they’d be meeting their future daughter-
in-law. They looked into her too, they probably know as
much about her as I do,” I say with a shrug.
“Fuck me, no doubt they’ve told my mom and dad.
They’ll be expecting me to lose my shit and bring home a
girl too now,” Hunter sighs dramatically.
“My dad will be giving me the lecture about how women
are only useful on their backs again,” Evan laughs.
Ignoring them, I focus all of my attention on the girl in
my arms. I never intended to scare her, I’d never hurt her
and I told her that. I assumed she’d be excited to be mine,
any other girl at school would be. Her body trembles, even
in her unconscious state and I scowl, wondering what I
need to do to make her understand. When the gates to my
house come into view I allow myself to relax a little.
Perhaps this has all just been a little too much for her
tonight. A lot has happened in a short amount of time and
she’s so sweet and innocent.
I don’t want to take her home, I want her in my house,
even if I can’t have her in my bed. A plan starts to form,
how I can keep her. She’s right, her mother would, I’m
sure, call the police if she failed to return home as
expected, but what about if she wasn’t expecting her?
Evan slows to a stop outside the front door to my house
and I don’t waste any time, unclipping my own seat belt
and then hers before I lift her into my arms and out of the
car. Richard, our house manager, opens the door before I
reach it and his brow arches in concern at Starling’s prone
body. “Could you please show Dr. Harris straight up to
Starling’s room when he gets here, please?”
“Of course, shall I inform your parents that you’re
home?”
“Yes, please, let them know Starling got a little
overwhelmed in the car and fainted. Assure them that I’m
having her checked over, but both her and her mother will
be staying here tonight.”
“Very good, sir,” Richard says, his old-fashioned, courtly
manners making me smile.
“You’re going to bring her mom here?” Clay asks on a
laugh as he follows me up the stairs and to the bedroom
beside mine that I had decorated for Starling this summer.
“I want her here, and if having her mother here is how I
achieve that, then so be it.”
Opening the door to her bedroom, I carry her inside,
then close it behind me, shutting my friends outside.
Crossing to the bed, I carefully lay her down onto the
comforter, pulling her sneakers off her feet and placing
them on the floor. I debate stripping her out of the ugly
waitress uniform, but decide against it. That wouldn’t be
easy to explain to her mother.
Sinking down onto the bed beside her, I run my fingers
through her hair. Her eyes flutter open and she blinks,
looking up at me as her full lips form an O shape. She
stares at me for a long moment, before her eyes roll back
and she slumps back into unconsciousness again. My heart
starts to beat at a frantic rate, just as there’s a knock at the
door. “Dr. Harris, thank you for coming on such short
notice.” I greet him, opening the door wider and allowing
him to enter. “This is my fiancée, Starling, she got a little
flustered in the car and passed out. I’ve been monitoring
her pulse, which is steady and strong, but she’s been in and
out for a little over five minutes now.”
“Has she come round at all?”
“Briefly for a few moments, then she passed out again,”
I tell him.
“Starling, can you hear me?”
Her eyelids start to flutter and she looks up from her
position on the bed. As she comes to, she blinks, looking
around in shock before her eyes land on me then the
doctor. Bolting upright, she wildly surveys the room, trying
to figure out where she is.
“Little bird, you passed out in the car, this is Dr. Harris,
he’s here to check you’re okay. Your mom’s on her way.”
“My mom?” she asks, pausing frantic eyes on me.
“I called her, she wanted me to bring you home, but
when I explained Dr. Harris was on his way, I suggested she
come here instead,” I lie. I do plan to call her mom, but not
until Starling is settled and the doctor’s done all that he
needs to do.
“Where am I?” she asks frantically.
“My house, sweetheart, just stay calm and let the doctor
examine you.”
Turning to look at the doctor again, her brow furrows.
“You’re a doctor?” He nods and she glances at me warily,
before turning back to him. “He’s kidnapped me, please
help me.”
Dr. Harris turns his head and eyes me cautiously before
looking back to Starling. “Let me examine you first, fainting
can be scary and a little disorienting.”
Her eyes keep warily glancing at me, but she nods and
her body relaxes a little as she leans back into the
mountain of pale-blue-and-white cushions I picked out for
her.
Dr. Harris is quick and efficient as he checks Starling’s
pulse, takes her blood pressure, then shines a light into her
eyes to check her reactions. Draping his stethoscope
around his neck, he walks over to where his bag is sitting
on top of a console table and I quickly follow.
“Is she okay?” I ask quietly.
“Her pulse and blood pressure are a little elevated, but
not to a concerning level. What happened before she
fainted?”
“It’s taking her a little time to adjust to being my fiancée
and all that entails. We were having a heated discussion
when her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she
slumped down into the seat.”
“I see,” Dr. Harris says, his tone almost snippy. “How old
is she?”
“Sixteen.”
“Sebastian, I’ve been your family’s doctor for thirty
years, but I feel in good conscience that I need to remind
you that the legal age of consent in Florida is eighteen.
You’re young, in love and engaged, but if someone were to
report you…” he trails off and I smile reassuringly at him.
“I appreciate your concern, but I am more than aware
that Starling is younger than me. We’re taking things
slowly on that front and I have no intention of
compromising either her or myself. Right now, I’m more
concerned about her immediate health. Will she be okay?
Does she need bed rest, more tests?”
 “She needs to rest tonight, but she should be fine in the
morning. Her mother is on her way over?”
“Yes,” I lie, not allowing any doubt to cross my
expression. “Perhaps you could administer a mild sedative
to make her more comfortable for the night?” I suggest,
forcefully.
His eyes widen a little and I can sense a hint of
reluctance, but in the end he nods. “That might be a good
idea, a restful night’s sleep can do wonders.”
“She can’t swallow tablets, perhaps you have something
that could dissolve in water so she can drink it?”
This time his reluctance is more obvious and he starts to
shake his head, but I speak before he can say anything to
piss me off, like tell me no. “How is your granddaughter
Amelia? Is she still hoping to attend GAA next year?”
Heat fills his cheeks, but he nods. “Yes, she’s hoping to
get a partial scholarship.”
“A partial scholarship? Wouldn’t she be better applying
for the Hayes Millard award, that’s a full scholarship for all
four years. Do you remember my friend Clay Janson? His
mom is the one in charge of picking the recipient, I’m sure
I could ask her to have a second look at Amelia’s
application, ensure she’s aware of how splendid a choice
she’d be for GAA.”
This is complete coercion. I know it and so does he, but
we both know that a full scholarship is worth tens of
thousands of dollars, and that kind of motivation is enough
to have him walk into the bathroom, fill a glass with water
and add a sachet of white powder that instantly dissolves.
With a smile I take the glass from him and cross the
room to Starling, sitting down beside her and handing her
the glass. “Here you go, little bird. The doctor says you’re
fine, but that you need a good night’s sleep. Drink this and
then lie down and take a nap until your mom gets here.”
Starling looks dubiously from me to the doctor. When he
smiles and nods at her, she lifts the glass to her lips and
takes a deep pull. She goes to put the glass down on the
nightstand, but I push it back into her hand. “You should
drink that, you look a little flushed. Are you hungry? I can
go and get you something to eat.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine, I’ll have something to
eat when I get home.”
I don’t agree or disagree, instead I nod my head toward
the glass in her hand and watch as she brings it to her lips
and drinks the rest of it. Smiling, I take the glass from her
and place it on the nightstand beside me, then I lift my
hand and slowly and carefully smooth my fingers over her
hair. “Why don’t you lie down and close your eyes. Dr.
Harris will stay with you while I go and keep a look out for
your mom.”
Warily she nods, shuffling down the bed a little and
exhaling into the cushions as I stand up and move away.
The farther away from her I get, the more she relaxes. I
fucking hate it, but I don’t want to risk her passing out
again if she gets too riled up.
“Could you stay with her for a little while? I want to get
her a sandwich in case she gets hungry.”
Dr. Harris nods, then busies himself packing up his
supplies into his bag as I step to the door and move out of
the room.
“How is she?” Hunter asks as I close the door quietly
behind me.
“She’s fine, the doctor gave her a sedative to help her
sleep.”
My friends all fall in step with me as I stride away from
Starling’s room and head downstairs to my father’s office.
The door’s closed when I reach it and I lift my fist and
knock, waiting for my father’s voice to invite me in.
“Come,” he booms.
Pushing open the door, I step into the room, Clay, Evan
and Hunter trailing behind me.
 “Sebastian, how did it go? Can we meet her? Your
mother is very excited,” he says, standing from his seat
behind his desk and moving toward me.
“She’s okay, she fainted in the car on the way over here,
so Dr. Harris is just checking her over. He suggested it
might be a good time to fit her nano.”
Dad’s smile broadens. “Good thinking, saves him having
to visit again. I have hers in the safe, let me just get it for
you,” he says, pushing a large picture on the wall to one
side and revealing a modern-looking safe.
Typing in the code, the safe beeps a moment before the
door springs open. I don’t know exactly all that’s inside, but
I can guess. Probably some deeds, confidential documents
pertaining to some of his more lucrative business deals and
a pile of cash, just in case we need it. There’s also a stack
of nano tracking devices. We all have one, me and my
friends, our parents too, this is just a part of being one of
us, and now Starling will too.
Dad offers the small black case out to me and I smile,
taking it from him and gripping it tightly. “Thanks, I’ll take
this up to the doc. Starling’s mother Cassidy will be here
shortly, perhaps you should gather all the parents so she
can meet everyone in one go,” I suggest.
Dad’s eyes light up and he smiles widely. “I’ll go and tell
your mother, she’ll be so excited.” My dad’s a great guy,
he’s not what I’d consider your classic, powerful, rich dude.
In fact, in person he appears to be the opposite of the
stereotype he’s usually cast in. He’s warm, friendly,
inclusive and a great dad. He’s also ruthless, incredibly
intelligent and morally ambiguous when he needs to be.
The apple didn’t fall that far from the tree, I’m just like
him. That’s why I don’t have even a moment of doubt as I
head back up the stairs and into Starling’s room.
My eyes search her out the moment I enter the space.
She’s on the bed, her eyes closed, her chest moving up and
down in a rhythmic pattern. In sleep she’s almost as
stunning as she is in motion, and I sit beside her on the bed
and brush the hair that’s fallen over her face back behind
her ear.
“Our parents think this might be a good time to get her
nano in place,” I tell the doctor, holding out the black case
in my hands in his direction.
“But she’s asleep,” he says suspiciously.
“Then she won’t feel any pain, will she?” I tell him with a
smile.
“Her mother agrees with your parents about this?” he
asks, his tone dubious.
“We all just want to keep her safe,” I say, avoiding his
question. “You understand the pressure of being who we
are.”
Sighing, he nods then takes the case and places it onto
the mattress beside me. Opening the lid, he pulls on a pair
of latex gloves, lifts out the sealed sterile syringe and
removes the packaging. “Same place as you have yours?”
he asks.
I nod, pulling her hair up off her neck and moving to the
side as Dr. Harris steps closer to her. He wipes a patch of
skin right at the base of her hairline with an alcohol wipe,
before bringing the syringe to her skin and carefully
inserting the needle into her. She grimaces a little in her
sleep, but doesn’t wake as he depresses the plunger and
the nano is planted beneath her skin.
Carefully, he pulls the needle from her neck and then
puts the syringe, wipe and glove into a disposable waste
box he has in his bag. Returning to the bed, he picks up the
scanner from the box, turns it on and runs it over her neck.
When the scanner beeps, he turns it in my direction,
showing me the screen that confirms the chip is active and
working.
“Thank you, Dr. Harris,” I tell him. “Please make sure
you send your bill to my father’s secretary and wish Amelia
good luck with her scholarship application.”
 The older man smiles, then packs up his bag and leaves
without another word.
Smiling down at my beautiful little bird, I run my finger
over the patch of skin on her neck, feeling the tracking chip
that’s barely the size of a single grain of rice. We were all
fitted with one when a plot was discovered to kidnap me,
Clay, Evan and Hunter when we were ten.
Our families are rich and powerful, a combination that
attracts those who seek to take advantage of what they
thought were our parents’ weak links. The one beneath my
skin has never been activated, it’s only there in case of an
emergency. Little Bird is mine and the nano in her neck will
ensure that even though she might think she can fly free,
she’ll always be tethered to me. I’m her gilded cage, the
lock and the key all at once and no matter how far she tries
to run, she’ll never be able to hide.
I sit with her for a while, stroking her hair and watching
as her chest moves up and down as she breathes.
Eventually, I reluctantly get up and leave, pulling the door
to her room closed behind me as I step into the hallway.
Taking my cell from my pocket, I dial her mother’s cell
number that Clay gave me as part of the information he’d
found out about her.
“Hello,” Cassidy answers.
“Ms. Clark, my name is Sebastian Lockwood, I’m
Starling’s boyfriend, we met earlier.”
“Her boyfriend?” Cassidy says, laughter lacing her
voice. “I thought you said you needed to speak to her about
an assignment?”
“I’m sorry about the subterfuge, ma’am, Starling wanted
to wait until tonight to introduce me. I’m calling because
she passed out earlier and”
“She what?” she interrupts. “Is she okay? Where is she?
What hospital?”
“She’s fine, she’s not at the hospital, she’s at my house.
I’ve just texted you the address. Our family doctor was here
so he checked her over, and he says she’s absolutely fine.
He said it was more than likely exhaustion, which is
probably from all the shifts she worked at the diner
recently.”
“She works too much, I told her she works too much,”
Cassidy mumbles, her voice cracking.
“I agree, which is why she quit her job tonight.”
“Good,” she agrees.
“I think so too.”
“I’ll come and get her. Thank you for calling, Sebastian.”
“She’s sleeping and honestly I think it might be better
just to let her get a good night’s rest.”
“Sebastian, I don’t know you, or your family, hell,
tonight’s the first thing I’ve heard about my daughter
having a boyfriend. I’m not going”
“Ms. Clark,” I interrupt her tirade. “I was only going to
suggest you bring an overnight bag and stay here too, so
we don’t have to wake her.”
“Oh,” Cassidy gasps.
“There’s plenty of room and my parents would love to
meet you.”
“Your parents? What did you say your last name was?”
“Lockwood, ma’am.”
There’s silence on her end of the call and I smile,
knowing she recognizes who my family is.
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“There’s no imposition. Starling’s asleep and with how
tired she was, I’m sure you’d agree it’s best not to wake
her if we don’t have to. Since we haven’t gotten to know
each other yet, it would be best all around if you just stay
here tonight, that way if we need to call the doctor again,
he can come straight over.”
She pauses again, but I know I’ve got her. She has no
idea that I’m manipulating her, and that’s just the way I
want it. Starling is mine and regardless of what her mother
thinks, nothing will change that, but if I can get Cassidy to
agree to my way of thinking, it’ll make it so much easier to
get Starling to agree to the things I want too.
“If your parents are sure.”
“They are, I want to get back and check on Starling, so
I’ll see you when you get here, just buzz the gate and
someone will let you straight in.”
“Okay, I’ll see you soon, Sebastian.”
Ending the call, I slide my cell into my pocket and head
back into Starling’s room. I know Clay, Evan and Hunter
are somewhere in the house, but I don’t want them in here
with her when she’s like this.
Her eyes are closed, and her hair is pulled to the side
revealing her slender neck. My dick twitches in my pants,
but I ignore it. As much as I wish I could strip her naked
and slide under the covers with her, I won’t, at least not
right now. She’s mine, and I’ll be the one and only man to
ever get my dick inside of her, but not tonight.
Her brow furrows and I reach out and run my finger
over it, smoothing it as I try to imagine what she’s
dreaming about. I’ve no idea what haunts her sleeping
thoughts, but I will. Soon I’ll know her so well I’ll be able to
know what she’s thinking before she speaks.
I know the way I feel about her isn’t normal, she’s
consumed me completely since I first laid eyes on her.
She’s my obsession, but surely obsession is just the basis
that love is built on? I’m not in love with her yet, I don’t
know her well enough, but soon that’ll change. Soon I’ll be
the reason she smiles, the reason her panties are damp, the
reason she can’t wait to wake up every morning.
She’s my obsession, but I’m going to make myself her
world. I’ll protect her from everything but me.
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I turn on the camera
and take a photo, then switch it to video mode and record a
few moments of her sleeping peacefully, then of me
brushing the hair from her cheek, my hand trailing a path
down her neck. “My perfect little bird,” I whisper, ending
the recording and sliding my cell into my pocket without
watching it. That will be my reward later when I’m lying in
bed next door, only a wall separating us. I’ll watch the
video while I take my dick in hand and wish it were her
fingers instead of my own wrapped around it and covered
in cum when I find my release.
A knock at the door banishes my filthy thoughts and I
get up and cross the room, opening the door and peering
around the frame.
“Sebastian darling, Starling’s mother is here,” my mom
says, smiling widely.
“Ms. Clark,” I say, greeting her with my most charming
smile as I push the door open wide and step back to allow
them entry into the room.
Cassidy Clark is only slightly taller than Starling is and
she has to tip her head back to look up at me.
“It’s lovely to meet you properly, I’m just sorry it has to
be under these circumstances,” I tell her, crossing the room
and sitting down on the edge of the bed beside my girl.
Cassidy rushes to Starling, leaning down and running
her palms over her daughter’s face. “Oh, baby,” she croons.
“Dr. Harris said she was fine, just tired,” I tell her again,
glancing up and smiling at my mom, who is still standing
beside the door. “We’d planned to do a whole meet-the-
parents thing tonight,” I say with an ah-shucks smile and
then watch as both my mom and Starling’s mom visibly
sigh at just how adorable and cute I am.
I don’t normally enjoy manipulating my mom, but right
now I need her to be completely on board with the whole
Starling situation. My parents know she’s mine, I told them
about her, I just never mentioned that I hadn’t told Starling
at that point. Not that it matters now. I hate that she
fainted, even more so because I’m ninety percent sure it
happened because she was freaked out and a little scared
of me.
 But ultimately, I wanted her here in my house and here
she is. I wanted my parents and her mom to understand
how serious I was about her, now they do. I wanted to
capture and cage her and make her mine, and now she is.
“Ms. Clark, I hope you’ll help me convince Starling that
she doesn’t need to look for another job. GAA is a serious
school and if she tries to work and keep up with her
homework and studying, I’m worried she’s going to make
herself even more sick than just fainting from exhaustion.”
I pause, then offer Cassidy a sad, understanding smile. “I
know she wants to help out and that money is an issue,
but…” I trail off, waiting for Cassidy to fill the silence.
“I don’t need her to help out with money, I’ve told her
this a hundred times. I’m not sure what she’s told you
about my job, but I’m an author, I write thrillers and with
publishing there are peaks and troughs in sales. Starling
panics, but she really doesn’t need to.”
I nod, agreeing with her, even though I know she’s lying.
I’m completely apprised of Starling’s family’s financial
situation. The money Starling was earning was paying the
bills her mother’s royalties weren’t covering, but that stops
now. I want all of her spare time and so her mother will
have to make alternate plans to cover the loss of Starling’s
income.
“She’s so still. Normally she’s a light sleeper.”
“Poor dear, she must have been exhausted. Let’s leave
her to sleep and we can get you set up in a guest room,
Cassidy,” My mom suggests.
“I should just take her home,” Cassidy starts.
“Nonsense, what’s the point of having guest rooms if
people don’t use them?” Mom says, waving away Cassidy’s
concerns and ushering her out of the room and down the
hallway to the spare room on the other side. “Sebastian,
dinner’s going to be ready in ten minutes, the boys are all
downstairs in the den, leave Starling to sleep, you can
check on her later.”
 “Cassidy, let’s get you settled and then I’ll introduce you
to my husband and our good friends and neighbors who
happen to be the parents of Sebastian and Starling’s
friends.”
Mom’s voice trails off as she leads Cassidy away and I
smile to myself, then down at the girl on the bed beside me.
I’ve waited a year for this moment, and now she’s here in
my house, in the room I had decorated just for her, my little
bird is finally mine, and I can’t wait to make sure the rest of
the world knows it too.

OceanofPDF.com
 7

STARLING

“T ime to wake up, little bird,” a low, somewhat familiar

voice says, dragging me from sleep.
Blinking my eyes, I stare up at an unfamiliar high
ceiling, a modern chandelier hanging from the center. The
bed moves beside me and I jolt all the way awake, snapping
my head to the side and finding a very smug-looking
Sebastian smiling down at me.
“Where am I?” I ask, my voice shrill.
“My house.”
“What? Why? Oh my god, what time is it? My mom is
going to kill me,” I blurt, speaking so fast I can barely
understand myself.
“Calm down, little bird, your mom is here, remember?
She’s downstairs drinking coffee with my parents.”
“Am I dead?” I blurt.
His laugh is loud and warm, the audible equivalent of a
mug of hot cocoa on a cold day. “No, baby, you’re not
dead.”
“I must be, there’s no way in real life I’d be in bed, in
your house while my mom is downstairs having coffee with
your parents. Oh god, this isn’t your bed, is it?” I gasp.
“No, this isn’t my bed, the first time I get you in my bed,
I want to be in it with you and for you to be fully
conscious.” He smirks.
 “Why am I here? What happened? Why is my neck
sore?” I demand, anger bleeding into my words, now that
the initial shock has started to wear off.
“What do you remember about last night? Dr. Harris
never mentioned you’d have any issues with your memory.”
A barrage of memories hits me as I think back on
everything that happened after I got to work. “You got me
fired, and you were spouting all this bullshit about me
belonging to the freaking Elite.”
“You belong to me,” he snarls, then smooths out his
expression and smiles again. “But you’re part of The Elite
now, and if you’re working every night, when will we get a
chance to see each other? I’d assume your neck hurts
because you slumped over in the back of the car when you
passed out, and I didn’t want to risk your safety by
removing your seat belt to put you in a more comfortable
position,” he says simply, taking my hand in his and twining
our fingers together.
I try to yank my hand free, but he just tightens his grip,
refusing to allow me. “I don’t want to see you, I don’t know
you,” I shout, feeling a pulsing headache building at the
back of my head.
Strong hands curl around my waist and then I’m being
lifted from beneath the covers and lowered down into
Sebastian’s lap. “Shhhh, little bird, it’s okay. It’s all going to
be okay. I know this feels like a lot right now, but this is all
meant to be. The moment I saw you for the first time last
year, I knew you were mine, but you were a freshman and
completely off-limits. I’ve stayed away, but I can’t do that
anymore. I’m going to take such good care of you, I
promise. I’m obsessed with you, my little bird; I’d give you
the entire world to make you happy.”
I don’t mean to, but for a moment I rest my cheek on the
fabric of his blazer and let him soothe me. I shouldn’t be
calming down right now, but somehow the smooth timbre
of his voice and the sweet, terrifyingly overwhelming words
he’s saying calm my erratically beating heart, and I feel my
tense muscles start to relax against him.
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Why do you keep calling me little bird?”
His hand curves up my spine and beneath my hair,
resting against my neck and rubbing soft fingers over the
skin. “Because your name is Starling, and because you’re
beautiful and wild like a bird, and because I want to clip
your wings and tie you to me almost as much as I want to
watch you soar.”
His honesty is almost as disconcerting as his regal
beauty. The things he’s saying are making goose bumps
prickle along my skin and a cold chill waft over me. But no
matter how much I know I should be running from him,
there’s a lethargy in my muscles that won’t let my natural
flight instinct kick in. I should be fighting free of his
disarming hold, but instead I’m sitting placidly in his lap,
like this is where I want to be.
Confusion over my reaction to him consumes me. Boys
have never really been on my radar. Of course I’ve had
crushes, but they’ve all been unrequited and unmentioned.
The middle school Courtney and I attended was in North
Acres but even at the ages of nine and ten, the kids in my
grade knew my house was smaller than theirs, my clothes
were from Target not Ralph Lauren, and my summers were
spent in Maine, not Mauritius. Nothing in my life so far has
prepared me for Sebastian Lockwood. He looks like a man,
sounds much older than his years and is so far out of my
depth I’m already drowning, and only my toes are in the
water.
“What time is it? I need to go home and get ready for
school,” I say, forcing my arms to life and pushing away
from his chest, struggling to free myself from his hold.
“Relax,” he coos, curling his hand around my ribs and
stroking the underside of my boob with his thumb.
 I freeze beneath his touch. “It’s a little after seven. Your
uniform is washed and pressed and your mom brought you
some underwear last night.”
His thumb lifts a little higher. “There’s the shampoo,
conditioner and body wash you like in the shower, but if
you’re still feeling unwell, I’m sure your mom wouldn’t
mind calling in for you.”
At the first swipe across my nipple I feel myself go
completely tense, it’s barely second base, but it’s the most
provocative way I’ve ever been touched by a boy.
“We could spend the day relaxing and getting to know
each other better,” he suggests as he cups the weight of my
breast in his hand.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I blurt, trying to release
myself from his hold.
“I’m not trying to have sex with you,” he says as he
pinches my nipple between his finger and thumb.
“Oww,” I gasp, reaching for his hand to push him away.
Grabbing first one wrist, then the other, he clamps them
at my sides with the arm that’s now banded painfully
tightly around my waist. “I’m going to fuck you, Starling,
soon, but not today,” he warns, pushing the nightshirt I’m
wearing up my thighs, revealing my panties as he works his
hand back to my breast, caressing it lightly, then pinching
my nipple again, twisting it and plucking at it.
“Stop, you’re hurting me,” I cry, wiggling in his lap in an
effort to evade him.
“The wet patch on the front of your panties disagrees,
little bird,” he mocks, alternating between pinching my
nipple and soothing it.
“Imagine how good it’ll feel when I’m sucking your pink
little nipples between my teeth, a hint of pain to create
limitless pleasure.” His voice is sex incarnate and I close
my eyes as heat pools between my thighs.
Releasing my breast he pushes his palm between my
legs, rubbing my pussy with the heel of his hand through
the fabric of my panties. I don’t need to look to know that
the fabric is damp and sticking to my folds.
“I love knowing your panties are wet because of me, I
might jack off into a pair for you to wear to school.”
My brows lift so high I swear they almost jump all the
way off my face, and my shocked gasp is so loud it seems to
fill the empty air.
“Which is the shocking part, baby? That I know how wet
I’m making you or that I want your hot little virgin pussy
soaked in my cum all day?”
“Both,” I croak.
Cupping my cheek, he leans into me. “This virgin cunt’s
mine, little bird, your sexy legs are mine, your perky little
tits are mine. Your tight asshole and hot mouth are mine.
You belong to me and make no mistake, soon I’ll be coating
my dick in your blood as I break through your barrier and
coat you with my cum. You should get used to wearing wet
panties, Starling, because once I get inside of you, you’ll be
taking all of my cum. I won’t jerk off unless it’s over your
tits, pussy or ass. I’ll save it all up and you’ll take it all
while you scream my name and beg for more.”
With each dirty word that slips from his mouth he grinds
his hand against my clit, arousing me more and more as he
works my clit until I’m pushing into his touch, my breath
becoming ragged.
“That’s it, baby, let go. I want to hear you come for me,”
he coaxes, pressing down a little harder against me until
I’m writhing and panting. When I come, it’s with a startled
cry that falls from my dry lips and seems to ricochet around
the room.
I shudder as waves of pleasure roll through me. “Good
girl, you’re so fucking beautiful. Lift your butt,” he directs
me.
Doing as he asks, I lift up and he slides my underwear
over my hips, pulling them down my legs and off my ankles.
“What…?” I question as he balls them in his hand and then
lifts them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
“You smell delicious.”
Before I have a chance to protest, his lips are against
mine and he kisses me, sliding his tongue between my lips
and exploring my mouth. His kiss is elegantly forceful with
single-minded intent. “My pretty little bird,” he whispers
against my lips as he pulls back.
“Sebastian.”
“Bastian, my friends call me Bastian.”
“We’re not friends,” I pant shakily.
“No, we’re so much more. Go take a shower, before I
spread your legs and shove my cock inside you. I’ll come
back and take you down for breakfast once you’re dressed.”
When he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him,
I jump up from the bed and slide the lock into place, resting
my back against the wood and exhaling shakily. Bastian is
intense. His presence sucks all of the air from the room,
until all I can see and focus on is him. The orgasm he gave
me is nothing like the ones I’ve given myself. If that’s the
way it feels when one of The Elite touches you, it suddenly
makes sense why the girls at school will literally do
anything to get a moment of their attention.
When he calls me little bird, goose bumps pebble over
my skin, but I’m not sure if that’s because I like it, or
because he scares the hell out of me. Maybe both. He
wants to fuck me. It’s not like I’ve never thought about sex,
of course I have. I’m sixteen, I have fantasies and I’ve
explored my own body to see what feels good, but I have
zero real-world experience.
I don’t even know if I find Bastian attractive. Who am I
kidding? He’s gorgeous, but he’s also high handed,
obnoxious, terrifying and an Elite. That’s not me. I’m not
motivated by power or popularity. I would rather be
invisible than be one of them, but I doubt that’s something
he could ever understand. When you look like he does, with
a name like Lockwood, invisibility isn’t an option.
The door to the bathroom is ajar and I pad over to it on
bare feet, realizing that at some point someone changed me
out of my diner uniform and into the soft nightshirt I’m
wearing. I’m really hoping it was my mom, the shirt looks
vaguely familiar so I think it’s one of hers.
White tile and black marble fittings assault my eyes
when I step into the palatial room. It’s huge, bigger than
my bedroom at home, and so fancy if I didn’t know I was in
his house I’d assume I was at an expensive hotel. A claw-
foot tub calls to me, but I don’t have time for a soak, no
matter how much I wish I did. If my mom really is
downstairs, like he said she was, then I need to get to her
and get away from this house and the crazy boy who lives
here as quickly as possible.
Stripping out of the sleep shirt and my underwear, I step
into the shower and search for the controls, only there
aren’t any. It takes me far longer than it should to figure
out the water is controlled by a touch screen and once I
make it work, the jets are like getting an hour-long
massage in an instant.
I linger beneath the water for longer than I should, but
the comforting heat combined with all my favorite products
makes me want to indulge, even though I shouldn’t. Once
I’m done, I wrap myself in the softest, fluffiest towel I’ve
ever touched and step back into the bedroom.
Now that I’m fully awake I take a moment to look
around. The walls are painted an off-white, except for the
one behind the bed that’s covered in patterned wallpaper.
The bed is massive and made of dark wood and there’re
matching nightstands on either side. All of the soft
furnishings are a mix of blues with the odd hint of gold
dotted here and there. It’s beautiful and incredibly classy,
like it was put together by a designer—which it probably
was.
 I search the floor for my backpack, hoping that my
uniform isn’t too creased from where I folded it into my bag
last night after I got changed at the diner. There’s a door
next to the bathroom that I’m assuming leads to a closet, so
I open it and find my backpack on the floor and my uniform
hanging on the rod. There’s a second bag beside the first
and I recognize it as mine.
Shock hits me and I stumble back from the force. My
mom is here, she stayed here last night, she’s having coffee
with Bastian’s parents downstairs right now. What the hell
did he tell her to have her agree to all this? I’ve never
mentioned him to her, we’re not friends, I’d never even
spoken to him myself before yesterday. But he must have
told her something that convinced her to believe him, or
else she wouldn’t be here and she wouldn’t have allowed
me to stay here either. I wonder if he’s told her the things
he’s been saying to me? That I’m his, that we’re together, a
real couple.
Rushing to get ready, I pull on fresh underwear from the
bag Mom must have brought for me and quickly dress in
my uniform. My hair is too long and too wet to leave loose,
so I brush it quickly then twist it into two thick braids that
sit flat to my head on either side, trailing down over my
shoulders to the middle of my back.
I never usually wear makeup but right now I wish I did,
because I could do with something to help give me a little
armor against whatever I’m going to find when I go
downstairs. I’ve never found myself in such a fucked-up
position before, but as a general rule I always think honesty
is the best policy. But how the hell would I even start to
explain this? I doubt either his parents or my mom would
appreciate me screaming that Bastian is infatuated with me
and thinks this gives him some moronic claim on me. It
sounds insane even to my own ears.
Smoothing my hands down the front of my blazer, I pull
in a deep breath and glance around the room. I quickly give
up hope on finding a portal back to my house or an excuse
so that I can abandon my mom and leave without having to
go downstairs and face whatever the hell is happening
down there. My eyes snag on the pictures on the wallpaper.
Stepping closer, I lift my hand and trail my fingers across
the images. It’s a tiny pale-brown bird—a starling in a
beautiful, ornate gold cage.
A shudder runs through me. It’s a coincidence, it has to
be, but the imagery still disturbs me. He calls me little bird.
He says I’m his. He said he wanted me in his house and
here I am, in his home, in a room with caged birds all over
the walls.
I need to leave. The best thing I can do is to go
downstairs, find my mom and get us out of here as quickly
as possible, then do whatever I have to do to avoid Bastian
until he forgets all about me.
Nodding to myself, I slide my feet into my shoes, remake
the bed, pick up my bags and unlock the bedroom door.
Pushing it open, I step into a hallway and glance from left
to right. To the left, there’re two doors, one on either side
of the hall, to the right, two more doors. Stepping
cautiously out, I strain, listening for some clue that might
guide me to my mom, but the house is silent.
Cautiously, I walk to the right and find myself at the top
of a movieworthy double staircase that curves around,
ending in a marble foyer at its base. My steps sound loud
once I descend, but I’m still none the wiser as to where I
need to go.
“Starling, sweetheart,” a female voice calls, and I turn to
find a beautiful woman striding toward me. She’s dressed
casually, in jeans and a sweater, but everything about her
screams money, from the diamond earrings in her ears to
the way her hair sits just so, the natural-blonde color
accentuated with artfully applied highlights.
“Hi,” I wave awkwardly.
 “How are you feeling? You shouldn’t have carried those
bags down, one of the boys would have gotten them for
you. You must be starving, let’s get you something to eat.”
“Er,” I mumble.
“Oh, where are my manners,” she laughs. “I’m Miranda,
Bastian’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lockwood, I wasn’t sure…” I
trail off, not sure what to say. “I’m so sorry we’ve invaded
your home, which is beautiful by the way. Sebastian should
have taken me home.”
“Nonsense,” she chides, dropping her arm around me
affectionately. “He did the absolute right thing bringing you
here. Dr. Harris was on a call just a few houses down and
he rushed right over to check you last night, if he’d have
taken you home you’d have had to go to the ER. Drop your
bags and let’s get you something to eat. Chef made
croissants this morning and they’re to die for.”
Before I get a chance to protest, or suggest I just find
my mom and go, my bags are out of my hands and she’s
herding me down a hallway and into a bright, airy dining
room that’s full of people.
Sebastian is out of his chair and at my side in an instant,
pulling me from his mom and into his arms as his lips
descend to mine. He kisses me like there’s no one else in
the room and when he finally lets me go and leans back, my
lips feel kiss swollen and I’m shell-shocked. “Little bird, I
was just coming up to fetch you.” The way he uses the
nickname he’s given me like an endearment confuses me,
then frightens me when I think about all the gilded cages
on the wall upstairs.
“Let me introduce you to everyone, then you need to
eat,” he tells me warmly, curling his arm around my back
and pulling me into his side as he turns us to look at the
curious faces sitting at the table. “Obviously you already
know Evan, Clay and Hunter. Then this is my dad, Richard,
beside him is Clay’s mom Heather and his dad Eric.
Hunter’s dad Vance, his mom Mary, and then beside your
mom is Evan’s dad Harry.”
I smile politely, offering them all an awkward wave as
Sebastian leads me to the chair beside my mom and pulls it
out for me. Waiting for me to sit, before he takes the seat
beside me, he immediately starts to play with the bottom of
one of my braids, lifting it to his face and rubbing the end
over his lips.
“Honey, how are you feeling? You were dead to the
world last night when I got here. I’m so glad you’ve quit
your job, look what happens to you when you allow yourself
to get so exhausted,” my mom chides, not saying a thing
about the fact that the guy beside me just kissed me
senseless, or that we’re in his house eating breakfast with
his family right now.
“I didn’t quit, Sebastian got me fired,” I snap a little too
loudly.
Mom tuts and purses her lips. “He was worried about
you, honey, and I agree, you work too hard and with you
being a sophomore now, you need to focus on your studies.”
My mouth falls open and I turn from her to glare at
Sebastian. He’s smirking at me and I feel instantly
aggravated. “Mom, we should get going, Courtney’s
picking me up this morning.”
Dropping my braid, Sebastian places his hand on my
thigh and squeezes. “She’s already been informed you don’t
need a ride this morning.”
“What do you mean?” I ask slowly.
“I’m taking you to school.”
“I don’t need you to take me, I get a ride with my
friend.”
Leaning in, he presses his lips to my ear. “From now on,
I’m taking you to school and bringing you home afterward.
Your friend has been advised.”
“What if I don’t want to ride with you?” I whisper.
 “You misunderstand me, little bird. I’m not asking you,
I’m telling you.” Pulling back, he presses a kiss to my cheek
and then lifts the empty plate from in front of me. “What
would you like for breakfast?”
I want to rail at him, to tell him to go fuck himself but
we’re not alone, we’re in a room full of my mom, his
parents and all of his friends’ parents too, so I bite the
inside of my cheek and swallow my words.
“Try the French toast, honey, it’s unbelievable,” Mom
gushes.
I open my mouth to suggest it was probably about time
we left, when her attention is pulled away by the man
sitting on her other side. Sebastian mentioned it was
Evan’s dad, but I wouldn’t have needed to be told that
because he’s very clearly an older version of his son.
Laughter lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes, but he’s
still handsome, even though his hair is peppered with
grays. Within seconds of him engaging my mom in
conversation, both of them are laughing and talking
animatedly while I look on. My mom is an introvert, she’s a
writer who is happier living in the fantasy world she brings
to life on paper than in the real world that’s going on
around her. When she’s forced to interact with humans
other than me, she’s normally quiet and awkward, but right
now she’s bright and vivacious and fitting right in with the
other adults in the room.
I want to ask her what the hell is going on right now, but
instead I take the plate of French toast Sebastian has made
for me and thank him when he hands me a cup of coffee
made just the way I like. I should ask him how he knows,
but I’m starting to understand that he’s taken the time to
find out. I wonder what else he knows about me, or more
appropriately, if there’s anything he doesn’t know.
“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Starling, we’ve heard
so much about you,” Mr. Lockwood says.
 Almost choking on the bite of toast I’m eating, I try to
force a smile to my lips but it comes out as more of a
grimace.
“Dad, you’re embarrassing her,” Sebastian smirks,
resting his arm on the back of my seat, watching me eat
while he sips at a glass of juice.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it’s just that Bastian’s never
brought a girlfriend home to meet us before. You must be
very special and I’m excited to get to know you and your
mom better.”
“Cassidy, we’re having a girls’ night on Saturday, you
must come with us,” Mrs. Lockwood says excitedly.
I expect my mom to turn her down and when she parts
her lips, I anticipate her awkward excuse, but instead she
smiles. “Oh a girls’ night sounds wonderful, I’ve been so
busy finishing my most recent novel it feels like I’ve barely
left the house in a year,” Mom laughs. “I tend to get a little
absorbed in my work.”
“I’m guilty of getting a little consumed with things I’m
passionate about too,” Evan’s dad says flirtily.
Oh my god, Evan Morris’s dad is flirting with my mom.
I’ve heard of Morris enterprises, the company Evan’s family
owns, I doubt there’s anyone in the state who hasn’t, but
I’ve no idea what the company does, or where Evan’s mom
is. What I do know is that my mom has no business flirting
with a man like Mr. Morris, just like I have no business
playing these weird games with Sebastian. These people
are out of my and my mom’s league and the sooner we can
get away from them, the better.
I open my mouth to suggest an excuse to extricate us
both from this house, but a loud whistle from the other side
of the table has me snapping my lips back together.
“Time to go,” Hunter says, pushing up from his chair
while Clay and Evan follow suit.
“Come on, little bird, we don’t want to be late,”
Sebastian drawls, taking my hand and tugging me up.
 “I should—”
“Thank you so much for allowing Starling to stay here
last night, Ms. Clarke,” Sebastian says to my mother,
preventing me again from trying to encourage my mom to
leave.
“Sebastian, please call me Cassidy. I’m happy to know
Starling has found a boy who takes such good care of her.
Miranda, Richard, your son is an absolute credit to you.”
Sebastian’s parents preen under my mom’s praise of
him and I roll my eyes. I wonder how they’d feel about him
if they knew he’d announced I was his the very first time I
met him, got me fired from my job by threatening my boss
and then coerced me to get into his car with threats and
manipulation.
“Baby, we’re going to be late,” he croons, wrapping his
arm around my waist and guiding me out of the room, his
grip firm and unyielding.
The good boy grin he’s been using on my mom and his
parents morphs into a conniving smirk the moment we’re
out of the dining room, but his hold doesn’t loosen as he
frog marches me down a hallway and into a garage filled
with at least a dozen cars.
“I’m not getting in that car again,” I snap, spotting the
Mercedes I was herded into last night parked in the space
closest to the shutter doors.
Sebastian laughs and after a moment, the others, who I
hadn’t noticed were beside the car, join in. The sound of the
four cruel boys mocking me is chilling and a slight tremor
runs along my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
“How are you planning on getting away, little bird?” he
taunts. “Are you going to run? Scream? Fight?”
“Which option will get you to leave me alone?” I ask, my
voice shaking and betraying the strength I want him to
hear.
He laughs again, then moves so fast I don’t have a
chance to contemplate running before I’m off the ground
and hanging upside down over his shoulder.
“Let me go,” I shriek, pounding my fists against his
back.
“Bro, eventually she’s going to have access to your dick,
women have long memories, just saying,” Clay chuckles.
“She likes it really. Open the door, asshole,” Sebastian
orders.
I’m swung the right way up and placed surprisingly
carefully into the back seat, Hunter beside me, Sebastian
blocking the other side while Clay drives and Evan takes
the passenger seat.
“You’re all assholes,” I hiss, crossing my arms over my
chest and trying to find enough space to not be touching
either of the guys keeping me prisoner in the back seat.
“We’re actually pretty nice once you get to know us,”
Hunter says from beside me, his voice soft and kind.
“I don’t want to know you. You guys have your whole
Elite thing going on and I just want to keep my head down
and get through this year, then next year I’ll be gone.”
“Gone where?” Sebastian growls.
“Public school.”
“No.”
I laugh. “Okay, oh lord and master, you said no so the
whole world must obey. What does it matter anyway? You
guys will be at college next year.”
“I’m not having my girl at that hellhole of a school in
South Acres. You’ll stay at GAA.” His brows are furrowed
and his tone and expression are so serious that I feel myself
soften a little toward him. Poor little rich boy, he literally
has no idea about how the real world works.
“I’m not your girl, Sebastian, and South Acres High isn’t
that bad. I’m a mediocre student at best, I was never
headed for an Ivy League, my aspirations are ambitiously
aimed at middle-of-the-road party schools.”
The guys seem to have a silent conversation, exchanging
glances that make me want to huff in annoyance at not
being included. But then I internally roll my eyes at myself.
I don’t want to be part of their little gang, and them having
private little discussions that don’t involve me is for the
best.
The ride to school from Sebastian’s house is much
shorter than it is from mine and before long, we’re pulling
into the school gates and Clay is parking in The Elite spots
right outside the doors. The groups of kids milling around
all stop and turn toward the car and I swallow down the
lump that’s formed in my throat.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I mumble.
“This is exactly where you should be,” Sebastian smiles,
sliding his hand over my thigh and squeezing.
“Everyone is going to see me getting out of this car with
you.”
“Good, I want them to.”
“I don’t,” I gasp.
Before I have a chance to formulate a good argument as
to why no one should see me with The Elite, Sebastian is
opening his door and climbing out. Turning, he reaches a
hand out to me, but I keep my arms folded firmly across my
chest.
Sebastian scowls, then looks past me. Hunter’s hands
circle my waist and he lifts me off the seat and sort of
throws me to Sebastian, who plucks me out of the car like I
weigh nothing at all.
“Please don’t do this,” I beg, but he ignores me, curling
his arm around my shoulders and clamping me to his side.
The other guys surround us, and I swear the noise of
kids and cars and life fades away and instead, everyone is
silently staring at us.
“Smile, little bird, we’re kings and we just made you a
queen.”
Closing my eyes, I force back the tears that are trying to
break free. This isn’t the moment to be weak. “I hate you,”
I whisper.
 Strong arms turn me until I’m face to face with an
angry-looking Sebastian. His fingers grab my chin and he
forces my head back so I can’t look away. Then he leans
down and kisses me, keeping me in place while he plunders
my mouth, his free hand grabbing my ass and showing
everyone who’s watching that I belong to him.
He keeps his hold on me when he pulls his lips from
mine. “Hate me all you want, it won’t make you any less
mine.”
This time my tears really do break free and his lips
purse as the first one rolls down my cheek. Releasing my
chin, he stops the tear with his finger, then sucks it into his
mouth. “I don’t want your tears, but for now if that’s all
you’ll give me, I’ll take them, because everything you are
belongs to me.”
The next ten minutes are a blur. Sebastian takes my
hand and forces me to stay by his side as he parades me
through the hallways, smiling and speaking to every single
curious student who worships at the stupid fucking Elites’
feet. He introduces me to everyone as his girlfriend and by
the time I’m at the door to my homeroom, I doubt there’s a
single person who doesn’t know we’re apparently a couple.
The only person I was hoping to see is Courtney and
she’s concerningly absent. I don’t know what Sebastian
said to her when he told her not to pick me up, but she’s
the only person here who knows that he and I are not really
a couple and I need her. I need someone who cares more
about me than they do about status and hierarchy, I need
my bestie.
By the end of first period, I’m ready to go home and hide
beneath my comforter. The blissful anonymity I had here is
officially gone. When Sebastian kissed me, he might as well
have put a target on my back because it seems every kid in
my class either witnessed him trying to eat me alive, or
knows someone who witnessed it. There’s even a video of it
on Instagram and TikTok. Great.
 People I’ve never spoken to want to be my friend, and
the kids who have refused to acknowledge my existence
since middle school suddenly want to reminisce about all
the good times we never had. I hate it and I hate Sebastian
for causing it.
I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve told people he’s
not my boyfriend, but they don’t want to hear it. What I
have to say doesn’t matter when the mighty Elite have
spoken. When lunchtime rolls around, I’m desperate to
escape to a quiet corner with Court and hide from all the
curious stares and jealous daggers.
Grabbing my backpack I rush to the door, eager to find
my friend, except Clay is leaning up against the wall
outside my classroom, a knowing smirk stretched across
his annoying mouth. “He said you’d try to hide.”
Ignoring him, I drag my bag onto my back and step past
him, but my forward movement is halted when he grabs
hold of the straps on my backpack and drags me backward.
“Come eat with us, you’ll only piss him off if he has to
hunt you down,” he warns, his voice friendly.
“I don’t want to have lunch with him, I want to eat with
my friend.”
“She can eat with us too. We don’t normally allow
outsiders in, but if you ask him, he’ll make an exception for
you.”
“Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know me. He’s
ruining my life,” I whisper-yell.
Rolling his eyes, he sighs. “Dramatic much?” Taking my
bag from my shoulders, he holds it in his hand and then
places his other palm high on my back and guides me away
from the classroom and all the people who are pretending
not to watch us.
“I was invisible, no one saw me and I liked it that way,” I
say petulantly.
“He saw you.”
 “Fucking great, I’m not invisible to stalkers, good to
know,” I hiss beneath my breath.
We round the corner and Sebastian is striding toward
us. His eyes narrow when he sees Clay has his hand on me.
“You touching my girl?” he growls angrily.
“Just making sure she’s where you told me to bring her.
Starling has something she wants to ask you,” Clay says,
moving his hand away from me as he passes my bag to
Sebastian.
“Is that right, little bird?” he purrs, stepping into my
personal space until our chests are touching.
“I want to eat with my friend.”
“She can sit with us.”
“Alone, I want to eat with my friend alone, like we
normally do.”
“No,” he says harshly, smashing his lips against mine
punishingly hard, dominating me with his touch, like he
thinks he can bend me to his will with a kiss.
“I’ll text Evan to find the friend,” Clay says from beside
us.
At the sound of his voice Sebastian relaxes his hold on
me, running a soft fingertip over my cheek.
Discombobulated, I stumble a little and Sebastian carefully
wraps his arm around my waist, his gentle touch in
complete opposition to the way he just punished me with
his kiss.
“I’ll text her, I just need to find my cell,” I say, reaching
for my backpack.
“I have your cell,” he smiles, pulling my old model cell
phone from his blazer and handing it to me.
“Why do you have my cell phone?” I demand.
“I charged it for you. I also programmed mine, Clay,
Evan and Hunter’s numbers in there too. That way if you
can’t reach me, you can contact them instead.”
“Why would I need to contact any of you?” I protest.
 Taking my hand in his, he tugs me behind him, leading
me toward the cafeteria. “I’ve never had a girlfriend
before, but I understand it’s customary to speak to one
another while you’re not together. Judging by the lack of
texts and calls on your cell I can see you don’t adhere to
this with your other loved ones, but if we’re not together,
Starling, I expect you to text me and tell me where you are,
who you’re with and what you’re doing.”
“You went through my phone?” I gasp.
“I did,” he says, not a hint of apology in his tone.
“And you think that’s okay?” I admonish.
“You’re my girlfriend, there won’t be any secrets
between us.”
“Firstly, I’m not your girlfriend and secondly, even if I
was, going through my cell phone is completely not okay,” I
say through gritted teeth.
“Hmm.” That’s it, no apology, no admission that he
understands being a controlling asshole is not okay, just
hmm. God, he’s such an asshole.
We reach the cafeteria doors and I yank at my hand,
trying to free myself from his hold. “I don’t want to go in
there with you.”
“Little bird.” It’s a warning, not an endearment, but I
don’t heed him.
“Everyone will see me with you.”
“Good, now march your cute butt in there, or I’ll put you
over my shoulder and carry you in.”
“I don’t want this,” I tell him, my voice taking on a
pleading note that I despise myself for.
“This isn’t about what you want, this is about making
sure that everyone in this school knows you’re mine,” he
growls, dropping my hand and wrapping his arm around
my waist, holding my hip in a just shy of punishing grip. It’s
a warning that he can and will hurt me if I don’t do as he
says, and I’m helpless but to comply.
 The room doesn’t fall silent like I expect it to, but I
doubt there’s a single person who isn’t watching Sebastian
touch me. They don’t see the fact that I’ll no doubt have a
bruise from the strength of his grip, all they know is that
one of their kings is with a girl. A girl he’s leading to their
table, a girl that he’s placing in his lap and whispering in
her ear.
Another tear tries to break free from my eyes, but I
don’t let it. Being here, being seen like this by all these
people who know I’m not like them, who know I’m below
them, makes me want to curl up in a ball and disappear. I’m
not Elite, I’m not popular, or even well liked, and I know
what they’ll be saying the moment The Elite are out of
earshot. They’ll be calling me a gold digger, a slut who’s
getting on her knees to keep one of the kings.
They’d never imagine I don’t want to be here, that
there’s blood in my mouth from how hard I’m biting my
tongue to stop myself from crying. No, all they see is the
poor girl from the wrong side of town, sitting in the rich
guy’s lap.
I swallow down a sob when the doors to the cafeteria
open, and an excited-looking Courtney bounces into the
room with Evan beside her. Unlike me, she seems
exuberant to be speaking to one of The Elite. She should be
here, not me. She’d love to have Sebastian’s attention, to
be the one on his lap while the entire school looks on
wondering what she did to be picked. The skirt of her cheer
uniform is bouncing with her as she moves, giving everyone
a peekaboo to the booty shorts she’s wearing beneath.
Everything about her is quintessential all-American,
apple pie and white picket fence. I wonder if I could
convince Sebastian she’d be a better choice for him, would
he treat her the same way he does me? No, she’d want him,
this notoriety, she wouldn’t fight him, she’d love it.
“Starling,” she shrieks, literally running across the
cafeteria until she reaches The Elites’ table and plops down
in the chair beside us. “Bitch, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Are you serious?” I gasp. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Babe, you’re sitting in Sebastian Lockwood’s lap and
there’s a video going around of you getting out of his car
this morning and him dry humping you in the parking lot.
I’d say there’s plenty to tell and I want all the details.”
Sebastian chuckles and pulls me back onto his lap a
little deeper. I freeze when I feel his hard dick beneath my
butt. I may be a virgin, but thanks to Courtney insisting we
educate ourselves with an afternoon of truly awful porn, I
know what a dick looks like and that they get hard at the
strangest things. Apparently one of those things for
Sebastian, is having an unwilling girl sitting on him.
“Courtney, I’m sure Starling will fill you in on the details
later, but first we should order,” he tells her as Hunter
appears at the table and sits down in the chair opposite
mine.
“Little bird, what do you want?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat, you didn’t have dinner last night, or
that much at breakfast this morning,” Sebastian scolds
“Did you stay at his house last night? Is that why you
didn’t need me to pick you up today?” Courtney yells. She’s
so loud that the whole room really does stop talking and
turns to look at us.
“Court,” I hiss.
“Oh. My. God. You had sex with Sebastian Lockwood?”
She’s getting louder and louder so I reach over and slap my
hand over her mouth, silencing her.
“Shut up. I haven’t had sex with him, I don’t even know
him. They turned up at the diner last night, got me fired
and scared the crap out of me. I passed out and he took me
back to his place,” I tell her quietly, glancing at the other
boys at the table who are stifling chuckles of amusement.
“What do you mean you don’t know him? You made out
with him this morning, you’re sitting in his lap.” Her arms
flail toward me, gesturing to the position I’ve been forced
into.
“I wasn’t given much of a choice about this.” I tip my
head back to Sebastian behind me.
“Little bird, you practically begged me to sit on my
dick,” he laughs, his tone the warm, amiable one he uses
with everyone except me.
“Are you kidding me?” I bark. “You threatened me.”
“Baby, you’re so dramatic,” he laughs again, releasing
his hold on my waist for the first time since he dragged me
in here.
Making the most of the opportunity, I jump up from his
lap and scoot around into the seat beside Court, letting her
act as a buffer between the two of us. Risking a glance at
Sebastian, I’m not at all surprised to find the cordiality he’s
been showing Court completely gone, replaced by a dark
anger that has fear skittering along my skin.
This beautiful boy has two completely different faces,
the one he shows to his parents, his friends, and the kids
who worship him at GAA is confident, calm, kind and nice.
Then there’s the one he only seems to show to me. That
face is angry, consumed, obsessed and I don’t know which
is the real him.
“Starling, are you listening to me?” Court asks, tugging
on my uniform and forcing my attention to her. “Stop
staring at your hot boyfriend and listen.”
“Oh, er, I wasn’t.”
“You were totally staring at him, but that’s okay if I had
a boyfriend as hot as him, I’d stare too,” she giggles.
For the next five minutes, Court talks at me in between
talking at Sebastian, Clay, Evan and Hunter. She single-
handedly keeps the conversation going as Sebastian
watches me with an intensity that has all the hairs on the
back of my neck standing to attention.
When my cell phone buzzes with a text, I ignore it, the
only people who text me are Court and my dad. Court’s
talking with her hands so it’s not her and if it’s my dad, it’ll
be because he’s lost something and thinks I might know
where it is.
When it buzzes again, I reluctantly pull it from my blazer
and check it.

Bastian: Your friend talks too much

I don’t want to chat with him, so I slide my cell back into

my pocket, only to have it buzz again almost immediately. I
pull it back out, inhaling slowly as I read the messages.

Bastian: It’s rude to ignore me

Bastian: Come and sit back in my lap.

Unable to resist I type out a reply.

Me: It’s rude to get people fired and kidnap them.

His reply is instantaneous.

Bastian: You having a job was unacceptable. And it

hardly classes as kidnapping when I took care of you
when you were sick, had you checked by a doctor and
then contacted your mother and invited her to come
and check on you.

Me: I wouldn’t have been sick if you hadn’t been

there getting me fired from the job I need.

Bastian: My lap…

Me: What about it?

 Bastian: Come sit in it.

Me: No.

Bastian: Now!

Me: No.

Bastian: If you continue to defy me, I’ll happily make

a scene and ultimately, you’ll end up doing as I please
and sitting in my lap. Or you can come and willingly
sit your ass on my dick and I’ll reward your
obedience.

Me: I’m not a dog!!

Bastian: I never insinuated that you were. I merely

suggested that you behaving would mean me
rewarding you.

Me: Will this reward involve you leaving me alone and

never speaking to me again?

Bastian: No

Me: Then I don’t see what’s in it for me?

Bastian: I will allow you to go home with your friend

after school, instead of me driving you back to my
place.

I freeze as I read the words. He wasn’t planning on

letting me go home after school? This is the first I’ve heard
of this plan, but now that I know, I’m positive I don’t want
to go anywhere with him. I need space and time and
possibly a continent or two between us.
With my legs shaking and my heart racing I push up
from my seat, take the two steps to Sebastian and then
carefully lower myself back down into his lap.
“Good choice,” he breathes against my ear as his arm
bands around my waist. His grip is tight and I realize I’ve
walked straight into his trap. Not only am I exactly where
he wants me to be, but I willingly put myself in this
position.
Soft lips find my neck and I flinch. His body tenses
beneath me and I know I’ve pissed him off, but he remains
silent while Court keeps talking. His arm around my waist
might as well be made of steel because he doesn’t allow me
even an ounce of wiggle room as he keeps nipping and
kissing my neck, even going so far as to pull my braid out
of the way to give him more room.
His teeth clamp down on my skin and I let out a
whimper as he bites me and sucks, deliberately marking
me on the back of my neck in a place that I can’t see, but
will be clearly visible to everyone else.
I try to squirm away from his punishing touch, but he
just wraps his other arm around me, keeping me
completely immobile while he brands me. It’s barbaric and
cruel and a message. A warning that if I don’t do as I’m told
or act how he wants, he’ll punish me.
The urge to claw, slap and fight flashes through my
head, but I push it away. Sebastian is bigger and stronger
than me. Physically, he’s more than capable of
overpowering me and he’s proved that he’s not above using
others to manipulate me into getting what he wants.
The best thing I can do right now is to just acquiesce
and accept my fate, at least for the rest of lunch break. I do
my best to relax and the moment I do, he releases his teeth
and replaces the pain with a tingling kiss as he gently licks
and soothes the place he just hurt.
 “I like seeing my mark on your neck, I might keep it
there so everyone else can see it too. Once I’ve taken your
virginity, I’ll finger your pussy while I bite down on my
mark until you come, then I’ll do it over and over so often
that the moment my teeth scrape across that spot, your
body will spontaneously orgasm.”
His voice is barely above a whisper, so no one but me
and him can hear what he’s saying to me. I shudder in
response, revulsion with the tiniest hint of desire. Nothing
he’s said or done should appeal to me and mostly it doesn’t.
Except there’s a little tiny part of me, a part so small I
might have gone my whole life without ever knowing it
exists that preens at his words.
I might only be sixteen years old, but I understand
feminism. I was raised by a badass, albeit slightly erratic
single mother. I’m more than aware that I don’t need a man
and that I never want to be in a position where I’m
beholden to one.
If I ever have a long-term partner or get married, I want
my relationship to be equal and balanced by mutual respect
and love. But there’s also that hidden fantasy perpetuated
by fairy tales and Fifty Shades of Grey that makes me crave
a man to sweep me off my feet, to look after me and save
me from anything, from puddles to big bad monsters.
That’s the part of me that’s a little excited by his
dominance and the way he’s managing me.
I’m grateful for the distraction when a server arrives at
our table, placing a plate of food at each place setting and
two in front of me and Sebastian. “I didn’t order anything?”
“I ordered for you,” Sebastian says.
Scowling, I turn to glare at him, all my resolve to just
behave and get away from him as soon as possible gone in
an instant. “I told you I wasn’t hungry.”
“And I told you, you need to eat, you don’t take good
enough care of yourself.”
“That’s—”
 Sebastian shuts me up by grabbing my chin, turning me
toward him and slamming his lips to mine. His tongue
forces its way into my mouth while his fingers tease at the
underside of my breast. I wish I could say I don’t respond,
that I sit there like a wet fish refusing to participate, but
that would be a lie and by the time he leans back,
separating us, I’m panting and squeezing my thighs
together to quell the ache that’s formed between my
thighs.
“Eat,” he orders, pressing a soft peck against my lips
and dragging the plate containing a delicious-looking deli
sandwich toward me.

OceanofPDF.com
 8

SEBASTIAN

S he’s perfect. Even when she’s fighting me, she’s still

everything I’ve ever wanted. She’s feisty and high
strung, she’s a challenge that I can’t wait to conquer. She
thinks she won a battle with me at lunch, but what she
doesn’t realize is that I don’t mind negotiating with her to
ensure she does as I ask. Letting her ride home with her
friend was an easy concession, especially because I plan to
follow her home, wait for her to change and then bring her
back to my place again anyway. Not that I told her that, I
gave her something she wanted and I got what I wanted.
Everyone’s happy.
When lunch is over, I reluctantly let her go to class. Clay
put an app on my cell so I can access the security cameras
and watch her whenever I want, but I resist. She’s already
my obsession, if I allow myself to watch her more than I
already do I’ll fail every single one of my classes.
The afternoon drags, the weight of my cell in my pocket
taunting me. My last period is in the classroom opposite
hers and the moment the bell sounds, I leave, settling my
back against the wall to wait for her.
The other kids pour out of the room, but she’s slower to
leave. She’s not looking where she’s going, her backpack in
her hands, her gaze fixed on it as she slides something
inside, then concentrates on fastening it up. All eyes are on
her, but she’s completely unaware. I don’t know if that’s
because she doesn’t know that they can’t keep their eyes
off her or if she just doesn’t care.
No one has dared to ask why her, but I can see the
unspoken question on all of their lips. In terms of GAA
hierarchy, she’s at the bottom. Her family’s not rich or
powerful, she’s not slutty or infamous. To the other
students she’s a nobody, or at least she was until I made
her mine. Now she’s a curiosity, someone to study, to
emulate, because she’s done what no one else has in the
three years we’ve held our positions as The Elite, she’s
caught our attention.
Don’t get me wrong, we’ve hardly been celibate since
we took over from the seniors, in fact we’ve fucked more
than our fair share of girls. There’s even some kind of club
for girls who have fucked all four of us, but none of us have
ever had more than a passing fancy.
The Lockwoods, Jansens, Morrises and Rossbergs all
have legacies to protect, we all know what’s expected of us
and that means we don’t have the luxury of dating
indiscriminately. The women we ultimately marry will
either have to bring an alliance, or have a pedigree that
makes them an asset.
Starling has neither of those things, but my parents are
romantics and when I realized my obsession with her
wasn’t going away, I told them about her. If I was in my
senior year at college they probably would have told me
she wasn’t an option, but claiming her now when she’s only
sixteen gives me and them time to shape her and our future
together into something they deem worthy.
“Little bird, if you don’t pay better attention to what’s
going on around you, you’ll end up falling over someone or
something and getting hurt,” I say, curling my palm
possessively around her neck, stroking my thumb over the
purpling bruised bite mark I put on her.
 “Oh god,” she gasps, startled. “Jesus, you again. You
need a bell or something, you scared me.”
“Sorry, baby,” I coo, laughing as I turn her into my arms,
lean down and kiss her.
“You need to stop kissing me,” she whispers breathlessly
when I release her.
Draping my arm across her shoulders, I urge her to start
walking again. “Until I can get my dick inside of you,
kissing you and touching you is all we’ve got. I plan to use
your lips as much as I can. Unless you’d prefer I lift up your
skirt and play with your pussy again, like I did this
morning?”
Her cheeks heat to a light-pink color and I smile to
myself. She likes me kissing her, she likes it when I tell her
all the dirty things I plan to do to her. She can deny
wanting me as much as she likes, but I saw and felt how
wet she was this morning. I kept her panties as a fucking
souvenir. She’s the most tempting kind of jailbait, and I’ll
take her and own her, but not yet, not until she’s begging
for it. I can wait, because the moment she’s ready I’ll make
her mine in every way possible; until then my balls will be
bluer than a fucking Smurf’s and my dick will be chaffed
from all the whacking off I’ll be doing.
“What’s up anyway?” she asks.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you here? I’m riding home with Court.
You said.”
“I know, although you could both ride with me.”
“I want to ride with my friend.” Her tone becomes
defiant and I grip her a little tighter.
“I said you could ride with your friend; I didn’t say you
could be a bitch to me. You’re my fucking girlfriend, if I
want to meet you after class, I will. And you’ll smile and
kiss me and be fucking pleased to see me.”
“God, Sebastian, hasn’t this game gone on for long
enough already? I’m not sure what you win or whatever,
but you’ve belittled me, embarrassed me, ruined at least
the next couple of months at school until people forget
about this, and got me fired from a job I liked. Isn’t that
enough? Whatever I did to piss you guys off, I’m sorry, I
won’t do it again, just please, please leave me alone.”
She’s pleading, begging, and all I feel is anger. I want to
brand my name on her ass, put a ring on her finger and
have her ride my dick twenty-four seven until she
understands this isn’t make believe, it isn’t a game or a
punishment or any kind of childish folly. “You think being
my girlfriend is a punishment?”
“I think this is all just a cruel game, The Elite dishing
out an outlandish punishment, like you do to the other kids
who do something to piss you off.”
She’s not wrong about us being creative in the ways we
punish those who step out against us, or break the rules we
have set in place to keep order at GAA. I suppose it’s not
entirely out of the realm of possibility that we could
pretend to claim a girl, get her caught up in our web and
dump her. It’s not something we’ve done before, but then
penance is rarely doled out in the same manner twice.
“Our punishments aren’t cruel; we mete out justice in
equal measure to suit the crime. Have you done something
that would warrant being punished by The Elite?” I ask.
“No,” she cries. “I haven’t done anything. The school
year only started yesterday and I didn’t see anyone but
Court all summer.”
“If you haven’t done anything to break the rules, why
would you think I’m punishing you?” I ask, genuinely
curious why she’s so determined not to believe this is real.
“Seriously,” she deadpans. “I’m me and you’re you. Even
if we disregard the differences in our socioeconomic status,
before yesterday we’d never spoken to one another, I’d
never even glanced in your direction for longer than a
second. You’re an Elite and a senior, and I’m an antisocial
outcast sophomore. This,” she motions between the two of
us, “Doesn’t make any sense, ergo, this must be a trick, or
a punishment, or hell, maybe it’s a bet. Whatever. I just
think that enough is enough; you’ve had your fun, I’m
thoroughly humiliated and humbled.”
“I’m not punishing you, little bird.”
We’re outside now and her friend is waiting with Evan,
but I ignore them, taking Starling’s chin between my
fingers and lifting it up, forcing her to look at me. “This
isn’t a trick, a game, a bet or a punishment. I’ve wanted
you since I saw you last year, but you were a freshman and
completely off-limits, even to me. I’ve waited a full year to
touch you, kiss you and tell the whole fucking world you’re
mine. I won’t ever be cruel to you, unless you force my
hand. You’re mine and when we graduate, we’ll name you
Elite so you’ll be protected, I look after the things that
belong to me.”
Her pupils are blown wide and her full pouty lips are
damp, the bottom red from the way she’s nibbling at it as
she stares at me. “I just want to be invisible; I don’t want to
be seen or protected, I’m happy just being ignored.”
“The time for hiding has passed, you’re a queen now,
better get used to it.” I smile, turning her toward Courtney
and slapping her ass hard, propelling her forward as Clay
saunters over to me, staying at my side as I watch Starling
and Courtney walk away.
“Hate to see them go, love to watch them walk away,”
Clay whistles.
“You better not be looking at my woman’s ass,” I spit.
“Nah, bro, my eyes are on the talkative cheerleader’s
ass. That fucking uniform never looked so good before. If I
could gag her to shut her up, she’d be the perfect fucking
woman.”
“I thought you preferred feisty Latina girls? Courtney
couldn’t be any more WASP if she tried.”
“She’s a cheerleader, she can bend like a fucking
pretzel, imagine all the possibilities,” Clay says with a
wistful sigh.
“You can do whatever the fuck you want to her now
she’s a sophomore, you know the rules as well as I do. But
she’s not sixteen for a couple of months and you’ll be
eighteen soon, you know your parents would kill you if
there was a scandal about you fucking an underage girl.”
“I know, I know,” he says, waving me off. “I’ve heard the
talk about family expectations and keeping up appearances
just as many times as you have, it’s why we’ve been
screwing seniors since we were freshmen. Gotta say, I’m
surprised you’re letting Starling go with blondie, I figured
you’d want eyes on her.”
A low, dry laugh falls from my lips as I move toward my
Mercedes. “I said she could ride with her; I didn’t say we
wouldn’t be following. Find out where Evan and Hunter
are, we’re leaving the moment little bird leaves, whether
they’re here or not.”
“Dude, you are so whipped,” he laughs.
“Just thoroughly obsessed.”
By the time Courtney’s car drives out the school gates,
we’re behind her, staying on her tail the entire way back to
Starling’s place despite their attempt to lose us by taking
several random detours and attempting to outrun us on a
stretch of quiet road.
“What the hell, Sebastian? Why are you here?” Starling
demands the moment she barrels out of Courtney’s car.
“We’re eating at my place,” I tell her calmly, grabbing
her wrist when she’s close enough and pulling her into my
chest.
Fighting me, she slams her fists against my pecs, but I
just hold her tighter, immobilizing her. “Behave, little bird,
go and say goodbye to your friend.”
“I’d rather say goodbye to you. I’ve spent the last
twenty-four hours dealing with you and all your bullshit, I
just want to go in my house, get into my comfy clothes and
search for a new job while I try to pretend you don’t exist,”
she says, exhaling tiredly.
“Say goodbye to your friend,” I snarl as calmly as I can
muster.
Her eyes close and she exhales, her shoulders slumping
as she turns and pads resignedly to Courtney’s car. I’m not
sure exactly what she says to the cheerleader, but they
embrace through the window before Courtney backs the
car down onto the street and waves gleefully to me as she
speeds off back toward North Acres.
Without saying a word, Starling wraps her fingers
around the straps of her backpack, climbs the steps to her
door, opens it and walks inside without even a backward
glance. Watching it swing shut, I smile to myself, then turn
back to the car and my friends who are waiting inside.
“I have to go and deal with my girl. Go home, grab the
Lambo, then drop it off back here for me in an hour or so.
I’ll negotiate with my angry little bird, then bring her home
to hang out later.”
“Let’s watch a movie at mine, the media room refurb is
finally finished and we can chill,” Hunter suggests.
“Sounds good, can someone let my mom know I’m
eating dinner with Starling?”
“Sure, dude, have fun.” Clay laughs.
Flicking him the bird, I head for the front door, open it
and let myself in. I can hear Starling talking to her mom on
one side of the house, so I follow the sound and find myself
outside a tiny, and what appears to be a very cluttered
office space. Cassidy is behind a small desk, the wall
behind it is covered in Post-it notes with strings connecting
one note to the next. It’s like a serial killer lair, which is
kind of apt considering Cassidy writes books about
murderers.
“It’s not true, Mom,” Starling says, her voice imploring.
“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to pretend. I’ve met
him now, he’s a lovely boy and his family was so kind and
gracious to me last night. I don’t know why you thought
you had to hide him from me, you know you can tell me
anything.”
Starling tips her head back and groans. “It’s all bullshit,
the first time I ever spoke to him was yesterday, I haven’t
hidden anything from you, because there’s nothing to hide.
He’s an asshole and he’s playing you; he’s playing everyone
as part of some fucked-up, malicious game.”
“Baby,” I coo, stepping out of my spot outside the door
and into Cassidy’s office, sliding my arm around Starling’s
waist. “There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m your
boyfriend, your mom understands young love, and we
agreed now summer’s over we need your mom to get to
know me, so we can spend as much time together as we
can now that we’re back at school.”
Starling’s mouth gapes open like a fish, but I don’t give
her a second, pressing a kiss to her cheek as I stare
lovingly at her for a moment, then look to her mom.
“Cassidy, Starling has been so worried to tell you about us.
I told her you wouldn’t be mad, I know I’m a little older
than her, but I was raised to respect women and I promise
I’ll only ever behave appropriately toward your daughter. I
love her, she’s my world and I just want to be with her.
Please give us your blessing, I know it would mean the
world to Starling.”
Cassidy’s eyes soften and she smiles at us wistfully, like
she’s remembering what it’s like to be young and in love.
“Starling, baby, you should have just told me, I only ever
want you to be happy and loved and I think it’s obvious to
anyone who looks at the two of you together how much
Sebastian loves you. You’re young, it’s the time to love big,
so of course you have my blessing. Enjoy one another, just
not too much, doors stay open, because I don’t want to be a
nana until you’re at least thirty.”
“Mom,” Starling gasps. “How”
 Before she can say anything, I interrupt. “Don’t worry,
Cassidy, I promise to take the very best care of her. Thank
you so much for being so wonderful about this. My parents
are having a pool party this weekend, of course Starling
will be coming, but we’d love for you to come too. Family is
so important to my parents and they don’t just want to get
to know Starling, they want you to feel comfortable with
them too.”
“Oh that would be so lovely, your parents made me feel
so welcome last night, I’d love to join you. Your mom and I
exchanged cell numbers, so please have her call me with
the details.”
“Perfect,” I smile. “We are going to order pizza for
dinner, are you joining us? Is there anything specific you
like?” I ask her, while Starling just gapes at me.
Cassidy waves her hand in the air, “No, you kids just
feed yourselves, I have so much to do to get this book
finished, I’m planning to just hole up in here for the rest of
the night.”
“We’re going over to Hunter’s place to watch a movie
once we’ve eaten, so we won’t be here to disturb you.”
“Sebastian, that is so sweet of you to think of me, but
you don’t need to worry, my office is soundproofed. I’m
always telling Starling she can bring her friends around,
but it’s usually just Courtney.”
“I need to find a new job,” Starling says loudly.
“We talked about that, baby,” I say through gritted teeth.
“Starling, I agree with Sebastian, you need to
concentrate on your schoolwork and having a job in the
evenings and weekends just isn’t appropriate now you’re
back at GAA.”
“But spending the evening watching movies with Hunter
is?” Starling spits.
“As long as you’ve finished all of your homework, then
yes it is,” Cassidy says, straightening her spine and steeling
her voice. “I’m not going to argue with you about this, high
school is important, so is making friends and being a kid.
I’ve talked to my publisher’s PR people today and we’ve
worked out a plan to market my back catalog better. I know
you think you need to act like an adult, but you don’t. I’m
the parent, so no job, more focus on being sixteen.”
“But, Mom” Starling starts.
“Enough Starling. Now scoot, I have work to do and you
have pizza to eat and a cute boy to make out with. With the
door open,” Cassidy laughs, dismissing us as she turns her
attention to the screen in front of her.
Starling starts to protest, so I grab her hand and tug her
from the room, closing the door behind us.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shrieks, all of the
stunned silence from a few moments ago gone and
replaced with indignant outrage.
“Letting your mom know what my intentions are,” I
smirk.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Little bird, you haven’t seen anything yet, there isn’t a
limit to what I’d do to keep you.”
“You can’t keep something that isn’t yours in the first
place.”
Turning her, I press her against the wall, collaring her
throat with my hand as I lean in and kiss her. Sliding my
tongue into her mouth, I barely repress a smile when her
own tongue immediately tangles with mine. There’s no
hesitation, she‘s kissing me with just as much fervor as I’m
kissing her. Her hands are gripping my blazer, and despite
what she might try to say later, she’s not trying to push me
away.
Sliding my leg between hers, I use my free hand to push
her skirt up and palm her ass, tilting her forward until her
cunt is pressed against my thigh. Rolling my hips, I grind
against her core and she moans, arching into my touch, not
away from it.
 She can deny the connection between us as much as she
wants, but her body is betraying her, it knows that she
belongs to me, and that the only person who can give her
the pleasure and release she needs, is me.
In time she’ll learn that only my touch will satisfy her
and I crave that, crave her needing me to feel good. Not
that she’ll ever have the chance to know what it feels like
to be touched by anyone but me. Most of what I said to
Cassidy might have been bullshit to get her on board with
my plans for her daughter, but Starling being my world was
one-hundred-percent true. She’s who I wake up thinking
about and the image that chases me into my dreams. She’s
everything, and I’ll do whatever it takes to tie her to me.
Tightening my hold on her throat, I grind my leg a little
more vigorously against her cunt and she pants, a cry
falling from her lips as I fuck her mouth with my tongue,
squeezing her ass and guiding her to roll her hips.
She comes on a startled cry, her grip on my blazer
tightening as her body jerks and shudders as she comes all
over my pants.
“If you’re not mine, why was your tongue in my mouth?
If you’re not mine, why is your skirt around your waist and
my hand on your ass? If you’re not mine, why are my pants
wet from where your pussy has soaked them with your
cum?”
Pulling her head away she closes her eyes, trying to hide
from me and the truth of my words, but I release her throat
and grab her chin instead, squeezing. “Open your eyes, you
don’t get to lie to me and hide from me. Look me in the face
and tell me how I’ve given you two orgasms today but I
don’t fucking own you.”
I force her gaze to lock with mine, refusing to allow her
to deny this for a second longer. Her silence is more telling
than any words. I let her sulk as I order pizza and we sit
together in her bedroom, eating and doing homework. It’s a
strangely nice and domestic moment but she’s tense,
waiting for me to do something or say something.
When the pizza boxes are finished, I collect all the trash
and stand. “You need to get changed, we’re going to
Hunter’s.”
“I don’t want to go to Hunter’s, I don’t like Hunter,” she
whines.
“Why don’t you like Hunter?”
“I don’t like any of you. You’re all elitist assholes.”
“Cute,” I smirk. “I’ll take these, you find something
comfy, we’re watching a movie in his new media room.”
“His media room,” she scoffs.
Rolling my eyes, I take the pizza boxes outside to the
trash can, then walk back into her room, finding her in
nothing but her bra and panties.
“Get out,” she yells.
“Hell no.” Crossing to her bed, I sink down onto it and
lift my hands behind my head, settling in to admire the
view.
Grabbing her uniform from the floor, she scrambles to
cover herself and I laugh. “Drop the clothes, little bird, let
me see.”
“Fuck you, get out of my room.”
Tutting softly, I let my gaze roam over her body. She’s
soft in all the right places, despite how skinny she is, and I
can’t wait to see how lush her curves get when she’s eating
properly and not exhausted and running on fumes.
“Perhaps we can make a deal.”
“What deal?” she asks slowly.
“Quid pro quo, you do something for me and I’ll do
something for you.”
“All I want from you is for you to leave me alone.”
“Never going to happen, but how about you drop the
clothes and let me look at you, and I’ll allow you to ride to
school with Courtney in the morning.”
 Scoffing dismissively, she tightens her grip on the shirt
that’s barely covering her tits. “I don’t need your
permission to ride with her.”
“She’s been advised not to collect you anymore and she
was only too happy to oblige, she’s over the moon that
you’re my girlfriend,” I say smugly.
“I’m not your girlfriend.”
“Considering you were coming on my leg less than an
hour ago, I beg to differ.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“So you’ve said,” I smirk.
“I hate you,” she hisses, then glances down at the
clothes she’s using to hide herself from me, a conniving
look shining in her expressive eyes. “I’ll let you see me, but
I want to ride to and from school with Courtney
permanently.”
“No deal. If you want that, then I want your virgin cunt
riding my dick.”
“What? No!” she gasps, shocked.
“That’s okay, I can wait till the next time I make you
come, then I’ll strip you out of your clothes and lick you
from head to toe.”
A flash of panic, laced with desire darts across her face.
“Courtney picks me up and drives me home from school all
week and we eat lunch at our own table.”
I pause, making her think I’m considering her offer. I’m
not. She may think she’s in charge right now, but this is all
just a game and I’m the one moving the pieces. “Very well.
Strip. Slowly, I want to savor my first view of you bare to
me.”
Closing her eyes, she drops her chin to her chest and
inhales. After a long moment, she lifts her head and then
drops the shirt she’s been using to hide herself to the floor.
My dick surges to life. She’s perfect. “The bra first,” I
prompt.
 Reaching behind her, she unfastens her bra, then
freezes, her elbows clamped to her sides keeping her bra in
place.
I could demand she drop it, but I don’t want that,
instead I keep my steady gaze on her and wait. It only takes
a couple of minutes and then she drops the bra, forcing her
arms to stay at her sides, her hands clenched into fists.
“Now the panties.” I want to say more, but my throat is
tight, her breasts are perfect, small, but perky, her nipples
are a rosy-pink color, the peak pebbled and begging to be
sucked.
Her fingers dip to her panties and instead of delaying,
she closes her eyes and pushes them down, kicking them
free of her feet. Taking advantage of her eyes being closed,
I run my gaze lasciviously over her naked skin.
There’s a small, neat patch of hair coating her pussy lips
that’s wet with the arousal I know she’ll deny if I point it
out. Moving silently, I get up from her bed and step toward
her, reaching out, but stopping myself an inch from her
skin. She looks so innocent, even though she’s standing
here naked for me, and my dick twitches in my pants ready
to steal that purity from her and dirty her up.
“Beautiful,” I whisper against her neck, pressing a soft
kiss against her fluttering pulse.
Snapping her eyes open, she lifts her hands to cover
herself, but I bat them away, biting my bottom lip as I
blatantly peruse her, wanting her to feel what it’s like for
me to have my eyes all over her.
“Sebastian,” she says, my name on her lips a warning we
both know I won’t heed. She’s mine, I can do whatever I
please. I’m only allowing her a sense of control while I want
her to have it.
Glancing to the partially open door, I peek out to check
her mom isn’t upstairs before I circle her, stroking my
fingers over her luscious ass. Slapping it once, I watch it
jiggle, then curl my arm around her waist and pull her into
me, my dick pressed up against her back.
“You’re utterly perfect, little bird. I’m a lucky man.”
“You’ve looked your fill, I need to get dressed.”
“Not yet, it’s time for your reward.”
“I don’t need a reward, I just need to put some clothes
on,” she argues.
Moving the hand around her waist lower, she jolts when
I slide my fingers through her damp folds. “You’re such a
good little bird, but I’m going to make you feel even
better.”
“No,” she protests.
Dipping a single finger into her tight pussy, I wrap my
other arm around her and press my thumb against her clit.
“Sebastian.”
“I can feel how wet you are, Starling, your lips might be
saying no, but your body is saying yes.” Slowly I start to
slide my finger in and out of her, rubbing circles on her clit,
teasing her and coaxing her pleasure.
Slick arousal drips down my fingers, she’s soaked. I add
a second finger, pushing it inside of her and smiling when
she clenches her pussy around them, a moan falling from
her parted lips. Carefully I fuck her pussy and rub her clit
until she’s moaning my name and grinding her hips, moving
into my touch, trying to force me to move quicker, fuck her
harder with my hand. But she’s not in control and instead
of doing what she’s begging for, I pull my fingers from her
and move my thumb from her swollen clit.
“What?” she pants.
“I thought you wanted me to stop?”
“Sebastian.” Her voice is desperate and I smile, this is
how I want her to always be, panting and writhing for my
touch, for the pleasure only I will ever give her.
“Do you want me to touch you? To make you come?”
“Yes, yes,” she whines.
“Say it, ask me for what you need.”
 “Touch me, make me come.”
“You want me to put my fingers into your dripping
cunt?”
“Yes, please,” she begs.
“Say, please Bastian, fuck my dripping cunt with your
fingers until I come all over your hand.”
She’s silent, so I use two fingers and tap twice over her
swollen clit.
“The only way you get to come is by asking me.”
Her hips roll and a soft moan falls from her parted lips.
“Please, Bastian, fuck my dripping cunt with your fingers
until I come all over your hand.”
“Of course, little bird, you only ever need to ask,” I say,
smirking as I force my fingers back into her soaked core,
fucking her hard and fast as I rub her clit until her knees
give way and she cries out, her internal muscles fluttering
and clenching around my fingers.
“I hate you,” she whispers as soon as her body calms
and she can stand on her own.
“No you don’t, little bird, you just wish you did.”

OceanofPDF.com
 9

STARLING

H unter’s house is huge, not quite as big as Sebastian’s,

but still ridiculous for just him and his parents to live in.
If he has any siblings, I’ve never heard of them or seen
them at school. After Sebastian made me orgasm with his
fingers; he insisted on watching while I showered and
redressed, his eyes fixed on me as if I’d make a run for it if
he glanced away. I didn’t speak a single word to him and he
didn’t try to make me, it was a refreshing change.
The media room is ridiculous, with a huge screen almost
as big as the ones you get at the movies. Huge navy-blue
velvet couches are built into the tiered steps, allowing you
to sit on three different levels depending on how far away
from the screen you want to be. But despite how big the
room is and how many couches there are to pick from, the
guys all pile onto a single couch. Their actions are familiar
and practiced. Hunter grabs sodas from a refrigerator and
what looks to be a movie snacks station at the back of the
room. Clay scoops freshly popped popcorn from an honest-
to-goodness popcorn machine. Evan selects several boxes
of candy while Sebastian grabs extra pillows and blankets.
I’m the odd man out and I find myself almost grateful when
Sebastian takes my hand and pulls me down onto his lap.
Being around him is exhausting, he makes me feel on
edge and jumpy because his mercurial moods swing from
coaxing to cruel. I’m actually starting to believe this is
more than just an elaborate game. The way he touches me,
the things he says and the look on his face, it all seems too
real, too raw and intense to be make believe.
If he’d approached me, been nice to me and then asked
me out, I might not have said no. But that’s not how it
happened and I can’t forget the glint in his eye when he
forces me to behave a certain way. He enjoys it. He likes his
control over me, just like he enjoys being an Elite and
having power over a whole school full of kids.
What is it they say? That power corrupts? In Sebastian’s
case, I’m sure it’s true. He’s rich, confident, revered,
beautiful. Anything he wants he gets, but I can’t allow
myself to be just another thing that belongs to him. I
refused to be owned.
The guys chat between themselves, but I don’t try to
insert myself into their conversation, I don’t want to be a
part of their world. Instead, I fidget in Sebastian’s lap,
trying to get comfortable, knowing that getting him to
allow me to move will mean selling even more of my soul to
the devil.
Earlier when I stripped for him, I thought I was winning.
For a short moment I honestly thought I held the upper
hand, after all, what could he do just looking at me? But
when I was naked and his eyes were on me, I finally started
to understand where the power lay—solely at his feet.
Everything he’s done, the way he’s behaved, has all
been about him toying with me. We’re playing a game that I
don’t know the rules to, and I need to figure out how I end
the game without losing to him.
Maybe if the only players were him and me, I might
stand a chance, but after only two days he’s already got my
mom and my bestie on his team. I’m outgunned by him and
I have no idea what to do to try and free myself of his
obsessive hold.
 Someone dims the lights and a movie starts to play on
the huge screen. It’s vaguely familiar, a new release that
Court suggested we go to the movies to watch. A sudden
wave of exhaustion washes over me and I yawn, settling
back against Sebastian. I want to leave, to go home and
just sleep in my own bed, but I know if I suggest it he’ll
refuse.
“You okay?” he asks, his warm breath against my ear.
“Tired,” I say wearily.
“Sleep then, little bird.” Pulling a blanket over us, he
turns me slightly and encourages me to rest my head
against his shoulder. I know I should fight it, but I’ve tried
to fight today, I’ve tried to negotiate. All it’s gotten me is
kissed in front of the whole school, a purple claiming bite
on the back of my neck and naked while he touched me. So
far I’m losing both the battle and the war; it’s time to
regroup and figure out a new plan.
I must fall asleep, because when I wake up, I’m being
carried in Sebastian’s arms. “I want to go home,” I mumble
sleepily.
“I am your home.”
Vague memories of getting home and getting into bed, of
Sebastian crawling in with me, his warmth pressed against
my back, and his arm wrapped around my waist fill my
dreams. But I wake up alone, in my own bed, wearing
nothing but my bra and panties. Rolling to my back, I stare
up at the ceiling. A plan came to me at some point last
night, it’s risky, but it might work. Sebastian is all about
reputation. His family name is powerful, he’s a force to be
reckoned with at school and even at seventeen he’s a
formidable opponent.
He's acting like an adult, so maybe it’s time to revert to
a more playground-like defense. I’m going to make a scene.
I’m going to wait for the perfect moment and I’m going to
call him out, shout and scream and call him names. It’s
childish and juvenile, but right about now it’s the only idea
I have. If it works, he’ll be embarrassed for himself and of
me and he’ll have to leave me alone because it will ruin his
reputation to have a crazy girlfriend who acts like a ten-
year-old. If it doesn’t work, then… well honestly, I’m not
sure, but I have a feeling him taking over my life and
bartering to get me naked will feel like a walk in the park
compared to what he’ll have in store for me.
Dragging myself out of bed I get ready for school, and
then head downstairs in search of my mom. I expect to find
her in her office still in her sleep shirt, her hair mussed, her
glasses askew, but instead she’s up, dressed and looking…
good.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” she says in an upbeat
singsong voice.
“You look nice,” I tell her, taking in her slim-fitted jeans,
pale-pink silk blouse and low-heeled black ankle boots.
She’s even styled her normally crazy hair into sleek curls.
“Thanks, sweetie. Miranda, Mary, Heather and I are
going shopping, then out for lunch. They’re not picking me
up for a couple of hours, but I was just so excited I couldn’t
wait, so I got ready.”
“Mom, we can’t afford to shop at the same places as
them.”
Mom’s lips purse together. “Starling, I’m getting a little
annoyed with you trying to be the parent out of the two of
us.”
“Well one of us has to be the grown-up,” I snap, then
instantly regret it.
“Young lady, I have kept a roof over our heads, clothes
on our backs and food in the cupboards your entire life. You
go to an expensive private school, we live in a nice house in
a nice area, I suggest you check your attitude right now.”
This is what drives me crazy about my mom. Yes, we
have all those things, but for the last few years, I’ve been
the one reminding my mom to pay the bills and covering
the difference with my wages if there’s not enough in her
checking account. I’ve been the one saying I don’t need to
go to an expensive private school. I’ve been the one
working every shift that’s been available to cover the
deficit in our income when her books have had a bad sales
month. She may be the parent, but I’m hardly a child.
“Are you serious right now? Do you know who paid the
electric bill last month? Me. Do you know who deposited
money into your account to cover the mortgage every
month for the last six months? Me. I don’t know if you’re
really this clueless, or if you’re just so far in your own head
that you have no idea what’s happening in real life, but
without me putting all my wages into your bank account,
we would have lost the house months ago. You think it’s a
fun game to play with the rich folks, have at it, but don’t
forget that they’re them and we’re us. Sebastian flashed his
winning smile and his parents’ money at you and you’re
basically handing him my virginity on a platter, even
though I’ve told you over and over that he isn’t my
boyfriend, that he thinks he owns me and he’s not giving
me a choice.”
Mom’s lips part and for a minute I think she’s actually
heard me, that she’s listening to what I’m saying, but then
she scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Wow, whatever you pair are
arguing about must be quite the teen lovers tiff for you to
be so dramatic this early in the morning. Sebastian is
smitten with you and you’re smitten with him, I was young
and in love once, I recognize the look. Go to school and
make up, hopefully you’ll be in a better mood when you get
home later, because Miranda has invited us for dinner.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away. What use
are they when my mom, the woman who’s supposed to be
my biggest supporter, is so blinded by him, his family and
the wealth that surrounds them? “Have a nice day,” I say
quietly, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator and
a granola bar from the cupboard. “I’m going to look out for
Court.”
 “Have a good day, honey,” Mom calls, but I ignore her,
hoisting my backpack over my shoulders, stepping outside
and then sitting down on the front steps to wait for my
friend.
I’m early and she won’t be here for at least ten minutes,
so I pull my cell from the bottom of my backpack and call
my dad. His day starts about three a.m., so I know he’ll be
awake, hopefully he’ll be at the helm and not pulling in
pots.
“Starling, is everything okay?” he asks immediately
when he answers.
“Hey, Dad, everything’s fine, I just had a little time to
spare.”
“Oh well that’s nice, darlin’, how’s school?”
I contemplate telling him about Sebastian, but decide
against it when he’s a three-hour flight or a twenty-five-
hour drive away. There’s nothing he can do. Hell, he might
end up as taken in by him and his family as Mom and Court
are, and right now I don’t think I could cope with losing
him as well.
“Same old, same old. A bunch of rich kids all talking
about their summer in the Hamptons or the Caribbean.
Hopefully I can go to public school next year and be around
normal people.” Dad knows I don’t love GAA, but he also
knows it’s paid for and that it would be wasteful to attend a
run-down, no-opportunity public school while my tuition to
GAA is there.
“Just make the most of the education that place can give
you, work hard to give yourself a good foundation, so
you’re ahead of the curve if your mama can’t afford to keep
you there. You know I’d help her out if I could.”
“I know you would, but there’s no point you having to
work any harder to send me to a school I don’t want to be
at in the first place. I’m the poor relation to these kids,
apart from Court.”
 “Your mama told me you’d quit your job, so you could
always come out and visit me during winter break, maybe
even for Christmas, if you wanted?”
I haven’t had Christmas with my dad since he and my
mom split up. Once a year during the summer we spend
three weeks together and we talk on the phone every
Wednesday. He’s never suggested I come during any other
holiday.
“Wouldn’t you have to work?”
“No, Christmas is the only holiday we have more than a
day off for. There’s always something to fish, catch or bait,
but the whole crew has a week with their families over
Christmas and New Year’s.”
Suddenly I feel five years old again, missing my dad and
just wanting to see him. “I’d love to spend Christmas with
you, Daddy.”
“Well that’s just made my day, darlin’. I’ll text your
mama and let her know, then I’ll get some flights booked. I
got to get back to it, I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
Ending the call, I slide my cell back into my blazer and
exhale. The melancholy I’d felt since I woke up this
morning fades and a feeling of hope settles in its place. My
mom might be caught up in the Lockwood hype, but I’m not
and neither is my dad. I need this, I need to be away from
this town and Sebastian and even my mom and Court too, I
need to be somewhere where no one cares who Sebastian
is, where he has no power.
An unfamiliar car slows to a stop at the end of the
driveway and I watch, waiting to see if someone will get
out. No one does, then the rear window rolls down and
Court appears. “Morning babe, how cool is this Tesla?” she
shrieks excitedly.
My brows furrow in confusion when Sebastian steps
from the other side of the car a smug expression etched
across his beautiful face. “Good morning, little bird.”
 I shake my head and point at him angrily. “We had a
deal, I get to ride with Court.”
His smile is pure evil, sin in human form. “We agreed
that Courtney would collect you from your house and take
you to school and return you home at the end of the day.”
He gestures to the car. “Courtney is here, collecting you for
school, you never specified that she had to be in her own
vehicle, or that you two be the only people present. First
rule of business, always read the small print.”
Angry, frustrated tears pool in my eyes, but I blink them
away. There’s no point making a scene, fighting one-on-one
isn’t how I’ll extract myself from his hold. Instead, I stand
up and follow him to the car, climbing into the back row of
seats with Sebastian next to me. Court is talking a mile a
minute at Clay in the row ahead of us and Hunter and Evan
are up front.
“No fighting?” he asks.
I shake my head, rest my cheek against the window and
close my eyes.
The morning passes in a haze of covert glances and
hostile glares. Arriving at school for a second day with The
Elite and having Sebastian plaster himself to me as he
walks me through the halls to my homeroom has everyone
even more interested in me and why I’ve been chosen. I
hate the notoriety it’s giving me, but Court on the other
hand is loving it. I saw the way her eyes lit up when
everyone saw her get out of Evan’s car and honestly, it
worries me how much she’s enjoying all the attention.
Sebastian is waiting outside my classroom the moment
the bell rings. Sighing, I walk to him and hand him my
backpack when he offers to carry it. His expression is
confused and there’s a furrow in his brow as he looks me
over expectantly, trying to find something, but I’m not sure
what.
When we reach the main hallway that holds the
cafeteria, there’s a crowd of people surrounding something
that’s happening up ahead. Sebastian grips my hand a little
tighter, guiding us through as the kids part to give him a
clear path. When we reach the reason for all the onlookers,
I’m shocked to find a boy being held by Hunter, with Evan
and Clay standing intimidatingly on either side.
“Stay here, little bird,” Sebastian orders, handing me
back my bag and stepping forward toward the scared-
looking boy and the rest of The Elite.
“On your knees, Adrian,” Sebastian orders, his voice
firm and low.
“Please, please, I’m sorry, it was a mistake,” the boy
pleads, in a reedy whine.
I’ve spent plenty of time with the GAA Elite in the last
couple of days, they’re intense and commanding, but I’ve
never seen this side of them before. Right now they’re
formidable, hard and intimidating and I’m not going to lie,
I’m a little scared of them all. By the looks of it, so is
Adrian.
The kids that are crowded around the scene shuffle
nervously as we wait to see what will happen. I understand
the role The Elite play at the school, but this is the first
time I’ve seen them mete out punishment in such a public
way.
Sebastian points to a spot on the floor in front of the
guys and a trembling Adrian slowly sinks to his knees.
“It was a mistake, it won’t happen again,” Adrian gasps.
“You’re right, bringing drugs to a fucking party was a
mistake, so was bringing a fifteen-year-old date and fucking
her in one of my guest rooms after you fed her several lines
of coke,” Clay hisses
“I—” Adrian chokes.
“I’m not interested in your excuses,” Clay growls,
pulling back his foot and then swinging it forward, kicking
Adrian and sending him flying onto his back. “That girl was
a fucking mess, high as a fucking kite and throwing up
everywhere when the staff found her, and now my asshole
parents are getting shit from her family because she was at
my party.”
“She wanted it, man,” Adrian protests.
“She’s fifteen,” Hunter hisses, kicking Adrian again.
“Okay, okay, so what do I have to do?” Adrian begs.
“You’re now our bitch.” Evan laughs.
“What?” It sounds like Adrian’s crying now.
“You heard him, from now until graduation, you’re our
bitch. You’ll do our washing, carry our shit. Wipe our
fucking ass if that’s what we tell you to do. You’re a social
outcast, no one here will talk to you, no one anywhere will
sell to you, buy from you, or associate with you. We’ve
blacklisted you and your entire family to everyone in the
tristate area,” Sebastian says, his voice low and sinister.
“You. You can’t do that,” he whimpers.
“Sure we can. We can do whatever we want. Your
parents are rich because of our parents. Our families give
and they can just as easily take away,” Evan says in his
superior drawl that somehow doesn’t make him sound like
as much of an asshole as it should.
“I won’t do it. I don’t believe you,” Adrian says, trying to
force some strength into his voice and failing.
“Your choice. Alternatively, the video of you selling pills
and coke at my party will be released to both the police and
the media. We also have the name of your supplier which
we’ll release along with the pictures of you and him
meeting so you could buy drugs. Then if that’s not enough,
we have video of you practically forcing coke on a fifteen-
year-old girl and then fucking her. That’s statutory rape
and probably child abuse. You’ll be on the sex offender’s
registry for the rest of your fucking life.” Clay laughs lowly.
“I didn’t know she was fifteen, she said she was legal.”
“You’re eighteen, asshat; legal or not, she’s still too
fucking young for you to be feeding her coke and fucking
her at a party. Get some self-respect, you pedo.” Hunter
cries, kicking the stooped figure again.
 “Okay, okay, I’ll do whatever you want,” a broken voice
says.
“We figured as much. Come on then, bitch, it’s time for
lunch.” Clay laughs.
I watch as Adrian starts to claw his way to his feet, only
to be knocked back down by Hunter. His sheer size and the
scowl on his face makes him much more intimidating in this
moment than he’s ever seemed before. “You crawl on your
hands and knees behind us.”
“What?” Adrian chokes.
“You’re our bitch, and where should little bitches be?”
Sebastian asks with a sinister laugh. “On their knees, so
that’s where you’ll be from now on. On your knees either
behind us, or at our feet.”
All four men laugh as they walk away, pausing a few
steps ahead to turn and wait for Adrian to follow. I expect
him to argue, to fight, not that he deserves an ounce of
leniency if what they said he did is true. But instead, he
pushes up onto his hands and knees, lowers his head and
moves forward, crawling along the floor like a dog behind
his masters.
The congregation around me all watch in a state of utter
shock as The Elite leave with Adrian following behind them.
No one dares to say a word, the entire school has been
stunned to silence.
“Oh my god, look at them,” Courtney whispers excitedly
from beside me.
I jolt, unaware she was even there, consumed by the
scene happening in front of us. “It’s barbaric.”
“They’re The Elite, he broke the rules.”
“What he did was illegal, they should turn him over to
the police. They’re kids, not gods, they don’t get to allow
people to break the law,” I blurt.
“They are gods, look at them, look at the power they
have, the way everyone wants them, wants to be them,” she
says, her voice breathy and reverent.
 “It’s wrong.”
“Stop being such a little bitch, Starling, they’re the
kings of the school and we’re their queens. We’re
untouchable now, next year we’ll be Elite. Stop being such
a brat and suck his dick, fuck him, let him do whatever the
hell he wants to do. God, I’ve already sucked off Evan, I’ll
do them all if that’s what they want. This is the dream.”
Wide eyed and appalled, I stare at the girl I thought I
knew so well. I know she wants to be popular, but to
condone this, to tell me to offer myself to these cruel boys
for status is baffling to me.
“Starling,” Sebastian calls, snapping my attention off
Courtney. “Let’s go get lunch.”
My feet feel frozen to the ground, and I know my eyes
are wide and full of fear, shock and realization. My plan to
embarrass Sebastian and force him to distance himself
from me suddenly feels pathetic. It wouldn’t work, because
Sebastian and The Elite are too powerful, too popular for
anything I could say to have an impact. He wants me and
until he stops wanting me there’s nothing I can do, other
than hope I survive.
Hopelessness consumes me as I step forward and take
Sebastian’s outstretched hand. “Don’t look at him,” he
demands, tipping my chin up with his finger when my eyes
go to Adrian. He’s still on the floor on his hands and knees,
his head lowered, despite the fact that the whole convoy
has stopped and is waiting for me.
Leaning into me, Sebastian presses his lips against my
cheek, before sliding his mouth to my ear. “He gave drugs
to an underage girl, then had sex with her when she was so
high on coke she couldn’t say no. This, what we’re doing to
him, is only the start of his punishment. The only reason
he’s not in the hands of the cops is because the girl doesn’t
want her name released to the media, which it would be if
she were to press charges. His family has enough money to
buy him off any charges they could make stick, but they’re
not rich enough or powerful enough to defy us.”
I feel myself nod, but I’m not sure if I’m agreeing with
him or just doing what I need to do. Either way, it seems to
appease him, because he presses a kiss to my lips, then
leads me to the front of the group as the guys all start to
move again.
When we enter the cafeteria, Sebastian turns to lead me
to the table Court and I sat at on the first day of term, but I
tug on his hand and shake my head. “It’s okay, we can all
sit together.”
His brow furrows in confusion. “Sitting at your table
with Courtney was part of our deal.”
“Were you going to let me sit there alone with her?”
“No,” he smiles mischievously, all of his anger from the
scene with Adrian gone.
“So there’s no point is there? Let’s just sit at your usual
table,” I shrug, turning toward The Elites’ table in the
prime location in the center of the room.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm and turning me to face
him.
“I’m hungry, can we just eat?”
His eyes narrow and he stares at me as if he’s trying to
figure out what I’m thinking. “Kiss me.”
I should argue, but what’s the point? After what he just
did to that boy and Court’s reaction to it, it’s even more
obvious how powerless I am against him. Instead of
fighting, I push up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his.

The next two and a half months are crazy. Sebastian has
ingratiated himself into every aspect of my life and the only
person who seems to think this is an issue, is me. My mom
adores him. She’s even started asking me what Sebastian
thinks every time she and I have an argument, and she’s
even started hinting that it would be okay if I stayed
overnight at his house as long as we slept in separate
rooms. Courtney is so caught up in the world of The Elites,
she’s strutting around school like she’s the queen bee,
hanging off Evan and Clay’s arms every moment she gets
the chance. The sweet girl who stayed friends with me even
though I was poor is nowhere to be seen. Sebastian, The
Elites and a shot at being the most powerful girl in school
has stolen her from me.
Even in all the time I’ve been ignored by my peers and
treated like I was beneath them, I’ve never felt as isolated
and alone as I am now. Sebastian has somehow created a
world where my life revolves around him. He’s taken my
best friend and even my mom from me, and now all that’s
left is him.
The hardest thing is that Sebastian isn’t treating me
badly, he isn’t abusive per se, he isn’t forcing me to have
sex with him, or being physically violent toward me.
Honestly if we’d gotten together under different
circumstances, I think I could actually like him. He’s
beautiful, popular, powerful and rich. But the moment I
start to soften toward him I remember that none of this is
my choice. He didn’t ask me out and I chose to say yes, he
told me I was his and forced me to go along with it.
In a matter of weeks, he’s taken over my life and stolen
every ounce of control from me and I hate it. I hate that all
of my choices have been taken from me and no matter how
many times I tell him or my mom or my supposed best
friend that this isn’t what I want no one cares. I’m
impotent, silenced and ignored and instead of growing
accustomed to the feelings there’s a simmering
melancholic rage that’s building and festering inside of me,
I’m as angry as I am hopeless and I don’t know what to do
to make me feel normal again.
 Everything that’s happening to me is his choice. He
wants me to be his, so I am. He wants me to go places and
do things, so he insists I do it and when I argue he
manipulates my mom or my only friend to coerce me to do
what he wants.
I’m a prisoner in my own life and no matter how loud I
shout or how honest I am, he’s stolen my voice. Day by day
it feels like I’m becoming more and more brittle, that
constantly being forced to bend to his will is slowly
snapping me in two. Winter break and Christmas with my
dad is the only bright spot on my horizon. Mom lost her shit
when I told her I planned to go to Maine for the holidays,
telling me I was selfish and childish and mean for leaving
her alone at Christmas. Miranda swooped in and saved the
day when she invited my mom to have Christmas at their
house with Clay, Evan and Hunter’s families too.
Sebastian was beyond pissed when he found out I was
going to visit with my dad, he even tried to invite himself
on the trip, but my dad shot him down. He said that as
much as he’d love to meet my boyfriend, this was our first
Christmas together in fourteen years and he wanted it to
just be the two of us.
Because winter break isn’t that long, Dad convinced my
mom to allow me to miss the last week of school so I could
spend more time with him. Today is my last day of
suffering, then tomorrow it’s sayonara Green Acres and
hello two weeks of blissful Sebastian-free time.
“Are you all packed?” Mom asks, her lips pressed into a
flat line as she leans against the doorframe in my room.
“Yep,” I say, nodding my head in the direction of my case
leaning against my closet door.
“Have you got your thermals, it’s probably going to be
snowing and below zero, you’ll freeze.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing the snow. I have plenty of
layers and Dad said he’s taking me to get a winter jacket
and anything else I need when I get there.”
 “You know you could have just gone to Vail with
Sebastian if you wanted to see the snow, the Lockwoods
offered to have the holidays in the mountains if that’s what
you wanted.”
“That was very kind of them,” I say through gritted
teeth. “But I’m not going to Maine for the snow, I’m going
to spend time with Dad.”
Mom rolls her eyes in a way I never saw her do before
she started spending time with Sebastian’s mom and her
friends. “Why would you want to spend the holidays with
your father in his tiny apartment, when you could be in the
Lockwoods’ beautiful home? Did you see how gorgeous
their Christmas tree is? I swear it’s got to be at least fifteen
feet tall, it’s just stunning. Sebastian is absolutely
heartbroken that you won’t be spending the holidays
together, Miranda told me he’d planned to use their jet to
come and surprise you on Christmas, until your father
refused.”
Closing my eyes and stretching my neck from one side
to the other, I hold in the words that are dying to fall from
my lips, but I know there’s no point. Mom won’t tolerate
me saying anything bad about Sebastian or any of his
family or friends. She’s completely brainwashed, to the
point that when Miranda suggested I only apply to the
college Sebastian is attending next year, my mom nodded
and agreed.
“Their tree is beautiful, Mom, but I already explained
that I’m looking forward to spending some quality time
with Dad. When I visit in the summer he has to work, but
he’s on vacation during the holidays and it’ll give us some
real time together.”
The front door opens and my mom literally leaps with
excitement, preening slightly as she smooths down her now
permanently straight hair and locks a wide smile on her
face. “That’ll be Sebastian here to pick you up for your
date,” she singsongs.
 “Hey, little bird, hey Cassidy,” Sebastian croons, giving
my mom a hug as he passes her on his way into my room.
Yep, you heard right, he just walks straight into our house
now without knocking, because according to my mom, our
casa is his casa and he can just treat this place like a home
away from home. “You ready, baby? I made reservations for
seven.”
“Oh my goodness, I’ve made you late. Starling, you
should have said something. I’m sorry, Sebastian, I was just
trying to convince her that we should accept your mom and
dad’s kind offer to have the holidays in Vail, instead of her
running off to Maine and leaving me all alone,” Mom says,
winking at Sebastian.
“I think that’s a great idea, we could go shopping for ski
stuff after dinner if you want?” Sebastian smiles.
“That’s okay, I won’t need ski equipment in Maine where
I’m spending Christmas.”
His scowl is glacial, but even though I’ve stopped trying
to prevent him from asserting his will on every other aspect
of my life, there’s no way I’m giving up the opportunity to
get away from him for two weeks. Mom pouts, yes, pouts
her annoyance and then waves to Sebastian and leaves.
“This is our first Christmas together; I want you to be
here with me. You and your mom can stay at my place and
we can wake up together on Christmas morning,” he
coaxes.
“No, this is the first time my dad has ever asked me to
spend Christmas with him.”
“Then I’ll come too,” he says from behind gritted teeth.
“He has a two-bedroom apartment, there’s no room for
you to come.”
“We can stay in a hotel, and you can spend your days
with him and your nights with me.”
“My dad would not be okay with me staying in a hotel
with you, Sebastian. Plus he lives in a really small town,
and the only hotel closes for the holidays. You know this,
because you suggested it yesterday and the day before
that.” I’ve never been more grateful that my dad lives in
the smallest, ugliest place in Maine, because I’m sure
Sebastian would have followed me regardless of me telling
him not to, if there was a decent hotel for him to stay in.
Luckily my stalker isn’t down for spending Christmas alone
in a roadside motel, which is the only place still open within
thirty miles of my dad’s house.
“You’re not going,” he snaps, his voice laced with steel
and unwavering determination.
“Yes I am.”
“No, you’re not. I fucking forbid it, Starling, you aren’t
going to fucking Maine.”
“You can’t forbid me from going to see my dad,” I say as
calmly as I can muster, my voice only cracking slightly as
nerves pool low in my stomach.
“I’ll convince your mom to make you stay, she’s on the
verge of doing it anyway.”
“My dad has joint custody of me, my mom can’t stop him
from seeing me and neither can you. Why are you doing
this?”
“Because you’re mine,” he roars angrily.
Every single one of my muscles tenses in response to his
anger. I don’t think he’d physically hurt me, despite his
manipulating and coercing, he’s never used his physicality
to get me to do what he wants. Adrian crawling through the
halls of GAA is enough of a reminder that Sebastian and the
other Elites are ruthless rulers, and submitting to them is
the only way.
“Sebastian,” I say calmly.
“I don’t want you to go,” he admits, his voice softening.
“It’s only for two weeks. Some downtime will be good
for us both, and you can spend time with your friends and
your family over the holidays. I’ll be back before you know
it.”
OceanofPDF.com
 PART 2

OceanofPDF.com
THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

OceanofPDF.com
 10

OceanofPDF.com
 STARLING

OceanofPDF.com
 TWO AND A HALF YEARS LATER

“A re you sure about this, honey?” Dad asks me for the

hundredth time this morning as I pull the zip closed on
my case.
“It’s my only option, Dad, you know that,” I reply with a
sigh. I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had this
conversation in the last five months. “Not only is it the only
school I got accepted to, but I got a full scholarship too.”
“I just worry about you, honey.”
Exhaling softly, I turn and look at my dad. “I know you
do, Dad, but Sebastian isn’t going to be there and Evan and
I can tolerate each other from a distance. It’s a big campus
and I doubt we’ll even see each other. I’m going to be a
freshman and he’s a junior, there’s literally no reason for
our paths to cross.”
Dad nods, but from the furrow in his brow I can tell he
doesn’t believe the bullshit coming out of my mouth any
more than I do.
A little over two and a half years ago when I boarded the
plane to Maine to visit Dad, everyone—including me—
assumed I’d be back in Green Acres after New Year’s. But
then I stepped off the plane in a different state and
breathed in the first full breath I’d taken since the first day
of school when Sebastian told me I was his.
 For the first time in months, I kept my own schedule and
relaxed. The more I relaxed the less I wanted to go home.
The first few days, Sebastian rang and video called me
relentlessly but the cell phone signal here is awful when
the weather gets bad and suddenly I was completely out of
his reach and it was awesome.
Spending time with my dad was great, Christmas was a
chilled-out day spent in our pj’s watching Christmas movies
and eating a turkey dinner off trays on our laps. It wasn’t
until a couple of days before I was due to fly home that I
realized I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want to go home.
The first panic attack took both me and my dad by surprise.
When he took me to the emergency room and the doctor
suggested he thought I was suffering with anxiety, I used it
as an excuse to extend my trip by a couple of days. My
plane tickets were transferable and school didn’t start for a
couple of days anyway.
The second panic attack came when Dad asked me if I
was looking forward to seeing my boyfriend. That was the
day I told him everything about Sebastian, about my mom
and Courtney. When he suggested I could move to Maine
permanently and live with him, I cried happy tears.
Mom lost her shit. She flew out to Maine, screaming and
shouting, yelling at me, yelling at Dad, it was a mess. When
I sat her down and told her I didn’t want to live with her
anymore, she told me I was behaving like a child and that
until I learned to grow up, I shouldn’t bother to call her. It
was over a year before we spoke again.
Sebastian came to see me several times, he told me if I
refused to come back he’d take away everything I loved. I
believed him, but what he didn’t realize was that he’d done
that already when he stole my mom and my best friend
from me. After six months and several changes of cell
phone numbers, he gave up. But he did what he said he
would, my relationship with my mom is broken beyond
repair and no matter how many times I reach out to
Courtney she’s never called or texted even once.
To make matters worse, six months ago, my mom got
remarried, to Evan’s dad, so now one of Sebastian’s best
friends is my stepbrother. Harry, Evan’s dad flew him, Mom
and Evan out here for a visit so they could let me know
about the engagement and I managed to be cordial to all of
them, but the ghost of Sebastian has tainted any kind of
relationship I could have with my new stepfather and
stepbrother. I went to the wedding, so did Sebastian, he
brought Courtney as his date. I managed to avoid speaking
to both of them, by only flying in an hour before the
ceremony and leaving right after the meal.
When it came time for me to apply to colleges, I planned
to stay near home in Maine, but Mom begged me to apply
to a couple of schools in Florida and because I’m a sucker,
and because I genuinely hate the fact that I only speak to
her on my birthday and Christmas, I did.
What I wasn’t expecting was to be rejected by every
school I applied to, even my safety schools. The only school
that did accept me was Kingsacre college, a private school
about an hour from Green Acres, and the one Evan has
been attending for the last two years. Not only did they
offer me a place at the school, but they also offered me a
full scholarship.
I’m pretty sure me sort of being a Morris—even if it’s
only by marriage—is the reason I got in, and the
scholarship is probably being entirely funded by Harry,
considering there was nothing spectacular about the solid
B grades across the board on my high school transcripts.
But when my only choice is Kingsacre or community
college, Kingsacre won out.
“There’s nothing wrong with community college, you
could stay home for the next year, go to school here, take
some classes and then transfer to a four-year school next
year,” Dad says, desperately.
 “I’m not a sixteen-year-old girl anymore, Dad. I’m going
to be nineteen soon, and I’m not going to be forced into
close proximity or have to have anything to do with
Sebastian. He was in a unique position of power at GAA so I
had no way of sidestepping him and honestly, maybe it
wasn’t as bad as I remember. Sure he was controlling, but
he never hurt me or pressured me into doing anything I
wasn’t comfortable with.” Except that one time where we
bartered over him seeing me naked, I think, but don’t say
aloud. Dad and I are insanely close now, but there was no
way I was going to tell him about Sebastian giving me
orgasms. In the most uncomfortable conversation in the
world he asked me if Sebastian had raped me and I told
him nothing like that had happened, that was the one and
only time we discussed it.
“What school did your mother say Sebastian was at?”
“Harvard, I think,” I tell him, then clear my throat. My
mom is still firmly team Sebastian, and on the rare occasion
I speak to her, she makes sure to always talk about him. I
usually wind the conversation up at that point, but she
takes pleasure in telling me all about how well he’s doing
and reminding me that I missed my chance with him. He
really did take her from me, just like he said he would.
“That’s good,” Dad nods, and I nod back at him. “And
your mom is meeting you at the airport to drive you to
school?”
“She offered, but I told her I was fine just to go straight
to Kingsacre.”
“Oh honey, I don’t want you moving in to your college
dorm alone, let me book a flight and I’ll come with you and
help you settle in.”
“It’s fine, Dad, I promise. You can’t take time off the boat
at this time of year and I can carry my own shit, I’m only
taking one case with me anyway.”
“I’m worried about you, honey,” he says solemnly.
“Remember there’s an open-ended return ticket in your
name saved on the airline account, all you have to do is
pick a flight and you can come on home whenever you need
to. You don’t need to wait for the holidays, you can just
come home, because this is your home and it always will
be.”
Tears fill my eyes and I launch myself at my dad,
throwing my arms around his neck and clinging to him. “I
love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, honey.”
In the years I’ve been living in Maine, my dad has
become my rock. He never once doubted my feelings or
actions, his belief in me is unyielding, and that means more
to me than he could ever understand. Living here has been
great. We moved to a cute two-bedroom apartment
overlooking the harbor about six months after I decided I
was staying, and I spent the remainder of my high school
years at the local public school.
The kids here are nice, and for the first few months I
tried to make friends, but when the girls I started to get
close to suddenly got friend requests from The Elite, and
expensive gifts through the post, I gave up. The fear that
Sebastian would swoop in and take away any friendships I
made kept me from forming any real bonds with anyone. In
the grand scale of things, the short time I spent as
Sebastian’s unwilling girlfriend shouldn’t have impacted
me as much as it has. But he fundamentally changed me,
shattered my trust in the people who were closest to me
and morphed me into the closed-off, emotional cacti that I
am now.
The only important person in my life is my dad, because
despite Sebastian’s best attempts, whenever he turned up
to lure me back to Green Acres, he could never influence
my salt-of-the-earth working-class fisherman father.
It may sound lonely to never make friends or have a
boyfriend at my age, but I’d rather be alone than have to
watch my family or friends abandon me in favor of a pretty
rich boy with a winning smile and a golden tongue. What
hurts the most is that he didn’t even have to try that hard
to steal Mom or Court from me. Mom switched from team
Starling, to team Sebastian the moment she stepped into
his family’s massive house, and Court was gone with a hint
at the popularity I had no idea she was coveting so hard. I’d
rather be alone than constantly worry that the people
around me are just waiting to betray me.
“Right, come on then, honey, let’s get you to the
airport,” Dad says, coughing to disguise the emotion that’s
filling his eyes with tears and reluctantly releasing me to
grab my case.
A shudder of fear rolls through me the moment I step off
the plane and into the Florida sunshine. Coming back here
was awful last time, but at least then I knew it was only for
a couple of hours. Now, I’m here to stay and it’s unlikely I’ll
get a chance to go home until Thanksgiving.
Closing my eyes for a moment, I inhale a deep, affirming
breath, then roll back my shoulders, pick up my case and
move to the line of people all waiting for cabs. Mom wanted
to pick me up, she kept saying that she deserved to be able
to take her only child to college. I almost agreed, until she
told me that Harry and Evan were looking forward to
helping me get settled. Hell no, I’d rather Evan have no
idea where my dorm room is. Not that I think my
stepbrother will want to have anything to do with me.
Evan, Clay and Hunter were all nice enough to me, but
they’re his, and I don’t want to be a part of anything that
will bring him back into my world. The cab drops me at the
bus station and I thank the driver and grab my case from
the trunk. It takes an hour to get to the closest bus stop to
Kingsacre, and then it’ll be about a ten-minute walk
dragging my case to the college campus.
Being a private college, I can pretty much guarantee I’m
the only freshman who’ll be arriving by bus and the closer I
get to the place, the more worried I feel. I hate this world. I
hate the rich and elitist, and here I am again, putting
myself into a position where I’m going to be forced to
interact with them and live with them for the next four
years.
Of course, in a place like Kingsacre, there’s no way any
of the rich kids that attend could imagine sharing a
bathroom with thirty others, so instead of shared dorms,
the kids live in houses on campus, where each room has its
own bathroom. It’s pretentious as hell, but I wasn’t exactly
going to say no to a private living space rather than having
to share air with a stranger. My dad offered to pay for an
off-campus apartment, but with no car and the campus
being twenty minutes away from the closest apartment up
for rent, it didn’t make sense for me not to take advantage
of the free room and meal plan that was part of my
scholarship.
My cheeks are red and there’s a fine layer of sweat
coating my skin when I finally arrive at the huge arched
gates that signal the entrance. Like I expected, there’s not
another person on foot in sight apart from the ones
climbing out of Ferrari’s, Porsche’s, and I think that might
be a Bugatti. I’m stepping back into rich-kid hell and for
the hundredth time since I got off the plane, I consider
using my return ticket and just going back home. There’s
nothing wrong with community college… right?
The honking of a car horn behind me startles me, and I
realize I’m literally standing in the middle of the road.
Hauling my case off the street and onto the path, I lift my
hand in a silent apology to the car whose path I was
obstructing as I turn and start to walk to where the valet—
of course this place has valet parking—is pointing people in
the direction of student registration. The megarich can’t
park their supercars just anywhere, obviously.
“Hi,” I say to a guy around my age wearing a white shirt
and a navy-blue vest with Kingsacre university
embroidered in gold thread on the pocket.
 “Good morning, miss, let me take your keys and I’ll give
you a ticket. When you need your car again you can take
the ticket to any of the valet points around campus and
someone will collect your vehicle and bring it to you.”
“Oh, er, I don’t have a car, I was just hoping you could
point me in the direction of freshmen registration.”
The guy stops, stares and then blinks at me. “You don’t
have a car?”
“Nope.”
“Did you come in a car service?”
“Er, no,” I laugh awkwardly, furrowing my brow.
“Then how did you get here?” He sounds baffled, like he
has literally no idea how anyone could possibly get through
the gates without a car or a car service.
“The bus.”
“The closest bus stop is like twenty minutes away.”
“I thought it was only about ten minutes, but I’d say it
took me closer to fifteen. Although I was kind of power
walking so I didn’t just turn around and go back to the
airport.” I have no idea why I’ve got verbal diarrhea with
this guy. Normally I limit my conversations with people to
polite and concise, but something about his sheer shock is
keeping me from shutting up.
“You caught the bus and then walked here alone, with
your case?” he says slowly.
“Yep,” I nod.
Scoffing lightly, his lips tip up into a smile. “I’m Angelo,”
he says, holding his hand out for me to shake.
“Starling.” I take his hand and shake it briefly, releasing
it quickly and pushing my hand into the back pocket of my
jean shorts.
“You’re not like the other kids that go here, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” I agree, dropping my chin to my chest and
staring down at my feet.
A honking horn interrupts what has turned into an
uncomfortable conversation. “I’ve got to get back to work,
but I work at the valet booth over by the cafeteria full time,
you should come see me one day, we could get coffee or
something.”
“Maybe,” I say as noncommittally as I can.
“Registration is on the lawn outside the administration
building, head on down this path and then swing a right,
you can’t miss it.”
“Thanks, nice to meet you, Angelo.”
“You too, Starling. You take care, you hear me? The kids
that go here can be sharks,” he warns with a warm smile
etched across his lips.
“Don’t worry, I know exactly how bad these types of
people can get,” I tell him sadly, gripping the handle of my
case and walking away.
“Welcome to Kingsacre University, freshman,” an overly
bright girl says from her seat behind a desk situated out on
the lawn under a gazebo.
“Hi.”
“Can I take your name please?”
“Starling Kennedy.”
Her brow furrows as she taps away at her keyboard.
“Hmm, when’s your birthday?”
“It’s September 4th.”
“I have a Starling Lockwood, birthday September 4th.
Have you changed your name recently?”
My blood turns cold and I freeze, all the breath in my
lungs suddenly evaporating. “My surname is Kennedy,
there must be some mistake.”
“Is Lockwood your husband’s name? It says here you’re
Mrs. Starling Lockwood.” Her chuckle is forced and
uncomfortable.
This must be some kind of fucked-up joke. Is this Evan’s
doing, messing with me on my first day? It’s been years,
and apart from the wedding I haven’t seen or spoken to any
of The Elite since the day before I left town. Why would he
do this now? It’s not like Sebastian was genuinely hurt by
me leaving, he was just angry to lose his control over me.
“I’m one-hundred-percent single, I’m eighteen,” I say
with a forced giggle.
“Wow, thank god. I was worried you were like Amish or
something. Give me one minute, I’ll just call down to
administration and have them double-check I’m giving you
the right house number. You want to let your parents know
it’s going to be a short wait?”
“I’m not with my parents, it’s just me.”
“Oh,” her brows lift almost all the way up to her hairline.
“Okay, I’ll just make that call.”
I nod, waiting awkwardly as she stands up, takes a few
steps away from the desk and lifts her cell phone to her ear.
She returns five minutes later, smiling. “All sorted, must
have been an admin error. You are most definitely the only
Starling at the school, cool name by the way.” Sitting back
down, she clicks at her keyboard again. A printer starts to
whir before she hands me a packet with some papers and a
hotel-style key card. “Okay, so your room is in Collinwood
House, suite five, which is all the way over on the far side
of campus. Orientation is at nine a.m. tomorrow where you
can pick up your schedule and get an itinerary for all the
freshmen activities. Give this”—she hands me a small card
with my name and Collinwood House suite five on it—“to
one of the cart drivers and they’ll take you and all your
luggage over to the west quad to get your student ID and
then to your house. If you have any problems or any
questions, the number for student liaison services is in your
pack. Also the annual welcome-freshmen party is tomorrow
night, in the woods behind the gymnasium. It’s huge and all
the freshmen go. I’ve marked it on your map, you don’t
want to miss it. Welcome to Kingsacre, Starling.”
With a polite nod, I grab my case and make my way to
the golf carts. An older man takes my card and loads my
case onto the back of the cart, before offering me his hand
to help me inside. I take it, not wanting to be rude, but
wonder who here needs a hand to get the twelve inches
from the floor to the seat in the cart.
We stop at another set of gazebos, and he helps me out
and waits while I have my photo taken for my student ID,
where I again have to explain that I’m not married and that
my name is not Lockwood. I hate that after all this time
Sebastian has invaded my life again with this cruel joke. It
can only be Evan who did this. He’s the only person I know
at Kingsacre, and the only one here who knows about my
short-lived, life-altering interlude with the Lockwood heir
apparent.
I wish I knew why he was doing this now. I’m not a part
of his or his dad’s life, I’ve never visited his house, or tried
to cash in on the Morris name. As far as I’m concerned,
Harry is my mom’s new husband and Evan is his son, and
that’s it. I’m happy that she’s happy, but given how strained
my and my mom’s relationship is, I have no interest in
being part of her world. I’d hoped that I could remain
distantly civil with my new stepbrother. Perhaps a nod in
passing, but this instant attack the moment I walk through
the gates, suggests that perhaps just pretending we have
no idea who the other is might be a better idea.
The website shows pictures of the campus housing, but
until now I haven’t seen it in person. I never had any
intention of going here, so I didn’t see the point in coming
to take a tour. Apparently the photo gallery didn’t do the
place any justice, because the houses are nothing like I was
expecting. The housing starts at about five minutes’ drive
from the campus buildings with a mini suburb made up of
rows of town houses. After that there’s a tiny village of
ranch-style homes, then a grouping of craftsman bungalows
with each of the houses in the little mini village getting
increasingly larger the farther away from the campus site
we get. By the time the cart slows to a stop, the houses are
huge and spread out, with giant gated driveways, some
even appear to have pools. Collinswood house is a massive
Queen Ann Victorian-style home complete with a turret,
spindle work and a wraparound porch. It’s gorgeous, and
imposing and it can’t be the place my scholarship funding
is allowing me to stay.
“This must be the wrong place,” I tell the driver when he
climbs out of the cart and reaches for my case. “No, wait. I
need to call student services, because I’m on a scholarship,
there’s no way that pays for me to stay in this place.
There’s been a mix-up with my name, so this must be where
whoever my file got confused with is supposed to live. I
don’t want to unpack only to have to pack up and move
when the person who’s supposed to be living here figures
out the mistake.” Pulling my cell from my pocket, I open
the packet, find the student liaison number and call it.
Ten minutes later, I step uncertainly up to the front door
and slide my key card into the scanner. The man in student
services assured me that this is where I’m living for the
next four years and that there’s no mistake—despite the
mix-up with my name, which keeps reverting back to
Lockwood on the file, even though he changed it to
Kennedy twice while we were on the call.
After protests that it must be wrong, I was passed over
to a manager who seemed surprised that I’d been roomed
in Collinswood, because apparently scholarship kids are
normally put in the town houses closest to campus. When I
asked to be moved to one of those, she laughed, asked me
if I was serious, then told me all the housing was full and
Collinwood House was the only room available if I wanted
to stay on campus.
The sound of a clock ticking greets me as I step inside
the palatial home. My eyes quickly roam over the space as I
inhale the scent of furniture polish and lemon cleaner. Dark
wood and Gothic grandeur surround me and for the
hundredth time in the last thirty seconds, I consider
running away and back to the comfort of mine and my
dad’s apartment. As I step inside, the front door closes shut
behind me and I startle, jumping forward and nearly
tripping over my case beside me.
Not wanting to invade private space, I step forward and
glance into the rooms off the main entrance hall. There’s a
living room, with comfortable-looking couches and a large
TV. A formal dining room that I doubt ever gets used in a
houseful of college kids, a massive kitchen with a glass-
fronted refrigerator full of beer, and an honest to goodness
library with a real fireplace and wingback chairs.
Climbing the stairs, dragging my case behind me, I find
suites one and two on the first floor and three, four and five
on the second. There’s a scanner lock on each door, the
same as the one on the front door, and I slide my card into
the lock on the room marked with a number five. It beeps
and the sound of a lock disengaging fills the silence.
Pushing it open, I find another set of stairs instead of the
bedroom I was expecting. Groaning at the thought of
carrying my case any farther, I grit my teeth and start to
climb. My room is located in the turret you can see at the
front of the house, it’s a vaguely hexagonal shape with a
metal-framed bed and dark wood furniture that looks great
against the walls that are painted a pale-blue color.
Wallpaper has been hung in panels on some of the walls,
and two doors lead off the room into what I’m assuming are
a closet and a bathroom.
Leaving my case in the doorway, I step toward the
window and stare out at the view. From this high up, I can
see the neighboring couple of houses and the campus off in
the distance. I might not feel like I should be living in this
huge, expensive house, but there’s no way I’m going to
complain about this room; it’s stunning.
Opening the first door, I find a huge closet with more
space than I could fill in a lifetime, let alone with the single
case I’ve brought to school with me. The second door
reveals a bathroom, with teal-blue walls, white tile and a
claw-foot tub.
A smile spreads across my lips. This might not have
been my first choice school, Evan might have tried to mess
with me today, and I might be living in a house with kids
rich enough that I’m sure they’ll hate me on sight. But this
room makes it all worthwhile. This place will be my
sanctuary.
Grabbing my case from beside the door, I lift it onto the
bed and unzip it. All of the housing at Kingsacre comes
fully furnished and with a maid service, so the bed is
already made up with beautiful, soft, duck-egg-blue cotton
sheets. In comparison, my case looks ratty and out of place.
I lift my things out, making piles of clothes, toiletries,
books and so on. By the time it’s empty, the whole bed is
covered. Closing my case, I lift it up, glancing around the
room, searching for a place to stash it that won’t be in my
way. I do a double take when my gaze lands on the
wallpaper. Dropping my bag to the floor I take a step closer
to the wall, my heart beating double time as I lift my
fingers up and run them over the images.
Bird cages, gold ornate bird cages, imprisoning tiny
little brown birds. My hand shakes as I snap it back to my
chest. It’s the same paper that was on the wall in the
bedroom at Sebastian’s house. Could this be the most
fucked-up coincidence in the world? Wallpaper is generic,
it’s not like the stuff on the walls at Sebastian’s house was
made specifically for him. That could easily explain it being
here in my room, couldn’t it?
Except this, combined with the Mrs. Starling Lockwood
bullshit doesn’t make it feel coincidental. It feels
orchestrated. I had the audacity to run from the GAA Elites
and Sebastian Lockwood. Could they still be holding a
grudge years later? And if they are, would they go to this
much effort to frighten and unsettle me?
 The truth is, unless I want to pack my things away in my
bag and go back to Maine, there’s nothing I can do other
than let things play out and see what happens. There’s no
one left in my life for them to use against me. My
wonderful, humble, sweet father has proven that he has my
back, and I don’t have any friends or boyfriends they can
use to punish me with. I’m all alone, just like Sebastian
wanted me to be. If they try to ruin college for me then I’ll
just leave, like I did before. I’m not above embracing a
strategic retreat if that’s what I need to do.
With a contingency plan in place, I shove my case
beneath my bed and one pile at a time, I unpack all of my
stuff into my new beautiful bedroom. The next time I get off
campus I’ll buy some fabric to hang over the wallpaper so I
don’t have to stare at tiny captive birds, but until then I’ll
ignore them, just the way I’ve ignored him and all
memories of him for the last two years.
The sound of a door slamming downstairs reverberates
through the house. It appears at least one of my new
housemates is home. I know I should go down and
introduce myself, but after the day I’ve had so far, all I want
to do is sleep and hopefully dream about my stress-free life
by the sea in Maine.
When I wake up, it’s dark and my stomach is growling
with hunger. I have no idea what time the cafeteria serves
food until, but judging by my internal body clock, it’s late,
or perhaps early. Grabbing my cell phone from where I set
it to charge on the bedside cabinet, I check the time.
Two thirty a.m. Fuck, I’ve slept for like eleven hours,
that’s one hell of a nap. Blinking awake, I let my eyes roam
over the unfamiliar room. There’s a faint woody scent that’s
vaguely familiar but I can’t quite place it. I’m beneath the
covers, but I remember falling asleep on top of them, I
must have gotten cold at some point during my epic nap
and got into bed properly
 My bladder protests and I slowly climb out of bed and
pad to the bathroom, not bothering to turn the light on and
instead just fumbling about in the dark. My clothes are
clinging to me and my skin feels clammy, so I turn on the
shower, quickly strip, and step beneath the warm stream of
water. There’s something about showering in the darkness
that’s oddly therapeutic and I sigh, exhaling. I don’t
remember my dream, but the pulsing between my thighs
says it must have been a dirty one. It’s a myth that women
don’t have wet dreams, we do, we just wake up hot and
bothered, not in a puddle of our own jizz.
Deciding to relieve a little of the tension my dirty
fantasy has left behind, I slip my fingers between my thighs
and run them through my slippery folds. My clit is a little
swollen and I shudder as I rub my fingertip over the
sensitive ball of nerves. Thanks to my entanglement with
Sebastian, I’m more than a little gun shy when it comes to
guys, hence why I’m still a virgin at almost nineteen. That
doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to get myself off.
Pushing first one finger, then two into my sex, I slowly start
to fuck myself, closing my eyes and relaxing into the
pleasure I’m causing.
An unwanted image of Sebastian touching me like this
flashes into my mind and I try to force it away, but instead I
remember the way it felt when he pinched my nipples,
rubbed my clit and made me beg him to make me come.
Even years later, it’s still him that makes my sex heat and
pulse with desire. I’ve tried to push his image away, but no
matter what I do, when my eyes are closed and I’m
touching myself, it’s only him I see.
My legs buckle and my body jerks as I come on a pained
cry, feeling his touch, the heat of his lips on my neck. I’ve
tried watching porn, tried imagining someone else in his
place, but in the end the thing that tips me into ecstasy is
always him.
 Needing to banish him from my thoughts, I turn the
water down until a torrent of freezing cold liquid douses my
heated skin. I don’t want him to be the thing that turns me
on, when I’ve fought so hard to get away from him and his
terrifying intensity.
When I’m chilled to the core, I turn off the water and
wrap myself in a fluffy white towel, blotting the dripping
liquid from my hair as I make my way over to my closet. I
know I should get into pajamas and try to get back to sleep,
but with my mind full of thoughts of Sebastian, I know
there’s no way I’ll get any more peace tonight.
Dressing in fresh underwear, running shorts and a
sports bra, I slide my cell phone and key card into my
running armband and push my AirPods into my ears. I don’t
want to piss off the housemates I’ve not even met yet, so I
carry my running sneakers in my hand as I pad barefoot
down the stairs and out onto the second-floor landing,
It’s dark and quiet, if my housemates were out partying
last night, they either haven’t come home yet, or are all
passed out drunk in their beds. Either way, I try to stay as
silent as I can as I make my way down to the front door and
let myself out.
The cool night air surrounds me and I inhale deeply. On
the one and only time I’ve been back to Florida since I ran,
I felt like I could never get a full breath of air, like my lungs
just don’t work properly here. But this is where I’ll be
spending the next four years, so I need to get used to
surviving here, and that starts with learning to breathe
again.
Kingsacre is still a complete unknown to me, after
texting my dad to tell him I’d made it here safe, I glanced
at my campus map for less than five minutes before I fell
asleep. Now I’m standing in the front yard, trying to
remember if the golf cart had approached the house from
the left or the right?
 Opening up my maps app on my cell, I add a pin on my
current location, this way if I do get completely lost then I
can use the pin to figure out how to get back to the house.
Huge gates block the entrance to the driveway and as I
approach them, I try to see if there’s a button to press or
something, but as soon as I’m within about twenty feet of
them, they slowly start to open as if they’re on a sensor.
While I wait, I lift first one foot, then the other up behind
me, stretching my muscles. Once the gap in the gates is
wide enough, I walk through it and down the asphalt road
that meanders through the campus housing.
The feeling of being watched washes over me and I still,
letting my eyes wander from side to side before I turn and
look back at the house. It’s in darkness, there’re no lights
on in any of the bedrooms. Shaking my head, I twist my
neck from one side to the next, then take off in a slow jog.
Before moving to Maine, the idea of running would have
made me laugh, but when I literally ran away from my life,
I was so worried and anxious that Dad suggested I try
burning some of my frenetic energy away with exercise.
The first run was ridiculous, I lasted about half a mile
and by the time I got home I was coated in sweat and
breathing so hard I thought I might pass out. On my second
run I realized that while I was concentrating on putting one
foot in front of the other, my mind was blissfully silent.
Desperate for that quiet, I started running every day and
now I do a few miles in the morning and sometimes in the
evening as well if I’m struggling to turn off my thoughts.
Some people say you can’t run away from your problems,
but I disagree.
Hitting play on my cell phone, music starts to play
through my earphones. I don’t run to heavy dance tracks or
songs with a fast beat, instead I run to a soundtrack of
calming rain forest sounds, thunderstorms and classical
chill-out stuff. It doesn’t help me run any faster or farther,
but instead it calms and soothes me.
 After a mile or so, I find my groove, increasing my pace
and lengthening my stride. This is the best part, when your
muscles are loose, your mind is empty and you’re running
for the sake of running. The road is lit with streetlights, and
I stay out of the shadows, doing my best to be safe even
though I’m stupidly running alone at nearly three in the
morning.
Most of the houses are dark, except for a few where the
lights are blazing and drunk kids are littered on the grass
of the yards, music blaring through open doors and
windows. Perhaps in another life I might have been one of
those kids enjoying a party on my first night of college, but
not now. The me I am now would rather run alone in the
dark than be around all those people.
It’s another mile before I reach the main campus
buildings and I run through the quad, across the lawns and
out toward the main gates I entered through yesterday.
There’re still people in the valet hut where I spoke to
Angelo, and I wonder if the ridiculous college valet service
is available twenty-four seven.
“Starling?” a voice calls out as I run past the hut,
planning to head out onto the road.
Startled to hear my name being called, I slow to a stop
and turn around, finding Angelo half hanging out of the
hut. “Starling, is that you, girl?”
“Hey,” I pant.
“What the hell are you doing out on your own at this
time of night?” he asks.
“Running.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” he laughs.
“I had like the world’s longest nap and woke up an hour
ago. I couldn’t get back to sleep so I figured I’d get a run in
while it was quiet and learn my way around the campus.”
Angelo shakes his head and sighs. “Girl, you take the
bus to get here, walk your ass through the gates, and now
you’re running on your own in the middle of the night. It
might seem like it should be safe on a campus with kids
this rich, but it’s not. These people think that the laws don’t
apply to them, you need to use that pretty little head of
yours.”
“I’m more than aware of how the type of kids that go
here think,” I say, bitterness lacing my tone. “I appreciate
your concern, but I’m fine.”
“Well, I kind of have to disagree, you’re heading out
onto the street in the dark, without a light in dark colors.
You’re an invisible target.”
Dropping my gaze down to my black bra and shorts, I
shrug a little sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s probably not a great
idea. No worries, I’ll head around the buildings and do a
circuit back to my house.”
“Where’s your suite?”
“Collinwood.”
His eyes widen and he jolts back a little. “Collinwood?”
“Yep, I asked if it was a mistake too. There’s been a bit
of confusion over my name and I’m still pretty much
convinced I’m in the wrong room, but student services
insist I’m not. Anyway, I should get moving before I cramp
up. Thanks for stopping me from ending up as roadkill,” I
say, smiling as I wave and set off.
Traversing the admin buildings and the gymnasium, I do
a loop around the library and science block and end up
panting and gasping for a drink in front of the cafeteria.
The kitchens are in darkness, but the vending machines are
working and I grab myself a bottle of water, loving that my
key card can be used as a cashless payment card as well.
Checking my smartwatch, I’m impressed to find that I’ve
already done five miles and my legs still feel fresh, or at
least strong enough to get me home again. Opening the
water, I take an eager pull, moaning in pleasure when the
cool liquid soothes my throat and quenches my thirst. The
feeling of being watched again prickles across my skin and
I lower my drink and slowly look around, trying to find the
identity of the voyeur, but just like at the house, I’m alone.
Being this close to Green Acres must be messing with
my mind, add in Evan’s unwarranted trick with my name,
and apparently paranoia is my new best friend. Shaking
away the feeling, I take another pull from my water and
then push off back toward the house as the sun starts to
rise.
I get a little lost on the way back and by the time I press
my card against the small foot gate I hadn’t noticed at the
side of the huge double gates, I’ve run nearly twelve miles.
My legs are heavy and my breathing is labored, but my
mind is clear and I’m smiling. Until I started running, I’d
always scoffed at those annoying athletic people who say
you get endorphins from exercise, but it’s true. After a run
I’m always happy and even here in this school I don’t want
to attend, with my stepbrother who is apparently still
holding a grudge, I’m still excited for the rest of the day
and the start of my college experience.
There’s no sign of life from the other people in the house
when I step through the front door, but it’s barely five a.m.
and most normal people are still asleep at this hour.
Slipping my sneakers from my feet, I pad into the kitchen,
pour myself a glass of water and then silently make my way
back to my room.
I know I’ll be tired later if I don’t get any more sleep,
but I don’t want to go to bed and lose this buzz I’m feeling
right now. Deciding to shower and get ready for my first
day, I waste the next hour nervously primping, then decide
I’ll take a slow walk back to the cafeteria which opens for
breakfast at seven.
The sun is high in the sky when I walk out of the gate
again, my backpack slung over my shoulders. I glance
down at my outfit and decide there’s nothing wrong with
my denim shorts and cropped tank top. It’s casual, and
came from the only outlet mall near my dad’s place, but it
fits nicely and shows off my toned stomach and legs.
Dad’s day starts about three a.m., so I know he’ll be up
as I dial his number and lift my cell to my ear. “Hey honey,
are you excited for your first day?”
“Hi, Dad, I’m not exactly excited, but I got a good run in
this morning and I’m feeling more optimistic than I was
yesterday.”
“How’s your dorm room? And your housemates?”
“When I got here, they had me registered under Mrs.
Starling Lockwood.”
“Lockwood,” Dad says, “isn’t that…” he trails off.
“Sebastian’s surname, yep. I’m guessing it’s Evan’s
attempt at a fucked-up joke. But I got it sorted out. My
room is ridiculous. The scholarship kids normally live in the
town houses that are on the website, but my room is in the
turret of this enormous Victorian mansion. I’m pretty sure
I’ve been put there by mistake, but when I asked to be
moved to one of the town houses they said they’re full, so
it’s either stay where I am or move off campus.”
“Could Harry or your mom have paid for a better room
for you?” Dad asks, his voice laced with concern.
“I guess they could have, I hadn’t thought of that, but it
makes sense, wouldn’t look good for Harry Morris’s
stepdaughter to be slumming it in the cheap rooms,” I
mock derisively.
“What about your housemates?”
“I haven’t met them yet. There’re five rooms in the
house and judging by the refrigerator full of beer, I’m going
to guess that at least one of them is a guy. But there was no
one there when I got there yesterday, and then I fell asleep
and pretty much slept from yesterday afternoon until this
morning.”
“Well I’m sure you’ll get a chance to meet them this
afternoon after your classes.”
 “There’s no classes today, it’s all meet and greet
orientation stuff, then there’s a big party tonight to
welcome all the freshmen.”
“Sounds fun, but be careful if you’re going to a party.
Don’t take a drink from anyone, always make your own
and”
“I know, Daddy, I’ve seen all the teen movies where girls
get their drinks spiked, and I have those Rohypnol testers
you gave me. I have no intention of going tonight anyway,
you know parties aren’t my thing,” I assure him.
“Honey,” he sighs.
“I should go, you need to get back to work and I need to
eat, I slept through dinner last night and I’m starving.”
“Okay, have a good day and call me later.”
“I will. Love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, honey.”
After ending the call, I feel both better and worse. I miss
him already. He’s become my safe haven and being this far
away from him and knowing I won’t see him again for
months has me on the verge of a panic attack. Inhaling
sharply, I concentrate on walking and will the rising tide of
anxiety to fade.
Rationally, I know that the short two and a half months I
spent with hurricane Sebastian shouldn’t have had as big
an impact on my life as they did. He didn’t rape me, or
really physically hurt me. But in an instant, he took over my
life completely and it scared the shit out of me. He refused
to acknowledge my wants or desires unless he could use
them to manipulate me into doing what he wanted and
what was worse is that no one questioned him. Not my
mom or my friend, not his parents or the kids at school. No
one ever considered that I wouldn’t want him, so the idea
that I was unhappy and overwhelmed never even crossed
their minds.
I hate him for destroying my trust in people, because
that experience fundamentally changed me and I’ll never
get to be the person I was before him ever again.
Despite the early hour, there’re still plenty of other kids
spilling from the houses as I pass, some look hungover, but
others have an air of excitement over a new school, or new
year.
“Morning,” a gleeful-looking girl says, sideling up beside
me with her hands holding on to the straps of her
backpack.
“Morning,” I reply, not wanting to be rude, but wishing
I’d already put my AirPods in so I could pretend not to hear
her speaking to me.
“I’m glad I’m not the only person up this early. I was so
excited I just couldn’t sleep. I’ve been up since five trying
to decide what to wear. Do I look alright? I didn’t want to
go too preppy, but then I was worried I’d look like I was
trying too hard if I wore anything dressy or like a slob if I
wore anything too casual.”
“You look fine,” I say, taking a cursory glance down at
her white tennis-style pleated skirt and pale-blue polo shirt.
She looks incredibly preppy, but I don’t say anything.
“I’m Samantha, but most people call me Sammy.”
“Starling.”
“Wow, that’s such a cute name. My first college friend is
a girl with a cute name, how cool is that?”
Forcing a smile to my lips I offer it in her direction, not
slowing my pace, despite the fact that I can see she’s
having to walk quicker than she’s comfortable with to keep
up with me.
“What are your housemates like? There’s six other
people in my house, three girls and three guys, they’re all
couples. It’s odd, but okay. I heard a lot of sex noises last
night,” she chirps.
“I haven’t met mine yet.”
“How come?”
“No one was there when I got here yesterday and I
crashed pretty much as soon as I unpacked. They were still
asleep when I left this morning.” I say with a shrug.
“That’s a shame, I bet they were all excited to meet
you.”
Not speaking, I wait for her to walk away, but instead
she stays at my side, carrying the conversation without me
needing to speak as she prattles on about everything she’s
excited about. When we reach the cafeteria and I grab a
tray, she’s at my side, then we’re sitting at a table and I
haven’t said a word in more than ten minutes, but I’m not
sure she’s noticed.
“Shall I come to your place tonight, or do you want to
come to mine?” she says and then pauses, smiling widely.
“What?” I splutter.
“For the party?”
“I’m not going to any party.”
Her lips part and her mouth falls open. “You have to go
to the freshmen welcome party, everyone goes.”
“No thanks,” I say dismissively, cutting off a piece of
French toast and lifting it to my lips.
Sammy’s talking but I’m not paying any attention as the
feeling of being watched hits me again. That’s the third
time since I got here yesterday that I’ve gotten the feeling
of being observed and it’s starting to freak me out.
“Hey,” I interrupt.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I know I talk too much. I’m sorry, it’s just
that I’m so nervous and excited,” she says, talking at a
million miles a minute.
“Is there anyone looking over here?” I ask, interrupting
her again.
“Like who?”
“I don’t know. I keep having this feeling like someone is
watching me.”
“Oh I hate that,” she says, carefully glancing around the
room. “I can’t see anyone, but it’s getting pretty busy in
here now.”
 For the first time since she appeared at my side, Sammy
falls silent and I take a moment to actually look at her. Her
hair is a rich black color, pinned up on top of her head in a
high ponytail that swishes across her shoulders. She’s
classically pretty, with warm-brown eyes and a smile that
screams nice. She’s the type of person who I would
probably have made friends with when I was younger, but
now I feel too jaded and shuttered to be around her.
“I appreciate the invite, but I don’t like parties;
truthfully I’m not really a big fan of people in general. I’m a
loner without all the emo melancholy,” I say, trying to
explain why I’m going to get up and leave in a minute and
then never speak to her again. There’s a pang of longing
for a friend in my chest, but I shut it down. Court was my
ride or die, until she wasn’t, she threw me over for
popularity and I’m still hurt by it. I have no interest in
befriending a stranger.
“Well that’s okay, we don’t have to go to the party, we
could just hang out instead,” Sammy suggests hopefully.
“That’s sweet of you, but you should go to the party,
meet people, make friends, find a guy and hook up. Don’t
waste your time on me, I’ll only drag you down.” Picking up
my still mostly full tray I stand up and leave, keeping my
coffee, but dumping my food in the trash before walking
out of the cafeteria, never once glancing at the kind girl
who wanted to be my friend.
Wandering for a few minutes, I end up in the quad
where the orientation is being held. The lawn is perfectly
cut, the meandering paths clean and full of students.
Finding a tree, I sit down at its base, resting my back up
against the trunk and slide in my AirPods, watching the
world go by as the dulcet tones of Adele fill my ears. I know
I’m a walking cliché—wounded girl listening to angsty love
songs alone after having just walked away from the chance
of a new friendship—but honestly I don’t care. Maybe I am
actually a loner with all the emo angst, all I know is that I’d
rather be alone, it’s safer that way. There’s no one to lose if
there’s no one there in the first place.
Orientation is boring, the excited energy that seems to
bounce around the congregated kids slides off me like
water off a waxed car. All of the happiness I’d found after
my run has faded and I’m ready to go back to Collinswood
and sleep for the rest of the day. Classes officially start
tomorrow and I join the line to collect my schedule,
wondering why in this day and age they can’t just email it
to me.
“Name?” the guy at the desk asks.
“Starling Kennedy.”
His fingers move across the keys. “Starling Lockwood?”
“Nope Kennedy, the surname is a screwup in the offices,
they keep changing it to Kennedy and it changes right back
to Lockwood,” I say, hating that I’m having to explain I’m
not a Lockwood again. Evan is an asshole for doing this.
Maybe the first time it was amusing to him, and hurtful to
me, now it’s just annoying.
“I’ll have to call student liaison services to double-check,
we don’t want you attending the wrong classes he says with
a sigh.”
“Go ahead, speak to Brenda, she’s the one who’s
changed it the twice it’s happened already,” I say, rubbing
at my temples with my fingers.
Desk guy pulls his cell out and proceeds to have the
same conversation with Brenda that the registration and ID
people did.
“Starling.”
Spinning around at the sound of my name, my mouth
falls open when I find Courtney standing behind me,
flanked on either side by two beautiful preppy-looking girls.
All three of them have matching sneering smiles plastered
across their faces.
“What the hell are you doing at Kingsacre?”
 The hostility in her voice surprises me. I mean, I wasn’t
expecting a hug, but I’ve literally never done anything but
be a good friend to Courtney. She’s the one who abandoned
me, not the other way around.
“Hey, Court, I er, I didn’t know you were coming to this
school. What happened to Princeton?”
Her brow furrows and she scoffs. “Princeton is for ugly,
rich geeks and poor people, do you even know how many
nobodies go there? Kingsacre is exclusive, which is why I’m
wondering what the hell you’re doing here.”
“I’m beginning to ask myself that exact question,” I
reply.
“Okay, Starling, Brenda confirmed that for some reason
your records keep changing back to Mrs. Starling
Lockwood no matter how many times we amend them,” the
orientation guy says, sliding back into his seat behind his
table.
“Lockwood,” Courtney scoffs. “Are you seriously trying
to use Bastian’s name to get ahead?”
“Nope, just Evan’s idea of a joke,” I say quietly.
“Evan’s a darling, although they all are really. We had
quite the reunion when they all came back this summer, it
was just like old times.”
“Fun,” I say through gritted teeth, as I’m reminded all
over again that she gave me up for them so easily.
“I always have fun with Bastian, we have so much in
common, our parents play golf and we’re practically
neighbors. Our children will be unstoppable,” she tells me
with triumph in her tone.
“I’m sure they’ll be delightful,” I offer dryly.
“God, you’re such a bitch. I have no idea how someone
so low class can think so highly of themselves. Just because
your mom sucked Evan’s dad’s dick and got a ring on her
finger doesn’t make you anything but a gold-digging
whore’s daughter. He offered you the world and you threw
it back in his face. But just because you’re back, don’t get
any ideas about trying to claw your way back into his bed.
He’s mine now.”
Smirking, I try to swallow the laugh that bubbles up
from my throat, but I just can’t contain it and I throw my
head back and bark out a loud laugh that probably makes
me sound like a crazy person. Courtney and her friends eye
me like I’m insane, and maybe I am, but the idea that I
might actively seek Sebastian out is ridiculous. “Oh my
god, I needed that. Thanks, Court, it’s been so fucking
great seeing you again.”
Rolling her eyes dramatically, she looks me up and down
and then purses her lips as though she smells something
unpleasant. “Whatever, bitch, just stay away from all of
them, especially Bastian.”
Saluting her sarcastically, I turn my back on her. “Well
okay then,” the guy behind the table who just listened to
her call my mom a gold-digging whore and me a bitch says.
“Here’s your schedule,” he says, sliding a printed piece of
paper and a map across the table toward me. “So we are
here,” he marks an X on the map showing the quad we’re
standing in. “You’re mostly taking required courses this
semester so your English, history and humanities-based
courses are in this building.” He highlights the courses on
my schedule in pink and then circles a building on the map
in the same color. “Your math, politics and eco are in this
building, he does the same with these classes in blue. Here
is the cafeteria, gymnasium and pool and all of the
administration offices are over here.”
By the time he’s finished, my schedule and map look like
a three-year-old went to town on it with a box of
highlighters, but I don’t want to be here longer than I need
to be so I just pick up the papers, nod, thank him and leave.
It’s only a little after eleven a.m., but with no classes
today and no real interest in meeting new people, signing
up for any clubs or societies or running into Courtney
again, I grab a couple of prepacked sandwiches and three
bottles of water from the cafeteria and start to walk back to
the house.
“Hello, little sister,” a voice says from behind me a
moment before a heavy arm lands across my shoulders.
Freezing, I snap my head around and find myself looking
up at Evan, a smug smirk etched across his face.
“Jesus, it’s like blast-from-the-past hell,” I mutter.
“Hello, Evan.”
“Got to say, sis, I’m disappointed you haven’t come to
say hi, we are family after all.”
Shrugging, I dislodge his arm and then step to the side
and out of his reach. “We’re not family, our parents just got
married, that doesn’t make us”—I motion between us
—“anything.”
“Harsh,” Evan laughs. “Your mom is my mom now, that
makes us siblings.”
“Stepsiblings at best, and it hardly counts when we live
in different states and don’t spend any time together.
You’re my mom’s new stepson, and we’re just people who
went to the same high school for a few months.”
A look, that if I didn’t know better I’d say was hurt,
flashes across his face. “She misses you.”
“Who?”
“Your mom. She misses you.”
“She chose not to speak to me for a year, not me.”
“You left.”
“I don’t want to discuss this with you. It’s none of your
business,” I snap, increasing my pace and hoping he’ll
leave, but instead he just walks quicker, staying at my side.
“Of course it’s my business, she’s a good person, she
didn’t deserve you treating her like that.”
Stopping, I spin around to face him. “I’m glad she’s with
your dad, I’m glad she’s happy and that you and she have a
good relationship. That was all made easier by me not
being in the picture, so I’ve actually done you a favor. My
relationship with my mom ended when your friend told me
if I left him he’d take everyone I loved away from me. He
won, he did take her away, but she let him. So this is where
we are. My choice, his choice, her choice, they led me here
and her to your dad. I was happy living with my dad, she
was happy falling in love and getting married. Everyone’s a
winner.”
“Starling”
“Look, Evan, it is what it is. We’re not family, we’re
definitely not friends. I’m assuming my mom asked you to
look out for me or something, but you don’t need to. I’m
never going to tell anyone you’re my mom’s husband’s son,
and you don’t need to worry about me trying to cash in on
your name here, because I won’t, ever. So how about we
just pretend like we’ve never met and if my mom asks, then
I’ll tell her we have lunch together once a week, or
something.”
“Starling.”
“What, Evan?” I ask wearily, rubbing at the headache
that’s starting to form behind my eyes.
“We could be friends.”
I scoff. “No, we couldn’t.” Forcing my feet into motion, I
walk away, pushing my AirPods into my ears and turning up
the volume as Eminem blasts loud and angry, fueling my
steps with more vigor and my heart with enough bravado to
not look back.
My head is pounding by the time I slide my key card into
the scanner on the front door and stumble inside. The
stairs feel insurmountable, but I’d rather struggle to get to
my room, than crash in the living room and be found by the
housemates I’ve yet to meet.
Each step makes my brain rattle, my eyes blur and the
ball of tension I can feel in my neck worsen. When I finally
mount the top step and spot my bed, I crawl on top of the
comforter and then collapse in a heap, my backpack still
over my shoulders.
 “Urgh,” I moan as I force myself upright, letting the bag
slip from my shoulders and fall haphazardly to the floor.
There’s a bottle of pain meds in the bathroom, but the
thought of getting up and walking there makes me feel ill,
so instead I slump down onto the mattress, close my eyes
and try to push all thoughts of Evan, Courtney, Green
Acres, my mom and Sebastian from my mind.
“Wake up, little bird.”
The softly spoken, familiar voice curls through my mind,
wrapping around my brain like vines hanging from a tree.
My eyes flutter open and for a moment, I swear I can see
him, standing at the end of the bed, his face hidden in
shadow, but then I blink and when I open my eyes a
millisecond later, he’s gone, an unwanted figment of my
imagination.
It’s twilight, the sun’s starting to set, casting patterns
through the window and across my room. It’s pretty and I
glance out of the glass, admiring the dying orange embers
that are highlighting the horizon.
My head feels better, but my neck is stiff and my mouth
is dry. I’ve slept the day away again and forgotten to eat.
My stomach feels hollow when I remember the last proper
meal I ate was the last dinner I shared with my dad two
days ago. Rolling into a sitting position, I swing my legs
over the edge of the bed and head for the bathroom,
relieving my bladder before washing up and grabbing the
bottle of painkillers from the counter, tipping two into my
hand.
Making my way back to the bed, I grab my backpack
from where I dumped it earlier and take out one of the
bottles of water, using the liquid to swallow the pills before
drinking the rest of the bottle. I eat half the sandwich, but
the bread is dry, the salad limp and the chicken kind of
mushy so I ditch the rest into the trash can.
For the first time since I got here yesterday, I can hear
noise from inside the house. My housemates are downstairs
and even though I really don’t want to, I should go down
and at least introduce myself to them. Assuming we all pass
our classes, we could be living together for the next four
years, so I need to make an effort to at least be on a polite,
friendly basis with them.
My mouth feels disgusting, so I brush my teeth and
smooth down my hair. It used to be almost to my butt, but
since I moved to my dad’s I had it cut off to my shoulders. I
used to love my hair, now it’s just long enough to tie up and
apart from occasionally straightening it, I rarely fuss with
it.
I glance at my outfit. It’s a little rumpled from sleeping
in it, but I really don’t care. If these people dislike me
because I’m a little creased, then it’s just one more reason
to stay away from them.
Grabbing my cell phone and key card, I slide my feet
into flip-flops and head downstairs. The sound of music
seems to be coming from the kitchen, so I slowly make my
way toward it, not allowing the trepidation I’m feeling to
send me running back upstairs to hide in my room. All I
have to do is introduce myself, be polite for five minutes
and then I can escape again.
When I step into the kitchen I spot someone leaning into
the refrigerator. It looks like a guy and when he
straightens, it’s obvious that it’s a he and he’s tall.
“Er, hey, I guess you’re one of my housemates,” I say.
The guy turns and my mouth falls open. “Hunter?” I
gasp.
His smile is soft and despite his size, he’s never felt as
dangerous as the others, even though I’m sure he could be.
“Hello, Starling.”
“What…?” I trail off.
“You didn’t think we’d let you live all alone on a campus
full of strangers did you, sis?” Evan says, stepping out from
behind me and moving to take a bottle of beer from Hunter.
 “We couldn’t get you to come home, so we thought we’d
bring home to you,” Clay announces cheerfully as he steps
past me.
“No,” I murmur, shaking my head. “You don’t go here.”
“What, Mom never told you?” Evan taunts. “Maybe if
you’d spoken to her a bit more often she’d have mentioned
that we decided to finish out our junior and senior years
together.”
“All of us,” Clay says with a wink.
My hands ball into fists at my sides and I close my eyes,
trying to make this a dream, or a nightmare or anything
that means it’s not true. Except it is true, and no matter
how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut when I open them,
they’re all still going to be here and so is he, because when
Clay said all of them, he meant him too.
“Hello, little bird.”
I want to be strong. I try to be strong but at the sound of
his voice, my legs give way and I end up on my ass on the
ground. Curling my legs into my chest, I scuttle across the
floor until my back hits the cabinets, then I bury my face
against my knees and cover my head with my hands. “No,
this can’t be happening, no, no, no.”

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 11

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 SEBASTIAN

S he’s beautiful, more so than she was the last time I was
close enough to touch her. Her body has matured over
the last two and a half years and instead of a girl, she’s all
woman. The soft curves I loved so much have gone and
she’s almost painfully slim and toned. Her hair is shorter,
but still a pretty color, and I have to fight the urge to reach
out and tug a strand, to reel her back to me.
I watch as Hunter reveals himself and she tenses, her
fingers clenching into fists. When Evan announces his
arrival, her back goes ramrod straight and by the time Clay
steps into the room, she’s shaking her head.
The moment Evan taunts her with the knowledge that
we’re all here I see her breath hitch. I’ve waited over two
years for this moment, over two years to get her away from
her dad and back into my world. Not that she was ever
really out of my reach. If I wanted to, I could have taken
her at any point, but that’s not what I wanted, I wanted her
to come back to me willingly. Only she didn’t, not when I
chased her, not when I gave her space and not when I
showed her I could ruin her and take away all the people
who were important to her.
All except her dad, that is. Before she went to visit him,
I’d thought of him as a nonentity, not a player in the game.
I was wrong, and no matter how much I’ve tried to
influence him in the last two and a half years, nothing has
worked. As much as I hate to admit it, I admire the man
and his unwavering loyalty to his daughter.
“Hello, little bird,” I call, stepping up behind her.
I expect her to look at me, then try to run, but instead,
at the sound of my voice she drops to the floor, scuttles
back until her spine is flush with the cabinet, curls into a
ball and starts to rock as she chants “no, no, no,” over and
over again.
The others look to me, but I’m as clueless as them. This
was supposed to feel victorious. I won, she’s here, she’s
mine again, and this time I won’t allow her another chance
to escape. But seeing her on the floor, broken, this isn’t
what I want.
As I stand there staring at her, Evan rushes to her,
dropping to his knees beside her and reaching out to touch
her. The moment his fingers touch her, she freaks out. Her
agonized scream is gut wrenching and then she’s gasping
for air, her head snapping up as her face goes flush and she
grabs at her throat, a wheezing, wretched sound coming
from her that’s barely human.
“She’s having a panic attack,” Hunter says, opening the
drawers and rooting through until he finds a paper bag and
rushes over to her. “Starling,” he says softly, drawing her
attention to him, while her lips turn slightly blue and
choked noises fall from her parted lips. “You need to
breathe into the bag. Slow, easy breaths, okay? I’m not
going to touch you unless you need me to hold the bag.”
Shaking her head she grabs the paper from him,
screwing the top of the bag up in her hands and holding it
to her mouth.
“Slow and easy,” Hunter says calmly. “Breathe in time
with me. In and out.” He does exaggerated breathing,
kneeling just far enough away that he’s not touching her,
but close enough to pull her attention completely onto him.
“That’s it, good girl, in and out.”
 After what feels like an hour, but is probably only ten or
so minutes, Hunter rests back onto his heels and the
tension releases from his body. “How are you feeling?
Better?”
Her eyes are wide and watery, the bag still covering her
mouth, but she nods.
“Good, keep breathing in and out and I’ll grab you a
bottle of water.” Standing, he moves slowly, taking a bottle
of water from the refrigerator and then sliding back down
onto the floor, holding it out to her.
Tentatively she reaches out and takes it, her eyes
moving from him, to Evan and Clay and then to me. I hate
that what’s in her eyes when she looks at me isn’t lust or
want, it’s fear. She’s scared of me, she’s scared of all of us,
but she was upright until I spoke to her.
Hunter reaches out and she flinches, jolting away from
him as if she’s expecting him to strike her. “I’m not going to
hurt you. I promise, I just want to check your pulse that’s
all. I need to see if we need to take you to the emergency
room.”
“I’m fine,” she says, her voice croaky and weak.
“Little bird, you’re not fine. I’ll call Dr. Harris.”
“No,” she shrieks, shuffling farther away from me and
scrambling to her feet.
Hunter sends a glare in my direction, but his expression
softens when he looks back to her. She never knew they
watched her for the year before I claimed her. My friends
were almost as angry as I was when she didn’t come back
from her dad’s. She left all of us, she just had no idea they
would be hurt by that. “Starling, all I need to touch is your
wrist. My two fingers on your wrist, that’s all, I promise I
won’t touch you anywhere else.”
Her eyes flash to me and then around the kitchen before
she shuffles along the counter to the right, moving behind
Hunter and positioning him so he’s between me and her.
From this angle, I can only see half of her as she cautiously
lifts her wrist and offers it to my friend. Just like he
promised, he takes her pulse, then immediately lifts his
hand away and steps back, giving her some space.
“Your pulse is still high, but your breathing seems
steadier and the blue tinge has gone from your lips. I think
we should take you to the hospital, just to have you
checked out.”
She shakes her head. “There’s no point, Dad took me the
first few times I had them and all they do is keep me under
observation for a night, charge me thousands of dollars
then send me home and tell me to try and reduce my stress
and anxiety,” she tells him, her voice barely more than a
whisper.
I knew she’d had panic attacks when she first moved to
Maine, but I assumed when there were no more hospital
visits that they’d stopped, it never occurred to me that she
just stopped going to the doctors.
“You’re going to the hospital,” I demand.
“Bastian,” Evan says, shocking me.
“She needs to go to the fucking hospital, her fucking lips
were blue ten fucking minutes ago,” I shout.
“Bro,” Clay says.
“No, this is bullshit, if your woman couldn’t breathe and
was turning fucking blue we’d be on the way to the damn
hospital by now, no questions asked.”
While I’ve been ranting, Starling has moved to the other
side of the kitchen island, putting a whole expanse of
counter between us, like she needs a physical barrier to
stop me from getting closer to her.
“Look at her, Bastian,” Hunter says quietly. “She’s
fucking terrified.”
“Why are you here?” she asks, surprising me.
“Where else would I be?”
“Harvard,” she whispers, then coughs, the sound raspy
enough that I take a step forward, the urge to drag her to
me almost overwhelming. “Mom enjoyed telling me about
how successful you’ve been there.”
There’s a hint of derision in her tone that reminds me of
the way she used to sound when she enjoyed fighting with
me, playing with me.
“Cassidy is proud of all of us, she calls us her surrogate
sons,” I tell her, smirking. “We’re all like one big happy
family now she’s a Morris, she really relied on us after you
abandoned her.”
“So I’ve heard, I’m glad she has a support network,” she
says quietly. “Why are you here, Sebastian?”
“Because you’re here, where else would I be?”
Exhaling shakily, her lips pinch together and she smiles
sadly. “Haven’t you done enough to me? We dated for a
couple of months over two years ago. It wasn’t serious, we
never had sex or declared our undying love for one another.
You never even asked me if it was something I wanted, you
just declared that I was yours and took over my life. I
rejected you, so you single-handedly destroyed my
relationship with my mother and took my best friend from
me. Isn’t that enough? Surely your ego wasn’t that badly
bruised by my not wanting you that you’re still looking for
revenge all these years later? You win, okay? If you want
me to leave, I’ll go. If you want me to cut all ties with my
mom, then fine, I’ll do it, we have no relationship now
anyway. Just tell me what you want because I don’t want to
play these messed-up games with you again.” She’s trying
to sound strong and confident, but her body is literally
vibrating, tremors racking her limbs.
“You,” I say simply.
“What?”
“I want you.”
“Why? Is it just because I don’t want you? Surely I’m not
the only girl who’s said she’s not interested?”
“You’re mine, Starling, you’re my little bird and you
always have been, since the moment I laid eyes on you on
your first day at GAA. I waited a year to even find out your
name, then as soon as you were a sophomore, I made you
mine. You might have run from me and I might have
allowed it, but you’ve never been free, little bird. I’ve kept
you tethered the last two years, let you think you could fly
away, but you couldn’t, the only place I’ll ever let you fly is
back to me where you belong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Ever had that feeling like you’re being watched?”
She visibly tenses despite her trembling, and I smile.
“That was your security detail. Since the moment you
left Green Acres and boarded a plane to Maine for
Christmas, there’s been a team of men following you. Every
thing you’ve done, every place you’ve gone, every person
you’ve spoken to, it’s been reported back to me.”
“No,” she gasps.
“All the days you waited for your dad to go out on his
boat before you cried yourself to sleep, I knew about. All
the times you’ve been asked out on dates or to parties I
knew about. When the doctor offered to put you on birth
control and tried to get you to take anti-anxiety medication,
I knew about it.”
She shakes her head as a single tear rolls down her
cheek.
“I knew every school you applied to, so I’d know which
admissions officers I needed to bribe into rejecting you. I
made sure Kingsacre was your only option, I even awarded
you the Lockwood scholarship so you’d feel obliged to come
here rather than let your father take out a second mortgage
to pay for school for you, just in case you were accepted
elsewhere.”
Tears flow freely down her cheeks now, and I have to
restrain myself from hauling her to me and licking them off
her skin.
“Every step you’ve taken it’s been controlled by me,
orchestrated to get you exactly where I wanted you to be.
Here in this house, under my roof, under my control, mine.”

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 STARLING

I t can’t be true, it can’t be. He’s a kid, a rich kid but still
just a kid. He doesn’t have access to a security team and
even if he did, why the hell would he have them following
me around? What would be the point?
“Why?” I ask.
“Because you’re destined to be mine.”
“But I don’t want you, I don’t want any of it. Pick a new
toy to obsess over, one who wants you back.”
“You do want me, Starling.”
I shake my head. “I don’t, Sebastian. I don’t want you. I
don’t want to be yours, I don’t want a present or a future
with you, all I want is for you to forget I exist.”
“Did you know you say my name in your sleep, you
dream about me,” he tells me casually like I haven’t just
told him I want nothing to do with him.
“They’re nightmares, not dreams. You stalk me, stealing
every bit of sunshine in my life until I’m suffocating in the
darkness and then I die, begging you to leave me alone,” I
confess, not bothering to try and sugarcoat how he haunts
my subconscious.
His eyes fall closed for a second and when he opens
them again, they’re harder, and full of steely determination.
“I’ll make you want me again.”
 Grimacing, I force a pained smile to my lips. “I never
wanted you, Sebastian.”
“Then you’ll learn to fucking pretend,” he yells, stalking
toward me, and grabbing my upper arms in an unyielding
grip as he leans down and kisses me.
His lips slam against mine and he forces his tongue into
my mouth, kissing me with a punishing force that I loathe
but which ignites something inside of me that’s been
dormant since the last time he touched me.
My body threatens to wilt into him, but I force myself to
stay ramrod straight, not lifting my hands to reach for him,
or reacting to him at all. His growl of frustration is almost
gratifying enough to make me smile, but I keep my lips flat
and unmoving, not wanting him to think he’s done
something to warrant my happiness.
“Kiss me back,” he growls.
Staying still I let him kiss me, but give him nothing in
return. I want him to know that he might be able to take
from me, but I won’t willingly give him anything.
Pulling away from me, he runs soft fingers over the skin
at the back of my neck and I fight back a whimper. “I
preferred your hair when it was long; when I could wrap
my hand around it and tug on it,” he says, gripping a thick
strand of hair and pulling until I whimper.
“I like it short,” I whisper.
The room is silent except for me and Sebastian but I can
still feel the other guys’ presence, they’re still here,
watching this all go down.
“You all live here, in this house?”
“Our families own it,” Clay says.
“Of course they do,” I nod, exhaling.
“I should go.” Before I can complete a single step,
Sebastian tightens his hold on my hair and yanks me back
to him.
“Go to our room.” He smiles, his gritted teeth not hidden
by the composed front he’s trying to exude.
 “No.”
“Little bird, you either go to our room, or you stay
locked in your own room until I decide you can come out.”
I glance up at him for a minute, then nod. “I’ll take
prison, I’ve become accustomed to loneliness and isolation
the last couple of years.”
With a sharp tug, I yank my hair free of his hold, trying
to hide the grimace of pain from my expression as I pad out
of the kitchen. I manage to walk slowly until I’m out of
sight, then I practically sprint out the front door, not caring
about my belongings, just needing to be away from here,
away from them, him. There’s nothing here that I’m not
willing to abandon for my freedom. Reaching the foot gate,
I place my key card against the scanner but nothing
happens. Snapping my head to the side, I glance around
nervously, knowing they’ll be following me soon, but the
gate remains closed as I tap my card against it again and
again.
“I’ve deactivated your card for the external gates and
I’ve turned the motion sensor on the main gates off too,”
Sebastian says calmly.
My shoulders slump as I slowly turn around to find him
standing at the door, his hands casually placed in his
pockets.
“So I’m not going to be allowed to go to class?”
“You can go to class, you’ll just be escorted there and
back with either me or one of the guys.”
“Why do you want me so much? Is it the rejection that
turns you on?” I ask as I give the gate and my escape one
last glance before turning and stomping toward the house.
“I like to own things, now I own you. It doesn’t matter
what you think you feel right now, eventually you’ll admit
you want me just as much as I want you, until then your
cage will just get smaller and smaller until you do as you’re
told.”
 The smile on his face is bright and warm and in
complete contrast with the cold and menacing nature of his
words, he’s crazy, completely insane and the next time I
run from him, it needs to be much farther away than just
Maine.
He doesn’t try to stop me when I barge past him and
climb the stairs, not slowing down until I’m in my bedroom.
The beautiful room suddenly feels much smaller than it did
when I left it less than an hour ago. How in such a short
space of time can my world have gone from tentatively
hopeful to desolate? Sebastian threatened to lock me in
here, but he must be bullshitting me. He’s crazy, but surely
he’s not that crazy? Rushing back down the stairs, I pull on
the door, but nothing happens, it’s locked. He actually
locked me in here.
Panic threatens to overwhelm me again, when my cell
beeps with a text, distracting me. Dad hates texts, he says
his fingers are too big and that it takes him too long to type
out a message he could say in seconds during a phone call,
so it’s unlikely that it’s him. It could be Mom, but we really
only have a birthday and Christmas kind of relationship
these days, I don’t remember the last time she texted me.
Walking slowly back up to my room, I consider calling
my dad and telling him about Sebastian, but if I do, he’ll
get on a plane and come here and I have no idea what
Sebastian will do to him if he does. He’s clearly unhinged
and until I can figure out a way to run from him, there’s no
point allowing my dad to get within his firing range.
There’s an unread text on my cell and I click into it.

Bastian: Dinner is in twenty minutes

A hysterical laugh falls from my lips. Of course his

number is now saved in my cell. He’s stalked me for the
last two years, manipulated my life, orchestrated things so
I’m living with him, locked me in my bedroom and now he’s
texting me when dinner’s going to be ready, like it’s a
normal meal and nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
He’s insane, like certifiably insane and I’m stuck here,
being controlled by his whims until I can get away from
him. For a moment I wonder if the guys will help me, then
laugh as the ridiculousness of that thought hits me. They
must have known what he had planned, they must have
helped him, or else why would they all be here too? My
stepbrother is condoning his friend keeping me prisoner
and no one in this house will help me, no matter what he
does to me.
Maybe I just need to play along. I’ve run from him
before and it didn’t work, apparently it didn’t even dent his
desire for me. If anything, me leaving might have made his
infatuation more intense. Perhaps if I give him what he
wants he’ll get bored. I’m the one that got away, the great
white whale and everyone knows that not having something
you desire always makes it feel more special and it’s not
until you have it that you realize it’s not as good as you
thought it was.
Resolved, I decide it’s time to fight fire with fire. He
wants his little bird, I’ll give him a fucking flamingo.
Stripping out of my clothes, I change my underwear for a
pretty matching set my mom sent me as a gift last
Christmas, fluff up my hair and coat my lips in sparkly red
gloss. I look like a girl ready to get fucked, but this is what
he wants, isn’t it? Me willing and ready.
Pulling out my cell, I type out a message.

Me: What are we eating? I’m starving

His reply is instantaneous.

 Bastian: Pasta. I was expecting you to refuse to eat
with us.
Me: **Shrugging emoji** Lemons, lemonade, I’m
hungry and I hate cooking.

I wait for him to reply, but when nothing comes through, I

climb off the bed, walk down the stairs and push at the
door. It swings open and I inhale, then force a smile to my
lips as I step out onto the landing in nothing but my bra
and panties. Not pausing to give myself a moment to run
back to the relative safety of my room, I add an extra bit of
sway to my hips as I descend the stairs and sashay into the
kitchen.
There’s a sharp inhale of breath from someone as I
stride into the room, prance over to the table where all of
the guys except Clay are sitting, and plop my ass down into
Hunter’s lap.
“What the fuck?” Sebastian growls, taking hold of my
wrist and dragging me off his friend’s lap.
“Oh something smells good,” I hum, not reacting to the
painful hold he has on me, or the horrified look on the other
boys’ faces.
“Where the hell are your clothes?”
“Upstairs,” I grin. “Didn’t seem much point putting on
clean stuff, especially as I figured I’d be fucking at least
one of you before the end of the night. This way I don’t
even have to get undressed, you can just pull my panties to
the side.”
Hunter chokes on air, his eyes going wide with shock as
he tries not to look anywhere but at my face.
“Starling,” Sebastian barks, lifting me onto my feet as
he stands up, tugging his shirt off and dropping it over my
head. “Cover yourself up.”
 “Why?” I ask, furrowing my brow exaggeratedly,
pushing my arms through the sleeves and covering my bra,
then pushing my panties off my hips and bending over in
front of Sebastian’s face as I slip them off my feet.
“Sebastian always said I smelled good, what do you think,
bro?” I ask, throwing my balled-up panties at Evan, hitting
him square in the face.
“Starling,” Sebastian shouts, grabbing me and actually
shaking me violently.
“This is what you want isn’t it?” I demand, sliding my
hand up the back of my shirt and unclasping my bra, before
I rip the shirt and bra over my head and drop them to the
floor. “The four of you have me here, I’m a prisoner to all of
you, I might as well be naked, that way you can all see if
I’m worth the effort of holding me hostage. I’ve been told I
give a good blow job, and that my pussy’s nice and tight,
but if you take turns I imagine by the time whoever goes
last slides in I’ll be pretty stretched out,” I say with a
smirk.
“Get some fucking clothes on,” Sebastian demands.
“No.”
“Now,” he snaps.
“Why? This is what you want, so here I am, naked and
waiting, but if I get to pick, I think I want Hunter to go
first, he was nice to me earlier and I think I hate him the
least out of the four of you. Is there going to be a rotation?
Will it be one day each and then orgies Friday and
Saturday and I get the day off on Sundays?”
Yanking my arm out of Sebastian’s grip, I straddle
Hunter’s lap and kiss his shocked lips before he has a
moment to protest about the naked girl sitting on him.
Seeing me kissing his friend must be making Sebastian
absolutely crazy, he’s as possessive as they come and I
think it stands a chance that he might never speak to
Hunter again because my pussy has been pressed against
his thighs, my tits against his chest and my tongue in his
mouth. I know how much he’ll hate the fact that I just said I
wanted anyone but him to fuck me first, that I chose his
friend instead of him.
Good, I hope it haunts him, that when he goes to sleep
tonight all he can see when he closes his eyes is the girl
he’s obsessed with, naked with someone else.
When I’m dragged from Hunter’s lap, it’s with so much
force it feels like my shoulder is being ripped from the
socket. I hit the floor with a thud, tumbling onto my ass
before I fall backward and my head bounces off the
hardwood.
“Get out, all of you, get the fuck out,” Sebastian
screams.
“Bastian,” Evan says, his voice placating.
“Get out.”
“Dude, you need to”
“Do not tell me what I need to do with my fucking
woman,” Sebastian growls, interrupting Evan, his eyes
hard and burning with anger and fury as he glares down at
me on the floor at his feet.
“You’ll hate yourself if you hurt her,” Hunter warns
quietly.
“Oh I’m going to hurt her,” Sebastian threatens, leaning
down and lifting me up off the floor as if I weigh nothing
before slinging me over his shoulder. “I’m going to hurt her
and she’s going to fucking beg for it.”
My stomach hurts as I bounce against his shoulder as he
sprints up the stairs until we reach the door beside my
own. It’s not locked and he pushes inside, closing it behind
us, before he lowers me to the floor and then takes a step
back.
“Do you think it’s funny to rub your naked cunt all over
my friend?”
I can’t help it, some of his crazy must have infected me
because I smile. “I think it’s fucking hilarious, because
once you’ve done whatever you plan to do to punish me and
you go back downstairs to your friend, you won’t see him,
all you’ll see is me, completely naked, willingly grinding on
his hard dick while I tongue fucked his mouth, and you’ll
know that the only way I’ll do it to you is if you force me.” I
have no idea where my words are coming from. I have
literally never spoken like this in my life, but I’m so angry
and scared and out of control that all I want to do is have
him experience just a glimpse of the pain he’s caused me.
Bracing myself for his violence, I’m not expecting soft
hands to lift me off the floor and gently place me on the
bed. I’m too shocked to fight before he’s climbing down on
top of me, his hand pressed between my breasts with
enough force to immobilize me as he pushes his hand
between my thighs and thrusts two fingers into my pussy.
I scream, grunting with pain at the intrusion, I’m angry,
not turned on, and his fingers feel thick and full as he pulls
them all the way out of me, spits onto them and then slams
them back into me again, his saliva only making my body
accept them fractionally easier.
I scream and thrash beneath him, but he doesn’t even
pause long enough to allow me to adjust, he fucks me
slowly, forcing his fingers up to the knuckle then pulling
them all the way out, before thrusting them back into me
again. Without uttering a word, he roughly slams his lips
against mine and kisses me animalistically, and I hate
myself when I feel my body start to react to his touch.
I hate him, I hate him so much and yet my pussy
becomes slick the more aggressively he fucks his fingers in
and out in time with his tongue in my mouth. It doesn’t take
long before my body heats and tenses for an impending
orgasm, but as I’m on the edge, he pulls his fingers free
and abruptly stops kissing me.
A groan of frustration slips past my lips and he smirks,
running his tongue along the length of my neck before he
nips at my earlobe. I expect him to release me, but instead
his hand slips between my thighs again, only instead of
filling me he seeks out my clit, circling it with the tip of his
finger. He rubs slowly until I’m panting and arching my
hips, seeking out his touch, then when I’m on the precipice
of coming he pulls his finger away and I cry out in
frustration.
A sly grin slides onto his mouth as he blinks, looking
down at me like a predator does when it knows it has its
prey completely at his mercy. I cry out when his thick
fingers fill me again, pushing me to the edge and refusing
to let me fall. Over and over he works me up, then stops
until tears are running down my face and I’m writhing
beneath his impenetrable hold, my chest tight and feeling
bruised from how hard he’s pinning me down.
“Please, no, please,” I beg as his thumb leaves my clit
and I cry out. The sound that falls from my mouth is
desperate, almost a mewl as I try to lift my hips off the bed,
following him as he leans away, begging him to allow me to
come.
“You don’t want me. You want Hunter. You want to rub
my cunt all over my brother.”
“Please,” I choke out.
“Please what?”
“Don’t stop.”
“Ask me,” he orders
“Make me come.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Please, please, please,” I chant.
“The only way you get to come is on my dick.”
Two fingers fill me again and I almost splinter, just at
the feeling of fullness. My body is so worked up, my
muscles are itching and burning with the need to release
some of the tension he’s built with this awful game of tease
and deny.
“Your muscles are so fucking tight I can barely move,”
he taunts.
“Please,” I pant.
 “I’ll give you a choice, little bird, you can go back to
your room and sleep, but you don’t get to come or you can
take my dick and earn as many orgasms as you can before
you pass out from pleasure.”
A better girl would run while she had the chance, but
right now there’s nothing but want consuming my body. No
matter how much I hate him, I can’t deny that my thighs
are slick with my arousal and my skin is so hot and taut I
feel ready to explode if I don’t get some release soon.
“Please,” I whine, releasing my hold on his hand that’s
still pinning me down.
“Do you want me to fuck you, little bird? Do you want
my cock in you so deep you can taste my cum at the back of
your throat?”
I nod and his smile is wicked.
“Arms above your head, hold on to the headboard.”
I do as I’m told, lacing my fingers through the slatted
wooden headboard and gripping tightly. Shuffling
backward, Sebastian climbs off the bed and slips off his
jeans and boxers, his dick popping free and bouncing up to
hit his stomach. He’s big, bigger than I remember, the head
red and dripping precum as he climbs back onto the bed
and crawls between my parted thighs.
“Condom,” I croak as the wide head touches my
entrance.
“No,” he says, pushing forward and letting the tip of his
cock slide into my soaked core.
“I’m a virgin,” I cry, fear making me tense and grip down
on the head.
“I know,” he smirks, slamming forward and breaking
through my virginity with a brutal thrust.
I scream in pain, the searing burn so much more intense
than I imagined. Without even pausing, he moves, fucking
me viciously as his hands hold my hips tight enough to
bruise. The pain barely has a chance to fade before his
thumb is on my clit and he’s forcing me into an orgasm, my
body exploding, my muscles jerking and twitching.
“Good girl, now I want you to come on my cock,” he
snarls, tilting my hips and reigniting the sparks his fingers
had ignited earlier. I come again with a cry, but he just
keeps on fucking me until the pleasure and pain become
one and my eyes start to roll back in my head. “Another
one, little bird,” he orders, working my clit until a third,
agonizing orgasm splinters, leaving sharp shards of bliss in
its wake.
My body goes lax, too exhausted to do anything but lie
there as he holds me up, his hard dick slamming
mercilessly into me again and again.
“You’re not done yet, Starling, you either come again
with my cock in your cunt or I’ll shove it into your ass and
you can learn what it’s like to have your tight little asshole
fucked raw.”
“I can’t,” I moan.
“You can and you fucking will,” he growls, sliding his
dick from me a moment before he flips me onto my
stomach, drags my ass into the air and forces his dick back
into me again.
A pained whimper falls from my lips as his dick fills me,
feeling even bigger and harder from this angle.
“That’s it,” he groans, slowly pulling almost all the way
out, then slamming back in again with so much force my
stomach slides farther up the bed with each thrust. When
his fingers find my nipples, pulling and tugging, I come
with an agonized cry, the orgasm so painful that I whimper
with each shudder of pleasure.
His thrusts become erratic and he groans a deep
masculine sound as he shudders and fills me, hot bursts of
cum coating my sex. For an agonizingly long moment
neither of us speaks or moves. Eventually, he slides his dick
from inside of me and I slump down onto the bed, too
exhausted to do anything but pant for breath. Lifting my
hips, he slides a pillow beneath me, propping me up as he
moves to the end of the bed.
“Fuck, little bird, your cunt is swollen and gaping, with
my cum dripping out of it,” he says tauntingly, as I glance
over my shoulder and find him kneeling between my legs,
his phone out and aimed at my sex.
“Sebastian,” I gasp, trying to roll to the side and hide
myself.
“Don’t fucking move,” he warns, gripping my hip and
keeping me in place as he aims the cell between my thighs
again. “I want to remember this moment, my cum, mixed
with your virgin blood.” Probing fingers stroke between my
folds, then slowly push inside of my tender channel. “You’ll
take all of my cum from now on, Starling, it’s all for you.
Your cunt, your ass or your mouth, I won’t lose a drop, all
of it will end up inside of you. You’ll be my wife and my cum
slut, I’ll worship the ground you walk on and then pin you
to our bed and force my dick into your cunt while you snarl
and fight. I’m going to fuck you so often my cum’s going to
be dripping out of you all day every day. Your panties are
going to be permanently soaked with a mixture of our
arousal so you’re always wet and ready for me to take.”
Tears escape my eyes and coat my cheeks. I’m angry
that instead of pissing him off and hurting him with my
behavior tonight, I ended up naked in his bed just like he
wanted. My body is humming with the pleasure that he’s
wrung from me and as much as I hate it, I love it in equal
measure.
I’m sore and yet weirdly relaxed, it’s not a sensation I’ve
ever experienced before and I don’t really know how to feel
about it. The bed dips to the side of me, then an arm curls
around my waist, pulling me back into Sebastian’s firm
body.
“I won’t let you go, Starling, I couldn’t two years ago
and I never will, not now I know how it feels to be inside
you.”
 “I’m on birth control, although you already know that,
don’t you?”
“Not anymore, I removed them from your luggage
earlier.”
“You can’t decide that. I’m eighteen, I’m not even sure I
want kids and I definitely don’t want any now.”
“I want a houseful of babies that look just like you, so we
might as well get started now.”
“What about what I want?” I ask quietly.
“The moment you ran away from me years ago, what you
want stopped being important. I gave you a chance to come
back to me, to be worshipped and adored, but you didn’t.
Now you’ll do as you’re told and perhaps I’ll let you earn
back some of the freedom that’s under my control,
eventually.”

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 13

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 SEBASTIAN

E ven though she’s naked, in my bed, my cum dripping out

of her cunt, it still feels like she’s too far away. I’ve gone
over two years without touching her, and now that she’s
here I won’t ever let her go again, even if she hates me for
it.
Since she ran from Florida and me, it doesn’t feel like
I’ve taken a full breath, not being able to see her, to control
her, to own her was like being a prisoner in my own psyche.
I hadn’t realized how much I needed to have complete
control of her until it was ripped away from me and now, I’ll
do whatever it takes to never have to be without her again.
Somewhere in the back of my head I thought she’d be
happy to see me, that she’d fall in with my plans for us
without question. The rocking, crying and panic attack I
wasn’t expecting. She’s not the same sweet, quiet girl she
was when she left GAA, she’s different, but I don’t want her
any less. In some ways she’s broken, in others she’s
stronger than ever and despite her reluctance, I want her
more than I ever did before.
My arms are wrapped around her, probably a little
tighter than they should be, but it feels as if I give her an
inch of space, she’ll hide herself behind her wall of hurt
and I won’t allow her to put distance between us. I don’t
regret taking her virginity, it was always mine, it has been
since she was fifteen, but a part of me wishes it hadn’t been
in anger.
The moment she strode into the kitchen in nothing but
tiny panties and a bra, the night was always going to end
with my dick rammed inside of her, but when she took off
her clothes and kissed Hunter, my sanity dissolved and I
became nothing more than fury and fire.
Perhaps tomorrow when bruises mar her flawless skin,
I’ll feel some remorse, but I doubt it. I like the idea of
marking her, I did it in high school to punish her and tell
everyone that she was mine and now my dick has been in
her cunt I want to plant a flag in her womb and fill it with
my kid.
I’ve never not used a condom before now and it was
fucking glorious. I don’t care what she wants, now I’ve felt
her wrapped around my cock, there’s no way I’ll ever put
anything between us. Until now she’s been on an oral birth
control, but I took the supply of pills from her room when I
was in there yesterday, and I won’t be allowing her to
renew it. Her medical records show it was only prescribed
to stop her from getting pregnant, not for anything else so
she’ll be fine without it.
Her fingers touch my hand around her waist and I smile
to myself, until she starts to try to lift my arm. “What are
you doing?”
“I need to pee and then go back to my room.”
“This is your room now.”
Her sigh is weary, and there’s a shakiness to the sound
that warns she’s close to tears again. “Does it matter that I
like my room and don’t particularly want to share with
you?”
“No.” I chuckle, I know this isn’t a funny moment, but I
can’t help but be amused by her.
“If you’re keeping me here, the least you can do is let
me pee so I don’t get a UTI, and then feed me, I really am
hungry.”
 “If you hadn’t decided to try to use Hunter as a pole,
we’d have eaten the dinner Clay cooked for us by now.”
Her own laughter rattles through her chest, as she
chuckles lightly.
“You think it’s funny?” I snarl.
“Tragically so.”
Fury races through my body and my muscles tense so
quickly I swear I feel them become so taut I’m worried
they’ll snap. “If my brothers ever see you naked again, I’ll
bend you over and fuck you right there in front of them. I’ll
fill your pussy, your ass and your mouth with my cum and
I’ll let them watch so they know that you’re mine, that
you’ll only ever be mine.”
“I hate you,” she whispers.
“That’s okay, hate me all you want, but it won’t change
anything. You’ll still be mine, my girl, my cum slut, my little
bird.”
“I’m not a slut, I was a virgin until you stole it. And if I’m
a bird, what does that make you? Am I the prey and you the
predator? Now you’ve captured me and taken what you
want, why don’t you let me go?”
“I’m your cage, Starling. I was always going to catch
you, but I’m keeping you too.”
“I hate you,” she says again.
“Didn’t seem much like hate when you were coming all
over my cock,” I say arrogantly, reluctantly sliding my arm
from around her waist and sitting up. “Go pee.”
The moment she’s free, she jumps up from the bed and
rushes to the bathroom. I’ve already removed the lock from
the door, just in case she tries to hide from me in there. I
considered taking the door off completely, but I’m hoping
she’ll learn sooner rather than later to just accept that
we’re together.
There’s a soft gasp of pain, then the sound of her
peeing, and I can’t help the smile that spreads across my
lips. I wasn’t gentle, she’s going to be sore, but I can’t
seem to find it in me to regret that. She’s sore because I
pushed my dick through her hymen and claimed her pussy
for the very first time. Like a caveman I want to beat my
chest with pride. Her security detail were under strict
instructions to make sure no guys got close enough to think
they even had a chance at taking what’s mine, but in the
last two and a half years they haven’t had to intervene even
once.
She ran from her home, her mother, her friend and
started over somewhere new, but apart from her
relationship with her father she’s barely made any attempt
to get close to anyone else. I went to see her in Maine more
than once, the last time I told her if she didn’t come home
I’d take away all the people who were important to her. I
was angry, furious even, and I did what I promised I would.
Removing Courtney from her life had been almost too
easy. She’d jumped ship at the first hint of popularity and a
place on the arm of one of The Elite. I’d assumed Cassidy
would be harder, sadly it hadn’t been difficult to persuade
her that offering Starling an ultimatum was the way to go.
It just never occurred to me that Starling wouldn’t back
down.
I destroyed her relationship with her mother and it’s my
only regret in this whole sordid mess. Cassidy is still
heartbroken and Starling is a shell of the sweet, caring girl
I became obsessed with. Now that I have her back, I’ll fix it,
I’ll give her back her mother and the guys can be her
friends, I’ll wrap her so tightly into our group that she’ll
never want to run again.
The bathroom door opens and Starling emerges
wrapped in a towel, her perfect body hidden from my view.
Jumping up from the bed, I prowl toward her. She flinches
and backs away, but I snap my arm out and grab the towel,
ripping it from around her as I drag her to me, pressing her
naked breasts against my chest as I reach down and force
my hands between her legs. “Did you try to clean all my
cum out of you?” I growl.
“There was blood,” she gasps, a fine tremor running
across her skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
Pushing two fingers into her cunt, I smile at how slick
she is. “Are you sore?”
“Yes,” she grimaces.
“Good.” Lifting her off the floor, I grip one of her thighs
and wrap it around my waist, walking us backward until I
can sit down on the edge of the bed.
“Sebastian,” she argues.
“All my cum is going inside you, little bird. It doesn’t
matter how sore you are, or how many times I’ve taken you
already that day. My little cum slut gets it all, so spread
your legs and I’ll be as gentle as I can. If you fight me, I’ll
make it hurt.”
For a moment she does nothing, just stares at me, a mix
of hurt, hate and desire flashing through her eyes. Then
almost imperceptibly, she spreads her legs. It’s barely an
inch, but it doesn’t matter, she’s done what I told her to,
she made a choice and now I’ll reward her.
“Good girl,” I coo, smoothing my palm up her spine,
caressing her skin as my lips find her neck, kissing her
gently. Lifting her, I use my free hand to guide my cock to
her entrance, then I slowly lower her down onto my length.
“It hurts,” she whimpers.
“I’ll make the pain feel so good,” I promise when I’m
fully seated inside of her. Using my finger, I lift her chin
and lock our gazes together. “I fucking love you, Starling, I
have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Swallowing visibly, I don’t wait for her to respond,
leaning forward and kissing her roughly. I expect her to
fight, but instead she kisses me back, her tongue
tentatively tangling with mine.
“Such a good girl,” I praise, loving it when her cunt
clenches around me. Using one arm, I start to lift her up
and down my length slowly, pushing my other hand
between us and finding her clit.
“Your cunt is gripping me so tight. You’re so fucking
perfect,” I tell her as I work her clit, lifting her up and
down until her arousal coats me and her hips roll on their
own, her body learning how to take me. “Good girl,” I
praise again, and she moans softly. She likes it when I
praise her. “You’re such a beautiful little bird, you feel
perfect, I love being inside of you, I love you.”
The more I tell her how perfect she is, how good she is,
the more her hips move, her fingers gripping me tightly as
her breath turns ragged and she seeks out my lips with her
own, kissing me.
“Come for me, baby, come on my cock and soak me in
your sweetness.”
“Sebastian,” she gasps, pushing up with her hips and
then dropping back down, riding my cock as she chases her
own release, my name on her lips.
“That’s it, don’t stop,” I encourage. Rubbing at her clit, I
clench my teeth and deny my orgasm until her cunt clamps
down on me so tightly, I think she might strangle my cock.
She comes on a wailing cry, throwing her head back and
gasping my name. I fuck her through her orgasm and
follow her over the edge, filling her with my cum again,
branding her from the inside out. “My good girl, so good,
so perfect,” I coo, kissing and sucking at her neck as she
calms, her body melting into mine, her head falling
exhausted to my shoulder.
We stay like that for a long time, my dick inside of her
and my arms wrapped around her, while her head is rested
against my shoulder. Her stomach growls and chuckling, I
lift her off my dick and lower her onto shaking legs. “You
okay?”
Silently she nods.
Pushing up from the bed, I look down between her
thighs to where her legs are wet and my dick gets hard
again. “Fuck, little bird, I want you again.”
“Sebastian,” she whimpers.
“Don’t worry, as long as you behave I’ll keep my dick in
my pants. You need to be able to walk in the morning.”

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 14

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 STARLING

M y body clenches with fucked-up arousal at his words. I

shouldn’t want him to touch me and I certainly
shouldn’t want to have sex with him. My pussy is pulsing so
hard it could probably register on the Richter scale, but
even though I should, I don’t hate the idea of him fucking
me again.
Tiny tremors of pleasure are still vibrating through me
and I’m not sure if I want to smile or cry, or just curl into a
ball and rock like a mental patient. My body is confused
and I don’t know what to do or feel.
I’m naked, but I’m too exhausted to care, so I just stand
while he opens a large wooden dresser and pulls something
out. Crossing to the closet, he grabs a shirt and heads back
over to me, shocking me when he sinks to his knees at my
feet, holding out a familiar pair of panties. Dumbstruck, I
stare down at him, until he taps one of my ankles.
“Lift your foot, baby.”
I do as he asks and once both feet are through, he pulls
my panties up my thighs.
“I need to go clean up.”
“No you don’t,” he smiles, pulling the panties over my
hips, then sliding his hand over the fabric between my
thighs, pressing it into the mess that’s between my legs.
“I’m going to fuck you so often your panties will always be
soaked, I’ll make you so desperate for me that your pussy
will cream just at the sound of my voice when I tell you it’s
time to be my good little bird and take my cock.”
I shudder at his words. I don’t know what it is about him
calling me good girl, or good little bird that makes me want
to part my thighs and offer myself up to him. I hate him, I
really do, but when he says those words to me, his breath
heating my skin, I forget all about loathing him and all I
can feel is want.
Soft jersey fabric drops over my head, the shirt long
enough to cover me to midthigh. Pushing my arms through
the sleeve, I glance down at the Kingsacre crest on the
front.
“You look good in my clothes, little bird. Let’s go eat.”
At some point he must have pulled on sweatpants, but
his feet are bare and so is his torso. There’s a tattoo over
his heart that I hadn’t noticed and as he waits for me to
move, I take a closer look, then suck in a sharp gasp.
“When did you get that?” I ask, shakily pointing to the
ornate cage with the beautiful bird inside that’s inked into
his flesh.
“After you left.”
It’s beautiful, the cage so gorgeous and real it feels like I
could reach out and touch metal, but it’s the heart-shaped
lock that draws my eye. “Why?” I ask, reaching out a
trembling finger and running it over the lock.
“Because I was always going to bring you back to me
and I promised myself when I did, I’d lock your cage so you
can never run from me again.”
Closing my eyes, I squeeze them tightly and drag in a
shuddering breath.
“Come on, baby, I need to feed you,” he says, ushering
me from the room with a hand on the base of my spine.
I let him guide me down the stairs, too shell-shocked to
protest until he’s sitting in a chair and placing me in his
lap. It takes me a moment to realize the others are all in
the room too, the plates still lying on the table.
Without saying anything, Clay gets up from his seat and
bustles around the kitchen, pulling a pan from the oven and
placing it in the center of the table before removing the foil
from the top, revealing a steaming pile of pasta coated in
what looks like tomato sauce and cheese.
My stomach lets out a loud growl and all of the guys
chuckle.
“We worked up an appetite,” Sebastian says loud
enough that I feel my cheeks heat and I want to melt into
the floor where I don’t have to see my stepbrother and his
friends snickering and smirking.
“And now suddenly I’m not hungry anymore,” I hiss,
standing from Sebastian’s lap, only to be dragged back
down, his arm suddenly an iron bar keeping me in place.
“Sit. Eat,” he orders.
His anger reignites the fear and anguish I’d managed to
push to the back of my mind and I just want to curl into a
ball and cry again. My emotions are all over the place. One
minute I’m desolate, the next rebellious, the next horny, but
this is what he’s always done to me. He overwhelms me
until I can’t even trust my own instincts.
“Beer, water, soda, juice?” Evan asks, dragging my
attention from my internal freak-out.
“Water’s fine, thanks.”
Getting up from the table, he crosses to the huge built-in
drinks cooler and takes out four beers and a bottle of
water, then hands them out, giving me mine first. His eyes
seem to be raking over me, his brows furrowed lightly.
“Are you okay?” he asks cautiously.
“Well, I’m a prisoner, the guy I moved halfway across the
country to get away from apparently wants to lock me in a
cage and I just let him take my virginity because he worked
me up so hard I forgot that I hate him,” I word vomit,
laughing hysterically.
 Evan’s eyes widen and he looks from me to Sebastian
behind me.
“You’re not a prisoner,” Sebastian says quietly.
“Aren’t I? Can I get up and leave, pack my stuff and go
home?”
“No.”
“Then let’s call a spade a spade. I’m a prisoner.”
The guys all stare at me, like they have no idea what to
say, like me calling them on their bullshit is completely
unexpected.
“Little bird,” Sebastian growls in warning.
“There’s no point sugarcoating it, is there? You wanted
me here, so here I am. None of this was my choice and you
know it’s not what I want. But like you’ve already told me,
what I want isn’t important, this is all about you, because I
had the audacity to not fall in for your plans for me when I
was sixteen.”
“Starling.” His voice is icy, but really, what else can he
do to me now that he hasn’t already?
“What do you want from me, huh? I’m not going to
pretend that I’m happy about this situation just to make
you feel better about it. The four of you are holding me
captive; I’m a prisoner and this is my cage,” I say, throwing
my arms in the air and scoffing.
Hunter, Evan and Clay all shuffle uncomfortably in their
seats and I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my lips.
“What’s up, boys? Not enjoying your role as jailer as much
as you thought you would. At least Sebastian gets to fuck
me. I’ll still hate him for it, but he’s getting his dick wet.
What are you three getting? I don’t hate you quite as much
as I despise him, but make no mistake, I hate you all too.”
“We” Clay starts.
“You what?” I interrupt him. “You what?”
“We don’t want you to hate us,” Hunter says quietly, his
intense eyes boring into me.
 “Awww, well that sucks for you then doesn’t it,” I say
sardonically, ignoring the plate of food in front of me and
reaching over to grab a roll from the bowl in the center of
the table. Sebastian’s hold on me loosens marginally, so I
take the opportunity to stand up. “Now if you’ll excuse me,
I’ll take my prisoner’s ration of bread and water back
upstairs to my cell.” Turning to Sebastian, I smile widely.
“Now am I in solitary confinement in my own bed, or am I
being shackled to yours?”
“We’ll be sleeping in our bed,” he says tersely.
“Yes, warden, sir,” I say, offering him a mock salute
before turning and marching to the door, pausing and
spinning around to face the guys. “All prisoners get
exercise time in the yard, I run at five a.m. and as I’m not
allowed out without one of my guards, I’ll let you decide
which one of you gets to accompany me.”
My Bravado lasts until my fingers wrap around the door
handle for my door and it doesn’t open. As much as I can
throw sass at the guys and pretend like I’m just full of
anger when I’m around them, as soon as I’m alone, the
sadness and fear take over. Stumbling into Sebastian’s
room, I rush into the bathroom and turn on all the faucets,
letting the sound of running water cover the sound of me
breaking down. Reality hits me like a wrecking ball and my
legs collapse beneath me as I sink to the floor and sob into
my hands for the life I should have had and the reality I’m
being forced to live.
I’m not sure how long I cry for, long enough for the
water to heat and for the room to fill with steam. Pushing
the plug into place I let the tub fill with water and then
climb into it fully clothed, ignoring the burning sensation as
the water scalds my skin. When the stinging fades, my body
goes numb and I lean my head back into the water and
close my eyes, steadying my breathing as I listen to the
sound of the water moving around me.
 I feel it the moment he opens the door and steps into the
bathroom, but I don’t open my eyes, or make any attempt
to speak to him. After a moment, he leaves again and I
exhale a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. When the
water goes cold, I get out, shrugging his sopping-wet shirt
and my panties to the floor before wrapping myself in a
fluffy towel.
His frenetic energy pulses between us when I step into
the room, but I don’t speak and neither does he. I can feel
his gaze following me around as I open the closet and take
out another of his shirts, pulling it on.
My stomach’s empty, but I ignore it, lifting the edge of
his rumpled sheet and climbing into his bed. Rolling to my
side I turn my back on him, but he doesn’t speak as he
turns out the light, climbs in behind me and curls an arm
around my waist.
I’m not sure what time it is when I blink awake, it’s dark
out, but my body clock is so out of whack it could be
midnight or five in the morning. There’s heat at my back.
Sebastian. Everything comes back to me in a rush. This is
his bed, I’m his captive and there’s nothing I can do about
it.
His hand is between my thighs, fingers slowly stroking
me. I could fight, but what’s the point? I’m not entirely sure
he’d stop if I really didn’t want his touch, but the truth is as
much as I wish I did, I don’t hate the way it feels when he
makes me come.
That’s always been the most confusing thing about how I
feel when I’m around him. I’m scared of him, of the way he
feels, of the way he takes over and disregards my wants,
but the moment he touches me, or kisses me I’m lost to
him. From the very first time that he manipulated me into
stripping naked for him in my bedroom, my body has
reacted to him, like he’s my very own brand of narcotic.
In real life I despise him, but in the quiet moments,
when it’s just us, I can’t deny the way he disarms me. Sure
fingers part my folds and he slides two into me, not moving,
just filling me.
“Spread your legs.” His voice is rough with sleep, low
and gruff.
Pushing my legs apart I bite down on my lower lip with
my teeth, determined to stay quiet. I’ll allow him to touch
me, allow him to give me pleasure, but I’ll be damned if I
let him see me enjoy it. He doesn’t deserve it and I’m
ashamed to let him know how much I like the way he plays
with my body.
“Good girl, you’re so wet. Even though your cunt is
swollen from my cock it’s still dripping for me.”
I swallow back my moan and he continues his
ministrations, not moving the fingers that are buried inside
of me as his other hand finds my clit, circling it and
pinching, gradually increasing the pressure until my hips
are moving of their own accord, needing more.
“Roll onto your stomach, knees up beneath you.”
He doesn’t remove his fingers as I move, keeping the
pressure on my clit until I’m face down on the bed, my
knees curled up beneath me, my ass and pussy in the air.
“Such a pretty little cunt, so tight and hot. Are you sore?
Does it hurt?”
Clasping my hand across my mouth, I stifle my moans,
not making a sound.
“Huh, you’ve got nothing to say? You had no problem
talking earlier. How about we play a little game instead?
Use my fingers, fuck them like you would my dick, if you
can stay quiet you can sleep in your own room for the rest
of the night, if not then you’ll ride my dick until you’re
screaming my name loud enough for the entire house to
hear, then we’re going to a party.”
Even knowing that playing with Sebastian is a fool’s
errand, I can’t help myself. His fingers are inside me and
no matter how much I pretend otherwise, it feels good and
my body is screaming at me to move, to give myself the
friction I need.
Rolling my hips experimentally, my sex moves up and
down his fingers and a pulse of tingling sensation sparks to
life at my core. He doesn’t move, and I roll my hips again,
biting on my bottom lip to stay quiet.
“Don’t stop, little bird, fuck my hand like getting off
would be the key to your freedom,” he growls angrily. “My
cock’s bigger than two fingers so maybe you need a third.”
My pussy stretches painfully as he pushes a third huge
finger inside of me. It hurts, the burning sensation blocking
out the pleasure I’d been feeling before. Maybe that would
be good, if it hurt I could stay quiet and win. Half a night in
my own bed might not be such a huge victory, but he’d hate
it and that would make it all the sweeter.
Starting slowly, I push back onto him, forcing his digits
in deeper, then rolling forward, allowing them to slide
almost all the way out, before pushing back again. Impaling
myself deep I embrace the pain, taking it in and using it to
patch up the holes the pleasure has caused in my mental
walls.
“Harder,” he demands and I comply, moving faster as
the pain slowly changes, morphing into an unrecognizable
burn that hurts in the best way possible. My hips move of
their own accord, my body’s instincts taking over, pushing
away logic and rational thought and replacing it with
primal need.
By the time the first moan of bliss slips from my lips, all
thoughts of winning have dissolved from my head. Me, him,
the game, none of it matters when all I need is to come, to
splinter and claim the pleasure my body is chasing. Just as
the torrent of sensation is about to topple, his fingers are
ripped from me and my pussy is empty and pulsing.
“No,” I cry.
Seconds later his hands are beneath me, lifting me,
holding me over him, positioning me. He impales me onto
his cock in one devastating move. I’m more full than I’ve
ever been in my life. My legs are either side of his, my
pussy stretched wide around his girth and it feels like the
head of his cock is battering my stomach every time he
roughly lifts me up, then slams me back down onto him.
My first orgasm takes me by surprise, exploding with no
warning and making me clamp down so hard on
Sebastian’s cock he actually growls.
“Fuck, little bird, your cunt is like a vise, but you didn’t
scream my name.” His thumb finds my clit and within
moments I’m coming again. This time, I do scream, gasping
his name when he leans up and bites my nipple, sending an
aftershock of bliss rolling through my muscles.
“That’s it, milk my dick, take every drop of my cum.”
My core is still fluttering when I’m lifted and spun
around like I weigh less than a rag doll, his dick is inches
from my face, shiny and wet with a mixture of both of us.
“Suck me clean, little bird,” he demands, sliding his
fingers into me again.
I pause, and his palm lands on my ass, spreading my
cheeks. “It’s either your mouth or your ass, I’ll let you
choose.”
My ass tightens on instinct at his threat and I part my
lips and slowly suck him into my mouth.
“Fuck, little bird, fuck your mouth feels amazing.”
I brace for the unpleasant taste, but the salty tang isn’t
as disgusting as I was expecting and there’s a sweetness
that I can only assume is me? Licking and sucking, I clean
all of our arousal from him, enjoying the feeling of being in
control, until his hand tangles in my hair and he pulls me
off him. “Enough, my dick needs a minute to recover,” he
chuckles.
“What time is it?” I ask, wiggling and trying to move
from my awkward position.
“Almost midnight.”
“You want to go to a party now?”
 His hold on my hair tightens, dragging my head back.
“Yes, get up, there’s a dress for you in the closet.”
“I’m tired.”
“You lost, get your ass up before I fuck you again.”
Dragging my sore, aching body from the bed, I pad into
the bathroom and turn on the shower, but his arm snakes
around me turning the water off. “I need to shower.”
“No you don’t, I want everyone to smell me on you. To
know you’re owned and freshly fucked.”
“You’re an asshole, I’m not going anywhere smelling like
stale sex and self-hatred.”
His hand tangles in my hair and he yanks my head back
so hard a shriek of pain startles from my lips. “You’ll go
where I tell you to go, wear what I tell you to wear and do
whatever the fuck I tell you to do.”
“Prisoner 101,” I nod. “And they say kids don’t learn
anything in college these days.”
His laugh is low and rough against my ear. “Cute. Now
go get dressed.”
He loosens his hold on my hair enough for me to turn
and leave the bathroom. My flight instinct has me eyeing
the door, but I know running right now isn’t my path to
freedom, so instead I make my way to the closet and open
the door. The space is huge and one side is filled with men’s
clothes, the other with women’s. Tags are still hanging
from the array of dresses, pants, shirts and other stuff. It’s
more clothes than I currently own, more clothes than I’ll
ever need.
“This one,” Sebastian says, stepping past me and into
the vast space, plucking a gold dress from the rod and
handing it to me.
“I can’t wear this.”
“Why?”
“Because you need tits and ass for a dress like this, I
don’t have either.”
 “I agree you need to gain some weight, but try it on for
me anyway.”
I’m naked, but I don’t bother putting on underwear and
instead just pull the dress over my head. It falls like a
potato sack to midthigh, shapeless and awful.
“Take it off,” he orders.
Pushing the straps from my shoulders, the dress falls to
my feet and I step out of it, bending down to pick it up.
“Leave it,” he orders, picking the dress up and throwing
it into the corner.
“That’s a thousand-dollar dress,” I gasp.
“Forget the dress. Pick something to wear.”
“If I have to go to this party, I’d rather wear my own
clothes.”
“All you own is denim shorts and athletic wear,” he says
derisively. “Pick something appropriate.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my clothes,” I hiss through
gritted teeth.
“When you don’t want male attention, I completely
agree. But you’re mine and I just got you back, I want the
entire school to see you and know who you belong to. So
either pick something, or you can try on everything in here
until I find something I like.”
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him, but instead of
backing down he just smiles. Shaking my head I step
forward and start to root through the clothes, finding a pair
of ripped jeans and pulling them on. They’re so tight they
might as well be painted on, but they give me the illusion of
curves that I can’t help admiring in the floor-length mirror.
Spotting a pretty satin bralette in a deep-burgundy-red
color, I free it from the hanger and pull it over my head,
positioning it to cover my modest tits. I slide my feet into
black leather pumps that I don’t need to see the red sole to
know are absurdly expensive and likely impossible to walk
in.
 “Fuck, little bird, I wanted to show you off, but now I’m
not sure I want to share you,” he rasps, moving behind me
and wrapping his arm around my waist, his face appearing
in the reflection of the mirror.
Fisting my hair, he drags it to one side and presses a
kiss to the back of my neck. He softly nuzzles for a moment
until his teeth clamp down and pain shoots through me as
he marks me the same way he did when we were in high
school.
“Sebastian,” I cry, fighting to free myself when his arm
bands around my waist, keeping me in place as he brands
my skin.
“Perfect,” he whispers when he finally releases me,
admiring his work. “Put your hair up, I want to be able to
see my mark on you.”
Thirty minutes later, Sebastian half guides me, half
drags me through the gates and into a waiting golf cart. I’m
not sure where they were being kept but apparently, they
belong to the house. Hunter, Evan and Clay keep eyeing me
warily, but I have no interest in speaking to them, so I keep
my gaze fixed on the passing trees and pointedly ignore all
of their attempts to bring me into their conversation.
The sound of the party hits us ten minutes before we
actually reach the woods where it’s being held. Instead of
having to hike down the path, Hunter drives the cart to the
edge of the crowd and parks in a spot that almost seems to
have been kept vacant just for them. Sebastian halts me
when I try to climb out. “You’re with one of us at all times,
you don’t take drinks from anyone else.”
“Whatever,” I say childishly, but I just don’t care
anymore.
“I’m fucking serious, Starling, if you try to run, I’ll find
you and when I do, I’ll lock you down so fucking tight what
you’re feeling right now will seem like flying.”
“Yeah, yeah. I promise not to try and escape tonight,
warden. I’ll be a good little inmate, Scout’s honor.”
 He scowls at my tone, but really, what else can he do to
me that he hasn’t already done? Taking my hand tightly in
his, he climbs out of the cart first, then pulls me out,
dragging me into his side and wrapping a hand firmly
around the back of my neck. It’s a proprietary move and I
hate that I like it, almost as much as I loathe it.
“What do you want to drink?” Evan asks me.
Ignoring him, I force my face into a bored expression
and glance at the party raging around us.
“Starling, can we please just try to be friends?” Clay
asks.
Turning my attention back to the three men standing in
front of me, I blink slowly. “No.”
“This is so fucked up,” Hunter growls angrily.
“She’ll come around,” Sebastian says, his grip on me
tightening.
I laugh dryly and shake my head. “Give me one good
reason why I’d want to be friends with any of you after
you’ve done this to me?”
“Because we’re all you’ve got,” Clay murmurs quietly.
I laugh again, the sound bitter and angry. “I have plenty
of practice at being alone, I’d rather have no one than any
of you.”
The three of them look… hurt? But why? It’s not like
we’ve ever been close, I’d never even spoken to any of
them before Sebastian bulldozed my life and destroyed it.
Evan scowls, then turns and marches away. “This is so
fucked.”
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I tap at the screen and
open up the book I started reading on the plane.
“What are you doing?” Sebastian demands.
“Reading.”
“We’re at a party.”
“So?”
“So, you don’t fucking read at your first college party.
Tell me what you want to do. Drink? Dance?”
 “You wanted me here, so here I am. You can force me to
be somewhere, but you can’t force me to enjoy it.”
“You’re in college, you should be ten shots in, making
friends with perky blondes or some shit.”
“You want me to make friends,” I scoff. “Why? So you
can use them to punish me when I piss you off? Yeah, I
learned my lesson, I’m good. I’m not going to run, so go do
what you need to do and I’ll read my book, you can come
find me when you’re ready to go.”
His brow furrows and he looks genuinely baffled by me,
like he has no idea what to do.
“Here,” Evan says, returning with five bottles of beer in
his hands.
“I’m good,” I say, not lifting my gaze from my cell.
“You want something else? I’m pretty sure they had
wine coolers and some tequila.”
“Nope,” I pop the p sound.
“Take the damn beer,” Sebastian snarls.
Reaching out, I take the bottle and immediately tip it,
letting the contents fall to the ground beside me. “Thanks,
that was delicious,” I deadpan.
“Fucking hell,” Sebastian curses. “Come on, let’s go, I
want to make sure everyone sees her with me.”
“Will I get to leave quicker if I ask people to form a
circle and then just bend over? You can fuck me, shouting
mine, mine, mine, then everyone will know,” I snark.
“Shut the fuck up, Starling.”
Miming zipping my lips, I focus my attention back on my
cell and start to read, or at least I pretend to read while
Sebastian guides me with his tight territorial grip on the
back of my neck.
People stop us every few steps, greeting the guys like
they’re the prodigal sons, returned to save the world.
Sebastian introduces me to each person, but I don’t bother
to engage with more than a tip of my chin, or a distracted
“Hey” before I focus my attention back to my cell.
 I know people are wondering who I am and why
Sebastian is giving me so much attention, when I’m making
it obvious I don’t want to be at the party or with these boys,
but just like in high school, no one questions them. The
guys bring me more drinks, but I tip them all away without
taking a sip and in the end, they give up, staring at me with
sad eyes and forlorn expressions.
All of a sudden, Sebastian’s grip on me loosens as a girl
barrels into him, throwing her arms around his neck and
kissing him passionately. “Bastian, baby, I missed you, I
missed all you guys,” Courtney says, in a breathy, lusty tone
that makes me snort derisively.
“Courtney,” Sebastian says coolly, removing the limpet
from his body and setting her down a few steps from us,
before reaching for me and wrapping his palm back
possessively around my nape.
“Starling, I’m surprised to see you here,” Court says
tersely.
“Hmmm,” I agree noncommittally.
“Boys, you should come back to Harrington House with
me, we could have fun, like we used to.”
“We’re good,” Hunter tells her dismissively.
Courtney scowls, then her gaze swings back to me. “It
didn’t take you long to crawl back, you know they like to
share, don’t you? Did you offer to whore yourself out for all
of them? They won’t keep you, you were only ever a toy,
they’ll use you, then discard you.”
“Here’s hoping,” I say, lifting my head and smiling
widely.
“Starling,” Sebastian warns.
“What? You can parade me around and pretend we’re all
happy or what the fuck ever, and strangers might believe it,
but she knows the truth. She knows I left my mom, my
home and my life and ran halfway across the country just to
get away from you. There’s no point pretending with her.
Court wants you, she’d make perfect arm candy. You could
train her to be the perfect little robot you want and when
you get fed up, you can pass her along to one of the others.
I’m happy to step aside and leave you two lovebirds to it, in
fact, I’ll just go.” I try to step away, but Sebastian snaps his
hand out and catches my wrist, manacling it in his grip, as
the others close in around us, forming a human cage
around me.
“Courtney,” Evan sneers. “Go away.”
“Are you joking? Don’t tell me you want her too?”
“She’s my friend and my stepsister.”
“She hates you,” her gaze travels over all four boys. “All
of you, she always has. I thought she was just playing hard
to get back in high school, but you really don’t want
anything to do with them, do you?” she laughs gleefully.
“No, I don’t.”
“Oh, this is brilliant. The great Sebastian Lockwood
can’t get the girl he wants to want him back.”
“Fuck off, Courtney,” Sebastian warns.
“Oh I’m going, for now. But when she runs again, you’ll
need to come begging on your knees to get me back,” she
laughs. “Starling, this has been fun. I was going to threaten
you again, but I don’t need to warn you away from him, you
don’t want him anyway. Bye, babe, have a good night.”
“Bye, Court,” I smirk, thoroughly amused.
“She threatened you?” Clay demands.
“We had a grand reunion yesterday where she advised
me she’d had you all and that her and Sebastian were
practically engaged and I shouldn’t bother trying to get his
attention,” I giggle.
Strong hands grab me and I’m turned into Sebastian’s
chest. Tipping my chin back he forces me to look at him. “I
never fucked her.”
“I don’t care if you did,” I shrug.

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 15

OceanofPDF.com
 SEBASTIAN

“I don’t care if you did.”

Her eyes are earnest and almost laughing at me and
I fight the urge to haul her into the trees and fuck her until
she’s screaming my name loud enough for everyone at the
party to hear. She looks beautiful, but the emptiness in her
gaze pisses me off. She should care if I fucked her best
friend. She should be angry, furious even, but instead she’s
impassive, disinterested.
Worry that I really did break her flows through me. It
wasn’t my intention, I just wanted to punish her, to make
her come back to me, to make her confess what I knew…
that she wanted me as much as I wanted her. But I think I
went too far. All those years ago when I told her I’d take
everyone important from her, I never meant it. But when
she didn’t come back, when she refused to fall in line, I was
too far gone, too heartbroken that she would run from me
that I acted harshly.
The friend was always going to have to go, even
knowing I was with Starling, Courtney propositioned me
within hours of me first publicly claiming her friend. I told
the guys to play with her a little while I cemented things
with my little bird, but it turns out the rich girl, who
befriended the poor girl, was just a shark, setting things up
to make her friend the bait when she needed it. She
confessed to Evan one time that she’d seen the way I
watched Starling right from the start, seen the way the
others followed her and monitored her and then just bided
her time, knowing it was only a matter of waiting until I
staked my claim.
“Can we go?” Starling asks, bored.
“No.”
Rolling her eyes, she scowls. “Fine, can we at least sit,
these shoes are killing me.”
I glance to Hunter, who nods, leading a path through the
throngs of excited college kids to a small bonfire, with lawn
chairs and huge wooden benches carved out of logs set
around it. Sitting down, I pull Starling into my lap, while
the guys take chairs on either side of us. Several familiar
faces fill the chairs opposite and suddenly, instead of it
being a party, it’s a powwow for the young, rich and
powerful.
Instead of keg stands and tequila shots, the talk moves
to alliances, engagements and business deals and I love it.
Being here, being revered by some of the most powerful
families in America with Starling on my lap, is everything
I’ve ever wanted. Of course, when we leave Kingsacre we’ll
change Solo cups and bonfires for boardrooms and top-
shelf whiskey, but regardless of the location, my friends
and I will still be the ones others seek out for approval.
I was hoping my little bird would have a drink tonight, I
ache to see her relaxed and enjoying herself, but no matter
what we bring her, she just pours it away. Even in my lap,
she’s still tense, poised to go, to run from me, and I’ve no
doubt tomorrow she’ll have bruises from how tight my grip
is on her.
Letting her go isn’t an option, so I need to fix what I
broke. I need to make her fall in love with me, to make her
see that I can make her happy. The guys are all pissed at
me too, Starling is so angry at all of us, but I don’t think
they expected her hatred and it’s eating at them, especially
Evan. She’s his stepsister and I know he genuinely wants a
relationship with her.
“Let’s go,” I say, lifting her from my lap and onto her
feet, holding her steady with my hands around her waist.
Draping my arm across her shoulders, I press a kiss to the
side of her neck as I follow Clay through the crowds and
back to the cart that’s parked in our spot. I might not have
been at Kingsacre for the last couple of years, but the
others were, and I visited my brothers enough that people
already knew who I was before I officially transferred. Our
status on campus is why we have a parking spot mere feet
from the party, and why our cart is untouched and there’s a
clear path out without us having to wait for others to move.
Lifting Starling onto the seat, I climb in next to her, placing
a restraining hand on her thigh as Evan drives us back to
the house. I’m tense until the huge metal gates close
behind us and I know she’s contained, unable to run from
me.
It's nearly three a.m., but instead of heading upstairs I
follow the guys to the kitchen, towing Starling along with
me.
“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep,” she says, trying to tug
her hand free of my grip.
“You need to eat first,” Hunter says quietly. “We’ve been
here two days and all you’ve eaten is half a sandwich and a
dry roll, you’re practically wasting away anyway.”
“I’m not hungry and how do you know what I’m eating,
are you all following me?”
“There’s always eyes on you,” I tell her, not flinching at
the accusing glare she darts in my direction.
“Please, Starling, just eat something. I’ll make whatever
you want,” Hunter begs.
“I need to sleep,” she argues.
“Eat and then you can sleep, little bird,” I tell her.
“What do you fancy? Burgers, sandwiches, waffles,
pancakes, French toast,” he offers a little desperately.
 “Prisoners don’t normally get a choice,” she snaps.
“You’re not a prisoner,” I snarl.
Her scoff is derisive and dark. “I’ve been a prisoner
since the day you declared I was yours. You tried to wrap it
up in a pretty girlfriend bow, but if you take all the glitz
away, I’m still here against my will. Why don’t you just tell
me what I’ve got to eat and I’ll eat it, so I can go and
sleep.”
Hunter’s shoulders slump and he moves silently around
the kitchen, pulling together the ingredients for a sandwich
as we all silently watch. He slides it in front of Starling and
she picks it up and slowly eats, opening the bottle of water
he places in front of her and drinking, until both the plate
and bottle are empty.
“Can I go to bed now?” she asks.
I nod and she kicks off her shoes, bends to pick them up
and leaves. I listen as she climbs the stairs, not relaxing
until my cell beeps to notify me that my bedroom door has
been opened.
“This is so fucked up,” Clay growls.
“You need to let her go, this isn’t going to work, she
fucking hates you, all of us,” Evan says sadly. “She’s my
sister, man, and she really fucking hates me. I don’t… I’ve
never had a sibling before, I don’t…” he trails off, his
expression defeated.
“Was she like this in Maine? This angry? What about
friends? Is there anyone we could bring here, to make this
easier for her?” Hunter asks.
“She didn’t make any friends, it was just her and her
dad. We can’t bring him here, he hates me, she told him
everything,” I admit.
“She must have some friends, there must be someone,”
Clay says.
“According to the guards I had in the school, she didn’t.
She went to school, did her work, but she was a loner,
never engaged, never went out, never really spoke to
anyone unless she absolutely had to.”
“You need to let her go, get her a place at the school she
wanted to go to in Maine,” Evan tells me.
“No,” I snarl. “She’s mine.”
Shoving back his chair and jumping to his feet, Evan
parts his lips, ready to yell at me, but Hunter speaks first.
“She’s broken, we broke her. This girl isn’t the same
Starling we knew, this isn’t the same Starling you fell in
love with.”
“Then we fix her,” I shout.
“You need to give her space,” Clay suggests.
“She’ll run, she’s planning her escape already, her eyes
are always searching for a chance to get away. You can’t
stop her from going home for the holidays and once she
leaves, unless you do something to fix this, she won’t come
back,” Evan says.
“So we don’t let her go,” I snap. “We take her home to
Green Acres for the holidays, she needs to fix things with
Cassidy anyway.”
“I’m not sure that’s fixable,” Evan sighs. “Starling only
takes Cassidy’s calls on her birthday and Christmas, the
rest of the time she just doesn’t answer. Cass cries so hard
every time it goes to voice mail that my dad told her to stop
calling. We destroyed their relationship and I think forcing
Starling to come home will only make things worse.”
“We really are the fucking monsters she thinks we are,”
Hunter laughs darkly. “We have until winter break to fix
this, if we haven’t, then I’ll drive her to the airport myself
and pay for her tuition for her new school. We ruined this
girl, we did this and if we can’t fix it, then none of us
deserve to have her in our lives.”
When Hunter storms from the room, I stay stuck in my
seat, trying to process what he just said. He’s right, this is
all our fault, but I know I can’t and won’t give her up, even
if I’ll never deserve her. One by one, Evan then Clay leave,
until it’s just me sitting alone in the kitchen, considering
my sins and what I can do to atone for them. By the time I
push the door open to my bedroom and step inside I have a
plan in my mind, a way to make her want me, to make her
need me the same way I need her.
As I strip out of my clothes and climb into the bed beside
her, I vow to fix this, one way or another, there’s no other
option.

OceanofPDF.com
 16

OceanofPDF.com
 STARLING

M y eyes open a few minutes before my alarm goes off

and I groan, stretching my arms and legs as sleep
dissolves from my muscles, only the pain of yesterday’s
activities pulsing between my thighs. I can feel the heat of
Sebastian’s body behind me and I freeze, hoping not to
wake him as I roll toward the edge of the bed.
“Where are you going?” he asks sleepily.
“For a run.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“It’s too early, run later.”
“I run at five.”
“Not anymore you don’t,” he growls tiredly, wrapping
one arm around my waist and the other in my hair as he
drags my head backward and presses his lips against mine.
Yanking my head away from him, I wince as a chunk of
hair comes free, wiggling away and into a sitting position.
“I need to run, Sebastian,” I gasp, feeling panic start to rise
into my throat.
“Hey, what the fuck? What’s the matter?” he asks,
sitting up in bed and staring at me, wide eyed.
“I. Need. To. Run,” I say through panic-laden breaths. “It
keeps me sane. I need to run.”
 “Calm down. You’re not going on your own, you don’t
leave this fucking house without one of us. How far do you
go? You sort of wandered last time.”
“You followed me?” I pant, my chest feeling tight, my
vision dimming at the sides.
“Of course I did, you got up in the middle of the night,
it’s fucking dangerous.”
My eyes feel too large for my head, my skin tight. He’s
not going to let me go, I’m a prisoner, but even those in jail
get to roam and have some exercise. I’m on the verge of
another panic attack, I’ve never had two so close together,
but this is what being around him does to me. My mind
descends into a mental tailspin and there’s nothing I can do
but brace for impact and hope I’m still me on the other
side.
“Fuck. Little bird, stop, just fucking breathe, I’ll run with
you, but if you try to leave campus there will be
consequences.”
Nodding rapidly, I scramble off the bed as he reaches for
me. His brow furrows as if he’s surprised that I wouldn’t
want to be touched by him when I’m feeling this
overwhelmed and vulnerable. My dad would comfort me,
he’d talk me off this ledge I’m balanced precariously on,
but he isn’t here and Sebastian is the cause of my panic,
not the resolution.
Ignoring the fact that I’m naked except for one of his
shirts, I stand up and try to expand my lungs and pull in as
much air as I can. Closing my eyes, I try to forget where I
am and who I’m with and picture myself in my room at my
dad’s place. I pretend the silence is the peace of the calm
existence we lived and gradually it works. When I open my
eyes I’m not in the bedroom anymore, I’m in the bathroom,
backed up against a cool tile wall, my hands covering my
ears.
Blinking, I cough to clear my dry throat. I’m not sure
how I got in here, if I walked myself, or if Sebastian carried
me in here. My throat is sore and my chest is still tight, but
I can breathe and the blind panic has faded to a pulsing
undertone of anxiety that I know won’t go away anytime
soon. My hands are shaking as I reach in and turn on the
shower, not waiting for it to warm before I step beneath the
frosty-feeling water. The cold shocks me, but I embrace it,
stripping off his shirt and ducking my hair beneath the
frozen stream, dousing myself before it becomes lukewarm.
I turn the water off before it gets hot and jump out of the
shower, rubbing my goose bump–coated body with a towel.
When I finally lift my head, I find Sebastian standing in
the doorway watching me. “Are you okay?”
Silently I nod.
He nods back, but all of the smugness has gone from his
expression and in its place is a cold vacantness that
terrifies me. He hated that I flinched from his touch, even
back in high school, so it must be driving him crazy that I
won’t let him comfort me when I freak out now. Without a
word he moves to the dresser and opens a drawer, pulling
out panties, running shorts and a sports bra and tossing
them toward me. Opening a second drawer, he pulls out
clothes for himself and we dress in silence.
“My sneakers and AirPods are in my room.”
“It’s open, we’ll move the rest of your stuff into our room
once we get back.”
“I’d rather keep my things in my room.”
“Not your choice, I thought you understood that.”
Because I’m your prisoner, I say inside my head, but I
manage to keep my expression clear as I run up the stairs
to my room and grab my sneakers, armband and AirPods. I
could barricade myself inside and refuse to leave, but I
really do need to run, so instead I descend the stairs and
then calmly make my way out of the front door, hating that
the electric gates open the moment they sense our
presence.
 The urge to run is almost overwhelming. If I had a car, if
I could outrun him, if there was a chance I’d escape, I’d
bolt and never stop running until I was free of him. But
here and now there’s nowhere to go, at least not before he
caught me.
Pushing my buds into my ears, I do my usual stretches,
set my run tracker, turn up my mellow running playlist and
go. I don’t bother to look behind me, I know he’s following,
I can feel the intensity of his presence but I refuse to let
him infiltrate my happy place, so I ignore him and just run.
After a while, the routine of putting one foot in front of the
other settles into place and I lengthen my stride, enjoying
the freedom of living entirely in my head from one step to
the next.
I don’t turn toward the main gates this time, instead I
circle around the main building again, looping the entire
smattering of brick-built buildings as I go. Running the
same loop another three times, I reluctantly turn back
toward the house, my lungs warm, my legs comfortably
sore. Ignoring the vending machines I stopped at yesterday
I continue straight on to the house, feeling a resigned sense
of hatred for the place the moment it comes into view.
Sebastian passes me for the first time when we reach
the gates, using his key card to unlock it, then motioning
for me to walk through. My feet stop on the threshold, and
I glance up at the house, my prison. I don’t want to
willingly incarcerate myself again, but I’m not sure there’s
another choice, at least not for the minute. I will get away
from here and him, but I can’t be impulsive, I need to be
calm, make a plan, know where I’m going and how I’ll get
him to leave me alone for good the next time I run.
Stepping through the gate, I march up to the front door
and straight into the house, not pausing as I make my way
to the kitchen and pull a bottle of water from the
refrigerator. I suppose technically, it’s not mine to drink,
but I figure the least the assholes I’m living with can do is
buy drinks and snacks, I am their prisoner after all.
Drinking thirstily, I gulp down the cold liquid between
pants. I ran a little over ten miles and my muscles are
fatigued in the way that makes me smile even though I’m
coated in sweat and panting.
One of my buds is pulled from my ear and I startle,
spinning around to glare at Sebastian. “Hey.”
“You run ten miles every morning?”
“Sometimes at night too.”
“You never used to run.”
“I never did a lot of things until you invaded my life.”
“Why are you pretending that I was such a fucking
monster?” he demands.
Tipping my head back, I close my eyes and inhale,
attempting to calm my flaring anger. “You can keep me
here, you can control my life again, you can force me to
sleep in your bed and have sex with you, but you don’t get
to know what’s going on in here.” I tap at my temple.
His hand wraps around my neck, gripping me tightly as
he backs me against the refrigerator, the glass cold against
my heated skin. My heart is racing and it’s not through
fear, or at least it’s not all fear that’s making my skin
tremble and my nipples pebble. Firm lips find mine and he
plunders my mouth, not touching me anywhere else other
than the palm around my throat and his lips on mine.
I should fight, knee him in the balls or claw at his hold
around my throat, but instead I melt into him, kissing him
back as I tangle my fingers in his shirt and wrap my legs
around his hips, grinding my sore pussy against his hard
dick.
A moan of protest falls from my lips when he pulls away,
ending the kiss.
“Looks like I’m forcing you, doesn’t it, little bird? It’s
time to stop pretending I’m the bad guy when you want me
as much as I do you.”
 “Enjoying sex isn’t the same as wanting you,” I rasp.
“You’ll learn to love me the way I love you, and if I have
to do that through orgasms, well that works for me. You’re
mine and I’ll make you love me, make you want me, make
you need me. Go shower and get ready for class, I’m not in
until later so Clay’s going to take you.”
“I’m not a child, I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
“Look me in the eye and tell me you won’t run if I let you
go out on your own.”
Lifting my gaze, I try to make myself seem honest and
calm, but the truth is we both know I’d be gone the
moment I got a chance, and he’s smiling before I’ve even
opened my mouth.
“Exactly, you’re a flight risk, Starling, so it’s either a
babysitter or you stay here.”
“I hate you,” I snarl, pushing him away from me.
His smile is sinister. “I’m okay with that.”
“I need my stuff from my room.”
“The door’s open, but I want you to wear some of the
things I bought you.”
“I told you most of that won’t fit, you bought clothes for
someone who looks like Courtney, not for me,” I snap. “I’ll
let her know you got her some gifts, I’m sure she’ll be more
than grateful.”
“We’ll go shopping after class and you can pick things
that will fit your body until you put on some weight. I plan
to make sure you eat properly from now on.”
Rolling my eyes childishly, I stomp up the stairs and into
my turret. Yesterday morning I was so grateful for the
peaceful space, but now all the joy has been sucked out of
the room. Turning on my shower, I wash and then wrap
myself in a towel and open my closet door. It’s empty,
entirely empty, all of my meager belongings stripped from
the rod and removed while I showered.
Anger barrels through me and I drop my towel to the
floor and descend the stairs completely naked, the
multitude of bruises Sebastian’s rough treatment has given
me clearly on display. Throwing open the door to his room,
I find him sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only a
pair of black boxer briefs, his cock hard and straining at
the fabric.
“Come here, little bird.”
“No, I need to get ready for class,” I protest, trying to
step around him. Snapping his hand out, he grabs my wrist
as I pass and hauls me back to him.
“Get on your knees.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Get on your fucking knees, your cunt must be sore, but
I’ll fuck it if you force me to. I told you all my cum was for
you, so get on your fucking knees and open your mouth.”
My shocked gasp is so loud it’s almost funny. “You can’t
do this…” I whisper.
“Who’s going to stop me,” he taunts. “Now get on your
knees, I want to feel your lips around my dick.”
A shudder ripples through me as I slowly sink to my
knees between his legs. I expect him to stay seated, but
instead he stands, his cock level with my face.
“Take my cock out.”
My fingers shake as I reach out and push his boxers over
his hips until his hard dick bobs free, precum dripping from
the tip.
“Lick the head,” he orders.
Tentatively, I push out my tongue and lick over the
swollen head, the taste of the clear salty liquid filling my
mouth. I feel a tear leak from my eye and roll down my
cheek. He catches it with his thumb, bringing it to his lips
and sucking it into his mouth.
Soft fingers stroke over my hair as he caresses me.
“Eyes on me, little bird, I want to watch. Look how hard I
am. It’s all for you, my dick’s only ever gotten hard for you
since the moment I saw you.”
 “Sebastian,” I whisper, but I’m not sure what I want.
Most of me wants to get up, to run away and hide, but a
small part of me wants to lick him, to tease him and taste
him and make him come. I want to make him feel as out of
control as he makes me, I want to take back some of the
power he’s wielding over me.
“Get to it, little bird, show me how much you want my
dick. I want to feel the back of your throat, show me how
much of a good girl you can be.”
More tears fall from my eyes and I close them, hiding
from him in the only way I can.
“Open your eyes, no hiding,” he demands as if he can
read my thoughts.
Leaning forward, I part my lips, my eyes locked on him
as I engulf the head with my mouth. His skin is warm,
almost hot, and a wave of something that feels a lot like
desire washes over me.
“Jesus fuck, your mouth feels amazing,” he rasps, his
fingers tightening in my hair until pain laces across my
scalp.
I suck on the head until his hips start to move, pushing
his length farther into my mouth. “That’s it, little bird, all
the way in, show me how good a cock sucker you can be.
I’m going to take your mouth every fucking day, so you
need to learn how to get me off.”
Trying to move, I start to withdraw my mouth, letting his
dick slide out, but he doesn’t allow it, holding my head
firmly in place and pushing his cock down my throat until I
gag. I slap at his legs, but he doesn’t release me. His
fingers tangled in my hair, he holds me in place, my nose
pressed against his groin for a long second, until eventually
he lets me pull back and I gasp for air the moment my
throat isn’t full of his dick.
I’ve barely got my breath before he’s pushing back into
my throat again, only this time he doesn’t hold me there,
allowing me to set the pace and depth as he groans words
of encouragement.
“Fuck, little bird, that’s good, so fucking good.”
“Don’t stop, god, don’t fucking stop.”
By the time my jaw begins to ache, I’m enjoying myself,
it’s not the act necessarily, but the power I feel as I’m doing
it. His dick is in my mouth, one clamp of my teeth and I
could literally bite his cock in half. Right now he’s at my
mercy, his pleasure completely dependent on me.
“I’m coming, baby, swallow it all, don’t lose any of it,” he
growls animalistically, holding my hair tightly and keeping
me in place as he comes in my mouth in thick spurts that
hit the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow
instinctively.
When his hips stop jerking and his cock starts to soften,
he drags my head away and smiles down at me with a look
of… awe on his face? Grabbing me beneath my arms, he
pulls me from the floor, holding me to his chest as he kisses
me almost reverently. I know I’m not the first person to
suck his cock, but for whatever reason, he seems
ecstatically happy with me right now.
“Fuck, little bird, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect. I
love you so damn much,” he praises, before his lips find
mine and he kisses me again, not caring that his cum was
in my mouth only moments ago.
I melt into his embrace, then remind myself that I’m his
prisoner and force myself to pull away and stiffen. “I have
class.”
“You could stay home,” he cajoles, his smile charming
and compelling.
“It’s the first day.”
“Fine,” he sighs dramatically, flinging himself down onto
the bed to watch me get dressed.
My meager belongings have been added to the row of
new clothes in the closet, looking shabby and cheap beside
the expensive designer offerings he’s bought. No matter
how nice the clothes are, I don’t want anything from him,
so I ignore all of the beautiful things in favor of my ratty
denim shorts and a plain tank top I bought at Target.
“Keep the shorts, but change the top,” he remarks when
I step out of the closet fully dressed.
“I like this tank.”
“I can see your nipples.”
“No you can’t, I have a bralette on.”
“Starling, change the shirt. Now.”
With a scowl, I turn and head back into the closet,
stripping the tank over my head and replacing it with one
of the things he got me. It’s a cropped shirt, with armholes
that are wide enough you can see all of my white lace
bralette from the sides.
“No,” he snarls.
Smirking, I spread my arms wide. “You picked this
shirt.”
“I didn’t know it’d be that sexy.”
“That’s sounds like a you problem, not a me problem,” I
shrug. “Now I need to go, or I’ll be late for class. Did you
say Clay’s my prison guard today?”
“Little bird, you’re fucking pushing it with that attitude.
Now your ass isn’t leaving this room wearing that shirt, go
change to something that covers what’s mine.”
“You’ve had a problem with the last two shirts, why
don’t you just go pick something so I can leave.”
Lips pressed together into a hard line, he climbs up off
the bed, tucks his still semihard dick into his boxer briefs
and storms past me and into the closet. The sound of his
muttering filters into the bedroom and I cross my arms
over my chest and wait impatiently, tapping my foot against
the wooden flooring.
“Here, put this on,” he says, stomping out of the closet
and holding out one of his T-shirts for me to wear.
“Fine, whatever,” I say, pulling the tank over my head
and replacing it with his shirt. It’s huge on my much
smaller frame, so I quickly roll the hem up and tie it in a
knot at my hip, then fold the sleeves over so they fit a little
better.
Perhaps another girl would be bothered that they’re
wearing a huge guy’s shirt, but I really don’t care what I
wear. Instead of fighting with him, which would mean
exchanging more words than I want to, I just grab my
backpack, cell phone, AirPods and Chucks and leave the
room without a single glance back in his direction.
I find the other guys all in the kitchen. Hunter is flipping
pancakes on a griddle, while Evan is sitting at the dining
table and Clay is leaning against the counter.
“Inmate Kennedy, reporting, sir,” I drawl sarcastically to
Clay.
“You need to eat, I made you breakfast,” Hunter says,
flashing me a soft smile.
“No, thanks.”
“You need to eat, you ran miles this morning,” Evan
agrees.
“The asshole upstairs already made me change my shirt
three times, I’m late, I’m ready to leave.”
“Starling, can we please just call a truce?” Evan begs.
“I’ll wait outside, if I’m late you can explain the reason
why,” I say, ignoring Evan and speaking directly to Clay.
Turning my back on all of them, I march out the front door,
inhaling deeply and trying to find that elusive, full breath
that’s eluded me since I came back to Florida.
“Here,” Clay says, appearing beside me, holding out a
banana and a bottle of water.
The moment the gates slide open wide enough for me to
fit through, I stride away, trying to figure out a way to
escape without him realizing. Pushing my AirPods into my
ears, I drown out the sound of him with some old-school
’90s angry-girl music. The dulcet tones of Alanis Morrisette
fill my ears and I manage to block out all thoughts of Elite,
Collinwood House and anything else that’s related to
Sebastian Lockwood. Instead, I focus on the crescendo that
the music is building inside of me. I try not to think about
the fact that my mom calls this album the sound of her
puberty, or that it was her who told me to listen to it one
day when I was filled with teenage hormone-induced rage.
By the time I reach the building my very first college class
is being held in, I’m angry and empowered. I am woman
hear me roar.
“I’ll be here when your class finishes,” Clay tells me.
“Fantastic, I can hardly wait,” I deadpan, flashing him
my middle finger as I open the door to my classroom and
walk inside. Intro to economics is quite possibly the most
boring class I’ve ever taken, but as I have no idea what I
want to major in, I figure I might as well get as many of my
required general ed classes out of the way in my first
semester.
After two years of avoiding people and friendships, I’ve
got becoming invisible down to a fine art. Most people
think that sitting at the back of a class makes you
unapproachable, but that’s where they have it wrong, you
actually need to be a row or two away from the front. No
one likes the people who sit on the front row, but they
never notice the mediocre middle people, so that’s who I’ve
become. Two rows from the front, two-thirds of the way
along the row, I’m in the perfect position to be completely
unremarkable. Or at least that’s what I’d be if the beautiful
Clay Jansen wasn’t waiting right outside the classroom
doors for me the moment the bell rings to signal the end of
class.
He's the type of attractive that it’s impossible to ignore,
so all my hard work to blend into the crowd is destroyed
when everyone watches him smile widely at me. Ignoring
him, I pass him as if he’s a complete stranger, but he races
to catch up with me and slings his arm over my shoulders.
“Your next class isn’t for an hour, I thought we could go
grab a coffee and maybe something to eat.”
 “No thanks.”
“Okay, so what do you want to do for the next hour?”
“I don’t really care what you do, but I plan to go sit my
ass down under that tree over there and read,” I say
tersely, walking to a tree and sliding down the trunk until
my ass is rested against the roots in the grass.
I ignore Clay as he paces in front of me, obviously at a
loss for what to do. Eventually, he sinks to the ground
beside me and sighs dramatically. “We’re trying to fix
things,” he says after an interminably long silence.
I try to ignore him, engaging with any of them is futile,
but I find myself eager to understand them, at least in this.
Lowering my cell to my lap, I exhale, lift my head and stare
at him. “Why?”
“Because we don’t want you to hate us.”
I’m disappointed by his answer, I’m not sure what I was
expecting, but I wanted, no needed something more than
just that lame, surface-level explanation.
“What does it matter if I hate you? We’re not friends, we
never have been. I’d never spoken a single word to any of
you before the day Sebastian took over my life. He didn’t
ruin our relationship, we never had one. So be honest, just
be fucking honest, what difference does it make if I hate
you all?”
His eyes flash with hurt, but what does he have to be
hurt about?
“Did Bastian tell you that he spotted you on your very
first day at GAA?”
“Probably, he’s said a lot of bullshit, I try not to listen.”
Clay laughs a little brittlely. “Well, he did. He saw you in
the group of new freshmen and he literally stumbled over
his own feet just at the sight of you. For him it was instant.
Love at first sight or whatever you want to call it. But he
knew he couldn’t approach you. You were a freshman,
freshmen are untouchable, even to The Elite.”
 “This is a cute story and all, but what does this have to
do with you?”
“We followed you.”
“Excuse me?”
“He wanted you to be safe, so we followed you. Me,
Evan and Hunter, we followed you, learned everything we
could about you, because he loved you.”
“I was barely fifteen and he was what? Sixteen, almost
seventeen? Did none of you ever just put his want for me
down as a childish crush? Normal people don’t obsess over
a girl they’ve never spoken to, they don’t have them
followed, stalked. They walk up to them and say, hey.”
Clay smiles a soft, aw-shucks smile. “Our families make
alliances. We don’t marry for love, we marry to create
bonds with other rich families, it’s old fashioned, but it’s
how the rich stay rich and powerful. If Bastian had been
older when he saw you, he wouldn’t have been able to
pursue you, because his family would already have had
someone lined up for him to marry. Claiming you when he
did, before he even knew your name is the only way his
parents would have even allowed him to take you out on a
date.”
“So you, Evan and Hunter already have fiancées?” I ask
skeptically.
“My parents are in talks with the La Mar family, there’s
been talk about Hunter and the Hollins girl and Evan was
expected to marry Bunny Lawrence, but your mom is
putting up some resistance about an arranged marriage
that Harry is indulging at the minute.”
I’m shocked by how calmly he’s talking about marrying
a girl he doesn’t care for, like it’s a business arrangement,
which I suppose it is. “This still doesn’t explain why you
care if I hate you.”
He sighs, wearily. “Because for a whole year we got to
know you, we watched you work too hard, watched you
with Courtney, with your mom, we felt like we knew you,
like you were one of us. You are one of us. Bastian is my
brother, so that makes you my sister. I’ve never had a
sibling before, but I want us to be friends, for you to rely on
us.”
His words and his expression are earnest, almost
hopeful, but instead of feeling sympathy, I’m outraged.
“You think of me like a sister?” I ask, needing to see if
I’m understanding what he’s saying.
“Yes,” he nods eagerly.
“If I were your sister, would you want my life to be
completely controlled by a man?”
His eyes cloud, but I don’t stop. “As your sister, would
you want me to be in a powerless relationship where I was
being held against my will, where in a fit of anger a man
isolated me, removed all the meaningful relationships in my
life until all I had left was him? Would you want your sister
to be held captive by that man, forced to have sex with that
man and used for his pleasure without thought for if that
was something she wanted?”
He fidgets uncomfortably from his spot on the floor.
“It’s”
I interrupt him. “Are you going to say it’s not like that?
Because from where I’m sitting, it’s exactly like that.
Sebastian strolled into my life when I was barely sixteen
years old and declared I was his. When I was so unhappy
and lonely that I ran to the other side of the country to get
away from him, he threw a tantrum and destroyed my
relationship with my mother. Years later, he orchestrated a
situation that has left me yet again vulnerable and isolated,
only this time, he took my virginity and is literally holding
me captive in a very expensive cage.”
Clay swallows thickly. “Did he.” He pauses, swallows
again and then speaks. “Did he rape you?”
I laugh and the sound is dark and hollow. “Does it
matter?”
He nods. “Yes, it does.”
 “And what if he did? What would you do if I told you that
he raped me?”
“I’d take you to the police and I’d make sure he got what
he deserved.”
“So, stalking and imprisonment is okay, but you draw
the line at rape?” I scoff. “I’ll have to remember that.”
“Oh fuck, he raped you, didn’t he? Jesus, fuck, I didn’t, I
didn’t… Let’s go, I’ll take you now, we’ll go to the police,
now. Did he, er did he hurt you, I mean other than that? Oh
fuck,” Clay’s rambling, his words coming out in an almost
indistinguishable rush as he jumps up from the grass and
holds out his hand for me to take, then immediately drops it
to his side again. “I’m sorry, of course you don’t want me to
touch you, I let him… fuck.”
“He didn’t rape me.” I could have said he did, I could
have used this as a way to get my revenge, to get away
from them once and for all, but it would be a lie. As much
as I wish everything he’d done to me had been taken, the
moment he touches me, I’m more than willing.
“He, he didn’t?”
“No, although it’s nice to know you do have a conscience
in there somewhere.”
“I would never, not knowingly.”
“But you didn’t know, did you? You let him force me to
sleep in his bed, not knowing or really caring what he’d do
to me, or if I’d be okay with it. Is that any different really?”
I ask.
His hands are shaking as he runs them through his hair,
pressing his lips together in a firm line. I swear there are
tears in his eyes, but before I have a chance to ask him, he
shakes his head. “You’re right, it’s no better.” Then he
turns and walks away, leaving me alone, sitting on the
grass, watching him go.

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 SEBASTIAN

C lay’s face is tight and pale when he throws open the

front door and storms into the kitchen. “Did you rape
her?”
“What?”
“Did you rape her?”
“No, of course I fucking didn’t, I love her. Where the
fuck is she?”
“When I left her she was sitting beneath a tree. But
that’s not important, I want you to look me in the eye and
promise on her life that you didn’t fucking rape her.”
Standing, I cross the room to where one of my best
friends is looking at me like I’m a fucking monster and stop
when I’m only inches from him. Then I lock eyes with his. “I
didn’t rape her.”
He nods, then steps back and rubs at his face with his
hands.
“Did she tell you I did?”
Laughing, he shakes his head, his eyes glassy. “No, she
said you didn’t rape her, but she did make me see things a
little more from her fucking side. We can’t do this. We can’t
keep her here. I know you call her little bird, but she’s a
human and she doesn’t want this. I won’t be her jailer
anymore.”
 “Me either,” Evan says, appearing in the doorway. “And I
know Hunter doesn’t want this either. It’s wrong, bro. She’s
so fucking different, so fucking broken and we did that to
her. You need to leave her alone and pay for some fucking
therapy for all the damage we’ve done to her.”
“I can’t let her go,” I confess.
“This Starling isn’t the girl you fell in love with. She’s
fundamentally different, the shit we’ve put her through, it
changed her and the truth is, bro, you don’t know her, not
really. You know stuff about her, but you don’t know her,”
Evan tells me.
“I love her.”
“I know,” he says sadly. “But she doesn’t love you. She
doesn’t even like you. She hates all of us and she should.”
“I can’t just let her go, I can’t.”
“Even if you’ll know she was never with you by choice,
that she’ll never feel anything but hatred for you?” Clay
asks.
“She wants me.”
“Bro, we’re a walking fucking example that you don’t
need to have feelings for someone to have sex with them.
Lust is a hormone; it doesn’t mean anything. Sex is just
sex.”
“She’s mine,” I say, the words sounding so right on my
lips.
“Is she? Or are you just hers?” Clay asks quietly.

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 STARLING

A s I watch Clay disappear from sight, I wonder if this is

all some elaborate trick Sebastian has come up with to
test me to see if I’ll run. It’s the type of thing he’d do, allow
me a long enough chain to hang myself with and then enjoy
punishing me for trying to get away from him.
For a moment I think about just leaving, walking out of
the gates and not looking back, but what’s the point if he’ll
just go back to having people watching me twenty-four
seven? I might as well be here and getting a good college
degree. I’m a prisoner either way, because I was never free
of him, even when I thought I was.
I wait for Clay to come back, or for Sebastian to hunt me
down, but no one comes and in the end, I decide to just go
to class. If he really does have eyes on me then he’ll know
where I am. My English class is a little more interesting
than econ, and my sociology class even has me sitting
forward in my seat as I listen to the professor speak
passionately about the study of people and the things we’re
going to be looking at.
When no one is waiting for me at the end of the period, I
make my way over to the cafeteria and pick some food,
choosing to take it to an empty table in the courtyard,
rather than share with other students.
 Sammy, the girl who followed me to freshmen
orientation, spots me, shouting my name as she makes a
beeline across the courtyard. Dropping her tray to the
table, she plops down into the seat opposite me. “We
should exchange cell numbers, that way we could arrange
to meet for lunch when we can,” she says enthusiastically.
“Er, yeah I’m not sure of my schedule yet,” I tell her,
considering just dumping my lunch like I had the day she
decided to join me for breakfast. But I’m hungry, except for
the sandwich Hunter made me and Sebastian forced me to
eat, I don’t actually remember the last time I had a proper
meal. My stomach feels hollow and empty, and the burger
I’ve picked smells amazing, so instead of leaving, I ignore
her and eat while she has a completely one-sided
conversation, telling me all about her first two classes and
her sex-crazed housemates.
“I swear all they’ve done is have sex since the moment
we got here, I found the six of them all doing it at the same
time in the living room the other day. My house is like a
permanent orgy, which is fine, more power to them, but I
don’t want to touch anything, just in case there’s fluid or
something on it. I spoke to student housing, but they said
there’re no rooms in any of the other houses on campus at
the minute and I either have to just deal with it till someone
moves out, or rent a place off campus.”
Instead of paying attention, I zone her out and daydream
about Sebastian fucking me in the kitchen or the living
room and the guys walking in on us. The thought is kind of
hot. None of the others are remotely sexually attractive to
me, although they’re all beautiful men, but the idea of them
watching Sebastian fuck me, is much more appealing than
it should be.
My body starts to heat as I imagine him bending me
over the kitchen counter, his dick pounding into me while
Hunter, Clay and Evan watch him play my body until I’m
nothing but need and sensation, begging the man I hate to
make me scream in the way only he knows how.
“Starling. Starling,” Sammy calls, dragging me from my
dirty daydream and forcing me back to the present.
“Sorry, what?”
“I was asking if you fancied doing something tonight?
We could go out for drinks or just hang out at your house.
Which house are you in again?”
“Collinwood,” I tell her, instantly regretting it.
“Collinwood is one of the private houses, is your family
alumni?”
“Er, no, but my mom’s new husband’s family is. I’m here
on a scholarship, but I’m assuming he pulled strings to
have me put in the house rather than the normal
scholarship housing.”
“But that house is owned by…” she trails off. “What did
you say your surname was?”
Shoving the last bite of my burger into my mouth, I
stand abruptly, grabbing my tray. “Sorry, I have plans
tonight.” Dumping the remaining food into the trash, I hoist
my backpack onto both shoulders and walk away.
I only have one more class today, so I head straight over
to the gym for the university-required PE course I have to
take. Luckily, the class description said it was a free-form
exercise requirement, with no grades, just mandatory
attendance. Signing in on the sheet, I follow the other
people into a huge gymnasium and take a seat in the
bleachers. A few minutes later, an instructor arrives and
hands out a sheet listing all the exercise classes that are
available, as well as use of the indoor running track, weight
gym and swimming pool. All we have to do to pass is spend
an hour and a half here twice a week. After that we all head
for the changing rooms and I switch out my clothes for a
sports bra and a pair of running shorts and head for the
yoga class that’s on today’s list.
 There’re only a handful of other attendees, but by the
time the class has ended I feel calm and relaxed.
“Hey,” a male voice says as I make my way out of the
yoga studio and over to the running track, intending to do a
couple of laps just to warm down.
“Hey,” I say, barely acknowledging him.
“I’m Chase.”
“Starling.”
“Do you wanna run together?” he asks hopefully.
“I’m just going to do a couple of laps to warm down.”
“That’s okay, I’ll use it as my warm-up,” he smiles. He’s
tall, but not as tall as Sebastian, broad like a football player
maybe, or at least athletic.
Not saying anything else, I walk to the edge of the track
and then break into a light jog. He keeps pace at my side
for the first half of a lap.
“Are you a freshman? I don’t think I’ve seen you around
here before.”
“Yep.”
“Cool, I’m a sophomore.”
I nod, but don’t speak. Another half a lap passes before
he speaks again.
“You’re making me feel a little pathetic here,” he laughs.
“Hmm,” I say, not agreeing or disagreeing.
“So pretty loyal to your high school boyfriend?” he
smiles.
“Nope, just not interested.”
“Harsh,” he laughs. “I’m on the football team if that
makes a difference?”
“None.”
“Wow. Friends then?”
“I’m good, thanks. Enjoy the rest of your run.” Then I jog
off the edge of the track and over to the changing rooms.
Not bothering to shower or change, I stuff my clothes into
my backpack and sign out before exiting the gym and turn
to walk back to my beautiful prison.
 The entire journey back to the house, I’m on edge,
waiting for Sebastian to jump out on me, to drag me back
to my cage and refuse to let me go again. By the time I
push open the front door, I’m practically vibrating with
nerves. He’ll know I was speaking to that guy and sitting
with Sammy at lunch, he’ll know I was interested in my
sociology class and somehow, he’ll find a way to use it
against me.
The house is quiet as I step inside, but not empty, I can
feel the intensity of his presence.
“Starling,” he calls from the living room that I’ve yet to
step inside.
“What?”
“Come here please.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to go fuck himself,
but he’s got me so paranoid, so tense and worried that all
of this is one of his fucked-up games, that I find myself
walking into the living room. Instead of waiting to pounce,
he’s sitting in a chair, his hair unusually disheveled, his
expression sad, pained almost. The others are in here too,
slumped into their seats and all wearing matching forlorn
expressions.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Would you join us please?” Sebastian asks, pointing to
one of the empty chairs.
“I’d rather not.”
“Please,” Evan says, imploringly.
I sit down on the edge of the chair, bracing myself for
whatever fucked-up thing is going to come out of their
mouths.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian utters.
“Okay,” I say slowly.
“I’m so fucking sorry. I love you, I love you more than
anything, but this was wrong, it was all so fucking wrong
and I’m just. I’m sorry.”
 “Is this some kind of joke? Because honestly, it’s not
funny.”
“Jesus,” he hisses. “Look, you’re free to go, the doors
and gates will all open, I won’t stop you from leaving and
no one will follow you, at least not like before. I’m not sure
I’ll ever be able to go without knowing you’re at least safe,
but I promise they won’t ever tell me where you are or
what you’re doing and they’ll never intervene unless you’re
in danger. You’ll never have to see me again; I’ll stay away
from any event where we would both be expected to
attend. I’ll even tell Cassidy the truth, if that’s what you
want.”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here, I shouldn’t have said
or done the things I’ve done since I got you back. I’m sorry
about your mom, I never thought things would go this far, I
thought you’d come back, I thought you’d fall out for a
couple of weeks and then you’d make up. I know you won’t
believe me, but I never wanted to destroy your relationship
with her, I just wanted to punish you for leaving me.”
A dry, brittle laugh bursts from me. “So you’re telling me
that last night, when you told me what I wanted didn’t
matter and I should just do as I’m told from the cage you
created for me, has suddenly changed to, go be free? I’m
sorry,” I scoff. “You’ll have to excuse me if I call bullshit.”
“We don’t want you to leave,” Evan says. “But we
understand if you want to. There’s an open plane ticket on
your bed that can be exchanged for a ticket to anywhere in
the world. If you choose to go, none of us will stop you.”
“If I choose to leave?”
“You could stay,” Sebastian says hopefully.
“With you?”
“No.” His voice is sad, but resigned. “But Kingsacre is
one of the best private universities in the country. Your
tuition is covered, as is your room here and your meal
plan.”
 “What’s the catch? There’s always a catch with you. Let
me guess, I can stay, but in your bed, or to be at your beck
and call whenever you want your dick sucked? Or maybe
you want to marry me, so you don’t have to allow your
parents to arrange a political marriage for you?”
“No catch, no loopholes.”
“I don’t believe you. Why go to all the trouble of
arranging to get me here and then less than a week after
you capture me, let me go?”
“Because contrary to what you believe, I’m not a
monster, or at least I don’t want to be.” He swallows
thickly. “I don’t want you to think of me as nothing more
than a monster.”
“So if I walk outside, the gate will open for me?” I ask
dubiously.
“Yes.”
“And if I keep on walking, straight out the entrance
gates and onto a bus, you won’t stop me?”
“I’d prefer it if you’d let one of us call you a cab, but no,
no one will stop you.”
Getting up, I walk away from them, not believing what
he’s saying and needing to see it for myself. Opening the
front door, I stride outside, gasping when the gates start to
swing open the moment I approach them. Cautiously I step
forward, glancing over my shoulder, waiting for the
moment that he chases me, but the door stays closed and
no one comes.
What the hell is going on? This has to be a game, it’s the
only thing that makes sense. Spinning around, I march
back into the house and straight into the living room,
where all four guys are still sitting. “The gate opened.”
Sebastian nods, his hands clenched together and rested
on his knees, his head lowered.
“I don’t understand this game.”
“It’s not a game. I’m going to fix things between you and
your mom. I’ll leave you alone, or I’ll try to. I can go. If you
want to stay and you don’t want me here, I’ll leave.”
“Leave my mom alone,” I snap.
“I’m going to tell her everything, that it’s my fault.”
“No you won’t. My mom’s an adult, she could have
believed me, like my dad did, but she chose not to. I’m not
interested in her being sorry only after you tell her she
should be.”
“Starling, she misses you,” Evan says, a pleading tone in
his voice.
“I can’t help that.”
“All of your belongings are back in your room, as well as
all the things I bought for you. You can keep them, sell
them or give them away, they’re yours to do whatever you
want with. If you decide to leave, let me know which school
you want to attend and I’ll ensure you receive the
acceptance you would have gotten had I not intervened and
of course, I’ll cover your tuition.”
“Just like that? You pull all this shit to get me here and
under your thumb and just like that you’re giving up and
setting me free? Was this all just about sex? What, now
you’ve had me I’ve lost the appeal?” My brows are knitted
together and I can feel anger building in me, ready to
explode.
“Little bird, if you tell me that you want me, this, that
you think you can forgive all the shit I’ve done, that there’s
even the faintest hope that you could love me the way I love
you then I’ll lock the door and keep you tied to me for the
rest of eternity. Is that the case? Do you want to be with
me?”
“No,” I say a little too quick.
Nodding, he stands and starts to leave. Pausing beside
me, he grabs my chin in gently shaking fingers and kisses
me reverently. “I love you, little bird.” Then he strides
quickly away, the sound of his heavy footsteps filling the
silence until the crash of his bedroom door slamming shut
ricochets through the house.
 “We’re all sorry, Starling, we were all complicit in what’s
happened to you, but I promise you we won’t mess with you
or your life anymore. I know you don’t care but we’d like
you to stay, this is a great school, better than the others
you applied to. Use us and this opportunity, take back a
little of what we took from you,” Evan says solemnly as one
by one, the three remaining boys stand and exit the room,
until I’m alone wondering what the fuck just happened.
It takes me fifteen minutes before the shell shock wears
off and I’m capable of moving. Slowly I climb the stairs to
my room in the turret, testing the door several times before
I’m confident that I’m not locked inside.
All of my belongings have been replaced in the spots I
unpacked them into, my tiny selection of clothes mixed with
the closetful of expensive designer things Sebastian bought
for me. Dragging my case from beneath the bed, my hands
shake as I begin pulling things from the rod and shoving
them inside. It isn’t until I’m zipping the bag closed that I
start to wonder if I’m doing the right thing.
Two years ago I fled from Sebastian, but really, what
good did that do me? I’m older now, but all running got me
was a broken soul and a laundry list of mental health
issues. Will running again make things any better? In the
back of my head, I’ve always questioned what would have
happened if I’d just stood my ground and fought back,
would he have backed down?
I’m not sure what prompted his change of heart today,
maybe it was my conversation with Clay, or the multiple
emotional meltdowns I’ve had since he stepped back into
my orbit. But whatever it was, maybe this time I don’t have
to run to be free of him.
This could all still just be a game, but the open plane
ticket voucher is here, just where they said it would be. It
can be my emergency backup plan, my escape. Evan told
me to use them, use this opportunity and perhaps I should.
Could I stay here? Live in this house, with them, him?
 Thoughts of revenge taste sweet on my tongue as I
consider it, but would that make me as fucked up as them?
Maybe getting on with my life here could be the biggest
revenge I could gain. Sebastian has always thrived on his
control over me, even when I wasn’t even in the same state
as him. Being here, right under his nose but outside of his
control, would be torture for him.
The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. I
could make friends, date, test his control over and over
again until he cracks, then I’ll leave and when I do, it won’t
be because I’m running away, it’ll be because I’ll have
taken everything I can, everything I need. Then I’ll have the
sweetest revenge ever, by moving on and never thinking
about him ever again.

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 SEBASTIAN

T wo weeks. That’s how long I’ve been forced to see her,

smell her, watch her, but not touch her. It’s pure, raw
torture and I hate it. I expected her to run. I thought she’d
be gone by the next morning, but instead she shocked us
all by staying, sashaying out of her room at five in the
morning in her running gear and heading out the door, like
it was the most normal thing in the world for her to do.
My eyes never left the tracking app for a second of the
hour she was gone, and the only reason I stopped myself
from following her, was because her security team tracked
her progress through the cameras I had installed on every
inch of the route we ran together.
She hasn’t uttered a single word to any of us, not even a
grunt in acknowledgment of our existence. But now that
the gates and doors always open for her whenever she
leaves, she’s starting to relax, at least when I’m not around.
My body aches for her. Knowing she’s here, knowing
how she feels and tastes and sounds but not being able to
touch is like a physical pain that only seems to be getting
worse with every moment that passes without her. She was
mine for a day, but in that short space of time, I gave her
my soul and without it I’m hardly more than a shell.
She watches me when she thinks I’m not looking. I can
feel her eyes on me, and I spend hours watching back the
footage from the security cameras in the shared spaces of
the house to see her staring at me. There’re cameras in her
room too, but I made Clay promise to never let me view
them no matter how much I beg or threaten him. Of course,
I can access them if I really want to, but no one but me
knows that.
She’s wary of me and I know a part of her is still waiting
for me to drop the facade and reclaim what will always be
mine. But there’s also heat in her glares, a spark of want
hidden beneath all the hatred. She might despise me, but
she enjoys the passion that flares between us the moment
we touch.
If only she knew all the things I want to do to her. How I
fantasize about tying her to my bed and locking the door,
kissing her and fucking her until she’s so drunk from all the
orgasms I’ve given her that she’ll forget why she hates me
and falls in love with me. I dream about plucking her off the
path when she runs in the dark and kidnapping her,
keeping her my prisoner in an actual golden cage made just
for her.
My fantasies are becoming more and more disturbing
with every moment that passes when she’s not mine.
I’m still following her.
I’m not sure I’ll ever stop, but I stay at a distance, not
letting her feel my presence like I did during her first
couple of days on campus. Back then I wanted her to know
she was being watched, now I just simply can’t look away.
She made a friend. The same girl who latched onto my
little bird on her way to freshmen orientation. Samantha
Hartley is a freshman too, her family is old money, rich, but
not as wealthy as they used to be. She lives in Alistern
House with six other people who appear to be three sets of
open-minded couples. According to Clay’s research, the six
of them rarely attend classes and instead use their time to
vigorously attempt to impregnate each other in every part
of the house.
 The three girls are the Attingham triplets, whose family
is on the verge of bankruptcy. It appears that the girls are
aware that they need to secure wealthy spouses and
instead of an education, they’re using Kingsacre as
husband-hunting ground. Considering one out of the three
sisters is already pregnant and it’s only the third week of
the school year, their plan seems to be coming together.
Their unwitting victims are Tim Grimes, Nicholas Farris
and Chris Morgan-Baraclough. All relatively new money
and seemingly unaware of their latest fuck buddies’
financial precariousness.
Sammy isn’t a bad choice of a friend for my little bird, I
might have promised to stay out of my girl’s life, but that
was never going to happen. There’s no way I’ll allow
anyone around her who’s going to hurt her. Clay has made
it his mission to befriend Starling, even though she’s
rebuffed all of his attempts so far. Evan is desperately
trying to use the stepbrother card to force a relationship
with her and Hunter is determined to feed her.
None of it is working, she still hates us.
It’s been two weeks since I told her I was sorry, that I
promised her I’d leave her alone.
I lied.
She’s mine and I can’t let her go, not even if I wanted to.
The game has changed, but the result will still be the same,
she’ll be mine. Only this time she’ll think it’s her choice.
The front door opens and I know it’s her before she even
steps into the house. My skin buzzes with awareness the
moment she’s close, like every atom in me knows when
she’s in my orbit. I want to grab her by the throat, pin her
to the wall and rip her clothes from her until she’s naked
and wet and begging for my cock.
I miss the feeling of being inside of her. I promised her
all my cum was for her, that from now on whenever I came
it would be in her or on her, but after two weeks, my balls
are bluer than fucking Papa Smurf. I’ve had much longer
dry spells, the two and a half years she was in Maine were
hell, but once you’ve had perfection, everything else pales
in comparison. If I can’t be inside her, I’d rather keep my
dick in my pants. At least back then I had my hand.
Whacking off isn’t exactly my first choice, but it was still a
release, now I don’t even have that. The moment she’s back
in my arms, I’m going to fuck her so hard and so often my
cum will be dripping out of her constantly for at least the
first six months.
During the two years I spent at Harvard before I
transferred to Kingsacre, I almost killed myself with a
heavy class load, knowing that once I got here with her, I
wouldn’t want to be too busy with schoolwork to focus on
her. If I wanted to, I have enough credits to graduate this
year, but instead I’m just taking a couple of courses and the
rest of my time is all about her.
All the air seems to evaporate from the room the
moment she steps into the kitchen, freezing midstep when
she sees me sitting at the table. Of course I’m only here
because I’m waiting for her, but I don’t say that. Instead I
let sadness fill my eyes and allow my shoulders to curl
forward. I’m the image of a kicked puppy. Sad, alone and
rejected.
After a second, she starts to move again, dashing to the
refrigerator and opening the door to peek inside. We all
have a meal plan to eat three meals a day in the cafeteria,
but Hunter and Clay love to cook, so we keep a fully
stocked pantry of fresh ingredients. I also make sure
there’s a constant supply of the snacks my little bird likes
to eat.
No matter how many times the guys offer, she always
refuses to eat with us, but she’s not above taking snacks to
eat in her room. Reaching in, she pulls out an apple and the
jar of peanut butter. It goes rock hard and almost
impossible to spread if you keep it in the refrigerator, but
she likes it like that so that’s where we leave it.
 Getting up, I cross to the drinks cooler and pull out a
bottle of beer. “Beer?” I ask her, deliberately not making
eye contact.
She jolts like I’ve hit her, but I try not to react, taking
out a second bottle and offering it to her as I walk back to
the table, fighting the urge to brush up against her. She
takes the bottle from me then stares down at it, like she’s
not sure how it got into her hand.
“How are you finding your classes so far?” I ask,
twisting the top off the beer and bringing it to my lips. The
liquid is cold and I take a long pull before lowering it down
to the table.
“I never took you for a beer drinker.”
I stifle a smile, forcing my eyes to stay downcast and
pathetic. “No? What kind of drinker did you take me for?”
Her eyes widen, like she’s shocked herself by speaking
to me. The truth is, no matter how much she thinks she
hates me and my obsession with her, it’s become
omnipresent in her life. I was the big bad wolf, hiding in the
shadows, a constant in her world and without me, she’s
adrift, lost.
I want to say her name, to force her to speak, to answer
me, but I can’t, so instead I wait, pretending that it doesn’t
kill me to not be able to control her.
“Whiskey, or maybe a mixed drink,” she says after so
long I’d almost given up on her answering.
“I do enjoy a good single malt,” I say, smirking at the
table where my elbows are resting.
Out of the corner of my eye I watch her look at the
bottle warily, then carefully twist the top off and take a
tentative sip, grimacing as she swallows.
“Oh my god that’s disgusting,” she chokes.
A chuckle slips from my lips, but I still keep my eyes
from hers, standing and crossing to the cooler. Pulling
down one of the strawberry wine coolers I bought for her, I
offer it out to her. “Here, try this.” She doesn’t move so I
take the beer from her hands, and swap it for the cooler,
then slide back into my seat.
To her, I hopefully look calm and distant, which is
exactly what I want her to see. Inside I’m roiling with the
urge to tackle her to the ground, pin her with my body and
sink my cock into her so deep she can taste my cum in the
back of her throat. I want to breed her, own her, brand her.
I want to dominate every aspect of her life until she can’t
even breathe without looking at me for permission. A part
of me knows that my thoughts have gone from primal to
fucking psychopathic, but I just don’t seem to be able to do
anything about it.
Not speaking, I ignore my own beer and instead lift hers
to my lips and drink. I swear I can taste her sweet breath
on the rim and I close my eyes and exhale happily, content
for a second just from sharing something she’s had on her
lips.
The twist of the metal top crunching fills the silence,
then the hiss of carbonation as she lifts the bottle to her
lips and drinks. “Mmm,” she hums.
“Better?”
“Much. Strawberry is my favorite.”
“I know.”
“Oh,” she says quietly. “Did you? Did you buy these for
me?” It sounds like it pains her to ask, like it hurts her that
I would know she’d like something and buy it for her, but
I’ve always been generous with her, even when she didn’t
want me to be.
“Yes,” I nod.
“Oh.”
She shuffles from foot to foot, like she wants to run from
me, but also wants to stay. This is what I need. Even an
inch of hesitation is enough for me to start to wheedle my
way back into her life again. “I didn’t force you, did I?” I
pose it like a question, but I know I didn’t. She might hate
me, but that’s never stopped her body from responding to
me, craving me.
The bottle slips from her hands, but somehow I reach
out in time to stop it from crashing to the floor. Suddenly,
I’m next to her, only a handful of inches between us.
“Tell me the truth,” I whisper, leaning imperceptibly into
her body and waiting for her to react.
“No, you didn’t. You didn’t force me,” she whispers
back, her pupils dilating at my nearness, her breathing
becoming audible. I need to be careful not to push her, if I
take too much now, she’ll only put up stronger walls next
time. I’ve lost control for the moment, but I’ll get it back. I
can’t take it from her like I did when she was barely
sixteen, this time I’m going to have to seduce it from her.
Letting her feel like she holds the power while I ensnare
her in my web again. I’m still her cage, only this time she’ll
be the one locking herself in, not me.
“Hunter’s making pasta tonight, you should join us,” I
say, taking a step back and loving how her body drifts
toward me even as I pull away. She’s never had to deal with
me being the one to back away before, and I enjoy how
discombobulated it’s making her.
“Oh, I”
“It’s only dinner, housemates eating together, nothing
more. I know you don’t want to be their friends, but
perhaps this could be a first step toward tolerant
cordiality.”
“Tolerant cordiality,” she smiles. “I’m not sure that’s
ever been something to work toward, but okay, dinner.”
“Do you still have Hunter’s cell phone number? You
could text him, or I could if you’d prefer?”
“You can let him know. I have homework to get on with.”
“Sure,” I say dismissively, sliding back into my seat and
lifting my beer to my lips without even glancing her way.
Her surprise and possibly annoyance follow her all the way
out of the room and upstairs.
 I hold back my smile until I hear the door to her room
close. “You’ll be mine again soon, little bird.”

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 STARLING

W hat the actual fuck?

Sebastian Lockwood is an asshole.
Today is the first time we’ve spoken since the day he
apologized and set me free. This boy has stalked me for
years. Years, and yet only two weeks after he told me he
loved me, that he didn’t want me to think of him as a
monster, he’s absolutely fine, like we’ve never been more
than passing acquaintances.
Fine. How can he be fine? I’m not fine. I should be, but
I’m not. After that day when I made the decision to stay, to
use this opportunity to get a great education on their dime
and a little revenge at the same time by showing him just
how little I cared about him, I spent the first three days in
full-blown panic mode. Constantly looking over my
shoulder, I jumped at the slightest noise. I slept at the
bottom of the stairs to my room, with my foot in the door,
making sure I wasn’t going to end up locked in.
It took a week before it sank in that it might be real. No
eyes on me, no one watching me, nothing. The others have
all reached out to me. Evan wants to be my brother, Clay
my friend, Hunter my personal chef. But Sebastian hasn’t
done anything. He hasn’t tried to talk to me, to see me, to
dominate me. Nothing.
 How does someone go from obsession to disinterest so
instantaneously?
I wish I could be like him. I wish I could just switch
everything off inside of me, but I can’t. Something changed
the moment he told me I was free. I don’t know what it
was, but instead of pushing him from my thoughts, my
psyche has become consumed by him.
He’s all I can think about, all I dream about. Him giving
up his obsession has created an obsession in me and I hate
it. I want to forget him, but he’s always there at the back of
my mind. I know I should leave, that being here in this
house is only fueling my madness, but leaving now feels
impossible.
When I was trapped here all I wanted was to escape, but
now I’m free, I just don’t seem to be able to walk away.
How dare he be so disinterested that he can’t even be
bothered to look in my direction. He ruined me, haunted
my waking and sleeping hours and now I’m not worth a
single glance. A fucking bottle of beer is more interesting.
Then there was that moment when he stopped my bottle
from hitting the ground and he was so close to me. Close
enough that I could feel the heat of his breath on my cheek.
I thought he would kiss me, that he’d do what he always
does and overwhelm my body with his touch, but instead he
stepped back. He was inches from me and instead of
putting his hands on me, he treated me like I was a
stranger he was offering his seat to on the bus.
He stepped back. Just moved, like being that close to me
didn’t bother him at all. I want to scream, to stomp back
downstairs and punch him in his stupid beautiful face,
because how dare he ruin me and now not even care?
Agreeing to have dinner with them all is reckless, but
the smell of the food Hunter has been cooking each night
has been driving me a little crazy after eating the tasteless
collection of food they serve in the cafeteria. The burgers
and sandwiches aren’t too bad, but the evening meals are
just so damn bland I’m at risk of dehydrating from all the
salt I’m having to douse my food in. You’d think at a school
where the tuition fees are more than the average American
makes in five years, the food would be practically Michelin
starred, but apparently cafeteria food is cafeteria food no
matter where it's made.
My skin feels tight as I strip out of my jeans and tank
and step under the cold water of my shower. I’m crazy, he’s
making me feel crazy and I hate it. The need to run claws
at my throat, so I haphazardly blot the water from my skin,
pull on my tight running shorts and a sports bra, then grab
my sneakers and armband before stomping downstairs and
out of the front door.
Sitting on the front step, I slide my feet into my shoes
and tie the laces, attach the armband and then stretch
while the gate slowly opens. I barely give my muscles a
chance to get warm before I’m sprinting. I race across
campus to the outdoor track I found when I was avoiding
returning to the house one afternoon.
Setting a blistering pace that I know I won’t be able to
maintain for long, I stride onto the track and pump my
arms, racing along the lane like the devil himself is chasing
me. I’m not sure how long I last but by the time I collapse
to a heap in the grass beside the track, my lungs are
burning and my legs feel like Jell-O.
Gasping for air, I lift my weak, sweat-soaked arms over
my face and just breathe. The familiar quiet that always
finds me when I run settles over me and I close my eyes,
basking in the desperately needed numbness.
“Here, you look like you could use this,” a male voice
says from above me.
Opening my eyes, I blink up at a familiar-looking guy
hovering over me, a bottle of water in his outstretched
hand.
“Er,” I say dumbly.
“Chase, we met at the gym a couple weeks ago.”
 “The football player,” I say through my rasping breaths.
“You remembered,” he laughs, folding himself down to a
seated position beside me. “Here.” He offers me the water
again. “It’s sealed.”
Smiling, I take the bottle from him and open it, cracking
the seal and drinking thirstily. “Thanks.”
“So are you running from something, or training for a
comp?”
“I’m definitely not a competitor,” I laugh as my
breathing starts to normalize.
“So should I be keeping an eye out for a dude in a mask
with a machete or something?”
“No,” I smile. “Just trying to outrun my personal
demons, not real ones; you know how it is.”
His expression sobers, and something that I don’t
recognize flashes through his eyes. “Ah, personal demons, I
have a few of those myself. You know what helps?”
“What?”
“Sex. Those bastard demons are allergic, sends them
running. Want to try it out?”
My eyes widen and for a brief moment I look at him and
consider it. Chase is attractive, tall, good-looking, muscled
but not in a meathead way. Sebastian might be the only
man I’ve had sex with, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t be
with anyone else. I could kiss him. I could let him touch me,
touch him in return. I could go back to his room and let him
fuck me. Only the thought literally does nothing for me. My
stomach doesn’t curl with anticipation, my sex doesn’t
pulse with heat and desire, my brain doesn’t spark with
how wrong it is but how right it feels, like it did when I was
with Sebastian. All I feel with this boy is nothingness.
“Interesting offer, but no thanks. I’m pretty fast, I don’t
need to scare the demons off when I can just outrun them.”
Rolling to my feet, I smile. “Thanks for the water, see you
later.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.”
 “I won’t,” I reply quickly, lifting my bottle in salute to
him as I turn and walk away, glad that my legs are solid
enough that I don’t stumble as I head back toward the
house.
The sounds of the guys are coming from the kitchen
when I drag my tired ass through the door, but I head
straight upstairs, showering the sweat from my skin and
then redressing in soft short shorts and the tank with the
wide armholes that flashes my bralette. The memory of the
way Sebastian looked at me when he growled and insisted I
changed—refusing to let me leave the house in something
this revealing—fills my head.
Brushing out my wet hair, I leave it loose, not bothering
to try to blot the water dripping from the ends and making
the fabric of my shirt almost opaque. I couldn’t one-
hundred-percent say that I haven’t dressed specifically for
the purpose of provoking Sebastian, though I’ll never admit
it out loud. Something inside of me needs to prove that he
still gives a crap, but I don’t understand why. What does it
matter if he still wants me or not? I don’t want to be the
object of his obsession. I just want to know that he can’t get
over me so easily, that his impact on me and my life was
more than just a passing fancy he can forget about the
moment he loses interest.
My phone beeps with a text and I immediately expect it
to be him, only when I glance at the screen, it’s not, and I
force down the wave of disappointment that sweeps
through me.

Evan: Hey Sis, Bastian said you’re having dinner with

us **Shocked face emoji** that’s awesome. Come
down, Hunter says it’ll be ready in five minutes.
My stomach churns uncomfortably at Evan calling me sis, I
know technically I am his stepsister now our parents are
married, but it feels alarmingly similar to Clay saying I felt
like their sister because I was Sebastian’s and he was their
brother. He said they felt protective of me, because they’d
watched me, which I suppose is kind of sweet; or as sweet
as stalking gets anyway.
When I pass the full-length mirror on my way to the
stairs, I take a moment to inspect my reflection. Long toned
legs, tiny shorts that cling to my ass, a glimpse of my
stomach, the loose tank that shows the hot-pink bralette
beneath. My cheeks are rosy and my skin is beginning to
tan from the Florida sun, my eyes look wide and alive for
the first time in too long to remember.
My mind refuses to think about why I look different, why
I feel more awake, more animated than I have in years. It
can’t be him. Sebastian Lockwood is the cause of all my
misery and pain, he can’t be the reason why I’m finally
coming back to life.
Pushing the disturbing thoughts to the back of my mind,
I ruffle my wet hair until it resembles more beach tousled
rather than drowned rat, and then head downstairs,
ignoring the butterflies that burst to life in my stomach.
“Starling,” Clay says excitedly the moment I step into
the kitchen, the rich smell of garlic surrounding me as
Hunter stirs a pan on the stove.
“Hey.”
“Come, sit,” Evan says enthusiastically, like an
overeager puppy.
My eyes search the room for my nemesis, but he’s not
here and I’m disappointed. What the hell is wrong with me?
I can’t be disappointed that Sebastian’s not here, there’s no
way that’s possible. I’m wary, that’s all it is. Years of
paranoid conditioning has me looking for him, nothing
more.
 “Er, is there anything I can do to help?” I ask, feeling
like I need to be on my best behavior.
“Hunter’s fine, come and sit,” Clay grins, reaching for
me and then stopping himself at the last minute.
“Thank you for offering, but it’s only pasta, as soon as
Bastian gets down here, I’ll plate up,” Hunter says, his
voice soft. Weirdly, Hunter is the one I’m the least angry
with, maybe it’s the fact that he’s always appeared to feel
bad about the things Sebastian did? He never did anything
to stop it, but I think on some level he felt how wrong it
was.
“Is he?” I swallow. “He’s eating too? I wasn’t sure.”
“We can ask him not to,” Evan offers.
“No,” I reply a little too quickly. “No, it’s fine, I just
wasn’t sure if he had class or whatever,” I trail off lamely.
All of the air is sucked from the room when he walks in.
His chest is bare and his hair is still wet. He must have just
gotten out of the shower and all he’s wearing is a pair of
loose basketball shorts, even his feet are bare. I can’t look
away.
How can I hate this man so much and still react to him
so strongly? I live with three other incredibly hot guys, and
today a cute football player suggested we have sex and my
body was tied down tighter than a submissive in a BDSM
book. But apparently the moment my tormentor, my jailer,
the man who is the cause of all of the absolute worst times
in my life steps into the room, I’m practically flooded with
arousal.
My panties are damp and I know without looking that
my nipples have tightened and pebbled in reaction to his
nearness. Every single orgasm I’ve had in the last two and
a half years has either been given by him, or was a direct
result of fantasizing about him.
But while I’m creating a lake between my legs, he has
barely glanced in my direction. He’s unaffected, completely
disinterested. He knows I’m here, I saw him look at me and
then look away as if I’m not worth even a second glance.
Two weeks ago his cock was inside of me, tearing
through my virginity and using me in a way no one has ever
done before. The things he said to me that night—that I
was his, that my cunt, my mouth, my ass all belonged to
him, that l was his cum slut, that all his seed was for me—
and now I’m nothing.
Nothing.
Maybe I am nothing to him now. I’m sure I’m not the
first girl to lose her virginity to the oh-so-great Sebastian
Lockwood. But no, he said I was his obsession, told me over
and over that I was his, that I belonged to him. If that was
true, how can he be so disinterested?
“Someone grab drinks,” Hunter says, pulling me from
my angry internal rant.
“I’ll get them, what does everyone want?” I ask.
There’s a chorus of, “Beer please,” from them all so I
pad to the drinks cooler and take out four beers and a
bottle of the strawberry wine cooler I had earlier.
“Jesus, sis, got to say, as your brother I am not loving
those shorts, your ass is hanging out of them,” Evan laughs.
“It’s a good thing you’re not really my brother and that I
don’t care what you think of my clothes,” I snark back,
putting the drinks on the table and taking the empty seat
between Clay and Evan, directly opposite Sebastian.
My gaze finds his, expecting to see his anger over
Evan’s comment about my ass, or the fact that his friends
have seen me in these tiny shorts that are incredibly small
and tight, but his expression is completely bland and his
lack of reaction makes me furious.

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 SEBASTIAN

N ot punching Evan in the face and dragging my little bird

back upstairs to rip those fucking shorts off her and
spank her ass until it’s hot and red and she knows never to
put herself on display for other men’s eyes ever again, is
the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
My eye is twitching with the concentration I’m having to
exert to keep my expression neutral and disinterested, to
not stare at her with all the anger and frustration and need
I’m actually feeling from being this close to her.
My brothers keep checking on me, waiting for me to lose
my shit, but I won’t. They all believe what I told her, that
I’m sorry; that she’s free, that I’ll stay away. I needed them
to believe. After all, if I can sell this bullshit to them, my
closest, my family, then I can convince her it’s true too.
I understand why they buckled, why they turned on me
and urged me to release my little bird. A part of me actually
appreciates how they stood against me and defended her,
but if they really thought I could walk away, that I could let
her live her life without me in it, then they’re idiots.
Starling Kennedy is mine and nothing, not them, or their
guilt, or even her can change that.
She’s wearing the shirt that I bought her, the one I made
her take off because it showed more of her tits than it
actually covered. It’s the first time she’s worn anything
from the closetful of clothes I picked for her. That’s how I
know she’s dressed just for me. She’s wearing those
ridiculous booty shorts and that shirt to provoke a reaction
from me.
I saw the way she reacted to my dismissal earlier. She
may hate me, but she loathes being ignored by me even
more. If I really was leaving her alone like I promised I
would, I’d have to leave, or make her leave. There’s no way
I could be around her and not have her be mine.
But this outfit tonight, her having dinner with us, it’s her
joining the game. Those shorts, that shirt, it’s her taking
the first shot, detonating the first bomb. It’s game on and
I’m playing to win, because she’s the prize and this time,
once I have her, I’ll never let go.

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 STARLING

I hate him.
I really hate him, more than I hated him when he took
over my life when we were in high school. More than when
he manipulated our families and ruined my and my mom’s
relationship. More than when he revealed he’d
orchestrated me being here in this house, under his thumb.
Somehow, being ignored by him makes me hate him a
thousand times harder than ever before and I hate that
more than anything else.
The day after we all had dinner together, I ate breakfast
in the kitchen, taking Hunter up on his offer to make
pancakes. Sebastian came into the room, lifted his chin in
greeting and then proceeded to text on his cell phone for
the entire length of time it took him to eat, then he left
without uttering another word or looking at me again.
Two days later, I came downstairs wearing nothing but a
towel and then proceeded to stretch up to the highest
cabinet to reach down a glass I didn’t need, but instead of
fuming over my near nakedness, by the time I turned
around he had his cell to his ear speaking to someone on
the other end as he left the room.
He’s made it clear that whatever he thought he felt for
me, he doesn’t feel anymore and instead of being relieved,
I’m livid.
 How dare he be finished with me? How dare he make
me all twisted up inside, while he goes on with his life
without a care in the world? Dr. Google seems to think I’m
suffering from Stockholm syndrome, which is basically
when a captive falls in love with their captor, and I think
that might be it. Only it’s not love, it’s lust; animal, primal
lust.
I don’t love Sebastian, that’s impossible, but I’m starting
to accept that I do want him. My body craves him, or at
least the things he can do for me. He thinks he’s done with
me, but I have a different plan. I refuse to believe that he
can just get over years’ worth of infatuation in an instant
and to prove it, I plan to torment him, until he breaks down
and fucks me.
What exactly I’ll do after that, I don’t really know, but
right now all I can think about is being beneath him again,
having his huge dick inside of me, quelling the itch that
only he can scratch.
It’s Friday night and for the first time ever, I’m willingly
going to a party. Sammy has proved quite the little stalker
herself, so instead of fighting to push her away, I think
we’ve actually become friends. At the back of my mind, I
know that Sebastian will take her from me if I let her get
too close, but a periphery friend will be okay, as long as I
don’t allow myself to get attached to her.
This party was Sammy’s idea, apparently there’re
parties every weekend out in the woods where the
freshmen welcome party was held. Although she doesn’t
know who hosts them, just that it’s an open invite to all
students. When she first suggested we should go together I
balked and refused, but now I’m actively trying to piss
Sebastian off, what better way to do it than to get dressed
up, go out, drink and dance without him?
My closet is still full of all the sexy dresses and outfits he
bought for me, although I’ve only worn a couple of the
shirts until now. Flipping through the hangers, I discard all
the dresses that need more T & A than I currently have,
and pull out all the ones that should fit.
I don’t know if he actually chose these things himself, or
if he paid a personal shopper to select them for me,
because there’s a wide selection ranging from slinky satin
minidresses to cute tea dresses, and even a couple of maxi
dresses that are super pretty and feminine. Even though I
told him these things were more Courtney’s style than my
own, now that I’m looking at them more closely, it’s clear
that they were picked for me.
The colors are all mostly warm to complement my skin
tone, with a few bright pieces dotted in here and there, and
the styles are sexy, but not too risqué or slutty. Slipping a
deep-red silky dress over my head, I sigh as the cool fabric
clings to my skin, hugging my meager curves and fitting
like it was designed just for me. The hem ends midthigh,
but the loose halter neck closes at the base of my neck,
leaving my entire back tantalizingly bare.
I feel unbelievably sexy, but I force myself to take it off
and swap it for a black dress with cap sleeves and lace
panels that offer a glimpse at my cleavage, and a cute A-
line skirt that swirls around my thighs. They’re both
beautiful, but when I drop the white dress over my head
and smooth it down, I know I’ve found the one.
The bandage-style dress conforms to my body like a
second skin, curving upward over my stomach toward a
cutout on one side that reveals my skin from my hip to just
beneath my breast, with just a hint of underboob visible.
The soft fabric feels bonded to my breasts, wrapping tightly
around my torso until it splits off into a single asymmetric
strap that curves around my collarbone until it meets the
fabric at the back.
Something about the way I’m both covered and revealed
at the same time makes me feel powerful, and even staring
at myself in the mirror I can’t help but pull my shoulders
back and stand a little straighter. This dress makes me feel
like a fighter, not the weak mouse I’ve been since I ran
away.
Adding salt spray to my hair, I tease it into tousled
mermaid waves, slide my feet into strappy black sandals —
another one of Sebastian’s purchases—and add another
coat of mascara to my smoky-eye makeup. Sliding a tube of
gloss, my cell phone and key card into a tiny gold purse
that has a strap so it hangs from my wrist, I blow myself a
kiss in the mirror and head for the door.
If even a tiny part of Sebastian still thinks of me as his,
then seeing me in this dress and knowing I’m going to a
party without him will push him over the edge. If it
doesn’t… then, well, I’m not sure what I’ll do, probably
pack up and leave, because even though I shouldn’t, now I
don’t have his attention, his eyes, his brand of crazy
focused on me, I want it. Fluffing my hair one last time, I
pull in a deep breath and then march down the stairs,
pushing open my door and striding out onto the landing
like I’m in Dynasty and in the middle of a slow-mo entrance
scene.
“Hey Starling, are you expecting someone, because
there’s a chick at the door asking for you,” Clay shouts up
the stairs, loud enough for the entire house to hear.
“Yes, let her in and keep your hands to yourself, she’s
my friend and off-limits to you guys,” I shout back.
With my hand on the banister to steady myself in my
heels I descend the stairs and stride confidently into the
foyer where Sammy is standing with all four guys looming
around her.
“Starling,” she cries, her lips splitting into a wide grin
when she sees me.
“Hey, Sammy, do you want to grab a drink here first, or
just head straight over to the party?” I ask, ignoring the
incredulous looks I’m getting from all but one of my
housemates.
 “You’re going to a party?” Evan asks slowly, like he
thinks he misheard me or something.
“Yep,” I nod, grabbing Sammy’s arm and dragging her
away from the guys and into the kitchen. Opening the
refrigerator door, I pull out a couple of wine coolers and
pass one to her. “You look amazing,” I tell her, taking in her
tight leopard-print miniskirt and simple tight black cami,
tucked in to show off her impressive breasts and flat
stomach. It’s a hell of a change from her usual preppy style,
but I love it.
“Thanks. My parents prefer me to wear conservative
clothes, but I’ve managed to do a little college shopping
online since I got here. You look unbelievable by the way,
I’m totally straight, but you in that dress is kind of making
me question it.”
We both burst out laughing just as Evan, Clay and
Hunter storm into the kitchen.
“Who’s the friend, sis?” Evan asks. “And which party are
you going to?”
“Sis?” Sammy questions.
Rolling my eyes I shake my head. “Ignore him, we’re not
related. This is Evan, he is my mom’s new husband’s son.
Then this is Clay and Hunter,” I point to them each in turn.
“Guys, this is Sammy, she and I met on our way to
orientation.”
“Harsh, sis, you couldn’t have just called me your
stepbrother?” Evan smirks.
“No, I couldn’t.”
“So which party did you say it was?” Hunter asks, trying
to sound nonchalant.
Sammy opens her mouth to tell them, but I interrupt.
“Just some party some people in our history class invited us
to.”
“And you’re wearing that?” Clay asks, waving his hand
up and down, motioning to my dress.
 The prickle of unbidden tears sparks to life in my eyes,
but I blink them away. It shouldn’t be Clay asking about my
dress in a disapproving tone, it should be Sebastian. He
wouldn’t let me wear a white tank because he thought
other guys would see my nipples through it, yet I’m here in
a dress so tight my thong might as well be dental floss it’s
so tiny, and he hasn’t said a word. He’s not even here,
because he doesn’t care.
“Don’t worry, you can borrow it another night,” I snap,
finishing my bottle off and then looking expectantly at
Sammy. “You ready?”
“Sure,” she nods, a hint of confusion in her expression.
Without asking me what’s going on, she finishes her own
drink, then takes my hand and walks with me over to the
front door, ignoring the three shocked guys following us.
“Have a good night,” I call behind me, dismissing the
guys as we step out of the door and toward the gate. I stop
breathing altogether when the gate doesn’t move as we
approach it, and a warmth floods my chest, instantly
freezing to ice when the huge metal gates slowly begin to
part.
He let me go. He saw my dress, heard I was going to a
party and then just let me go.
I shouldn’t care, but I do. Maybe I’ve been testing him,
seeing if this was all an act, if I actually am free. He passed
and I doubt there’s a shrink anywhere in the entire country
who could explain why my heart feels like it’s breaking.
“Starling, are you okay?” Sammy asks as we climb into
her golf cart and start to drive away.
Shaking my head, I bring my hand to my lips and cover
the whimpering sound that’s fighting to get free.
“Oh my god, what’s the matter?” she asks, pulling the
cart into the driveway for one of the other houses and
turning all of her attention to me.
“I’m an idiot. He did everything. I hate him, but he let
me go,” I half sob, half ramble. I know I’m not making any
sense, but my thoughts are so jumbled that I can’t make my
mouth form the words to explain.
“Wow, okay,” Sammy says, taking my hand and
squeezing it. “I don’t really know what any of that means,
but I’m guessing it’s to do with a guy?”
I nod.
“It isn’t your stepbrother is it, because I’m going to be
honest, if it is that’s so freaking hot.”
I shake my head, blinking away the tears that are
threatening to fall. “His name is Sebastian, we went to the
same high school for a while.”
“Lockwood? Sebastian Lockwood?” she asks slowly, her
eyes widening.
For a moment I wonder if I’m making the best decision
by telling her the truth. Could she use it against me
somehow? Then I just decide to do it anyway. If I really
have faded from his notice then I’m not sure I’ll stay here
anyway, so what harm can it do to tell her the whole sordid
truth? So I do, I tell her about him deciding I was his the
first day of sophomore year, I tell her about him
manipulating my mom and best friend. I tell her about
running to my dad’s and being so overwhelmed by the idea
of him, that I never came back. Then I tell her about him
warning me that there would be consequences for leaving
him. About the way he stole my mom from me. By the time
I explain about having no idea he was at Kingsacre until
they ambushed me in the kitchen, her eyes are so wide
they’re like saucers and her mouth is literally hanging
open.
“So let me get this right. He got you here, had you
basically under house arrest, sleeping in his bed, having
sex with him and then he just apologized, told you, you
were free and now he’s not bothered?” Sammy exclaims.
The scoff that falls from my lips is bitter and angry.
“Pretty much,” I shrug. “It’s been a couple of weeks now
and he’s barely even glanced in my direction. At first I
thought it was just another one of his games. He’s always
enjoyed letting me think I’ve got the upper hand, then
showing me he was already six steps ahead. But he really
just doesn’t care.”
“Given everything you’ve just told me, aren’t you
pleased that he’s lost interest?”
Groaning, I let my head flop back until I’m staring up at
the roof of the cart. “I am pleased. I hate him, but I’m also
pissed. This boy has haunted me day and night for the last
two and a half years and now he’s just lost interest, like I
was a toy that he got bored of, or a game that he was
obsessed with until something new came along.”
“I mean I kind of get it,” she offers noncommittally.
“Do you, because I don’t. I should have packed my bags
and gone the moment I had the chance, but instead I’m still
here, living in a house with him, in the room literally next
door to him. I’m free, but I feel more caged now than I did
when he was the constant monster beneath the bed.”
“You like him,” Sammy gasps dramatically.
“I really don’t think I do. He’s been the cause of so much
misery. But…” I trail off.
“How was the sex?” she whisper-shouts.
“I don’t have anything to compare it to, but if it was bad,
then I think good would kill me.”
Giggling, she slaps her hand over her mouth. “You want
to fuck your stalker.”
“It’s not fair that he gets to just say that it’s over. I want
to fuck him up, I want him to feel some of the pain and
misery he’s caused me. I want my revenge, but none of that
is going to happen when he doesn’t care anymore.”
“Maybe he’s just playing it cool,” she suggests, turning
the cart around and heading back down the road toward
the party.
“Sebastian doesn’t understand the concept of playing it
cool, he’s completely single minded, a total control freak. If
he still thought of me as his, I wouldn’t be sitting here
wearing this dress.”
“What? Why? You look hot as hell in that dress.”
“It’s not the dress, he bought it for me, it’s me in the
dress going to a party around other guys. He’s more than
just standard jealous and possessive, he’s, lock me in the
house, fuck me until I’m comatose and his cum is dripping
out of me, then make me wear the dress and go to the party
so everyone will see and smell that I belonged to him.”
“Wow,” Sammy says, elongating the word.
“Yep. I wore these tiny booty shorts and a shirt that
barely covered anything to dinner the other night around
his friends and he never said a word. I was practically
climbing the counters in nothing but a towel and he was
too busy texting to notice. He had an entire team of
security guys following me around and reporting my every
move to him for two years while I was in Maine, but the
other day, I went for a run, then sat, chatted and got
propositioned by a guy and nothing.”
“Starling, I hate to say it, but you seem to be putting in
an awful lot of effort into getting back a guy you said you
hate.”
“I can’t help it,” I groan. “It’s like he exorcised his own
obsession with me, and it immediately took root in me for
him.”
“The best way to get over someone, is to get under
someone else, so that’s what you need to do. Let’s do a
little drinking, a little dancing and then we can find you a
target for the night. Even if all you do is grind against him
and let him kiss you, it’s a step in the right direction.”
I nod, agreeing. “Thank you for not giving up on me
when I was an emo bitch to you. My ex-bestie turned out to
be a real POS and I haven’t tried to make any friends since,
because I was always worried Sebastian would find a way
to use them against me. You could have just walked away
and never spoken to me again, but I’m so glad that you
didn’t.”
Waving her hand around, she smiles. “I’m a stage-five
clinger, you’ll never get rid of me now. Plus, I live in a
permanent live-sex show, I need you more than you need
me.”
Her giggle is enough to make me smile and I settle back
into my seat and resolve to not think about Sebastian again
tonight. Maybe she’s right, maybe instead of thinking about
him and how good the sex was, I need to focus on how
amazing it will be with someone else. Perhaps it’s always
that good? I mean, people wouldn’t be as obsessed with it
as they are if it didn’t make you feel good.
I’m giving him all this credit and more than likely it’s
just that sex feels good, orgasms make you feel epic and
together we had a lot of them. But I can find someone else
to make me feel just as good without the mindfuck that
Sebastian brings to the table.
Unlike the last party, there isn’t a parking space
conveniently empty and waiting for us, so we abandon the
cart at the back of a huge pile of carts and then proceed to
make our way through the woods on foot.
Heels and hidden tree roots don’t really mix, but
eventually we emerge from the path and into hedonistic
chaos. I never went to any high school parties, so I don’t
know if this is usual party behavior, but this is nothing like
the college parties I’ve seen in films.
The freshmen welcome party had a chilled bonfire vibe,
this is nothing like that. Instead of fires with lawn chairs,
there’re glass heaters full of dancing flames, dotted
between the trees that have been wrapped with LED strips
that pulse and flash along with the heady music.
At the last party I refused to drink, so I never really
considered where the various drinks the guys were fetching
me were coming from, but tonight there’s proper bars set
up with bartenders mixing cocktails.
 The music is so loud the bass feels like it’s pulsing in my
chest and I immediately start to move to the beat. Sammy
grabs my hand and tows me over to one of the bars,
ordering us Long Island iced teas and two tequila shots
each.
“For courage,” she smiles, leaning forward and speaking
into my ear to be heard over the noise of the music and
crowds of people. Lifting her glass, she throws back the
first, then second shot and I follow her lead, swallowing the
disgusting liquor and trying to hold back a grimace.
“Tastes awful, but it works,” she says with a wink,
dropping a twenty into the bartender’s tip jar and handing
me another drink in a tall plastic cup. I take a sip and sigh
when it’s sweet and doesn’t burn all the way down to my
stomach.
Sammy reaches her hand back and grabs mine, leading
us both onto the makeshift dance floor. She immediately
starts to dance, so I do the same, sipping at my drink as the
pulse of the music drags me under its hypnotic beat.
For a while we dance together, ignoring anybody who
approaches us, but as my glass gets emptier, my confidence
increases and when a cute redheaded guy with freckles and
serious guns curls his arm around my waist and dances in
rhythm with me, I don’t push him away.

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 23

OceanofPDF.com
 SEBASTIAN

A llowing her to leave the house, wearing that dress, was

a lesson in control. Her long legs and toned body were
wrapped in the tight white fabric and it took all of my
resolve not to drag her back to our bed by her hair.
She was waiting for me to react. The dress, the hair, the
party, it was all for me, she’s testing me, seeing how long
it’ll take me to break. She’s been seeing how far I’ll allow
her to push me all week and tonight I almost hit my limit,
until I saw her face when the gates opened to allow her to
leave.
She was hurt. For all the times that she’s told me she
hates me and wants me to leave her alone, now she’s sad
that I’m not following. We’re both still playing a game, only
I’m not sure who’s winning anymore.
The moment the girls drive away in the cart, Evan, Clay
and Hunter barge into my room. “Did you see what she was
wearing?” Evan growls. “Are you seriously just going to let
her go off to a party on her own looking like that?
“She’s not mine,” I answer, hating the way the lie sounds
on my lips.
“How long are you going to carry on with this bullshit?”
Hunter asks, his eyes narrowing as he dares me to lie to
him.
 “You all told me what we were doing was wrong, that I
needed to let her go, to set her free. What did you think her
freedom was going to look like? Did you seriously think
she’d want to spend all of her free time locked up in the
house with you guys? She was always going to make
friends, go to parties, move on. This is what we agreed.”
“Her security detail will stop anyone from approaching
her,” Clay says, like he’s reassuring himself.
“She doesn’t have a security detail on campus,” I lie
again. There isn’t a moment when she’s out of my sight that
she doesn’t have eyes on her.
“Get dressed, we’re going to that fucking party, the two
of them are like a walking target. I don’t believe any of this
nonchalant shit you’re trying to sell, she’s yours, your little
bird, there’s no way you’d let another guy near her,” Evan
snarls, stomping into my closet, pulling a shirt from the rod
and throwing it at me.
Snickering to myself, I don’t move until all of my
brothers have left my room to go and get changed. I don’t
really need to go tonight, I have seven guys watching her
every move with strict instructions to remove any man but
me who tries to touch her, but after seeing her face, I know
she needs me. She needs to be reminded of why I’m the
only man who will ever own her, the only person she’ll ever
choose to belong to.
Throwing the white shirt over my head, I roll the sleeves
up to my elbows and change my sweats for fitted shorts. I
look like the rich, preppy asshole that I am, but I don’t
care. Sliding my feet into white sneakers, I grab my cell
and my key card and then leave my room, unlocking
Starling’s room with the app on my cell and climbing the
stairs. Her scent hits me the moment I enter her space and
I groan as my dick instantly hardens. I’ve missed the way
she smells. Not being able to be close enough to touch her
has been torture, but it needed to happen.
 The next time I touch her, there’ll be no way she’ll be
able to deny how much she wants me. Her attempts to gain
my attention this week have been cute. Those tiny fucking
shorts, prancing about in nothing but a towel. She thinks I
wasn’t interested enough to pay attention, but I’ve watched
the security footage of her ass playing peekaboo out the
bottom of that towel as she reached for a glass she didn’t
need more than a hundred times already.
When I reclaim her, it’ll be because she begs to be mine
again, but there’s no reason why I can’t give her a taste of
what it’s like to belong to me. If she asks nicely, of course.
Both calmed and aroused by being in her space, I run
my fingers over her comforter, moving around her room
and touching her ancient laptop that’s sitting on her desk.
Several of the dresses I bought her lie discarded on the bed
and her pajamas are balled up on the chair. Stepping into
the bathroom, my dick hardens even further when I think
about her naked and wet and suddenly the urge to mark
her is too strong to fight. Before I can question what I’m
doing, her body wash is in one hand, my hard cock free of
my pants in the other. Gripping myself tightly I stroke up
and down the length of my cock, imagining her tight
nipples pebbled from the cold, her pussy wet and smooth,
ready to be licked. It doesn’t take long until my balls are
pulling tight and I’m spilling my release into the bottle, my
cum mixing with the soap. Releasing my spent cock, I tuck
it back into my shorts and replace the lid on the bottle,
shaking it to make sure its thoroughly mixed. I promised
her all of my cum was for her, and this load might not be
inside her, but she’ll be rubbing it into her skin every time
she has a shower from now on.
Exhaling happily, I exit her room, engaging the lock
again and sauntering downstairs to find the guys all
impatiently waiting for me in the foyer.
“Finally, get your fucking ass moving, this is your woman
who’s at risk here,” Evan snaps aggravatedly as he throws
open the door and stomps over to the golf cart.
“Are you really prepared to let her hook up with some
asshole at a party, just to make a point,” Clay asks.
“What point am I making?” I ask, annoyed that two
weeks ago they were all telling me I needed to let her go
and now they’re telling me to get her back again. “She
doesn’t want me, you all agreed that I needed to leave her
alone. What the fuck do you expect me to do?” I think a
part of me thinks I should feel bad for lying to them, but I
need them on board once she does come back to me. I can’t
have them telling me I have to give her up every time she
gets pissed at me or them. It feels like I’m almost playing
with them as much as I am her, but they forced me to set
her free. If they hadn’t, she wouldn’t be at this party right
now, she’d be bouncing on my cock, locked in her gilded
cage.
“She wants you,” Hunter tells me quietly. “She was
worried and unsure the first couple of weeks, but this week
she’s been angry. Starling wants your attention, that’s why
she’s been provoking you, although I’m not sure you’ve
even noticed, you’ve been so determined not to pay any
attention to her.”
“You guys just need to fuck it out or something, I’m
getting sick of seeing my sister’s ass,” Evan laughs.
Inside I’m smirking, but on the outside I keep my
expression neutral and shrug. “I’m not sure, I think maybe
we missed our chance. Mom and Dad have mentioned how
advantageous an alliance with the Eadberht Corporation
would be. They have a daughter, she’s just turned eighteen,
if I’d never met Starling I’d probably already be engaged by
now, so…” I trail off deliberately. Of course it’s all utter
bullshit, the Eadberht’s do have a daughter, but even
though they only knew Starling for a short time, my mom
and dad are still fully intending to have her for a daughter-
in-law; they’d never suggest I sacrificed love for a political
marriage.
 “No,” Hunter growls in his quiet, purposeful way. “You’d
make that poor girl miserable because it will only ever be
Starling for you. You fucked up with her, I think if maybe
you’d have acted like a normal seventeen-year-old when
you first met and not some megalomaniac millionaire, she
would have liked you for you. You pushed too hard and she
ran, then you fucked up again bringing her here the way
you did. But she wants you, maybe not the way you want
her yet, but if she was completely lost to you, she would
have left and she didn’t, she stayed. This is your chance,
don’t give her a reason to run again.”
Hunter is usually quiet, so when he has something to
say, we listen. Of course I already know everything he just
spelled out so eloquently, but it’s nice to know he’s exactly
where I want him to be, which is firmly on team make
Starling fall in love with me.
“He’s right,” Clay agrees, as Evan nods. “You need to
figure out how to win her back, you love her, you can’t just
walk away from that.”
I take a moment, forcing a pensive look to my face as if
I’m carefully thinking about what they’re saying, then I
nod. “I love her.” It’s the first honest, true thing I’ve said
since we started this conversation. I love Starling and it’s
more than just my obsession with her, she’s everything. I
want to be her north, but she’s the needle on the compass,
without her, all directions are meaningless.
A hint of guilt permeates into me, I shouldn’t be
manipulating my friends, the men I consider my brothers,
but I need them on board with helping me do whatever I
need to do to tether my little bird to me again.
“Any idea how I can get the ball rolling?” I ask.

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 24

OceanofPDF.com
 STARLING

T he feeling of the tequila humming through my veins

makes the music seem louder and more all-consuming,
and I love it. My hands are in the air, while my ass is
pressed up against the front of a very aroused guy, his arm
curled around my waist.
With my eyes closed, I try really hard not to notice how
wrong it is to have some random guy’s hard-on pushing
into me. I want to be able to embrace this moment, my first
real college party—the first party the guys dragged me to
doesn’t count. But even though I’m doing all the right
things, it just feels so wrong.
The guy, whose name I don’t even know is slightly
behind the rhythm, his arm around my waist is floppy and
neither claiming or supportive it’s just sort of hanging
there. I can feel his hardness pressing into me, but I’m not
feeling even an ounce of arousal and I think I’m supposed
to be. Isn’t that the purpose of dancing like this, to simulate
sex, to see how well you’d fit together? If it is, then the
answer with this guy is not that well.
I want to push him off, but I don’t know the etiquette. Is
it really insulting if I ask him to remove his limp arm and
his underwhelming-sized cock away from me? It feels rude,
so instead I just go with it, throwing back what’s left of my
drink and trying not to cringe when the guy nuzzles into my
neck.
Sammy is immediately across from me, apparently she
has the etiquette down, because her tongue is down the
throat of a pretty blond boy with messy surfer-style hair,
her hands groping his toned chest beneath his unbuttoned
shirt.
Pulling free of the guy—whose name I really wish I
knew, if only so I didn’t keep having to refer to him as the
guy in my head—I smile and wave my empty cup at him,
signaling in the general direction of the bar. Nodding, he
smiles, but thankfully doesn’t offer to come with. Pushing
my way through the throng of people, I join the back of the
line, exhaling slowly and watching the people around me
who all seem so much more comfortable than me. I’m used
to being alone, but even when I was in Maine I felt
Sebastian’s phantom eyes on me, even though I knew he
was hours away in a different state. Knowing he doesn’t
care enough to watch anymore makes me feel bereft.
Stepping up to the bar I order myself another Long
Island iced tea. Whoever organized this party made it a free
bar, but I push a tip into the jar and then move off to the
side, standing on the edge of the dance floor with the
shadowy trees behind me.
A prickle of awareness washes over me and I tense,
suddenly feeling like I’m being watched, but there’s no way
Sebastian is here. If he cared enough to come, he’d already
be laying claim to me, making sure everyone around knew
who I belonged to.
“Where’s your friend?”
Gasping, I turn toward the sound and find Sebastian
standing placidly at my side, his hands in his pockets.
“She’s dancing,” I tell him.
“I meant your male friend.” His face the picture of
unassuming placidity.
 “Oh.” Sudden panic floods me, but why am I worried he
might have seen me dancing with another guy, I’m not his
and he is most definitely not mine. “I needed another
drink.” I lift my glass and he smiles.
“I see, he didn’t really strike me as your type.”
“My type? What would that be exactly?”
“Someone who provokes a reaction a little stronger than
confusion and discomfort from you,” he replies, leaning in
so I can hear him over the volume of the music and the roar
of the party going on around us.
“Maybe I’m just not used to dancing with strangers at
parties, I’m not exactly a social butterfly.”
“Hmm, maybe. Or maybe he just didn’t do anything for
you.”
I nod noncommittally. “You’re right, redheads aren’t
what I’m craving, I’ll try a brunette next time.”
His laugh sounds menacing even through the volume of
the music and the sounds of the party going on around us.
“By all means, don’t let me stop you.” Lifting his arm, he
gestures to the mass of dancers.
I don’t want to go back out there, dancing with Sammy
was fun, but allowing guys to touch me feels… wrong. I’ve
avoided all human contact for so long and now that there’s
no little voice warning me he’ll find out, I can’t stand the
thought of anyone’s hands on me but his. But I don’t want
him to think I’m stopping myself because of him, so I lift my
glass into the air and offer him a silent toast, forging
forward into the crowd until I find Sammy. She and her
friend have come up for air, now he’s curled around her
back, grinding to the dirty bass line while he nibbles on her
neck.
“Starling, where did you go?” she asks, her voice a little
slurred.
“To get a drink, you were busy or else I’d have gotten
you one.”
 Smiling drunkenly, she waves me off. “It’s fine, Rob.”
She stops, and glances over her shoulder to the guy who’s
dry humping her butt. “Rob?”
“Ross,” he smiles.
Laughing, she turns back to me. “Ross is going to get us
drinks.”
When Ross detaches himself from her, she throws her
arms around my neck and hugs me tightly. When she leans
back, she leaves one arm curled around me and starts to
grind with me in the way that girls do when they want guys
to look at them.
Not wanting to push her away I go with it, but having
her hands on me feels almost as weird as the redheaded
guy’s hands did. I’m relieved when Ross gets back and she
enthusiastically launches herself at him, locking her lips
with his and kissing him passionately.
My body sparks to life a moment before a familiar arm
encircles my waist. “She’s an affectionate drunk, isn’t she?”
Sebastian asks.
“She’s definitely friendly,” I say, holding myself stiffly
against his hold, not wanting to give in to my craving and
relax into his touch.
“I’d like us to be friends,” he breathes against my ear.
My feet stop moving and I freeze to the spot. His arm
falls away and I slowly spin around, narrowing my eyes the
moment I’m standing in front of him. “What did you say?”
“I’d like us to be friends.” The small shrug he offers me
is the thing that pushes me over the edge and before I can
even think about what I’m doing, my hand is in the air and
slapping against his cheek.
His eyes widen in shock and I swear there’s an audible
gasp from the people around us, but I don’t stick around
long enough to see how they react. Pushing my way
through the crowd, I text Sammy as I go to let her know I’m
leaving and ask her to text me when she gets home.
 “Asshole,” I mutter, my gaze focused on the ground,
trying to watch where I’m going and not trip over a tree
root. “Friends, fucking friends.”
I’m so focused on not falling and angrily ranting about
Sebastian that I don’t notice someone’s following me until
I’m plucked off the ground, dragged off the path and
pressed back against a tree.
“Calm down, Starling, it’s only me,” Sebastian says as
I’m parting my lips to scream. The sound dies in my throat
and the fear that has turned my blood cold all morphs into
unrestrained anger.
“What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were
attacking me, you fucking asshole.”
“I called your name several times, I’ve been following
you since you stormed off, but you were too busy calling me
an asshole to notice,” he says calmly.
“You are an asshole,” I shout into his obnoxiously
beautiful face.
“I know,” he smirks.
“Stop smiling.”
“I’m sorry, I just forgot how cute you are when you’re
angry.”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Because it’s Friday night and there’s a party.”
“No, I mean here, now,” I clarify.
“Because you stormed off upset, I wasn’t sure how you
were planning to get back to the house.”
“I hate you so much,” I snarl.
His lips twitch a moment before he leans forward and
breathes against my ear. “You don’t hate me.”
My lungs stop working, my heart stills and my sex perks
up in excitement at how close he is to me right now.
Leaning back, he pulls his full lower lip between his teeth
and watches me, waiting for something, but right this
second, I have no idea what.
 “I think you wish you hated me, but you can’t, because
I’m the only one who makes you feel.”
I try to shake my head to deny his words, but the only
noise I can make is a pathetic whimper.
“Do you need it?” he asks, his voice a whiskey-tinged
rasp that makes me swallow down a moan of desperation.
“Need what?” I practically pant.
“To feel.”
I try to shake my head, to say no, but I don’t. I can’t. I
want him and it’s not some animalistic urge, it’s a need, a
want, a choice. My body isn’t overruling my head, I’m not
unaware of what’s happening here, even though a part of
me wishes I could use that as an excuse for what he makes
me feel. I’m angry at him, furious that he has the audacity
to suggest we be friends, but I want him. I need him and I
hate it, or maybe I just hate that I don’t hate it.
For weeks I’ve yearned to feel the way he makes me
feel. I tried to replicate it with rebellion, but it didn’t work.
I sought it out from others, but I stayed cold in the face of
replacing his touch with someone else’s.
“I need it too,” he confesses on a whisper.
My lips part as I lift my gaze to his. He’s so beautiful, his
face regal and austere, sometimes almost sinister with how
perfect he is.
“You can have anything you want, all you have to do is
reach out and take it,” he taunts.
My eyes fall down to my hands that are gripping the
fabric of his shirt tightly. I assumed he was holding me in
place, imprisoning me like he usually does. But he’s not
touching me, his arms are hanging loosely at his sides. I’m
the one keeping him here, the one holding him captive.
“You’re usually the one who takes whatever you please,”
I say breathily.
“I know. I took too much, now I’ll only take what’s
offered freely.”
 Swallowing thickly I glance guiltily around us, but we’re
alone, everyone else is busy at the party. Relinquishing my
hold on his shirt I lift my left hand and place it on his right
arm, slowly sliding it down until I reach his hand. My skin
feels alive, tingles of power and sensation building until I
feel like I’m vibrating with nerves and excitement. Slowly I
lift his hand up, guiding it to my breast.
“Just for tonight,” I tremble.
“Spell it out for me, Starling, I want to hear you say
exactly what you think this is.”
“Make me feel, Sebastian. Just for tonight, I’m…” I
pause, then inhale. “I’m offering myself to you.”
For the longest moment of my life, he just looks at me,
his palm still pressed against my breast. Then he lurches
forward and collars my throat while his lips plunder my
mouth. In an instant my body comes to life, exploding with
need and want and desire. The night is both brighter and
more immersive, lighting up the world around me even as
the darkness presses in on us.
His lips devour mine, his tongue forcing mine to submit
as his fingers squeeze just enough around my throat to
remind me that each breath I take is because he’s allowing
it. I want more. I want his hands on me, his fingers in me. I
want him to make me come and then force me to do it
again and again. I want him to take away my choice and
make me accept whatever he wants to give me, and I want
it all right now.
Blindly reaching for his hand that’s not around my neck,
I try to drag it downward, needing him between my legs,
but instead of doing what I’m silently asking, he tenses his
arm, making it immovable as he grips my neck, then
releases me, stepping back and assessing me coolly.
“What? Why are you stopping?” I gasp.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he admits, rubbing a
hand over his hair.
“What?” I snap. “Are you serious?”
 “I’m not sure you’re thinking straight, you’ve been
drinking.”
“I’ve had two shots and one and a half cocktails, I’m
more than capable of making my own decisions.”
“And you want this?” he questions, his expression mostly
calm with a hint of something I can’t quite identify.
“I want you, Sebastian, I need you and I’m offering you
me. So what are you waiting for?” I taunt him.
A second later my feet leave the ground and my back
hits the trunk of a tree as the skirt of my dress is shoved up
and he rips my thong clean off me. Two thick fingers slam
into me and I let out a long, low moan of pleasure as he
pumps them in and out. I’m so wet I can hear the sound of
my own arousal and feel the way it coats my thighs.
“This is going to be fast and quick; I’ll take my time on
round two,” he smirks a second before his fingers are
replaced with his rock hard and much bigger than I
remember cock.
I open my mouth to scream, but Sebastian shoves my
thong between my lips, gagging me with the underwear
that he just tore off me. The taste of my own arousal fills
my mouth, but I don’t have a chance to decide how I feel
about that before he starts to fuck me.
My legs are curled around his hips and I lock my ankles
at his back, holding on to his shoulders while he slams his
cock in and out of me, not giving me a second to get used
to his sheer size.
Unadulterated bliss hits me when I combust; an orgasm
wrenched from me as I scream around my panties, feeling
the sound in the back of my throat even if nothing more
than a muffled cry escapes my lips. I’m barely moving,
simply holding on while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of
me against a tree no more than fifty yards from where a
college party with hundreds of guests is raging. It’s hot and
dirty and brutal and I love it. I’m on the verge of coming
again when he pulls out of me, spins me around and then
slams into my pussy again from behind as I struggle to find
purchase on the tree I’m now facing.
Delivering a sharp slap to my ass, he sets a frantic pace
as he drills me from behind, his hold on my hips tight
enough to bruise and I want it to. We barely had a day
together before he freed me, but not until he gave me a
glimpse of what it means to be truly owned by him. In that
twenty-four-hour period he gave me more pleasure than
I’ve ever known and then it was gone, and I’ve been
craving it ever since.
A sense of loathing hits almost in unison with my second
orgasm, but Sebastian doesn’t even pause, fucking me as I
scream and writhe. His thrusts become deeper, harder until
he grips my hips to the point of pain and comes deep inside
of me.
For a moment, neither of us moves. My cheek is pressed
against the tree I’m holding, my legs are spread wide, my
dress bunched at my waist, Sebastian’s cock still inside of
me. We could be discovered at any moment, but neither of
us tries to move. Somehow the sounds of our panting
breaths are louder than the raucous noise of the party
behind us.
Sebastian loosens his grip on my hips and I whine in
protest when his dick slides out of me, the heat of his cum
dripping out of my sex. Lifting my head, I glance over my
shoulder and find Sebastian with his cell in his hand, the
camera focused between my thighs.
“Seriously?” I croak, pulling the fabric from my mouth.
His eyes lift to mine and he smirks, completely
unrepentant. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“Don’t you remember? I already told you this was only
the first round. You didn’t think this was it, did you?”
I push my dress down, covering myself, and he scowls.
“I’m not done with you yet, Starling. You gave yourself
to me for the night, so you’re mine until the sun comes up.
Now let’s go.”
Wrapping his fingers in a tight grip around my wrist, he
drags me back onto the path until we reach the same spot
we parked our cart in for the first party. Smiling, he lifts me
off the ground and places me into the front of the cart,
following me in and immediately pulling away.
“Won’t the others need the cart?” I ask, glancing back
toward the woods that we’re speeding away from.
“They’ll be fine, I texted them to let them know we were
leaving and to ask them to keep an eye on your friend.”
“What? When?”
“While you were running away.”
“Presumptuous much?” I snip.
“Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart. I just
wasn’t about to let you wander about on your own at
night.” His palm is resting on my bare thigh and as we get
closer to the house, he inches his fingers higher until he’s
playing with my folds, massaging his cum that’s still
coating my thighs into my skin.
The gates open for us the moment we reach the house
and instead of parking the cart around the side, he
abandons it right in front of the entrance. I expect him to
drag me inside, but instead he turns me to my side, and
slides me along the seat until my legs are dangling outside
and I’m lying along the bench.
Parting my legs, Sebastian pushes my dress up until I’m
bared for him, naked from the waist down, my panties
gripped tightly in my hand.
“You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he
murmurs, parting my lips with his finger and thumb as he
stares down at me. “So pink and wet and perfect.”
Keeping me spread wide, he pushes two fingers into me
then pulls them all the way out. He does it again, dipping
into me then withdrawing and again until I’m squirming on
the seat as he fucks me with his fingers in the open where
anyone could see.
 “I wonder if I can make you squirt for me?” he muses,
adding a third finger and curling them upward until he
finds my G-spot, and I moan wantonly in pleasure.
“We only have tonight, just fuck me. I want you to fuck
me again,” I beg.
Laughing, he lifts his eyes and smiles at me. “Don’t
worry, after I play for a little while I’m going to fuck you
until you scream. But first I want to see if I can make you
come so hard you cover me in your arousal the way your
cunt’s coated in mine.”
His fingers start to move again and I see stars as he
circles my clit with his thumb while he works my G-spot
with his talented fingers. I come almost immediately,
screaming out my release while he continues to work my
pussy, fucking me with his fingers until a pressure unlike a
normal orgasm starts to build. “Sebastian,” I say cautiously.
“That’s it, sweetheart, come again for me, how does it
feel?”
“Like I want to pee, in a really, really good way,” I whine,
the thong I’d been gripping in my hand forgotten as I
writhe against the bench seat, my fingers clenching tightly
to the leather.
“Perfect, baby, fucking perfect. Come for me, just let go
and I promise it’ll feel so fucking good.”
I try to hold it back, horrified that I might pee when I
come, but his fingers are relentless and when I can’t hold
on anymore, I orgasm, and it’s not like anything I’ve ever
experienced before. The orgasm implodes inside of me, but
it’s more than just coming, it’s like a full-body release as all
the pressure he’s built up inside of me squirts out of me.
“Fuck, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.
I’m soaked, Starling, you gushed all over me.”
My eyes fall closed and I let my head drop onto the seat
beneath me, my arms flopping to the side.
“Oh hell no, we’re not done. My dick has never been so
hard.”
 Scooping me off the seat, Sebastian flings me over his
shoulder, marches into the house and up the three flights of
stairs to the floor we share. I expect him to take me to his
room, but instead he pulls my key card from my purse,
opens my door and carries me upstairs.
Lowering me to my feet, he unzips my dress and shoves
it to the floor, his wet shirt and pants follow suit and then
we’re both naked.
“I want you to ride my dick while I suck on your
nipples,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling
me down into his lap. Stradling him, I grab his cock and
guide him into my soaked sex. I’m literally dripping with a
mixture of his cum and my own and his dick slides easily
into me until I’m full of him and my ass is pressed against
his thighs.
“Offer me your tits, sweetheart,” he orders, but right
now I’ll do whatever the fuck he wants, so I lift my breasts
with my hands and lean toward his mouth. Capturing them
in his hands, he sucks first one nipple, then the other into
his mouth, rolling the tip with his tongue. “Ride my cock,
baby, make us both come, else I’ll pin you face down over
the end of your bed and drill your pussy until you’re
begging me to stop.”
For the first time, possibly ever, I’m not scared of him, or
his threats. He won’t hurt me, not in a way I won’t enjoy,
and knowing that is freeing and powerful. Moving slowly to
start off with, I slide myself up and down his cock, teasing
him with shallow glides that feel nice but won’t lead to us
screaming with ecstasy.
“Faster,” he chides, scraping his teeth over my swollen
nipple as I moan. I lift almost all the way off him, before
sliding him all the way to the hilt, getting deeper with each
thrust.
It almost feels like I’m in control, like I’m using him for
my pleasure, but he’s definitely topping from the bottom,
caressing and lapping at my breasts when I’m doing what
he’s telling me to do, punishing me with nips and bites
when I’m not.
When I finally do come, it’s a hot burn that starts in my
toes and moves steadily upward until my sex is clenching
his dick so hard I can barely move.
“Motherfucker,” Sebastian growls from behind gritted
teeth, gripping my waist and lifting me up and down his
length, forcing my pussy to milk him until we’re both
panting and covered in sweat.
After our breathing has slowed, he carries me to the
shower and washes me. Then he pulls the showerhead from
the wall, messes with the flow by twisting the top and
forces it between my legs.
The heat and pressure of the water startles a low moan
of shocked sensation from me. I knew that you could use a
showerhead to get yourself off, I’ve just never tried it until
now. Why have I never tried it? Teasing me, he uses the jet
on my clit, never allowing me to focus on his probing
fingers against my tight asshole while the water is like a
hundred tiny hands massaging me all at once. And when I
come again, it’s with the water spraying directly onto my
clit, and two of his fingers filling my ass.

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 SEBASTIAN

R olling off Starling, I flop into a boneless heap on the

mattress beside her. My dick actually feels chaffed from
the amount of sex we’ve had tonight, but I don’t care. She
offered herself to me for the night. She gave herself to me,
because no matter what she says, or how hard she fights,
she’s mine, and no one will ever make her feel or react the
way I do.
After I got her off in the shower, I ate her pussy for
nearly an hour, making her come again and again until she
begged for my cock. When I finally gave it to her, it was
with her face to the comforter, her hair in my fist and her
ass in the air. After the fourth or fifth round, she fell asleep
and I woke her up with my dick, rolling her to the side and
lifting one leg while I fucked her. I haven’t let her clean up
since and right now her pussy is a sopping mess of my cum.
I’ve lost count of how many pictures I’ve taken of her cunt
overflowing with me.
She hasn’t mentioned us using condoms, but we haven’t
been careful, I love seeing the mess I’ve made of her too
much to ever use anything. Twisting to the side, I take in
her ravished appearance. Her neck and breasts are coated
in bite marks and hickeys. Her nipples are swollen and red
from me sucking on them and her cunt is puffy and so
fucking well used she’s going to feel me for days.
 I want her again, but honestly, I’m not sure I can get
another erection even if I wanted to. Her eyes are closed
and her chest is moving rhythmically up and down, I’ve
fucked her into an exhausted stupor. Grabbing my cell, I
turn on my camera and take a picture of her, naked, well
used and fucked beyond exhaustion. Switching to video, I
pan it up and down her body, zooming in on her kiss-
swollen lips, her nipples, the hickeys on the inside of her
thighs and finally her cunt and tight asshole.
Like this, ravished and exhausted, she’s utter perfection
and now all I need is for her to open her eyes and tell me
she loves me. She’s not there yet, but tonight has pushed
her a massive step closer to my ultimate goal.
The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon as I
grab my clothes and force myself to slip from her bed. I
don’t want to leave. I want to take her to my room, slide my
cock into her and chain her to me, but I tried that and it
didn’t work. I need her to wake up alone. I need her to
question why I’m not there, to feel sad, to crave me and my
touch, my cock and my attention. Her body will remind her
of me with every step, but I want her thoughts to be
consumed by me too.
I know it’s an asshole move, but as I lean down and
press a kiss against her lips, I make a silent promise that
once she’s mine, like she’s always meant to be, I’ll never let
her wake up without me again. That I’ll never let her
question how I feel about her, how much I want her, how I
don’t want to exist without her.
“I love you, little bird,” I murmur against her lips then I
leave, hating each step that takes me away from her. “Give
yourself back to me soon.”

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 STARLING

M y body slowly comes to life and I groan as my muscles

protest against the movement. Taking stock of what
hurts I realize it’s all of me. I feel weak and yet it’s not a
bad pain, more of an exhausted bliss.
Blinking my eyes open, I stare up at the vaulted ceiling
above me. There’re tiny stars painted into the rafters that
sparkle in the sunlight. Twisting my head to the right I
expect to find Sebastian, peaceful and almost soft in sleep,
only the bed is empty. I’m alone. Reaching out I touch the
sheets beside me, they’re cold, he’s been gone a while.
He left.
He fucked me all night, waking me up with his dick
every time I fell asleep and then he just left. I rack my
brain, trying to decide if he woke me up to say goodbye,
but the last thing I remember is him draping my legs over
his shoulders and fucking me. He held me immobile, not
able to do anything but take him pounding into me over
and over until I screamed my release. I must have passed
out after that and instead of sleeping beside me, he left.
Sitting up, the sheet I must have pulled over myself at
some point slips to my waist and I see the remnants of our
night all over my skin. My nipples are swollen and red, not
their usual pink, there’re bite marks and hickeys all over
me and from the tenderness in my neck, it’s received the
same treatment.
There’s dry cum on my stomach and as I lift the sheet
my thighs are covered in it too. I’m honestly not sure how
many times we had sex last night, but it must be at least
nine, or ten. Curling my legs upward, there’s a pull
between them that I know will linger for at least the rest of
the day, maybe longer.
My bladder protests, so I carefully climb out of the bed
and pad slowly to the bathroom. When I’m done, I wash my
hands and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look well
and truly fucked. Ridden hard and put away wet. Ravished.
But instead of basking in the afterglow of amazing sex, I
feel hollow and empty.
I expected him to be here, I expected to have to deal
with his domineering ways, to have to kick him out and
remind him that what happened between us was just a one-
off. But instead I’m alone. He didn’t even care long enough
for the sheets to cool before he was grabbing his clothes
and any other evidence of him being here and leaving me
like I was nothing more than a girl he met at a party and
spent the night screwing.
Is that what I am? Am I a one-night stand? Is that what
last night was? From the moment he tore into my life and
smashed it to pieces he’s called me little bird, but last night
he never used the pet name even once. Should I have
known I wasn’t special to him anymore?
Tears fill my eyes and instead of trying to fight them, I
let them fall. I cry for myself, for an amazing night that’s
been ruined by his absence, and I cry because as much as I
hate it, I wish he was here. I wish I was fighting with him; I
wish he was here so I could tell him he was an asshole and
that he doesn’t own me. But he’s not and I hate it.
More tears roll down my cheeks and I’m not sure why. I
don’t want to care about him, but the moment he put his
hands on me last night, all the unanswered questions I’ve
been asking myself over and over again didn’t seem to
matter, because he was the answer to them all.
The boy who blew my world to pieces, is the only person
who can put me together again, but I gave myself to him
last night and this morning he was gone. He’s spent years
chasing me but the moment I stop running he turns and
calmly walks in the opposite direction.
My own confusion wars with the anger Sebastian always
seems to provoke in me. Half of me wants to storm
downstairs and kick him in the balls for leaving, the other
half refuses to ever chase him.
A beeping sound calls me back into my bedroom and I
flop onto the bed, grabbing my cell from where I apparently
put it on charge last night. There’re three texts from
Sammy and a missed called from my dad.
I feel too ragged to speak to my dad right now. He
knows Sebastian is here. I didn’t tell him that he
orchestrated me being here too or why he did it, I just told
him that Harry had arranged for me to be in the same
house as Evan and that the others had all decided to
transfer here to be together for their junior and senior
years. Dad was furious, he tried to get me to leave, to come
home to Maine, I refused. That was a week ago and both of
us have been too stubborn to contact the other until now.
Clicking into my messages, I promise myself that I’ll call
Dad later.

Sammy: Where did you go?

Sammy: Clay (OMG how hot is he!!!) told me

Sebastian took you home. AHHHHHHHHH I really
hope he’s fucking you into the mattress right now. I
want to hear ALL the dirty details tomorrow.

Sammy: Are you alive? Did he wear your pussy out???

 A bark of laughter falls from my lips and I type out a
reply.

Me: I’m alive, not so sure about my pussy.

She replies almost instantly.

Sammy: YES GIRL!!!! So are you and the stalker back

together?? Is that what you want??

Me: **Shrugging emoji** he was gone when I woke

up.

Sammy: WTF what a douche!!! Want to go get

breakfast off campus? We can drink mimosas and
bitch about beautiful boys.

Me: Do you have a car?

Sammy: Of course. Get dressed I’ll come grab you in

our cart.

Me: KK see you soon.

I try to jump up from the bed, but my limbs protest and I

groan, pushing my hand between my thighs and gripping
my battered pussy. Rolling more sedately off the mattress, I
head back to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.
When I’ve washed all the dried cum off my body, I get
dressed in a pretty pale-blue sundress and then use
concealer to cover the worst of the visible hickeys
Sebastian gave me. I’m pretty sure I left some on him too,
so it won’t take a genius to figure out what happened
between us last night.
 When I’m as presentable as I’m going to get this
morning and walking as tenderly as I can, I descend the
stairs hoping to avoid my housemates—especially Sebastian
—until I can decide what to do about him.
“Morning, sis,” Evan says, walking out of his bedroom
door just as I hit his landing. “Rough night?” he asks with a
wink.
“Urgh,” I groan, “You’d have thought with as much
money as your families have, they’d invest in some
soundproofing.”
“All the bedrooms are soundproofed, all except yours.
Normally I’d be totally down for a free porn soundtrack to
fall asleep to, but then just as I was drifting off you’d go
again and again and again. If I’m honest I’m impressed
with both of y’alls stamina. I’m actually surprised you can
walk at all today.”
“Oh my god, Evan,” I cringe, punching him in the arm as
we walk down the stairs side by side. “Did you even
consider just not telling me you heard me having sex last
night?”
He wrinkles his brow for a second as he thinks, then he
turns and smirks. “No.”
“God, I hate you.”
Dropping his arm across my shoulders he pulls me into
the kitchen. “Having a sister is fun,” he laughs, only
releasing me when Clay and Hunter both jump up from
their chairs, turn their attention to me and start to clap.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, rolling my eyes as I flip them the bird,
ignoring them as I grab a bottle of water from the drink
cooler.
“Where’s Bastian?” Clay asks.
I shrug. “No clue.”
“Has he seen how short that dress is?” Hunter asks with
a raised brow.
“He bought it, so I’m going to go with yes, but as he’d
gone before I woke up this morning I’m also going to
suggest he wouldn’t care either way.” I have no idea why
I’m telling them this. We’re not friends and they’re firmly
team Sebastian, they’ve proved that over and over. But a
part of me wants to know what they think. If they’re as
shocked as I am that he ghosted me this morning, or if this
is standard operating procedure for him.
“What do you mean?” Evan asks, walking to stand
beside me.
“I mean, we fucked, then I fell asleep with him in the
bed and woke up alone.”
“Did he leave a note? Maybe he went to get coffee or
breakfast or something,” Clay suggests, but I can tell by
the expression on his face that he doesn’t believe it.
“No note, and he’d been gone a while. I mean, it doesn’t
matter, we agreed it was just for the night, he honored that.
Suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
“Wait, so you guys didn’t make up? You’re not back
together?” Evan asks.
“No,” I shake my head. “No, we didn’t even… No. Last
night was just about sex.”
“Do you want to get back together with him?” Hunter
asks, in that quiet way of his.
I shrug, avoiding any of their eyes, because the truth is I
really don’t know how I feel about Sebastian. “You can’t get
back together with someone you never agreed to be with in
the first place.”
The sound of a golf cart horn beeping from outside
breaks the strained moment between me and Sebastian’s
friends, and I shake off the weirdness of discussing this
stuff with them. “That’s Sammy, see you later.”
“Where are you going?” Clay asks.
“Off campus to get breakfast.”
“Take my car, don’t ride the bus,” Evan says, holding his
keys out for me to take.
“Oh, I can’t drive.”
“But you have your permit,” Clay says.
 “Having a permit and knowing how to drive are two
different things. Mom can’t drive either, we planned to
learn together, but then… well you know what happened
and I left. But it’s fine, Sammy has a car. Bye.”
All three guys stare at me a little shocked, but I don’t
ask them what the problem is, I just leave, eager to get
some space and some time away from campus for the first
time since I got here.
“Morning, girl, you look surprisingly fresh for someone
who was being fucked all night,” she says in greeting.
“You don’t look too perky. What happened with Ross?”
“Who?” she grimaces.
“The guy you were making out with?”
“Wasn’t his name Rob?”
“No,” I laugh.
“Oh. Well your housemates are serious cockblockers.
After I got your text to say you were leaving, they decided
to come play security to me. They scared Rob off.”
“Ross.”
“Yeah, him. They scared him off and then kept giving
every guy who came near me death stares until they left.
My lady balls were so blue by the time they dropped me off
at home that I had to bring out my BOB to save the day.”
“If you weren’t up all night having sex, why do you look
so tired?”
She grimaces. “Because my orgy-loving roomies were. I
walked in on a full-blown sex show. The triplets. Did I tell
you the girls were identical triplets?”
“Er, no,” I laugh.
“Yep Amie, Amelia and Anastasia Attingham. They’re
either nymphos or they are looking to get knocked up
before the end of the first semester. We’ve only been here a
few weeks and Amie is already engaged and pregnant. I
assumed that might make her and Tim take a step back
from the constant orgies, but no, now she’s jumping from
cock to cock, warming them up for her sisters. I really,
really need to move out, I’ve got to the point where I’m
frightened to touch anything in case it has someone’s fluids
on it.”
“Ewww that is gross. I wish we had a spare room in our
house, I’d love another girl to balance out the testosterone
in that place.”
We chat away until we reach one of the valet stations
and a familiar face steps out. “Starling,” Angelo says with a
bright smile. “How you doing?”
“Hi, Angelo, I’m good thanks, this is my friend Sammy.”
“Hey, Sammy,” he nods, glancing at her briefly then
turning back to me. “I haven’t seen you around, I thought
you might come visit me.”
“Er, yeah, it’s been a hectic few weeks, settling into
school, making friends.” I shrug.
“Yeah, that’s cool. Maybe you’d let me take you out
some time?” he asks.
“Ohhh, er.”
“Ahh someone snapped you up already, didn’t they?”
“No, I don’t have a boyfriend, it’s just.” Wrinkling my
brow I try to decide what to say. “Er, it’s complicated.”
Angelo nods, his smile dimming. “I get it. But if things
uncomplicate themselves, or you change your mind, you let
me know.”
“I will,” I nod, offering him a small smile.
Another valet arrives with Sammy’s car and I climb into
the passenger seat, not glancing in Angelo’s direction as
she pulls away from the curb.
“He was cute, why did you say no?”
“I don’t know, he is cute, but he doesn’t really do
anything for me.”
“Hmm,” she says, smirking knowingly at me as we drive
through the entrance gates and onto the road.
“This is the first time I’ve left campus since I got here.”
“What?” she gasps. “How come?”
 “I don’t have a car and the closest bus stop is like
twenty minutes’ walk from here.”
“You ride the bus?” she asks appalled.
For the first time in years, I remember how ignorant of
the real world the wealthy and entitled are. “Yeah, that’s
how normal folk get places when they don’t have a car.”
“Wow, I sound like a stuck-up bitch, don’t I? I’m sorry,
there’s just no way my parents would let me take a bus
anywhere, they think I’m too young to even be in school,
they wanted me to defer my place at Kingsacre and stay
home for another year.”
“It’s fine, it’s just been a few years since I was around
the überwealthy. The tiny town we lived in, in Maine was
just full of fisherman and their families, the nicest car in
town was the shiny new school bus.”
“But your mom married Daddy Warbucks, so you’re like
rich now too. Also, fuck you very much for not telling me
exactly who your stalker and your housemates were. The
Lockwoods, Morrises, Rossbergs and Jansens are like
American royalty, they’re not just rich, they’re next level
rich and insanely powerful. To be honest, if I’d known
you’re basically a Morris I think I’d have been too
intimidated to speak to you that first day.”
“I’m not a Morris. I’m a Kennedy, just the plain old
normal daughter of a fisherman from Maine, Starling
Kennedy. My mom married into all that, not me.”
Sammy mouths “Ohh,” then falls silent for a few minutes
until we reach a small row of shops, bars and restaurants.
“I literally had no idea this was here,” I admit.
“Have you been eating on campus this whole time too?”
“Mainly. The last couple of weeks since I started trying
to piss Sebastian off, I’ve been eating more at home, the
guys like to cook, which I find odd, but the refrigerator is
always stocked and the food in the cafeteria at night is
truly awful.”
 Sammy parks the car and we climb out. She heads
toward a cute restaurant with comfy-looking sofas out front
in beachy pinks and oranges. We sit and a waitress takes
our orders.
“Has he texted you yet?” she asks.
“He hadn’t before we left. I’m not sure he will, he’s not
the wait three days type, he’s the slide an engagement ring
onto your finger while you sleep kind of a guy.”
“Oh my god, I love him. You make him sound like such
an asshole.”
“He’s the biggest asshole.”
“With the biggest dick by the looks of it, don’t think I
haven’t notice how you’re walking this morning.”
“I’m actually in pain, my thighs are chaffed and I think I
might need to take some Tylenol, my pussy has a pulse.”
“Oh my god,” she cackles. “Tell me everything, how did
it even happen? Last thing I remember was you dancing
with a sexy ginger, then we danced, then you were gone.”
“Urgh, I don’t even know. He said he wanted to be
friends.”
“Friends?”
“Exactly, I mean what the fuck? So I got really angry and
I just wanted to leave, so I texted you and then he followed
me and caught up to me, and the next thing I know we’re
fucking against a tree.”
Her mouth falls open and then twists into a grin. “Just
like that? He suggests friends, you suggest some alfresco
sex?”
“It’s all a bit of a blur, he did his Sebastian Jedi mind
trick shit and said he wouldn’t take anything from me
anymore, said that I had to offer; and oh my god, I think I
kind of begged him.” Covering my face with my hands I
groan.
“You like him, don’t you?” Sammy asks, her tone serious
now.
“I hate him.”
 “Okay, just for a minute, take away all the stuff from the
past and just think about what’s happened since you got to
Kingsacre. You like him.”
“The problem is I can’t discount the stuff that happened,
it shaped me and fundamentally changed me as a person. I
might and it’s a really big question mark, like this version
of Sebastian, but how can I forget everything he’s done to
me?”
Our waitress arrives with our food and I fall silent,
thanking her as I lift my mimosa to my lips. “Why didn’t she
ask for ID?”
“None of the bars along this strip bother asking for ID
from the Kingsacre students,” she says, waving my concern
away. “Okay, so let’s take it one offense at a time. You guys
met in high school?”
“Met probably isn’t accurate, I never spoke to him
before the day he announced I was his. But yeah, according
to him and the others, he saw me when I was a freshman
and decided I belonged to him.”
“That’s when Clay, Evan and Hunter started watching
you for him? This is the bit I don’t understand, why didn’t
he just come say hi?”
“GAA, the school we went to, has these weird rules.
Every freshman has a year to prove who they are, and that
means for the first year they don’t really interact with the
older kids and the older kids aren’t allowed to mess with
them. It’s supposed to give you a year to find your place or
some shit.”
“And Sebastian and the others were like prefects?”
“The Elite, yeah. There’s a tradition that the graduating
Elite seniors pick their replacements from the juniors, but
the guys were picked as freshmen. It was a whole thing,
but basically it meant they were royalty, they were Elites
for three years, not just one, and their word was law.”
“So they were the kings and Sebastian wanted to make
you his queen, but he didn’t make his move until your
sophomore year?”
A bitter laugh falls from my lips. “Yeah, it was the first
day of classes and I had a shift at the diner I worked at
straight after school. By the time I had my uniform on, they
were sitting in a booth in my section. I was so scared, I
thought they were there to tell me I was getting kicked out
of school, but instead Sebastian told me I was his and that I
had to quit my job. Clay went and spoke to my boss and
came back with my final paycheck. I’m not entirely sure
what they threatened him with, but he told me not to
bother coming back.”
“Wow.”
“Oh that’s not even the worst thing they did that day.
They forced me to get into their car and then he just
started telling me I was his. God, I think he even mentioned
us getting engaged. I freaked the fuck out and must have
passed out, because when I woke up I was in a bedroom at
his house. He had a doctor there for me and he called my
mom out and she stayed the night. I still don’t know how he
managed to convince everyone that I was there willingly,
but no one ever questioned it.”
“Your mom never thought it was weird?”
“No. Mom drank the Kool-Aid from day one, she loves
Sebastian, I told her what he was doing and she just
brushed it off as teenage drama. When I went to Maine I
had a complete fucking meltdown. I told my dad everything
and he never questioned it. He hates Sebastian, well all of
them really.”
“But apart from that first few days, Sebastian hasn’t
been a total psycho, right?”
I exhale slowly. “No, not really. He scared the crap out of
me that first day, he said all this shit about cages and
clipping my wings and loads of other fucked-up stuff, but
then he just changed his mind and set me free.”
“Wow,” she says again.
 “Half of me thinks he’s still fucking with me, but I just
don’t know anymore. I want to walk away, to leave and
forget about him, but it’s like he’s infected my thoughts.
He’s been the monster under the bed for so long now, I just
don’t think I can just pretend he’s not a part of my life.”
“And the sex?”
“Well I’ve got nothing else to compare it to, but it was
phenomenal, completely out of this world. I came so many
times I actually thought about asking him to stop making
me orgasm at one point. I don’t know what it is about being
with him, our past is so toxic and even when he’s not
messing with me, it still feels like he’s messing with me.
Last night when I was dancing with that guy, all I could
think about was that it felt wrong, him touching me. I got
asked out a couple of days ago and I felt nothing but an
icky guilt, like if I agreed I’d be cheating. When Sebastian
touches me, even after all our fucked-up history, it feels
right.”
“Oh my god, this is some next level messed up,” Sammy
laughs.
“Tell me about it. I’ve never even kissed anyone but
him.”
“We need to change that. You can’t make an informed
decision about Sebastian if you’ve never experienced
anything else. There’s a block party tonight at Bufford Row
in the town houses, we’re going to go and you’re going to
find a cute guy to kiss. If it’s good then great, you can
explore what boys are like away from Sebastian and his
mind fuckery. If it’s bad, or it feels wrong, then maybe as
messed up as he is, Sebastian is the one, and you need to
figure out a way to forget the past and move forward.”

OceanofPDF.com
 27

OceanofPDF.com
 SEBASTIAN

I t’s been hours since I left her room and I can still smell
her on me. I need to shower, but the thought of washing
her off my skin is repellant. My cell is at my side, I half
expected her to text me this morning, but she didn’t,
instead her and her friend went out to breakfast and
haven’t been back since.
When her security team advised me that she left campus
I almost followed and dragged her back. I’m happy to allow
her the illusion of freedom in the confines of Kingsacre, but
if she tries to actually leave me, I won’t be able to allow her
to go.
As hard as it was to leave her this morning, I’m
confident it was the right thing to do. I know she was
confused and a little pissed, she even spoke to the guys
about it, but making her mad is completely worth it if it
forces her to deal with the way I know she feels about me.
My dick starts to harden the moment I let myself think
about how it was between us last night. I never forced her
the first time we had sex, but there was definitely some
coercion, manipulation and heated emotions that fueled it.
Last night was all about want and need. She offered herself
to me and that gift made everything better.
For me there’re several types of sex. There’s sex for
sex’s sake, no emotions, not repeats, just the fun of shoving
your dick in someone until you get off. Then there’s
fucking, usually fun, sweaty and enthusiastic, sometimes
repeated, but never taken too seriously. What Starling and I
have done is angry fucking. Hot, intense, insanely good sex
that you want to do again the moment you finish. It’s the
kind of sex that you never forget, that changes you and
bonds you to the other person for the rest of forever
because it’s fueled by emotions that are so strong they may
fade, but they’ll never go away.
Last night changed things for us. We’re still playing this
game we’ve been playing since the first time I saw her, only
now we’re in the final round with only a handful of turns
left to take, winner gets it all. She doesn’t know it yet but I
only ever play games I know I can win. I want her back in
my bed by the end of the week and my ring on her finger by
the end of the month. The best thing is that she’ll come to
me willingly, admitting that it’ll only ever be us and that
her future doesn’t exist without me in it.
My cell beeps and I grab it hoping it’s from her, but it’s
from her security team.

Sec1: Just returned to campus

They’re more discrete now, watching her from a

distance, but no matter what I told her and the guys,
there’s always eyes on her when she’s not with me. I wait
on tenterhooks for her to get back to the house, but thirty
minutes later she’s not back so I contact them again,
asking for her location.

Me: Location?

Sec1: Alistern House.

 She’s at her friend’s house. I don’t like it, but it’s not as
if I can go and retrieve her without confessing that she’s
being followed, so instead I head downstairs and find the
guys playing Xbox in the living room. “Hey,” I say, sliding
onto the couch next to Clay.
“Hey,” Evan says, not looking away from the TV screen
and the game he’s playing.
“What’s up with you and Starling? Her room’s not
soundproofed, we could hear you making her scream all
fucking night long,” Hunter growls.
I smirk. “Yeah, sorry about that. You hearing I mean, not
me fucking her all night long.”
“She told us you bailed before she woke up?” Evan asks,
a challenging gleam in his eyes.
“We agreed it was just for the night, so I booked before
the sun came up and I broke her rules,” I shrug, feigning
nonchalance.
“I thought you were gonna try and work things out with
her. How is fucking her, then making her feel like shit by
ditching her before she wakes up fixing things?” Clay asks
accusingly.
“Hey I’m trying to make things right, I stayed away until
she came to me. Last night I asked her if we could start
over, try to be friends and she suggested we fuck. It was
her idea; she made the rules, I’m just trying to follow
them,” I say, holding my hands up like I’m surrendering.
“She was upset that you weren’t there,” Hunter offers.
“You hoping to see her tonight? Maybe you could ask
her out on a date or something?” Evan suggests.
“Nah, I’m going to give her some space, respect those
boundaries she’s always saying I cross. We live in the same
house, it’s not like we’re not going to see each other,” I tell
them with a shrug, forcing my expression to stay neutral
while I spew bullshit to my best friends.
I spend the next few hours playing Xbox and resisting
the urge to text Starling and demand she get her ass home.
But by the time the pizza we order for dinner arrives, I’m
starting to get more than pissed. Pulling my cell from my
pocket I text her security team again.

Me: Location?

Sec1: Party – Bufford Row.

Me: Who?

Sec1: Starling, Sammy and three unknown males.

Me: Have they touched her?

Sec1: Negative. Shall we intervene?

Me: No, I’m on my way

Sec1: Copy.

“I don’t want to stay in tonight, this is our junior year

and since Starling got here I’ve been a moody
motherfucker. Anyone know any parties happening tonight?
Let’s go be social and get some beers,” I suggest.
“Bound to be a party somewhere, let me send a few
texts,” Evan says, pulling his cell out.
Resting my hand on my knee to stop my foot tapping
impatiently, I force myself to eat while I wait for one of my
friends to tell me there’s a party at Bufford Row.
“Chad says there’s a lacrosse party down on the field,”
Hunter says.
“There’s a block party at Bufford Row,” Evan offers.
“Is that the town houses closest to campus?” I ask,
already knowing exactly where it is.
 “Yeah, I forgot about it, they always throw a party a few
weeks into the semester. Everyone in the row opens up
their houses and chips in for a few kegs. They have the
party in the street outside and each house has like a
different theme. Last year they picked retro video games.
One house was Pacman and they dressed up in these
homemade costumes, it was awesome.” Evan laughs.
“Sounds good to me, my balls are fucking blue, I need to
find me some pussy tonight,” Clay laughs.
Smiling to myself, I take another bite of my pizza,
imagining all the things I’m going to do to my little bird
when I get her into my bed tonight.

OceanofPDF.com
 28

OceanofPDF.com
 STARLING

S ammy wasn’t lying when she said her house was like a
permanent orgy. When we got here, she steered me
straight up the stairs to her room, but not before I spotted
not one, but two couples going at it in the living room.
When I reached out to put my hand on the banister, she
slapped it, taking my hand in hers and pulling me to the
middle of the stairs. “Fluids, don’t touch anything out
here.”
Cringing, I pull my free hand to my chest and cautiously
follow her to the first floor, so glad that I never offered to
take my shoes off when I came inside. When we reach her
door, she unlocks it and we both step inside.
“Wow, are they seriously like that all the time? When do
they go to class?”
“I’m honestly not sure that they do. The one that’s
pregnant and her guy leave occasionally now, but the other
four are at it like rabbits twenty-four seven,” Sammy says
with a disgusted grimace. “I’m all for having a lot of sex
and living your life with your own set of rules, but it’s
common space and they don’t ever come up for air long
enough to clean. The cleaning service refuses to come in
because they keep walking in on them fucking. I had to pay
one of the cleaners extra and then escort her to my room to
get her to clean my bathroom.”
 “Oh my god,” I laugh.
“It’s not funny,” she insists, “If my parents find out I’m
living with six nymphos, they’ll drag my ass back home and
I’ll be doomed to church on Sundays and knee-length tea
dresses for the rest of eternity.”
“There’s space in my room to add another double bed if
you want to move in with me,” I suggest.
“Considering you had a fuckfest with your hot psycho ex
last night, staying with you would probably be jumping out
of the frying pan and into the fire.”
I roll my eyes, then shrug, conceding she might have a
point. Sammy convinces me to borrow something out of her
closet to wear to the party so I don’t have to go home and
run the gauntlet of my nosy, overprotective housemates.
The shorts I borrow are khaki green with big gold
buttons. They look sexy paired with the cropped tank she
thrusts into my arms. Our feet are the same size so I slide
on the strappy gold sandals she insists look amazing and
pray that I don’t fall over and break my neck in heels this
high.
Twisting my hair up into messy space buns on the top of
my head, I keep my makeup light and add a bright-red lip.
By the time we’re outside her house and dousing our hands
in liquid sanitizer, I’ve almost forgotten about Sebastian
and how conflicting my feelings are for him.
Hooking her arm through mine, Sammy leads me around
the side of the house to where she parked the cart earlier
when we got back. “Best thing about having housemates
who never go anywhere is never having to share the cart.”
Climbing in, she backs out of the space and pulls away
from her house, chatting nonsensically about boys and
kissing and other stuff that I don’t pay attention to. Instead,
I take the time to psych myself up to find someone to kiss
tonight. Sammy is right, how can I justify whatever my
feelings for Sebastian might be if I’ve never experienced
anything different?
 Having a random guy at a party with his hands all over
me felt all kinds of wrong, but that doesn’t necessarily
mean that all guys are wrong for me. Maybe he was a
creeper or something and my body unconsciously figured
that out when his hands were on me.
Five minutes later, I hear the first signs of the party as
the dull thud of heavy bass hits my ears. There’re so many
more people at this party than the one in the woods and the
throng has a tension-filled vibe that sets my nerves on
edge. Sammy parks the cart at the end of the row and we
climb out, holding hands so the dense crowd doesn’t
separate us when we push into it.
The smell of body odor and weed fills the air and I
wrinkle my nose. You’d think with this many rich kids in
one area they’d be able to afford to buy decent deodorant,
but apparently money doesn’t equal personal hygiene.
Trying really hard not to touch anyone, I follow Sammy
through the mass of people until we reach a row of kegs
where a huge guy who looks more like he should be a
bouncer rather than a student is standing with his arms
crossed.
“Evening, ladies, cups are ten dollars each, you can refill
as many times as you like, but if you lose your cup you have
to buy a new one.”
Sammy and I shrug, then pull out money and hand it to
the guy, who passes us each blue plastic cups with the
Kingsacre logo on them.
“Kegs are tapped, always pump your own, don’t take a
drink unless you fetched it yourself,” he warns.
“We will, thanks,” I say, offering him a smile for the
safety talk, but not wanting to think about why he feels like
he needs to warn us.
As we fill our cups, I feel like I’m at a real college party.
The party in the woods with its cocktails and bartenders
felt too rich kid to be a real college experience, but
drinking beer from a plastic cup I just paid for feels much
more authentic.
“Dancing or checking out the houses first?” Sammy
asks. “The houses all decorate to a theme, this year it’s
Hawaii so expect some sand, grass skirts and coconut
bras.”
“Let’s dance a little first, get a few drinks into us, then
we can check out the houses with a bit of a buzz,” I
suggest.
Sammy smiles brightly then lifts her cup into the air, I
tap mine against hers and we throw the foul beer back,
turn and fill our cups again before making our way into the
crowd to dance.
An hour later, I’m a little drunk and loving life. My hands
are in the air and I’m dancing like I don’t have a care in the
world. Sebastian has barely managed to enter my thoughts
at all since that first beer.
“Shots time,” Sammy shouts, pulling a flask from her
purse and waving it in the air giggling. Unscrewing the top
she lifts it to her lips and takes a drink, grimacing slightly
before handing it to me. I take a drink too, gagging when
the sour hit of tequila coats my throat.
Some guys approach us and we’re all dancing when a
large body moves behind me, not quite touching me but
close enough that I can feel them. Glancing over my
shoulder, I’m surprised to find Chase smiling at me.
“I thought it was you, you look seriously hot,” he says
with a wink.
“Hey, Chase, yeah this is probably better than the
drowned rat look I was wearing at the track,” I laugh.
He laughs too, dancing behind me without making a
move to get any closer. Turning my head back to Sammy
she shimmies closer to me, leaning in until her mouth is
pressed against my ear. “He’s hot.”
“That’s the guy who asked me out the other day,” I
confess.
 “Perfect, you know he’s interested, kiss him and see how
it feels,” she urges.
Shrugging I try to imagine leaning in and pressing my
lips against Chase’s lips, but the moment I start to think
about it, Sebastian’s face replaces Chase’s and my body
starts to heat.
No. This isn’t about Sebastian, I know my body reacts to
him. Kissing another guy is about figuring out how it reacts
to someone else, and to do that I need to pretend that
Sebastian doesn’t exist.
We all dance for a bit longer, then I feel Chase move
closer, tentatively placing his hands on my hips. When I
don’t push him away, he moves closer still until my ass is
practically sitting in his groin, our bodies moving as one to
the beat of the music.
“Let’s go check out the houses,” Sammy shouts. The
group of guys that I’m now realizing must be Chase’s
buddies all agree and we move as a group, topping up our
cups on the way. This is the first time I’ve been in Bufford
House, the place I would have been living if Sebastian
hadn’t manipulated things to get me where he wanted me.
The row of houses are all connected by a long hallway
with doors opening off into each house and the living space
beyond. The floor of the hall is covered in sand and my
heels instantly sink into it. Stopping, I pull my sandals off
and carry them as we walk as a group to the end house and
enter into it. The living room has been decorated with
plastic palm leaves and we’re offered flower leis as the
sound of tropical music greets us. A hula contest is in full
swing and we shuffle past it and into the kitchen area,
where a row of guys are being soaked in water for a wet-
Hawaiian-shirt contest.
“Hell yes,” Sammy hoots, and three of the attractive
athletic guys grin at her.
We spend a little time in the house, joining the other
girls to judge the wet shirt contest, by stepping up to feel
the pecs and abs of each guy in turn until a winner is
crowned.
The next house is underwater themed, with snorkels
being used as funnels to down tropical punch. In the third
house, Chase and the other guys all dart forward to take
part in a limbo competition, and I’m laughing my ass off
when Bruce, one of Chase’s friends, shuffles along the floor
like a crab to get under the limbo stick.
The crowds are even thicker in the fourth house, and
Sammy and I lose hold of each other as we shuffle toward
the kitchen where some kind of competition is happening. I
try to keep sight of her, but there’re so many people and
without my heels I can’t even see over the shoulders of
people ahead of me.
“Don’t worry, I can see them, just hold on to me and I’ll
get us back to them,” Chase says, offering me his hand.
Nodding, I take his hand and let him push through the
crowd, creating a path for me to walk along. Meandering in
and out of people, it seems to take forever, but we finally
reach the wall, only instead of being at the door that will
take us to the kitchen, we’re at the doors that lead to the
ground floor bedrooms. This is wrong. Chase said he’d get
me back to Sammy and the others, but instead he’s led me
away from them and toward bedrooms. Panic seizes me,
but before I have a chance to scream or run, Chase’s hand
closes over my mouth, his arm banding around my waist
like a steel bar as he drags me kicking and screaming into
a bedroom, closing and locking the door behind us.
“That’s better, just the two of us alone at last,” Chase
says with a sinister smile.
“What are you doing, Chase? We need to go and find
Sammy and the others,” I say, trying to stay calm.
Tilting his head to the side, he takes in my appearance,
letting his eyes scan over me, rubbing his thumb over his
bottom lip. “No, I don’t think so,”
“I want to leave,” I say, moving to unlock the door.
 I’m not expecting the brutal backhand that explodes on
my cheek, knocking me to the floor. “Do you know who I
am?” he asks, a manic gleam flashing in his eyes.
“We have gym together,” I say, clutching my cheek.
“I’m Chase fucking Lawrence. I’m the starting
quarterback for the Kingsacre Royals, I’m going to the
NFL. Pussy lies down and spreads itself in front of me and
you… You,” he shouts, “You say no to me. No one says no to
Chase Lawrence.”
Shuffling away from him, I glance behind me, trying to
find an escape route. I’m trapped. Other than a window on
the other side of the room, and the bathroom that I’d have
to get past him to lock myself inside, there’s nowhere to
hide.
“You’re just like all the other rich bitches who think
they’re too good for the guys here on a football scholarship,
but I’m a god, on the brink of becoming a legend. You don’t
get to say no to me, you’re nothing but a cunt to be used
and I’m going to teach you a lesson. So be a good fucking
bitch and take your clothes off and maybe I’ll go easy on
you,” he snarls, spit flying from his mouth with each angry
word.

OceanofPDF.com
 29

OceanofPDF.com
 SEBASTIAN

T he sheer quantity of people at this party is unbelievable.

There’re probably twice as many people here as there
was at the party in the woods last night and unlike last
night, there’s no bar or bartender, just kegs lined up on the
floor with a guy taking money for a cup to drink from. It’s
like the great unwashed came to Kingsacre overnight and
all decided to congregate here, dancing to terrible music.
I expected to be able to find Starling straight away, to be
able to “bump” into her and then mindfuck her into coming
home with me again, but instead I’m pushing my way
through the crowd aimlessly, trying not to lose my shit and
start picking people up and throwing them out of my way
until I find her.
My little bird is tiny, if she’s in the middle of this crowd
and gets pushed, she could end up being trampled. Pulling
my cell from my pocket, I text her security team.

Me: Location?

I expect an immediate response back, but two minutes

later I still have nothing. Evan, Clay and Hunter are all
here with me, but they look as pissed off as I am about
having to push through the hoard of people. I text again.
 Me: Location?

Again, I receive nothing in reply. I’d call but the music is

so loud I can barely hear myself think, so there’s no way I’d
be able to hear anything they say to me.

Me: Where the fuck is she?

When I finally receive a response, it makes my heart

stop beating and panic surge potently through my gut.

Sec1: Location unknown. She entered the 4th house

in Bufford Row with Sammy and a group of four men.
We had eyes on her until they got separated in the
crowd. Sammy and three men are in the house’s
kitchen, Starling’s location is still unknown. We have
backup heading to the area.

My emotions collide in a mixture of fear and anger. This

is the first time in over two years that I don’t know where
she is and what she’s doing. She could be in danger; she
could be fucking that guy that she’s with. I did this, I
pushed her too far again, expecting her to act in the way I
anticipated she would, always feeling like I know when to
zig to her zag.
I can’t let this happen. She’s mine and I refuse to let
another man touch what always has and always will belong
to me. Stopping, I turn to look to my friends, letting them
see the panic on my face.
“What’s up?” Clay shouts.
“Starling is here.”
“Cool, let’s find her,” Evan smiles.
“Her security lost her, they know she went into one of
the houses with Sammy and a group of guys, but the group
got separated and they don’t know what happened to her
and one of the guys.”
“You still have a security team on her?” Hunter growls
angrily. “You told her, and us, that you told them to stop
watching her.”
“I lied,” I confess.
“What the fuck, bro?” Clay says angrily.
“I know, okay? I know I’m an asshole and you can punch
me or do whatever the fuck you need to do after we find
her.”
“Who is the guy?” Evan asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, pulling at my hair agitatedly.
“Are you worried because you think she’s going to fuck
this guy, or because you think she might be in danger?”
Hunter asks.
“Both. I can’t. She’s mine.”
“Her tracker,” Evan yells, his eyes almost as panicked as
mine.
“Fuck,” Clay hisses, shaking his head and spinning
slowly in a circle.
I consider it for a minute, before opening the app on my
cell phone that has the ability to show me the location for
the trackers all of us have implanted in the skin at the back
of our neck. None of them have ever been activated,
including Starling’s. I select her icon and change the
tracker status to active and wait as a red dot appears on
the screen, then I quickly move forward as the app advises
the distance to the tracker’s location.
It feels like it takes forever to push our way through the
throng and into the hallway that runs along the front of all
six houses in the row. According to the map, she’s still in
the fourth house, and I angrily barge past people, shoving
them out of the way as her location counts down.
Five hundred meters
One hundred meters
Fifty.
 Thirty.
Twenty.
When it reaches ten meters, we’re standing outside a
row of doors that lead to bedrooms and I see red. Lifting
my foot up, I kick in the first door, finding the room empty. I
do the same to the second door, not caring about the gasps
from the people still partying in the house that are now
watching me. It’s empty too. When I reach the third door, I
can hear muffled sounds. Wasting no time I kick open the
door, only to find Starling on the floor beneath a huge guy.
She’s kicking and screaming, frantically trying to push him
off her as he rips at her clothes.
Blackness engulfs the edges of my vision and all I see is
her face and the terror that’s etched into her beautiful
features. I don’t realize I’ve moved until I’ve ripped him
away from her, pinning him beneath me as I’m slamming
my fist into his face over and over.
“Sebastian.”
The sound of her voice pulls me from my murderous
rage and I stop, my knuckles split and covered in a mixture
of his blood and my own. His face is a mess, his hands
lifted, trying to protect himself from my fists.
“Sebastian,” she calls again, her voice cracking.
Pushing off him, I turn toward her, moving a step closer,
watching her intently, not wanting to scare her. Scrambling
off the floor she runs to me, launching herself into my arms
as gulping, broken sobs burst from her shaking body.
The next hour is a blur. Starling refuses to release me,
even as the police take her statement and she tells them
how he dragged her into his bedroom and attempted to
rape her using the party noise to cover the sounds of her
screams.
The moment I tell them who I am, the police barely
question why Chase Lawrence’s face looks like hamburger
meat. With Starling’s statement, the bruise on her cheek
from where he hit her and the video from the camera he’d
set up to record him raping my girl, it’s a pretty open and
shut case for the cops who haul him away handcuffed to the
stretcher in the back of an ambulance.
Sammy, Evan, Clay and Hunter are all standing around
us, watching as Starling clings to me. “Let’s go home,” I
whisper into her neck, supporting her weight with my
hands beneath her ass as I stand up and carry her out of
the now-empty house.
The others follow us out, but no one speaks as we make
our way back to the carts. I climb into ours with Evan and
Hunter, While Clay gets into Sammy’s with her.
“Bring her back to ours, she can stay the night in case
Starling needs her,” I tell Clay, who nods.
No one speaks as we drive back to the house until I
unlock the front door and step inside. “Little bird, do you
want Sammy to help you get cleaned up?” I ask.
“No,” Starling says, her face buried in my shoulder.
“Will you let me help you?” I ask quietly.
I feel rather than see her nod, glancing at the others
before I slowly climb the stairs to the third floor. Pushing
the door open to my room, I carry her straight into the
bathroom and turn on the shower.
“I need to put you down so you can shower, okay?”
“No, don’t leave me,” she begs.
“I’ll stay in here if that’s what you want.”
“Get in with me.”
Nodding, I lower her to the floor and carefully help her
remove her clothes. “Get rid of them, I never want to see
them again,” she says, her lower lip trembling.
My own clothes are covered in blood so I quickly strip
and then throw both her and my clothes onto the landing to
deal with later, before rushing back to her.
She’s still standing where I left her, her arms wrapped
around her naked breasts, her eyes closed.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, completely at a loss
as to how to make this better.
 “Help me wash his touch off.”
Nodding, I slowly approach her, carefully rubbing my
thumb over the darkening bruise on her cheek. I expect her
to flinch, but instead she leans into my touch, a silent sob
breaking from her lips.
Lifting her, I help her beneath the water and between
us, we wash her skin, until she’s pink and her sobs have
changed into soft tremors. Once she’s clean, I grab a cloth
and get all of the blood from me, then turn off the shower
and grab a towel for her, wrapping it around her as I lift
her out, placing her on the floor.
Wrapping a towel around my own waist, I carefully dry
her skin while she stands still and just allows me to take
care of her. If this wasn’t the most fucked-up situation ever,
I’d be loving the way she’s giving her trust to me.
When we’re dry, I grab one of my T-shirts for her and
pull it over her head while she pushes her arms into it. It
falls to her knees, but I still grab her a pair of my boxers
and offer them to her. She shakes her head, sitting down on
the edge of the bed.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit, feeling useless.
“I’ll be okay, he scared the shit out of me, but he didn’t
actually do anything before you found me.”
Exhaling a slow breath, I try to stay calm and not let the
rage that’s still simmering below the surface boil over.
“How did you find me, Sebastian?”
Exhaling slowly, I think about what to do. I could lie to
her, tell her that it was all just chance. I could use this to
my advantage, twist this awful night into another game, but
that doesn’t feel right. I love her and tonight she was
almost hurt, almost raped because I played games with her
and sent her spiraling into the arms of a rapist. I don’t
deserve her, I never have. It’s time to tell her the truth and
then actually let her go, it’s the only way I can stop hurting
her.
 “I lied when I told you I called off your security detail. I
didn’t.”
“What?” she asks.
“I lied. There’s been someone following you all the time
since you got here, they never stopped, even though I told
you they had.”
“Why?” she breathes.
“Because I couldn’t bear giving up that control over
you,” I confess.
“So they found me?”
I shake my head, “No, they had eyes on you when you
first went into the house, then when you split from Sammy,
they lost you.”
“Then?” she trails off.
This is it, this is the moment I make her hate me forever.
“Can I touch you?”
She nods and I reach for her hand and then bend down,
placing her fingers on the back of my neck right at the base
of my hairline. “Do you feel that?” I ask, moving her finger
back and forth over the microchip about the size of a grain
of rice beneath my skin.
“What is that?”
“When I was a kid someone tried to kidnap me, Evan,
Clay and Hunter. They knew our families were close and
that we traveled to school together every day, so they
planned to hijack our car, take us, then ransom us back to
our families.”
“Oh my god,” she gasps.
“Somehow, our families found out and the person was
stopped, but afterward, a doctor came to the house and
injected tracking devices into us. We all have them, our
parents too.”
“Okay,” she says slowly.
Lifting her hand, I take it from my neck and curl it
around, placing it on the back of her own neck, positioning
her finger over her own tracker.
 “How?” she pants.
I don’t want to, but I let go of her hand and exhale as I
prepare to tell her everything. “The day we came to you at
the diner, you passed out in the car on the way home. I had
our family doctor come to check on you. He gave you some
water to drink that I had him lace with a sedative. While
you were asleep, I had him implant that into your neck.”
Her hand trembles as she lifts it to cover her mouth.
“I swear to you that I have never activated it, not before
tonight, but when you went missing and your security
didn’t know where you were I freaked out. I’m not sorry
that I did this to you, because it got me there in time to
protect you, but I am sorry for how I went about having it
fitted in the first place.”
Her eyes are wide and she’s looking at me like she has
no idea who I am, like I’m as big a monster as the man who
had her pinned to the floor tonight, and maybe I am.
“I’ve never felt anything like the obsession that
consumed me the day I saw you for the first time. I’m not
saying that to excuse everything that I’ve done, I’m just
trying to explain it maybe. Being an only child and coming
from the family I do, I’m used to being spoiled, it doesn’t
hurt that I look the way I do. Until you, I’ve never met
anyone who didn’t fall at my feet and agree to do whatever
I wanted just to please me. As conceited as it sounds, it
really never even crossed my mind that you wouldn’t want
to be my girlfriend.”
Swallowing thickly I look at her, knowing that after
tonight she’ll never be mine again, but knowing that I need
to tell her anyway.
“I thought you were playing hard to get, that the push
and pull was all just a game. And then you ran. When I first
assigned the security team to you, it was out of hurt pride.
If I couldn’t be happy with you, then I wouldn’t let you be
happy with anyone else either. It wasn’t until I got you here
that I saw the damage I’ve done to you. A part of me wants
to lie and say that I’m sorry, that I wish I could go back and
stop myself from falling in love with you on the first day of
your freshmen year. But I don’t. I will never regret loving
you, because even though you were barely mine for a few
weeks, they were still the best days of my life. I lied when I
told you I was setting you free after you got to Kingsacre, I
never intended to leave you alone. I told myself it was just
another game to let you think you were free, so when you
did come back to me, it would be willingly. But I fucked up
and because I’m an asshole I pushed you toward that guy.
I’m so fucking sorry, Starling. You got hurt, you were nearly
raped because I’m an asshole who can’t deal with the
woman I love not loving me back. But I promise, I fucking
promise that I’ll leave you alone from now on. I’m gonna
pack a case and tomorrow, I’m going to transfer back to
Harvard. I’ll make this right.”

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 30

OceanofPDF.com
 STARLING

S ebastian starts to stand and I reach out and grab his

arm, halting his movements. He’s thrown so much
information at me in the last five minutes that I barely
know where to start to work through it all, but the thing
that sticks out the most is that he loves me.
“You love me?” I question. It’s not the first time he’s told
me, but it’s the first time I actually believe him.
“More than anything else in the world, more than I
realized it was possible to love another person.”
“I have a tracker in my neck?”
“I can arrange for it to be removed, there’s normally a
tiny scar, but I can get a plastic surgeon to make sure you
can’t see anything.”
“Why are you so obsessed with me, Sebastian?” I ask. “I
need more than you seeing me and knowing I was meant to
be yours.”
His laugh is low and sad. “It started because you were
beautiful, but then you said no to me. It was like you lit a
match against a tinder, you fought, you bartered, you
challenged me and I love it. And now it’s because I broke
you and you came back fighting. You are singularly the
strongest, most stubborn, resilient, beautiful person I have
ever met. You refuse to do as I say, ignore my rules, flout
my threats and laugh at my ultimatums. You make me fight
you, for everything, and I have never needed anyone the
way I need you. In the world we live in, all I have to do is
say my name and problems just fall away. I beat the shit out
of that guy tonight and if I were anyone else, I’d have been
arrested, but as soon as I told them who I was they were
shutting up their little notepads and walking away. I love
you, because you don’t give a crap who I am. I love you
because the moment I touch you it feels like my skin is set
on fire. I love you because you are the only person I know
I’ll never ever get bored of.”
“So you love me because I’m a pain in your ass?” I
laugh.
A soft chuckle reaches my ears and I can’t help but stare
at him. “You are everything I’ll never deserve.”
“You took over my life in high school.”
“I know.”
“You turned my best friend against me.”
“In my defense, she confessed really early on that she
was only friends with you because she saw me watching
you and she thought you might help her get to me and the
others.”
“You destroyed my relationship with my mom.”
“I know,” he says, bowing his head.
“You stalked me.”
“I did,” he nods.
“You sabotaged my college plans to get me here.”
He silently agrees.
“You had a tracker implanted in my neck and had a
security team follow my every move?”
“Yes.”
As I list his crimes, I feel a smile start to form on my
lips. Nothing about what he’s done is funny, but I can’t help
it and by the time I’m finished, I’m giggling. This boy, this
man has put me through so much. But he’s also protected
me in his own fucked-up way. He’s cared for me, made me
feel more than I realized was possible.
 He orchestrated the destruction of my relationship with
my mom, but if I’m honest with myself, wasn’t it fractured
before he came into my life? Before Sebastian I was more
of the parent than she was. I worried about and paid the
bills, I did the grocery shopping and cooked our meals. I
was the adult, while she hid from the world behind her
keyboard and the worlds within her books. Sebastian might
have hammered the final nail in the coffin, but I can finally
admit that what happened between me and her wasn’t
solely his fault.
I was numb until he brought me here and jump-started
me again. Now I’m living, with a new friend and
possibilities. His love is a hurricane that hurts and destroys
but when you’re in the eye of the storm with him, it’s
calming, peaceful and beautiful.
For the very first time, I allow myself to be honest about
how I feel about him. I don’t disguise my feelings with hurt
or anger, I just let them flow out and think about how I’d
feel if he was gone.
“I love you too,” I blurt.
“What?” he gasps, leaning into me, crowding me, before
he inhales sharply and leans back, putting space between
us again.
“I’m in love with you,” I say, trying the words out on my
tongue and liking the way they feel.
“No you’re not. You hate me, you should hate me.”
“I do, and you’re right I should hate you. I don’t really
understand why, but I love you too, no matter how fucked
up it is.”
With the words out there, I exhale and relax. Saying it
out loud is like taking a weight I hadn’t realized I was
carrying around off my shoulders. “I love you,” I say it
again.
“You can’t love me,” he says, shrugging with that
austere look he gets that makes me want to slap him.
“I can’t?” I question.
 “No, you can’t. I’m an asshole, I’ve done terrible things
to you, ruined your life, ruined you. You hate me, you don’t
love me.”
Scoffing, I crawl across the bed and into his lap,
straddling his legs until my butt is sitting on his thighs.
“Sebastian,” I whisper against his lips.
“Yeah,” he gasps, his hands curled into fists at his sides
as he tries to stop himself from touching me.
“Shut up and kiss me.”

The end

OceanofPDF.com
 EPILOGUE

OceanofPDF.com
 ONE MONTH LATER

S ince the attack and me confessing my feelings for him,

everything and nothing has changed between us. He
insisted that I hated him and couldn’t possibly love him
after everything he’d done and I agreed, then I stripped
naked and convinced him that I could both love and hate
him in equal measures. After that I think he decided not to
look a gift horse in the mouth and just accept that I want
him in spite of our tumultuous past.
For the first two weeks he was on his best behavior, not
demanding anything from me and waiting for me to offer
whatever I decided to give him, but after two weeks of
taunting and torturing him, it got old and I found I actually
missed his over-the-top, crazy, jealous, obsessed, stalkerish
ways.
When I confessed this to him, he refused to believe it.
He was absolutely convinced that I was playing with him,
getting revenge for all the mind-fucking he’s done to me
over the years. I can kind of understand why he felt like it
could all be a cruel joke, and I’ll admit seeing him insecure
and unsure of himself was an incredibly gratifying
experience, but as much as I might be tempted to, I’ve
never played those kind of mind games with him.
It wasn’t until I went deliberately AWOL that he lost his
shit and the real Sebastian finally came out to play. After he
tracked me down and fucked me so hard I screamed loud
enough to make my voice hoarse, we sat down and talked
about which of his stalker behaviors I could tolerate and
which were hard limits for me. Then he spent the whole
night forcing orgasm after orgasm on me, to try and get me
to agree to things I told him were deal breakers.
No matter how normal Sebastian pretends to be, I know
that his obsession with me is as potent and out of control
now as it was the day he decided I was his. And a month
down the line I’ve discovered I enjoy pushing his buttons
until he loses control and turns into the snarling, angry,
threatening man he was the day he revealed he was my
cage and that he’d never let me go.
I know I still have a full-time security team following me
around, but I’ve never seen them and most of the time I
forget they’re even there. As much as Sebastian likes to
pretend he doesn’t want to keep me locked up, he
confessed that he would struggle to not know where I was
at all times and I came to the conclusion I could tolerate
being followed as long as I didn’t have to see it, or feel the
eyes on me.
The tracking device is still beneath the skin in my neck,
but he promised he’s never activated it unless I was
actually in danger. He did activate his though and from the
app he installed on my phone, I can know exactly where he
is at all times, not that I’ve ever thought to look.
The messed-up history we share hasn’t just disappeared
since we admitted our feelings for each other, and it’ll be a
long time before my dad will ever accept that Sebastian
and I are together. He doesn’t understand how I could
possibly forgive him for everything he’s done to me, and I
get it, some days I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to totally
forgive him completely either. But what my dad is starting
to understand is that even with all the awful things that
have happened between us, we love each other, and
sometimes love doesn’t make sense and it isn’t always kind.
I’m hoping at some point in the future they can become
tolerantly cordial toward each other, and possibly,
eventually Dad could maybe learn to like him. My mom is
over the moon that Sebastian and I are trying to work
things out, she even turned up at Kingsacre thinking that
mine and her relationship would be instantly fixed too. Just
like my dad isn’t willing to forget Sebastian’s sins, I’m not
ready to pretend that my mom didn’t abandon me when I
needed her the most. Perhaps we can reclaim some
semblance of a friendship in the future, but for right now
I’m still keeping her at a distance.
Mine and Sebastian’s relationship is our own special
brand of fucked up and even though it shouldn’t, it works
for us. I do whatever I want and he fights me on it, trying to
get his own way. Sometimes I win, other times he
manipulates me until I give in and give him what he wants.
It’s probably not healthy and it’s definitely not normal, but
it is us. It’s love and hate and complete, out of control,
beautiful obsession.

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 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Wow, this book didn’t want to end!

I’ve really enjoyed being able to explore a new world
and add a darker twist on a sexy story. Sebastian is all
kinds of fucked up, but I really fell for his unapologetically
psycho behavior.
When I was asked to be a part of the Filthy Elites
Anthology, I saw the lineup of other authors and instantly
thought I’d been invited by mistake. My next thought was
to say yes before they figured out I was the wrong person
LOL. Impostor syndrome is a real thing and this was
probably the first time I’ve really experienced it, but no
matter how I got here, I’m so thrilled to have my book be in
a set with such outstanding authors.
The last few years have been all kinds of messed up
(thanks, COVID), and I think more than ever we’ve needed
the escapism of a good book, so I really hope you’ve
enjoyed this chance to step out of your own life and into my
characters.
I’m really hoping my wonderful editor Sarah Goodman
likes Sebastian, I have a sneaking suspicion she will.
Like always, my bestie Sarah gets a mention, because I
love her and she rocks.
My wonderful fellow author and friend Sybil Bartel, this
book has an ending because you listened to the ten
thousand messages I sent you and helped me end the book
that just wouldn’t end. You inspired me to write in the first
place and you’re always there when I need you, thank you.
To the wonderful team at Hudson Indie Ink, you guys
rock, thank you for having my back.
 Finally to all the fabulous people who’ve read this story,
I hope you enjoyed it and I have lots of other OTT JP heroes
to read if you want more.

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 ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gemma Weir is a half crazed stay at home mom to three kids, one man child
and a hell hound. She has lived in the midlands, in the UK her whole life and
has wanted to write a book since she was a child. Gemma has a ridiculously
dirty mind and loves her book boyfriends to be big, tattooed alpha males. She's
a reader first and foremost and she loves her romance to come with a happy
ending and lots of sexy sex.
For updates on future releases check out my social media links.

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 ALSO BY GEMMA WEIR

Montana Mountain Men

Property of the Mountain Man

Owned by the Mountain Man

The Archers Creek Series

Echo (Archer’s Creek #1)

Daisy (Archer’s Creek #2)
Blade (Archer’s Creek #3)
Echo & Liv (Archer’s Creek #3.5)
Park (Archer’s Creek #4)
Smoke (Archer’s Creek #5)

Archers Creek - The Next Generation

Hidden (The Scions #1)

Found (The Scions #2)
Wings & Roots (The Scions #3)

The Kings & Queens of St Augustus Series

The Spare - Part One

(The Kings & Queens of St Augustus #1)
The Spare - Part Two
(The Kings & Queens of St Augustus #2)

Alphaholes

Obsession
(Alphaholes #1)
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OTHER AUTHORS AT HUDSON INDIE INK

Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy

Stephanie Hudson
Sloane Murphy
Xen Randell
C. L. Monaghan

Sci-fi/Fantasy
Devin Hanson

Crime/Action
Blake Hudson
Mike Gomes

Contemporary Romance
Gemma Weir

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