The voice that blasts from the doorway of The Kings’ practice room surprises me. Since I’ve known the Cross brothers, no one has ever dared to call them out.
Not in the hallways.
Not in the classrooms.
And definitely not in their own domain.
But Miss Jamieson doesn’t have an ounce of fear.
The moment Zane opens the door, she explodes past him and storms right into the room. Chest heaving, she careens to a stop in front of Sol.
Dutch stiffens beside me, his eyes narrowing as if he’s bracing himself for action. Finn’s watching it with a bored, almost detached look. Sol looks slightly amused by it all.
And Zane…
I stare at Dutch’s twin, a little alarmed by his expression. Zane has this intense, almost frightening gaze when he looks at Miss Jamieson. I don’t know how to describe it except that it’s dark and… greedy.
Why is he looking at a teacher like he owns her?
Miss Jamieson’s angry brown eyes skip over everyone and land on Sol.
She takes in a ragged breath. “You.”
Sol lifts his chin, unintimidated.
What’s going on?
The room feels too charged for this to be a simple matter of a teacher scolding us about skipping class.
And that scolding would be fully deserved.
I admit, since I embraced the privilege that comes with living in Dutch’s shadow, I haven’t been concerned with my grades or my attendance. The world suddenly felt much bigger than the halls of Redwood Prep.
But just because I felt that way doesn’t make it reality.
The truth is that I am still in high school.
I am still a scholarship student.
And I shouldn’t be here, so close to Dutch I’m practically sitting on his lap, when school is going on.
I edge away from him, but it doesn’t matter. Miss Jamieson doesn’t even notice me.
“I promised myself I wouldn’t mess with you boys.” She stomps forward and her tight brown curls bounce against her back. “I was going to leave you out of my fight, but now you’re starting to piss me off.”
“What are you talking about?” Zane says, folding his arms over his chest. “What fight?”
She whips around and spears him with a heated gaze. “Did you all plot to set the school on fire and have Serena expelled? Why? What did she do to you? What is your obsession with hunting down scholarship girls and ruining them?”
The boys don’t even bat an eye, so my surprised gasp echoes loudly in the room.
It drags Miss Jamieson’s gaze to me.
She blinks in shock. “Cadence.”
“Uh… hi.”
“What are you doing in here?” A crease forms over her forehead. She stiffens, her toned arms flexing and I can tell that her first thought is that I’m in harm. Then she sees how relaxed I am and her eyes flicker with confusion. “Are you… with them?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I swing my gaze up to the annoying leader of The Kings.
“She’s my fiancée,” Dutch says, draping a hand over my shoulder.
My eyes bug.
Miss Jamieson has the same reaction.
“Dutch.” My voice cracks. I try to push his hand off.
“I thought you should know,” Dutch says calmly, flicking his gaze to my face and then back to our Lit teacher. “Since you’re family now.”
Miss Jamieson’s skin is the color of chocolate milk, but I still see her pale a shade. Her throat bobs and she visibly struggles to maintain her composure.
“This isn’t the time for jokes, Dutch. I want an explanation. And I want it now.”
“An explanation for what?” Zane approaches her.
“Why did you go after Serena Parker?”
Finn snorts.
Miss Jamieson’s eyes snap to him. Her full brown lips tighten. “You boys think this is funny?” Her nostrils flare. “I’ve kept my mouth shut. I’ve cowered. I’ve done everything this ridiculous school has told me to do, but I will not stand by while you ruin someone else’s shot at a better fut—ah!”
Miss Jamieson shrieks as Zane scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder. I watch her heels kick up and down. I watch her skirt ride up. I watch her pinch Zane and I see Zane smack her backside in retribution.
It feels like a slap to the face.
A brawny student like Zane.
A classy teacher like Miss Jamieson.
All the lines being blurred.
My heart jumps to my throat. It’s just… so wrong.
“Mr. Cross,” Miss Jamieson shrieks, “this is absolutely disrespectful. You are crossing a line here!”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Zane grumbles.
“Put me down at once!”
With a cocky nod at his brothers, Zane says, “I’ll explain things to her. In private.”
Dutch nods. “Have fun.”
Sol shakes his head and sighs.
Finn doesn’t stop playing his bass, but he does look up in acknowledgement. I can tell he approves despite his expression not changing much.
My heart rams against my ribs. Adrenaline quickens my pulse.
Are they letting Zane kidnap our teacher? Are they insane?
“Zane, stop.” I bounce to the edge of my seat. If they won’t do anything, I will.
Miss Jamieson helped me out so much at Redwood. After Mulliez got kicked out, she was my only ally. I can’t sit by while Zane carries her away like Tarzan with Jane.
I take a step forward.
But one step is all I get.
Before I can react, Dutch grabs me by the waist and drags me into his lap. I land with a thud, falling against his hard thigh.
“What are you doing? I need to help her.”
“No, you don’t.”
I squirm. “She’s our teacher.”
“She’s something else to him,” Dutch says cryptically. I lift my head to his darkened gaze.
I see that he’s serious, and that he’s not going to share more.
What the hell is going on between Zane and Miss Jamieson? And why did Dutch call her family?
Sol lazily climbs to his feet. I glance up. With us sitting down and him standing, he looks extremely tall. None of The Kings are under six feet but, for some reason, Sol feels like a giant.
He looks down at me, his face impossible to read. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“We are not engaged.”
“Thanks.” Dutch captures my hand and presses a kiss to my ring finger.
I grit my teeth.
Sol says nothing more, but if he keeps scowling like that, the expression is going to get permanent. His footsteps thump as he leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Finn says to his brother. He keeps plucking the bass strings. “So unless you want an audience, I suggest you keep your hands above your fiancée’s skirt.”
“Read the room, Finn,” Dutch mutters.
Finn smirks. I get the sense that he lets Dutch lead the group because he couldn’t be bothered. But he’s always waiting. Watching. Calm as a still river with a rushing current underneath.
Dutch flips Finn the bird.
Finn rolls his eyes.
Grabbing the opportunity, I slip out of Dutch’s arms while he’s distracted and dance back when he tries to swipe at me.
“I’m going to class.”
Dutch leans back, surveying me like a king on his throne. “I’ll pick you up after.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He quirks an eyebrow as if to say I dare.
And he does.
Dutch walks me to and from classes, sits with me at lunch and repels every living thing at Redwood Prep just by showing up.
After school, he drives me home and I’m stunned when I see Vi climbing out of an unfamiliar car at the same time.
Panic screams through me. Fingers yanking on the handles, I push the door open and throw it aside. My feet slam on the sidewalk.
I’m running, elbows pumping. Heart screaming. Lungs tightening.
The driver could be Jarod Cross, come to get his revenge after finding Jinx’s device.
It could be the killer.
Or even worse.
It could be a boy who wants to date my sister.
Vi sees me. She smiles brightly, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. Her wave is big and enthusiastic.
She’s okay.
But what if this is a warning? What if she’s only okay this time because the driver wants to intimidate me?
I peer into the car, shocked when I see…
“Martina?”
“Have a good evening, señorita. I’m off to my tango lesson.” Unleashing a broad smile, Dutch’s housekeeper waves and drives off.
I hear heavy footsteps behind me.
Dutch.
I whirl around. “What’s going on?”
He watches me, saying nothing.
“Martina said she’ll pick me up from now on. And look. She brought me this drink called horchata. It’s delicious. By the way, did you know Martina speaks the ancient language of the Mayas? Dutch, did you know she was part Mayan? She said she’d teach me traditional Mayan makeup for my channel.”
My jaw drops. “Why is Martina picking up my sister from school?”
Dutch’s eyes meet mine, amber pools surrounded by light. “From now on, I’m driving you and your sister home.”
Overprotective, controlling jerk.
My heart pounds. “Vi, can you give me a minute? I need to speak to Dutch.”
“Okay.” My sister beams. “Later, Dutch.”
He nods. “I haven’t forgotten my promise. Pick a date and I’ll arrange the amusement park passes for your friends.”
“Yes!” Vi pumps her fist. My little sister hurries away, dancing like she just got a million bucks.
I turn slowly, pinning Dutch with a blistering stare.
“If you’re going to yell at me, at least do it in air conditioning.” He turns sharply and stalks to his car.
My sneakers thump the ground as I stomp behind him. “You’re going overboard.”
“You expect me to do nothing after hearing that your mom might have witnessed a murder?” Dutch growls.
“She’s a liar. It might not have been that serious.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He sinks into the front seat and juts his chin at the passenger side. “Get in.”
I grab his door to keep him from locking it. Dutch’s eyes slick over my body. Heat prickles through my stomach as his gaze darkens.
The dynamic between us is different with me standing and Dutch looking up at me. I feel powerful and a little untouchable like this.
The crack of attraction thickens until it’s overtaking me.
“Back off, Dutch. I can take care of my family by myself. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone.”
If I say it loud enough and often enough, it doesn’t feel so much like a lie. It doesn’t feel like the thinly-composed armor that I’ve been wearing all my life. It feels real. More real than this… thing between us.
Dutch curves his fingers around my hips and my breath becomes uneven. He skims a rough hand down my side. His hands bear the scars of music. Years spent brutally sliding his fingers over nylon strings, wearing them down to hard beds.
“You don’t have to need me. You don’t even have to want me. But you’ve got me, Cadey. And since I’m here, you won’t ever have to struggle by yourself again. I won’t let you. I forbid it. ”
Broken notes haunt my mind.
Quiet. Steady. Trilling.
I whimper as his fingers slip behind my back and find the dip of my spine.
“You are more important to me than I am.”
My breath catches in my throat.
Dutch tugs me forward, pulling me into the car with him. His spicy cologne fills the air around me and I inhale, getting drugged.
His lips curve up sharply. Not a smile. No, not even close. A warning.
“How long are you going to fight me?” he whispers.
I blink unsteadily. “As long as it takes.”
Dutch’s hand grazes the side of my face, sliding a single fingertip down my throat. “How do you think I’d feel if something happened to you or Vi?”
“I told you. We’re fine.” My body loosens without my permission. It’s like I have no control around him. Like all my defenses have been so badly damaged by our past encounters that I can’t even begin to protect myself.
Dutch guides me up on my knees. He secures an inked arm around me, holding me steady as he rolls his chair all the way back. “Fine isn’t good enough. I want you safe.”
The chair makes a click sound, slamming to a stop. Dutch has it as far back as it can go, but there’s still not enough room. I’m squashed between his body and the steering wheel and the space gets even smaller when he closes the door.
“No one showed up yet.” I put a hand on his shoulder, my head falling back as his hands slip under my shirt.
The only bad guys I’ve encountered bear the last name Cross. But mom didn’t exactly drag them into my life. They came on their own.
“And they won’t get a chance to.” Dutch frowns as he rolls his hips. His eyes burn like hellfire. “If anyone hurts you, they won’t live long enough to regret it.”
“Dutch.” It’s supposed to be a scolding, but it sounds more like a groan. I can’t help it. His hands are skating over my aching skin, branding me like pure fire.
My heart is beating so loudly that I can’t even hear the music in my head. My pulse drowns it out too.
It’s all percussions.
All ancient, animalistic war drums.
While I’m unraveling, Dutch is in complete control. I can feel his confidence when he moves my body over his lap, scrubbing me against his jeans.
“You’re lucky it’s just Martina. I considered hiring a security team.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t you—”
His tongue plunges into my mouth chasing away the rest of my words. A gasp tears out of me and I find myself clinging to his hair, grappling for some sense of control in the rapidly chaotic kiss.
Dutch pushes me back. His voice is a low and tortured sound. “Off.”
He’s pure beast. Pure caveman. No time for cohesive sentences even as he instructs me to undress.
“What are you doing?” I pant. “We’re right in front of my apartment.”
He rolls my tights down my legs and I arch my back as he growls, “The windows are tinted.”
It’s a good point and he makes an even better one when his hands descend on me. Fondling. Caressing. Guiding. I erupt into a flame of heat and need, wrapping myself around him as we exchange what little oxygen is left in the car.
Suddenly, I hear a knock on the window.
Both our heads launch up.
My hair is in my face and my eyes are dazed. Plus the windows are so fogged up that I can’t see anything.
And then the fog clears.
I meet a pair of familiar brown eyes.
“Oh my gosh!” I screech.
The thick, pulsing desire in my body wipes out in an instant. Shame and embarrassment floods me next. I try to climb out of Dutch’s lap, but we’re pressed so tightly together that I almost knee him in the jaw.
My elbow hits the steering wheel. The car horn blows loudly, announcing to everyone that we’ve been caught—both literally and figuratively—with our pants down.
Can someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery already?
“Who is it?” Dutch asks, his voice laced with a threat as he zips up. “How do you know this guy?”
I button my shirt in a panic and pull my skirt back on with shaky hands. “He’s my brother.”
Jinx: Royal Brothers Get Lonely Too
This royal family sure do love to pick the hardest, most thorny roads to love. But when a Snare King can have any woman he wants in his bed, it makes sense that he would choose the woman he can’t have.
You want names, but I don’t kiss and tell. Not without evidence. Whispers are all I have for now.
Pics of the Snare King capturing his prey for dinner or it didn’t happen.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx
