Ruthless Kings - Laura Lee Page 0,39
me. The question is, who, and why? Despite my earlier bluster, I’m really freaked out by the whole thing. I spent the rest of the afternoon lying on a lounger by the pool and the evening watching a movie in the game room. Thankfully, this house is so huge, I didn’t run into anyone other than Ms. Williams when she asked if I’d like some dinner. I didn’t return to my bedroom until I absolutely had to, and when I climbed into bed, sleep didn’t come easily.
“Did everything go okay with the doctor, Miss Jasmine?” Frank opens the car door for me, his giant biceps straining against his sleeves.
Geez, the man is a beast. He's typically dressed in a button-up dress shirt, so I've never really seen his muscles on display, but today, he's wearing a black polo. Frank's probably in his mid-thirties, but he's a good-looking guy, and he's super sweet. I suck in a breath when it hits me how much my mom would’ve liked him. Hell, I would’ve encouraged her to ask him out if I somehow knew him when she was still alive.
Frank quirks an eyebrow. “Miss Jasmine? Are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, totally fine.” I wave my imaginary pom-poms, trying to shake off my gloomy thoughts. “The appointment went well. I got the green light to return to school tomorrow. Yay me!”
Frank laughs before closing the door and sliding into the front seat. “I’m happy to hear that.”
Truthfully, as much as that stuffy academy bothers me, it’s another reason to avoid my bedroom, so I’m looking forward to returning. Plus, homeschooling blows. Like, seriously blows. I consider myself fairly intelligent—my 4.0 GPA supports that—but statistics are not my strong suit, and I'd definitely benefit from classroom instruction. I can only hope now that I have Ainsley and Windsor's supposed kings in my corner, the other students will stop harassing me.
“JASMINE, IT’S NICE to see you looking so well.”
I finish descending the stairs and take a deep breath. This is the first time I've seen the sperm donor since before homecoming. Kingston told me Charles stopped by the hospital the night I was admitted, but then he left town. I had a hard enough time biting my tongue around this man before. Now that I know he's quite possibly selling human beings for profit, it's going to be even more difficult.
“Thanks.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, reminding myself to focus and keep my words to a minimum.
“Jasmine, you look lovely, dear.” Madeline, my stepmonster, leans forward and air kisses both sides of my cheeks before taking her place beside my father, looping her arm through his. “I see you’re wearing your Windsor uniform. Shall I assume you’re returning to school today?”
Normal parents wouldn’t have to ask that question. Then again, normal parents also wouldn’t leave the country for a three-week vacation after their daughter was violently attacked and left for dead.
I lift my eyebrows. “I’d wear this any day of the week; it’s so fashionable! The fact that I’m returning to school is merely a coincidence.”
Madeline pretends not to pick up on my sarcasm, but her pursed lips tell me otherwise. “Well, I’m glad to hear things are going well with your recovery. You look beautiful as always.”
My eyes travel from her perfectly styled bleached blonde hair down to the pearly pink nail polish on her toes. “And you look especially tan.”
Madeline preens as if that was a compliment. It wasn’t—the woman is practically orange. I’m pretty sure she has a spray tan on top of a regular one. “Thank you. Your father and I had a wonderful time in Cabo.” She turns her head and smiles up at him. “Didn’t we, dear?”
Charles looks at his wife as if she were a fly crawling over a pile of shit. “We always do.”
I hitch my thumb over my shoulder toward the front door. "Well, uh, I should get going. Kingston should be here any minute to pick me up."
Madeline’s features pinch together before the Stepford mask falls back in place. “You’re still seeing the Davenport boy?”
“I’m not sure seeing him is the right word, but we’re hanging out.” Sort of.
She smooths imaginary wrinkles out of her white sheath dress. “I see.”
I think she was about to say something else, but Charles puts his hand up to stop her. “Enough, Madeline. Let the girl get to school. Now that she’s feeling better, we can put this whole thing behind us and move on.”
Uh...no, we can’t,