In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,116

of my body, watching this whole scenario take place in a different dimension. “Then get the hell out! Ileana and I will take care of it.”

Becky races out of the shed with tears streaming down her face, but she doesn’t try to stop them.

Instead, I watch in horror as Harper hands the gun to Ileana and then picks up a red gasoline tank. She starts pouring it in a circle around me, and then leaves a trail that peters out near the door. I’m surprised she doesn’t splash me in it, but then I realize she probably wants to see me suffer as much as possible first.

Harper du Pont is most definitely a psychopath.

No doubt about that.

“Do you have the matches?” she asks, holding out her hand toward Ileana.

I struggle against my bonds, panting with the effort.

“Harper, you don’t want to do this,” I tell her, but she ignores me, smiling as she strikes a match and the stink of sulfur fills the air. She blows it out with pretty lips and then backs away toward the door with Ileana tagging along behind her.

“Goodbye, Working Girl. It was nice knowing you.” Harper lights another match, and then Creed appears, grabbing her wrist and jerking her back so hard that the flame goes out.

Zack shows up next, sacking Ileana like she’s the wide receiver on an opposing football team. She goes flying, not, unfortunately into the pond, but she does end up slamming into that Jason guy as he comes around the corner. The two go down in a heap as John follows after, still bleeding, but carrying his baseball bat again. He swings it at Zack, but my football player boyfriend manages to grab hold of the weapon to keep it from making contact.

A car’s headlights sweep across the scene as it pauses just outside the ring of trees and Zayd and Wind hop out. Windsor’s behind the wheel which, if you think about it, is pretty surprising. Until … well, until today he was terrified of driving.

I guess that means … he was willing to overcome his fear to rescue me?

“Back the shit off my girlfriend,” Zayd says, his graduation gown long since discarded, his tattooed arms bright in the light from the car’s headlights.

“Get fucked,” Harper sneers, elbowing Creed in the face. She runs toward the shed, but he’s right behind her, knocking her into the gasoline while the two of them struggle over the matches.

Windsor and Zayd help Zack off the ground, and the three of them fend off the surge of Bluebloods as Creed finally throws Harper against the wall, pocketing the matches and running over to me. He pulls what looks like a kitchen knife from the bookbag hanging over his shoulder, and saws at the ropes.

“Seriously? You think you’re going to get out of here with this bitch?” Harper asks, pulling a lighter from her pocket. Creed ignores her, freeing me from my bindings and yanking me to my feet. He pulls me over to one of the broken windows as Harper lights the flame.

“You’ll burn, too!” Creed screams back at her, and then since he’s covered in gas, I shove him out the window before he can make me go first. He trips and falls over the edge as Harper tosses the lighter to the floor, and the entire place goes up like an inferno.

I choke at the sudden rush of heat, but Creed is already grabbing me by the arms and yanking me out into a tumble on the grass.

“We need to get out of here,” Zack says, panting as he pauses next to us and helps us both to stand.

“Not without Tristan,” I snap, and then I turn and take off into the trees, back in the direction of the swimming pool.

The scene we stumble on is awful: Tristan on his knees, bleeding from his head, his eyes closed. Greg has the gun pointed at his forehead.

We have seconds, maybe, to save him. Seconds.

Without thinking, I jump off the edge and slam into Greg. A shot goes off, but I don’t know if it hit Tristan or not. I didn’t see.

The other boys are down in the pool in an instant, dragging Greg off of me.

Zayd and Zack hold him still while Windsor pulls back and punches the asshole in the face as hard as he can, dropping the bully like a bag of stones.

Creed helps me stand out of the murky water, and I glance over to see Tristan struggling