Dirty Wicked Prince (Court Legacy Book 1)

Sloane

I didn’t get another invite out to lunch with Legacy. This wasn’t surprising, but what had followed that impromptu lunch date was.

I got free food.

Every day at lunch, Thatcher would drop off a sack. Sometimes it’d be from Jax’s Burgers. Other times not, but he always made sure to drop something off. Sometimes the drop-offs even included his company, and when it did, Wells tended to join him. The two seemed to move as a unit like Ares and Dorian, and suddenly, I found myself with free food every day at lunch. I never asked for this food, nor did I want it.

I got it anyway.

It seemed Thatcher felt he had a debt to pay, and it extended well past that first lunch. On days he either couldn’t make it or didn’t make it, Wells entertained me with his company. He’d give me the same food, mentioning Thatcher had a previous engagement. Wells always made sure to wink at me when he said that, and I assumed Thatcher was probably off getting some afternoon delight somewhere. Thatcher was known as a huge ladies’ man around the school. Wells too, and I found out he was bisexual. I’d assumed as much. Thatcher never brought his dates to our lunch, but Wells always did. Sometimes he’d have two or three of his groupies, his followers feeding him food while I rolled my eyes from the other side of the table. The days Wells did appear were the most awkward, but not because of who he brought. Bow too had returned to eating lunch with me, and whenever just Wells and his groupies arrived, it put her off. She’d clam up and get all silent, which was the exact opposite of the little rabbit.

I asked her once what the deal was, but she got all shy about it and passed it off. Her cheeks grew incredibly warm, though, and considering Wells typically had his tongue shoved down the throat of one of his minions, I understood why. I forgot sometimes she was just a sophomore, and after I did see he was bothering her, I asked him to tone down some of the PDA.

“Sure thing, Pretty, Pretty Princess,” Wells said to me, something both him and Thatcher had started to call me. I’d take it over Vapor and Legacy bitch any day. Hell, I’d take my name back.

That came the following week.

The Legacy effect was something else. People definitely took note of Thatcher Reed’s and Wells Ambrose’s sudden attention. They made known their gifts of food and attention, and with that came people actually looking me in the face again. I got greetings from people I hadn’t seen the eyes of in weeks.

And teachers actually called on me again.

That last bit I could have done without. I mean, I wasn’t a brain like my brother. I wasn’t always prepared to answer questions in class, but it was nice that I existed again. The little “gifts” in the form of pranks deposited inside my locker also stopped, and I found my little brother without his attitude in the mornings. He was smiling at me again. He was acknowledging me, and though I definitely thought he’d been an asshole to me in the time we’d been here, I did know my place in our feud. I promised I’d make things easier for us, and I definitely hadn’t done that by starting a war with the boss dog clique. I’d gotten myself in a mess and him by association, and I completely acknowledged that. I also hadn’t told him a lot of things that had been done to me.

Again, something I acknowledged.

Those dark days seemed to be long in the past as the days continued on. The leaves on the trees started to shift and change, the breeze sharper as Maywood Heights hinted at a change in the seasons. We were still well away from winter. Thank God. Chicago didn’t play when it came to Midwestern winters, but I did have to wear a jacket sometimes with my academy uniform. I also stopped wearing knee-highs and shifted to trousers. Girls were allowed to wear them when the colder weather hit.

I was grateful the day I fell.

I tripped on a floorboard literally in the middle of the hall. Had I been wearing a skirt, my lady bits would have been all over the place. My feet left from under me and everything, and I might have hit the floor if not for a set of strong hands.

And a solid chest.

Dark brown irises came with it, those big arms and firm hands bracing me close. The dark prince had caught me like a football on the field, quick and agile.

Damn-near unmovable.

No shake rattled his meaty arms in his embrace. This boy was unshakable. Dorian wet his lips as he brought me to my feet. He and his bastard friend Ares were two members of Legacy I actually hadn’t seen lately. The gifts of food and attention stopped at Thatcher and Wells.

Dorian and Ares had been noticeably absent.

They may have let the younger of their ranks indulge in my company, but they sure as fuck weren’t doing the same. This was something I’d definitely noticed too, which annoyed the ever-loving fuck out of me. Of course, I wanted nothing to do with Ares “Wolf” Mallick. I mean, the guy hated me as much as I did him. I wanted nothing to do with Dorian either, but for some reason, I always made note when the two Legacy juniors showed up and Dorian didn’t.

This was something I simply stopped questioning, accepting it. I cataloged it as I noted all the different shades of brown in his eyes while he held me now. The hallway’s fluorescent lights seemed to make them appear more hazel instead of the dark brown. They hinted at a lightness inside him, but I knew this to be a lie. There was no light inside this boy.

He stabilized me.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbled, point proven. His jaw tightened. “This floorboard sticks, always has.”

I noted his warning, and I almost told him I knew about it. Though, I didn’t. I mean, I never tripped on this floorboard but suddenly I felt like I should have known that. Like there’d been a space in my memory reserved for that very thought.

Shaking that off, I nodded at Dorian. He passed nothing more than a hard glance my way before he stalked down the hallway like a Neanderthal. He filled up so much of the hall it was crazy, and the students around him parted like the Red Sea for him to pass. They all filled in after that, everyone always shifting in his wake, and I shook my head.

Dick.

He still was, and I glanced down, seeing a sharp piece of metal on the locker. Had I actually fallen (had he not caught me), I would have hit that, punctured myself or even worse.

I played with my sleeve, rubbing beneath my forearm. The ghost of a feeling caused me to turn my arm around, and I unbuttoned my sleeve.

A faded scar faced me on my skin. It was something I’d always had. In fact, I’d had it so long I didn’t even remember when I got it. The weird thing was, had I fallen into the metal shard on the locker, I would have hit that same place where my scar was located.

I guess I should thank the dark prince.

He probably saved me some more damage to my skin.

I buttoned my sleeve. I was already late for my next class but stopped when I noticed a glint of something between the lockers. It was something metal, small, and I didn’t even know how I spotted it.

I placed my books down, getting on all fours. I had long arms, so I was able to touch the back of the wall pretty easy. I couldn’t see for shit, though.

I pressed my face to the dirty floor, well aware of how stupid I looked but whatever that was beneath the lockers was within reach. I just had to get it.

“What the fuck are you doing, little?”

My jacket ripped.

Like literally, I ripped my sleeve at the hem, the voice surprising me. The lockers caught on my sleeve, and when I slid my arm from underneath them, I made the tear worse.

“Nice,” I grumbled, forgetting about whatever was under the locker when I analyzed my jacket. I shook my head at the hole. “Really nice.”

“Well, what were you fucking doing?” Ares cast a dark look down on me, a wash of dark curls shrouding his face. His hair was more feathered some days, and odds were, he normally put something in it to tame his curls. Today, they were on full display. His big shoulders popped up. “Tell me it hasn’t gotten to the point where you’re rooting around for trash to get by? You see some food down there, yeah?”

This guy’s asshole energy was off the charts. I flipped him off, and he chuckled, backing off so I could get up. I noticed he didn’t offer to help. I brushed myself off. “No, I thought I found something.”

“What kind of something?” He angled a look down. “Something where?”

It was probably nothing. I shrugged. “Just something. Doesn’t matter.”

It probably was nothing, and I managed to look like an idiot in front of the guy who’d bullied me from day one, the one who’d started this whole thing.

Well, technically you did when you parked in his spot.

I didn’t care what I’d done. It gave him no right to treat me the way he had, nor to continue talking to me like I was his personal piece of shit.

He was still staring at the floor and the area I’d been searching but stopped when I started to pass him. He put a hand out. “Wait. I want to talk to you.” He directed a finger. “And it’s Sloane, right? I heard that’s what people are calling you.”

Wow, he had a couple of brain cells up there.

Though I wondered why he actually bothered to learn something about me. I lounged back against the lockers. “What do you want? Or is my breathing bothering you now?”

I’d done less before.

He smirked at me. A couple of thirsty bitches passed him in the hallway, and he merely whipped those curls in their direction to get a giggle and red cheeks. This guy was just as full of himself as the rest of them, but I didn’t have time for it. I started to go again, but he cut me off with that long wingspan.

I frowned. “Let me by.”

“If her highness would come down from her ice castle for all of a second, I might be able to tell her I’m offering an olive branch,” he said, and my eyes twitched wide. He nodded. “This shit between us I’m over. I’m sure you’re over it too.” His eyes narrowed. “I figured we should squash it before we killed each other in the end.”

He hadn’t cared about that before, until this moment anyway.

He scrubbed into his hair. “Believe me or not. I don’t care. But here I am, and I can say I tried.”

He started to walk away now, but I cut him off this time.

He shook his head. “My time’s better spent on the field or in my art. I don’t have time for anymore sophomoric shit, despite what you may believe.” He eyed me up and down. “I also know this tense shit has become a thing between us guys. Thatcher and Wells are obviously taking up with you, and I too have to acknowledge you did Bow a solid. That girl’s like my little sis, and I’m tired of whatever this shit is between us making D look at me funny.”

Dorian was looking at him funny? I wondered why.

And he said he did art? I jerked my chin in his direction. “What kind of art?”

“What?”

I laughed. “What kind of art do you do? Painting? Sculpting?”

He studied me. “Sketch work. Specifically, I like to design.”

“Design what?”

“Stuff.”

Well, sorry. Jesus. I smirked. “I never would have taken you for an artist.”

“Well, you don’t know me. Do you?” He angled a look at me. He put a hand out. “So, are we going to squash this shit or what? I don’t want to hear it from my boys anymore.”

Honestly, I didn’t care about him or the situation with “his boys,” but I did care that, with our war, a line against the Legacy was still drawn.

That alone had me giving him my hand. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he said, a more than tense truce. But at least it was one. He let go. “I’ll see you around then. Maybe at my party tonight.”

“Party?”

He nodded. “I do them sometimes.” He eyed me. “Give me your number. I’ll text you the deets.”

I let him because I honestly was having an out-of-body experience here. No way was my luck suddenly changing like this, where Ares was acknowledging me and actually inviting me to his party. I didn’t care about this shit, but I was shocked he’d come forward.

After I gave him my number, he shot me a text. “There you go. See you tonight.”

Nodding, I backed away from the conversation, leaving him there.

“It’s a lingerie party, by the way,” he said behind me. He dashed up his thick eyebrows. “If you dare to show up now, that is.”

And he just couldn’t help himself, more than a dare in his voice. He probably thought I wouldn’t show up now. I hugged my books. “That’s if you dare to show up.”

He tugged up his dress shirt, displaying his washboard abs. “I ain’t got nothing to hide, little. You be there, I’ll be there.”

I rolled my eyes, hearing him chuckle as I walked away. God, he was such an arrogant fuck. I really couldn’t stand that dude.

But what could I say? I couldn’t help a good challenge.