Bad, Bad Bluebloods (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #2)(90)

There are flames dancing across the water.

How that happened, I have no idea. One minute, we were struggling on Harper’s boat, and the next, the lantern was being knocked over and kerosene was spilling everywhere. How it got on the actual surface of the lake, I don’t know.

My heart pounds as I clutch my hands to my chest like they’re precious gems. I almost lost my ability to make music with the harp … forever. That, and they … I can’t think about the almost rape. Not right now. The Idol girls crossed a line not once, not twice, but now three times. The boys are right: they really do want to kill me. The Infinity Club might very well be the death of me for real.

Tristan’s jaw is clenched tight, his hands white knuckled and curled into fists. He looks at Harper with a glare that would scare the shit out of me if I were on the other end. She seems unfazed as she turns her blue gaze on me, pausing briefly to make sure she’s still got a sizable entourage before she comes at me again.

“Whatever you’re thinking about doing right now,” Tristan says, his voice as smooth as pure cognac, “don’t.” He snaps that word off the end of his tongue, anger palpable in the chiseled lines of his handsome face. They saved me, I think, glancing from Tristan to Zayd’s bloody lip to Creed with his arm around Miranda. Poor Zack is still stuck on the opposite side of the boat, behind a wall of enemy Bluebloods.

“If you do this,” Harper begins, moving forward with her short brown hair—courtesy of Windsor York—billowing in the wind. Don’t dish it if you can’t take it. Moving back a step, I end up bumping into Zayd. One of his arms goes around me, and I’m suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. It’s like with every breath, I waffle between being excited and being terrified. Please don’t touch me; touch me more; get away from me; kiss me until I see stars. “Then you’re giving up control of the school. You’re Plebs, all of you.”

Abigail Fanning and Valentina Pitt flank Harper as she moves toward us, the chair with the ropes still attached sitting between their group and ours. When I glance past Harper toward Zack, I can see that he’s bleeding from his fight.

“If you think we’ll fold that easy,” Creed drawls, glancing at me and making my entire body light up with feeling. He’s quivering, too, but he tries to keep it hidden as he tosses some of his angelic hair back from his face. Would this be an inappropriate moment to think about the hot tub? Yeah, probably. “Then you clearly haven’t been paying attention. We’ll destroy you.”

Harper’s mouth is as sharp as a blade, and her eyes glimmer with rage and hate. She does not like losing—especially not to someone like me. To her credit, she’s managed to pull in most of the Bluebloods to her side. The rest, we won’t know about until we get to shore. What she does have is a trio of boys—Greg, John, and Ben—who will likely become her side’s version of the Idols.

“So you’ll break up the greatest collection of Bluebloods in the history of Burberry Prep for some commoner? We’re the future rulers of the world. People live and die based on the decisions our families make. Tristan, I’m your fiancée.” Harper starts to move forward, and then pauses as the ladder creaks, announcing the newest attendee to our little soiree.

Windsor York, my secret weapon and amazing new friend, appears with a smirk.

“Well, bloody hell.” He hauls himself over the edge and then stands up before brushing his palms down the front of his uniform. His hazel eyes take in the scene in one, fell swoop. “Looks like I’m a bit late to the party.”

Without hesitation, he moves over to stand in front of Zayd and offers me his hand. It’s impressive how the flames from the burning boat turn his red hair, crimson. Zayd pulls me back when I reach out for Windsor, and the prince cocks an eyebrow before sighing.

“Yeah, way late, asshole.” Zayd is pissed, but not at me and not even at Windsor, but at the whole situation. Even though I appreciate the sentiment, I elbow myself from his grip and take up a strong stance of my own. Even though my friends are here, and I appreciate them, I can’t fully trust anyone but myself. “If we hadn’t gotten here when we did …” Zayd’s voice trails off, but he has to know that Windsor is most definitely on our side. He was just helping in other ways. That much I do know.

The prince gives Harper and friends a skeptical look.

“I disabled the motor on your friends’ boat. I don’t imagine they’ll be showing up tonight.” Harper turns almost the same red shade as Windsor’s hair. She’s furious. “And I’m not late.” He gives a dramatic eye roll and a wink, that I’d return if I wasn’t so shaken up. “I saw Zack on his way up here, with these idiots trailing behind.” He gestures at the Idol boys, and Tristan snarls at him. “My time was better spent elsewhere. Oh.” As if it’s just occurred to him, Windsor snaps his fingers and lifts up the front of his shirt.

There’s a tattoo there, an infinity tattoo.

The entire boat falls silent.

“I’ve been resisting the Club for a long, long time, but Marnye needs someone on the inside to watch her back, so … here I am!” Windsor lifts his arms for emphasis, ever the showman. “Oh, and I’m an awful, dirty fucking wanker. I don’t have a trust fund, or parents breathing down my neck that control my purse strings: I have nine billion in personal assets to play with.” Windsor pauses, resting his head in his hand. “Well, twelve billion in US dollars, I suppose.”