Hers To Keep (Servite Academy #2)

Chapter 44

Chapter

Forty-Four

SCARLETT

O ne Hour Earlier

I can’t believe I’ve been here for an entire month now. Every day I spend here, another piece of my soul falls victim to its darkness. Pretty soon there will be nothing left of me but a tarred husk, a distant memory of the girl I was before I fell into the clutches of this town's terrifying evil.

I’ve almost forgotten who I am, what I came here for. Like a robot I’ve come every night to do the same damn thing. Get my makeup done, get dressed in the most provocative and luxurious dresses, help the girls get prim and proper, and strut down to the center stage where I watch the most despicable of beings commit the most deplorable of sins.

Either way, I can’t continue to be selfish and consumed by my agenda. I’m here for these girls who see me as their arbitrator, their middleman so to speak—I'm Here to ensure their safety and advocate for their well-being. Because they are trapped in the clutches of a monster, and nobody else seems to give a fuck about that. Yet it’s daunting that he’s made them believe that every one of them are here of their own free will.

“The girls here thrive off the looks these horrid men give them, the luxuries, the extravagance. It fuels their dreams, feeds into their desires, keeps them feeling wanted,” Remi says, her legs crossed over my desk, in this crappy office Wesley placed me in.

“That’s fucking ridiculous, Remington,” I say, glaring at her, warning her she better put her fucking legs down.

But the bitch doesn’t budge. “It’s true,” she says, her mouth smacking loudly as she chews a piece of gum like a fucking child. I must admit when I first arrived, I couldn’t stand her, preferring the company of her twin sister Lexi. But something about Remi reminds me of what Jade was like before coming here to Hillcrest—always angry at the world. “Most girls come from shitty backgrounds, abusive, drug addicted, or absent parents. So this world, however crazy and depraved it may be, gives us an out. It’s not that far-fetched.”

I shake my head at her reasoning. It sounds crazy, but she said it with such conviction, I think she may actually believe it to be true. “No matter how bad your life is Remi, I can’t imagine you’d trade it to be gawked at like a fucking piece of meat.”

She scoffs, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder. “Judgy much,” she sneers, dropping her legs and scooting forward. “I mean look at you. Money talked and now you’re here.” I chuckle lightly at her assumption, gaining me a patronizing glare.

If only she knew, unlike her, I’m forced to be here. Forced by Wesley whose threats against Ace were all too real and forced by Marchesi to bring Wesley Servite to justice with even more dire consequences. Why can’t these sordid men act like men and solve their own issues instead of making a teenage girl do it?

Suddenly, my cell phone rings interrupting Remington as she continues to gloat about the glorious wonders of being one of Wesley’s girls . It sickens me to know I now fall into that category.

My throat constricts as I read the name that appears on the screen. Marchesi.

I’ve been dreading his call for weeks now. He hasn’t contacted me since I first arrived here, and that was only to make sure I’d settled in and remembered what was at stake. He said he’d be in touch, but a small part of me hoped he’d somehow just forget.

Afraid of what will happen if I let it go to voicemail, I answer, bringing the phone slowly up to my ear.

“Hello,” I mutter quietly, my throat dry, my voice quaking with fear. Remi eyes me warily, a hint of concern flashing before her eyes, as she sits up, her body stiffening, noticing my unease.

“My darling, it’s been too long,” Marchesi answers, his callous voice sending a shiver of panic through me. I feel my palms sweating, the rapid pulse of my overactive heart vibrating in my temples.

“What do you want?” I ask, glaring at Remi and motioning for her to get out of the room. She stands and rolls her eyes at me before she spins on her heels, flips me off and exits. Her earlier glimpse of concern instantly went away. I stalk over to lock the door behind her, my breathing deepening as I lean back against it.

“The time is here, my dear. Something has come up that is making my timeline move forward. This ends tonight. I need you to break into Wesley’s office and take the ledger.” In his voice I can hear a hint of concern, like something has slipped out of his control, but it’s muffled by my fear. I grip the doorknob behind me, trying to calm the nerves threatening to break me down.

“How do you even know it’s there?” I ask, my heart beating so rapidly it wouldn’t surprise me if he can hear it through the phone. I’ve been here a month and the entire time I believed he hadn’t the slightest clue where the ledger was. I mean, if he did, why would he wait so long to make me retrieve it?

“Because he always kept it there. In his office, under his desk, there is a raised floorboard. That’s where it will be,” he assures me, but before I can ask what to do once I find it, the phone call ends.

I stand still for a minute, unsure of what the hell just happened. I’ve been lucky enough to avoid Wesley as much as possible. He moved me into Servite Manor immediately after I accepted his proposal, but I’ve only seen him a few times since. He’s not a daily patron of The Gallows and only comes in when absolutely necessary, which is apparently never. After I ended things with Ace and my heated argument with Jade, I packed up my belongings and left the academy, my sister, and friends behind. I did it telling no one out of fear of what they’d do to stop me and have been his prisoner since.

The only contact I have with anyone other than the Servite Manor house staff is with the girls here at The Gallows. During the day, I’m locked in the room he placed me in at the manor, watching online streaming videos of my class lectures and turning in assignments over email. My meals are brought up to the room, and every night a car comes to pick me up and bring me here.

Beyond that, the only people I have contact with have been Remi and her sister Lexi. The rest of the girls keep their conversations with me brief and try anything to avoid any eye contact. Lexi says it’s out of respect for my position or admiration for it, but Remi assures me they are afraid of getting on my bad side.

Apparently, to everyone I’m their master’s mistress. Either way, the twins seem to be not only the most popular attraction but also the ones with the most prestige here.

Yet something about them seems off. They’ve been suspiciously interested in my backstory, trying to get me to reveal the reasons Ace and I broke up, and why Wesley seems so obsessed with me. At first, I thought it was out of jealousy, but something tells me there is more to their story, and I somehow get the feeling they know more about me than they’re letting on.

There is only one person who has rubbed me the wrong way since I arrived here. Actually, since that first time I came here months ago, and his name is Luke Prescott. I now know my instant disliking of him was because of his blood connection to my nemesis Carrington, but I’ve grown to hate him even more because he’s been my relentless shadow. He’s taken his task of watching over me every moment of the day awfully serious. He’s who I am going to have to sneak away from in order to get into Wesley’s office.

As soon as the first group of girls hits the stage, I sneak off and head toward the back corridor to the left of the stage, leading back to where Wesley’s office sits. Past the storage room, past the employee lounge, and down to the far end of the warehouse, hidden away from everything. I made sure I snuck away with no one seeing me come back here, but I’m sure it won’t be long before Luke notices I’m gone.

I walk down to the end of the corridor arriving at the door of Wesley’s office, luckily finding it unlocked as I slowly turn the knob, quickly heading inside and closing the door behind me. The room is dark and cold, the smell of tobacco infiltrating my senses as I stalk further inside. I’ve never been inside his office; there was really no need for me to come in.

After my first day here, I was set up in my mother’s old office, where my only task other than making the girls look pretty and presentable, is to order clothes, supplies and schedule hair and waxing appointments. That’s it. That’s all he wanted me for. That and to parade me around and show everyone around him I’m his and only his. Which makes me think the only reason he wanted me to work for him was to get rid of my mother or make me get rid of Ace.

I’m not sure how much time I have before someone, maybe even Wesley finds me here, so I have to move fast. The office is pitch black, not a window in sight that allows me to see what my surroundings look like. All I can see in the far end of the room is a large wooden desk with a throne-like chair behind it. I strut over toward the desk, my heels tapping against the hardwood floors as I run my fingers around the back side of the tufted chair before moving it back and dropping to my knees to look for the loose floorboard Marchesi mentioned.

I position myself on all fours as I tap every inch of the floorboards, trying to find a hallowed spot, and am surprised I take only a few minutes to actually find it. I pop the floorboard open and use the flashlight on my cell phone to look inside, but all I can make out are cobwebs and something I’m afraid might be a rat sneaking through.

“Okay come on, Scarlett, you can do this,” I mutter to myself as I close my eyes and reach inside, feeling around for anything that might resemble the ledger I’m supposed to find. My fingers bump against a wooden box of sorts and I tightly grab onto it, gently pulling it out, and making sure I don’t lose my grip. The box is an antique, light oak wood chest with carvings of symbols and words written in a language I don’t recognize. The ledger has to be in here. I try to open the cover, but find it’s locked, a T-shaped keyhole visible on the metal latch holding it shut. Settling back on my knees, I reach up and open the small drawer in the middle of the desk feeling around for something I can use to open it. To my surprise, I find a small antique looking relic in the shape of a cross with sharp slanted edges and unique carvings. It looks awfully familiar, and I realize it’s almost identical to the silver cross Ace keeps hung around his neck. There is no coincidence, this has to be the key to opening the box.

I set the box on the desk as I stand and sit upon Wesley’s chair. My fingers are trembling as I place the cross into the keyhole on the latch. It opens with a loud click and my heart beats terrifyingly fast as I lift the lid hoping to find the ledger, my one and only leverage out of this hell.

There it is, right before my eyes, the small bundle of leather that is worth more than I could ever imagine. It’s much smaller than I expected, just a plain, black, leather journal with a strap holding it shut. It’s astounding how something so small holds the key to ending Wesley Servite. Once he exposes them, no one will ever trust him and his exclusivity or confidentiality again. No one will want to work with him, for him, or be a part of his illicit businesses.

Without anonymity, there is no prestige.

Suddenly, the door of the office is swung open, the lights flicker on and shine bright, as Luke Prescott appears under the doorway, gazing suspiciously at me sitting on his boss’s throne.

Luke stares at me attentively, a sly smirk in the place of his earlier scowl as he shrewdly approaches the desk. I swiftly move my hands behind my back as I stand, hiding the ledger, hoping he didn’t see me holding it, although I now realize my movement was quite suspicious.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he asks, his green eyes roaming over me, a devious, wanton look in them as he focuses on the deep neckline of my gown and my obviously flustered look.

“I was just, um, picking up some documents Wesley asked me to get,” I say, grabbing a stack of random papers on his desk. I carefully move to hide the ledger behind the papers and move around the desk. “I was actually just leaving,”

I hurriedly move to slide past him but don’t get far before his hand reaches out to grab a hold of me. I cringe as his hand wraps tightly around my elbow, his mouth lowering to my ear as he whispers harshly against it.

“Not so fast, baby girl,” he growls, his hot breath reeking of tobacco and liquor. “I warned him this would happen, but the bastard never believed me. I told him he should have never trusted you, should have never given you absolute power.” His tongue comes out to lick the skin of my ear as he bites down harshly on my lobe abruptly, pulling the papers and ledger out of my hand. He drops the papers looking down at the ledger in his hands and then back up at me. “But I’m sure we can work something out. You know, he doesn’t have to know you snuck in here. I don’t have to tell,” he adds, cleverly sliding the ledger into his back pocket .

His words suggest a crass innuendo of trading something in return for his silence and it’s sickening to even contemplate. Of course, like every other guy I’ve met thus far, Luke is gorgeous. Though his green eyes, hidden under a thick layer of black eyeliner, which watch me wantonly, do nothing but repulse me.

“You’re fucking pathetic, Luke,” I sneer, trying to tug away out of his grasp. “Like I’d ever stoop so fucking low.”

He grins wickedly, a single silver tooth I hadn’t focused on before appearing behind his lips. “Oh baby, but you are forgetting one particularly important fact. I’m a Prescott. I’m fucking royalty here in Hillcrest and they won’t give a shit what I do with you.” His free hand moves to my lower back, gripping my ass as he bites down on the skin of my neck.

It sends a wave of anger and disgust through me. I spit at his feet and knee him right in between his legs making him crouch forward in agony. “I haven’t forgotten, but you’re wrong about being royalty.” I snicker as he groans in pain. “You’re the scum beneath Wesley Servite’s feet. Nothing but his pathetic little bitch begging for whatever measly scraps your master offers you.”

“You fucking bitch!” he shouts, straightening up as he backhand slaps me across the face. The sting of his hand against my cheek burns but I have no time to react as suddenly Luke falls to my feet as glass shatters around him.

I stand stunned as I watch him, lying motionless on the floor before me, a small puddle of blood spreading across the floor beneath his head. Looking up, I find Remi standing above him, her breathing hasty as she holds the remaining pieces of a cracked vase with blood smeared across it in her hand. Her eyes are wide and angry as she watches him.

“What the fuck, Remi?” I shout, looking back down at Luke and the blood oozing out of the large gash on his forehead.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that for fucking forever,” she says as she smirks widely, a look of satisfaction in her eyes as she stares at him unconscious at her feet. After a moment, her gaze meets mine, a realization of what’s happened clouding them. “Come on, Scarlett, we don’t have all night, he’s on his way.”

I don’t move a muscle, astounded and speechless, I look up at her as she tries to pull my arm, dragging me toward her. “Who’s on his way, Remi?” I ask, looking from her to the body before us. “We can’t just leave Luke here.”

“Um, yes we can. He’s a fucking dickhead. He got what was coming to him for putting his hands on what isn’t his. And what do you mean who? Ace, of course.” She pulls me with her, the shock of her words making me too weak to fight back.

“Wait, why is he coming?” I stutter confused as I follow her, but not before I reach down and grab the ledger from Luke’s back pocket. I walk down the hall with her, past the crowd huddled around by the bar, and toward the back employee entrance that stands unoccupied. My heart thumps fiercely in my chest, something it hasn’t ceased to do in months, with each step we take getting closer to the exit.

“To save your ass,” Remi says, dragging me towards the door. “Although why he puts up with your stubborn little ass baffles me.” I can feel her rolling her eyes, the flaunt in her steps showing she’s obviously not doing this because she wants to.

It’s then I finally process the gravity of what she’s said. Ace is on his way to save me. “But we…”

“Broke up, yeah, babe, sorry to tell you but no one is buying that shit,” she scoffs, interrupting me. “Now let’s go before another one of Wesley’s goons shows up.” That’s all that’s left to say.

A flood of relief washes over me when I hear her say our break-up was nothing but a ruse. That means there is still hope I haven’t completely fucked things up and my man is coming for me. I hold the ledger tightly in my hand, the key that will end Wesley Servite once and for all, and I couldn’t be happier.

But you know how that always ends for me.

In tragedy.