Page 3 of Hell House
Obviously, I was no prince.
I wash my hands off for a final time and tread through the house, careful not to step on the strewn bodies that liter the floor. I’m intent on finding some coffee and aspirin for the splitting headache that was starting to burrow beneath my skull. Garrison has already beaten me to the kitchen and is currently sitting in the school uniform, perfectly pressed and alert, sipping on his tea.
“How are you this awake after last night, Gare?”
He pauses the tea that he was about to take a sip of, “What the hell happened to that pretty face of yours Pierce?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I glare at the coffee machine. Why were there so many buttons? I haphazardly stick the coffee in and press one of the buttons. The machine makes an angry whirring noise and then turns off. I smack it and try turning it back on and off again.
“You need some help, brother?” Garrison asks, an amused expression crosses his face. He runs a hand over his neatly trimmed goatee.
“I got it.” I was the top of my class and captain of the football team, I could figure out some piece of junk coffee machine. Garrison just smirks at me and continues to sip at his tea as he scrolls on his phone.
“Tell me someone has made coffee.” Emmet’s voice calls out, his southern accent comes in thick as he stumbles through the back door. He scans the counter, his gaze landing on me punching the coffee machine’s buttons.
“Where were you?” Garrison asks, taking in Emmet’s disheveled appearance. Was that grass stuck in his black curly hair?
“I passed out on the lawn.” He says with a yawn as he scratches his stomach. I let out a chuckle, then push another button on this Godforsaken machine. Last night’s party was even more epic than the two years prior. It’s a shame my brother Lukas had been in such a melancholy mood, he really missed out. He kept retreating to his room or went off to sulk with the house recluse, Walker. I don’t know why he enjoyed that guy’s company so much. He was one scary mother fucker.
Finally, whatever combination of buttons I’d just punched in gets the coffee sputtering out in a thick black rope of caffeine. I chug the hot liquid, black and bitter and slap my face with my two hands- a habit I’d picked up during football to get my head in the game. I had a meeting with the headmaster at 11:15, and he’d chew my ass if I was late. I ran upstairs leaving my fraternity brothers in the kitchen and suited up. Our school uniforms were black, white, and gold, with the school insignia located over the left breast pocket. A large KA, in white lettering, complete with a golden shield surrounding it. The girls were required to wear black and white plaid skirts with black tights or black knee-high socks. I secretly preferred the socks. Fuck tights. Those things restricted easy access when you wanted a quick fuck in the bathrooms.
I check my Rolex and note I’m ten minutes early. I straighten my tie as my dress shoes smack against the black and white checkered tiles in the main office building that houses all the faculty’s offices and conference rooms. The tiles remind me of a high stakes chess game about to be played. I pad up the giant staircase, my legs protesting with each stair I ascend. I partied way too fucking hard last night. I turn the corner to where the headmaster’s office is located and am met with the sight of a girl who’s jogging down the corridor, wearing fishnet stockings- fuck me, she was hot as sin. Not the typical girl I would go for at all, but something in the way she moves and looks has my cock stirring to attention. As she gets closer, my eyes take in her curves and blood red pouty lips, her black hair that’s done up in two high pigtails. I stand straighter, the Pride in my chest beginning to rear its head in demand. I want her to look at me, but she keeps her eyes down, until we’re about to pass each other. What I would do to play with those pigtails and a vision of her kneeling before me as I yank her pigtails while she sucks me off fills my mind. Pride, grabs at my throat and my hands start to sweat. She’s so close to me, my heartbeat hammers in my chest. All of a sudden, I find myself knocking into her, my body acting before my mind can even catch up. This Pride inside me demands that she look at me- appreciate me. She stumbles over her converse, and I grab her arm to steady her.
“I’m sorry.” I say giving her my most charming smile and run my fingers through my dirty blonde hair. She looks up at me with pure annoyance coating her deep brown eyes. Fuck, it’s like she could see straight into my soul, and I feel Pride writhe beneath my skin. I let go of her arm but don’t back away.
“Fucking asshole.” She murmurs.
I see red. “What did you just say?” My chest trips over itself in anger. No one ever talks to me that way.
She turns to face me, hands on her hips. She licks her lips, and my eyes track the movement. “Fucking ass-hole.” She says this time more slowly, annunciating each letter. Before I know what I’m doing, I find myself grabbing for her, and pressing her up against the wall. Our chests mere centimeters away from each other. I have her arms pinned above her body. She blows a bubble with her gum, sage green eyes staring at me with defiance. I fight the urge to pop the bubble with my teeth.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. What did you just say to me?” Her gum pops loudly in my face and she flicks her dark eyelashes down my body in annoyance. She takes a breath and I feel my body moving to close the space between us. I move my head a fraction of an inch forward and her eyes widen, and she sucks in a breath- fucking yes, she wants this. My cock thickens in my pants, and I’m so lost in my excitement that I don’t see her knee raise up before she kicks me square in the balls.
I yelp, hunching over and grabbing at my privates. I felt that zing of pain all the way to my bones... Fucking hell, that hurt like a bitch.
As I’m hunched over,
I glance over at her in disbelief only to find that pouty mouth quirked up in a smirk.
“Don’t ever touch me again asshole, or next time I’ll use this.” She shows me a black studded purse before she saunters away, hips swaying. Those fishnet tights clinging to her alabaster legs.
My chest rages with the insult. Fucking nobody ever talked to me that way. I was Pierce Ledger, and I’d make her remember my fucking name. I’d have her screaming it and worshiping it before I was through.
“You wanted to see me?” I ask as I slink into the headmaster’s office. My balls still feel like they’re on fire and the aspirin I took doesn’t seem to be touching my hangover. I was in a foul mood and ready to get this meeting over with so I could get some fucking sleep and ice my nut sack.
“Ah, Pierce, yes thank you for- what’s that on your face?” Fuck- the condom imprint was still imbedded on my cheek.
“Oh, uh- nothing. Just fell asleep on something.” His wrinkled face pulls down into a deeper scowl, which should be impossible because his face seems permanently etched in disapproval. His jowls pull his mouth down like he was the unhappy tragic Melpomene from the famous Sock and Buskin theater masks. He’d been headmaster at the school for years and had a reputation of being ruthless. Knowing him like I do now, those rumors aren’t unfounded.
“Please, sit.” I try not to grimace as I sit in the world’s most uncomfortable chair and I feel a pang from the injury I’d just sustained. I hate this room. My thoughts slide to the girl in the hallway, how she’s spun my head. How she was so unlike anyone I’d been attracted to and yet here I was having this visceral of a reaction to her and fuck me what an impression I had made on her. Condom wrapper imprint and acted like a total insane asshole, real nice Pierce. I get lost in my spiraling thoughts my headache pushing from behind my eyeballs that I miss what the headmaster just said. I try to play it off like I heard the whole thing and nod my head.
“New year, same rules, do you think you and your fraternity brothers can handle that?” I fight rolling my eyes.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, listen about that special job I mentioned…”
My head snaps to attention. Special job? I must have been lost in my thoughts. I sit up straighter. Headmaster Hayden knocks his gnarled knuckles on the mahogany desk.
