The Help (Kings of Linwood Academy, #1)(29)

“It’s crazy to think, isn’t it?” I mumble around a mouthful of mint chocolate chip, only half-watching the screen. “I bet million dollar deals got done tonight. On the surface, it’s a party, but underneath all that, there’s real shit getting negotiated, people schmoozing and worming their way into the right circles.”

Mom lets out a burst of laughter, rolling onto her back on the couch and poking me in the ribs with her foot. “Good lord, Low. They’re rich people, not the mafia.”

“Same thing at some level, right?” I argue.

Her eyes narrow. “Have you been watching too much Dynasty?”

I tickle her foot to get back at her. “No. I don’t have time. I’m just saying, I’m positive some under the table deals went down tonight. It’s just weird to think about.”

“My daughter, the conspiracy theorist.” Mom grins at me fondly before turning her attention back to the screen.

When the episode ends thirty minutes later, she’s snoring softly. I turn off the TV, put a blanket over her, and pad softly back to my room.





Mom refuses to let me do much work around the house for the next few days. She insists I need the time to catch up on homework, and she’s not totally wrong. The course load at Linwood Academy is intense, and the weekend was almost entirely taken up by party prep and party cleanup.

Besides, she’ll be going out of town with Mr. and Mrs. Black for five days starting on Wednesday. They apparently have a second home in upstate New York. Samuel is headed there to take care of some business, and he asked Mom to go with him to manage the house while he’s there. I was a little shocked Audrey wanted to go too, given how little interest she usually shows in anything her husband does.

But then again, maybe that look they shared at the cocktail party wasn’t an act. Maybe they are, in their own extremely weird way, madly in love.

Either way, they’re all going to be gone for a few days, so that’ll leave me with more cleaning duties than usual around here. I promise Mom I can handle it, since I can tell she’s freaking out a little bit about the prospect of leaving me. It’s amazing she didn’t turn into a total helicopter mom, given everything she’s seen me go through, but it’s times like these that make me realize how much she still worries about me.

They leave on Wednesday morning while Lincoln and I are at school, and even though the house is always quiet, I can somehow tell it’s empty when I get back in the late afternoon. I do my cleaning duties and then spend most of the night in my room talking Hunter down from a major fight she had with Kevin. I think they’re inching toward a break-up, but I don’t push her in that direction, giving her time to get there on her own.

Thursday is about the same—at least, until nine p.m., when the house suddenly explodes with noise.

Loud music blares from downstairs, and I can hear the growing sound of raised voices even from where I’m holed up in my bedroom.

Oh. Right. The couple of house parties I’ve been to since I got here have been at mansions where the parents were either traveling or absent. Guess with his folks in New York, it’s Lincoln’s turn to host.

I wish he’d fucking told me though. What, did he think I was going to rat him out?

And he didn’t bother to invite me either, even though I’ve been to other parties with Linwood students, and I’m already in the fucking house.

What a dick.

The pulsing thump of music carries upstairs for the next couple hours, and I try to ignore it, changing into my shorts and tank and lying on my bed to read. But there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep through this shit.

Finally, at just after midnight, my annoyance is at a boiling point. I storm out of the bedroom, not quite sure what my plan is, but unable to stand another minute of staring at the wall with a pillow over my head.

I head down the darkened hallway toward the west wing stairs, but before I reach them, something catches my eye. In the spare room that sandwiches the laundry room on the other side of mine, figures are moving on the bed. The lights are off in there too, so I can’t see much, but I can tell there are people inside.

Is Mr. Black back already? This is the same room I heard him in the first time I snuck out to play poker. But that makes no sense.

Unable to stop myself, I creep closer, peering around the doorframe where the door hangs open several inches.

Oh my God.

It’s Dax and Chase, with a girl between them.

My heart picks up, slamming hard against my chest. I shouldn’t be seeing this. I should back away and pretend I never did see it.

But I can’t stop watching.

They’re both shirtless, and their defined muscles are cast in harsh shadows in the dim light. Their hands move in sync, as if they share a brain or something, as they work the girl up between them. She’s wearing a dress, and Dax has his hand between her legs. Chase is behind her, and his fingers delve under the scoop of her neckline to fondle her boobs.

I don’t know who the girl is—not someone from Linwood, I don’t think—but she looks like she’s in fucking heaven.

My body flushes from head to toe, and I’ve stopped breathing entirely because I don’t think I can draw in air without gasping right now.

Why is that so… hot?

Why do I sort of wish it was me in her place?