Cruel Promise Page 6

  He gasped at the first touch. “Fair.”

  “I know what I want,” I told him as I angled his body toward the wall and pushed him up against it.

  His eyes were wide with surprise and hunger. He was not stopping me, even as his back thumped against the wall. Loud enough for anyone on the other side to hear.

  “What’s that?” he got out. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  Slowly, I sank to my knees before him. His eyes went wide as I dragged his sweats and boxers down his legs, letting his cock jut out in front of my face.

  “Lark,” he groaned as I stroked him and licked my lips.

  I leaned forward and took the tip of him in my mouth. His cock jumped in my mouth as I bobbed forward against him. My tongue laved the shaft before coming back and concentrating on the head.

  “Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  Not a single word was quiet.

  I braced myself against his hips as I sucked him off. And despite whatever reason this had all started, I was getting turned on just from doing this. His body was responding so perfectly. Getting bigger and thicker inside my mouth. His hands were buried in my hair. Not quite guiding me, but not exactly leaving me fully to my own capacities either.

  I could tell as he tightened his grip on my head that he was getting close. His cock jerked in my mouth. He thrust forward slightly once, twice as he came so close to climax.

  My jaw ached, and I nearly gagged as he got deeper and deeper into my mouth. But I wasn’t going to stop.

  “Close,” was the only word he got out before he came into my mouth.

  I squeezed my eyes shut before swallowing it down.

  “Fuck, Lark,” he said. He was practically shaking from his orgasm. His eyes were heavy-lidded and sex-driven.

  “I like when you say my name like that.”

  He bent down and lifted me to my feet. Then he stepped out of his clothes and pushed me back to the bed. It squeaked noisily with every movement. I smiled as it squealed beneath me.

  “Your turn.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m not sure I can be quiet for that.”

  He was already moving to my jeans and grinned. “As quiet as you can,” he said before burying his face between my legs.

  I was not quiet. At all.

  III

  I stayed over at Sam’s every night that week. I trusted him. But I didn’t trust Melissa one bit. Not even a little. Not after she’d told me that she was going after him. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity for an in.

  My phone started buzzing as I groggily made it to campus. I checked the number and saw that it was Katherine. I yawned and sent it to voicemail. I had a meeting with my volunteer Kennedy about final poll schedules. She’d been having some trouble with a group of core volunteers who had started to get flaky. End-of-the-semester blues or something. And I wanted to get it worked out ASAP.

  My meeting with Kennedy lasted about a half hour. I pulled my phone back out to call Katherine and stared down at it in shock.

  “What?” Kennedy asked in surprise.

  “I have, like, a dozen missed calls,” I told her.

  “Did someone die?”

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  My parents had called. Twice. All of my friends had called—Katherine, Penn, Lewis, and Rowe. Even people I wasn’t as friendly with were listed in my missed calls.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered. “I’m going to call my friend back.”

  “No problem. Let me know if something’s wrong or you need my help,” she said, packing up her bag and heading out.

  Just as I went to call Katherine, my closest friend from law school, Anna English, called. We spoke every week, but this wasn’t when she normally called.

  “English,” I said uncertainly. “What’s up?”

  “Lark, how are you?”

  “I don’t know. What happened?”

  English was silent a second. “You haven’t seen?”

  “Seen?”

  “All right, I hate to be the one to break it to you. But I check TMZ on the regular now for my new job.”

  “Oh, right…you’re a publicist now. But…TMZ?”

  “Yeah.” English cleared her throat. “So, you’re in a rather, um…unflattering picture, which just showed up in the tabloids. The headline reads, Upper East Side Princess in the Dirt.”

  My hands shook. “What?”

  “Yeah, I guess someone found out that you were campaigning. And instead of talking about it like it was a good thing, they posted a shit picture of you an article about how you’re slumming it. It’s really disgusting.”

  “Oh my god,” I whispered in horror. “Does it say who gave them the information or the picture?”

  “No, I’ve been digging, but it looks like it was an anonymous tip.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m going to see if the PR firm can do anything about it, but…it’s already circulating.”

  “And the internet is forever.”

  “Pretty much.”

  I swallowed back bile. “Thanks, English. Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Of course. I’m so sorry. If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.”

  “I will. You’re the best.”

  We said our good-byes. This could not be happening. I’d done everything right. I hadn’t wanted anyone to know what I was doing. When you were the heir to a Fortune 500 company, you took precautions to hide your identity. I didn’t care if Sam knew, but I hadn’t wanted the world to know.

  I clicked over to my texts and found a link to the article in one of them. My stomach dropped as I read the rest of the text. It was short, no more than two paragraphs, but it was disgusting. I’d been in the media a fair amount, especially in high school when I ran wild. But this was a new level of low. I was here, doing a good thing, and they made it look like I was doing something wrong. Ugh!

  Then my eyes scanned the picture, which really could not have been less flattering. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes. Wait. I remembered what I’d been doing when I wore that outfit a few days ago. To have gotten that shot, it had to have been someone who was volunteering for the campaign.

  My body froze as my sickness turned to anger. Melissa. It had to be Melissa. This was how she was fighting. I had no idea how she knew who I really was, but there was no other explanation. I’d been working with most of these volunteers for months. There’d be no reason for them to turn me in…if they even knew who I was. But Melissa had motive.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t believe this.

  I sent the article to Sam and then dialed his number. I knew that he was busy, but this couldn’t wait.

  “Hey, Lark. Can I call you back in five?” he asked as soon as he answered.

  “Melissa sold a picture of me to the tabloids.”

  “What?” he asked in shock. He cleared his throat and then said something to his volunteers. “I’m free. Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  “I sent you the article in a text. She sold me out to the tabloids.”

  Sam was silent for a minute. “I just read the article, and it’s fucking trash, Lark. Everything posted there is utter bullshit.”

  “I know,” I whispered. Not that it made me feel any better.

  “But why do you think Melissa did this? It could have been anyone.”

  “I’ve been on campaign for almost a year, Sam. The only thing that’s changed is her. And she was there that day when I was wearing that outfit.”

  Sam sighed. “Lark, I love you, but breathe for a minute. You don’t really know Melissa. She is a sweet, kind Southern girl. This is not her style at all.”

  “Then I think that you don’t really know her, Sam. Because this has her name all over it.”

  “Look,” he said with another sigh, “we are a week away from Election Day. You haven’t slept in months, and you’re not feeling that great.”

  Which was true. I’d woken up yesterday w
ith some horrible cold that wouldn’t leave.

  “Maybe let your volunteers take over and try to relax.”

  “Sam,” I groaned.

  “Please, Lark. The election will be over soon, and after a few days of sleep, we’ll all be able to see more clearly. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I lied.

  “I have to get back, but call me if you need me. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I hung up the phone and dropped my head back. He wouldn’t even listen to me. He thought it was the cold and sleep deprivation talking. But I hadn’t told him that Melissa claimed to be here to win him back. Not that he’d likely believe that either.

  But I knew she had done this. I fucking knew it.

  If she wanted to play dirty, I could show her what the Upper East Side was really like. Show Sam exactly what Melissa was capable of.

  IV

  “Hey, Lark,” Melissa said with a cheeky smile as she showed up on campus later that day.

  I could see in her keen eyes that she was anticipating my reaction.

  “Melissa,” I said with a head nod. “I’m waiting for a few more volunteers, and then I’ll have you take them out to canvass.”

  “Oh, yeah? You don’t want me for training today?” She dropped her backpack down with a clunk.

  “No, I think you’ll be needed in the field.”

  Melissa opened her mouth like she was going to argue, but I turned away from her and handed out a clipboard to one of the volunteers. She wasn’t going to get a reaction from me. I wasn’t going to let her think that she’d gotten to me. But I also wasn’t going to reward her behavior by letting her stay here and train volunteers, which half the time meant she sat around on her laptop. I had other people I trusted to do trainings. I wanted her out of my sight.

  When everyone was finally here, I paired people off and then sent them out into the field. Melissa hovered by me.

  “Do you need something?”

  “I saw that horrible article about you this morning.”

  I blinked. “Okay?”

  “You must be feeling awful.”

  I laughed softly, glad that Melissa hadn’t been on campus earlier when I had my breakdown. “I’m from the Upper East Side. Much worse has been said about me. Those tabloids are trash anyway.”

  “Right. Do you know who did that?” she asked, wide-eyed with innocence.

  I just smiled. “We both know who did it.”

  Melissa arched her eyebrows. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”

  “Why don’t you go work?” I suggested. “You’re not really needed here.”

  Melissa pursed her lips. Then she leaned in close. “You didn’t think I’d let you get away with saying you were going to ruin my life, did you?”

  I said nothing. Just kept my steady gaze on her. It didn’t matter that she’d confirmed that she’d done it. I’d already known that. And Sam wouldn’t believe me either way. Not now. Not yet.

  “Have a nice day,” I said, turning my back on her.

  She hovered behind me a second before huffing off after another volunteer. Good riddance.

  I dropped into my chair, thankful that everyone had disappeared for the next couple hours. I downed some more cold medicine and blew my nose, and then I went to work. But no matter how much I tried to focus, my mind kept spinning back to Melissa. I needed something to get back at her. To prove that she wasn’t what she seemed.

  My gaze wandered to her backpack. I bit my lip and then drew it toward me. I fished out her laptop and then opened it in front of me.

  Password.

  Crap.

  I had no clue what it could be. Luckily, one of my crew was a tech genius. Rowe had invented the social media platform Crew, which was sweeping the country right now. I’d seen him hack people in minutes in high school. He’d know how to do it.

  I dialed his number.

  “Lark,” he said in greeting. “I’ve been trying to get rid of that picture all morning.”

  Leave it to Rowe to cut straight to the issue. “Thanks, Rowe. But I need to get into someone’s computer, but it’s password-protected. How do I get around that?”

  “Is it a company computer?”

  “No. Just a personal laptop.”

  “Mac?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Here is what you do,” he began.

  He didn’t care one bit why I needed to break into a computer. He’d always had ambiguous morals about tech security. Classic Rowe.

  I carefully followed his instructions and was shocked that within a few keystrokes, I’d bypassed the password, and I was into Melissa’s laptop. Damn, that had been almost too easy.

  “Thanks, Rowe.”

  “Anytime. I’ll keep working on the picture.”

  I laughed. “Thanks.”

  I didn’t know what I was looking for as I dug through her computer files. Something, anything incriminating. I found a ton of pictures, including dozens with some guy named Joey. They were recent, too. None of them were dirty, but it was a start. I pulled up the browser and opened her Crew account, which she stayed logged in to. I searched for Joey in her Friends list and found the same guy. He lived in Chapel Hill, but his profile was basically empty. No pictures of him with Melissa. No relationship status. I frowned and decided to try her email.

  When I typed Joey into the search bar, dozens of emails popped up. Bingo.

  From some digging through her emails, I gathered that they’d met on Tinder and been hooking up for weeks. It looked like neither of them had put a label on it, and she’d put him on hold while she was out of town. On hold but not finished.

  I quickly forwarded their conversations to my email so I could read them later and then deleted it from her sent file. I checked the time with excitement coursing through me. Most people got sick at the thought of doing something dangerous, but a part of me relished it. A part of me wanted to destroy things. I’d spent the last year with Sam, pushing down the darker sides of my personality. Just trying to be Lark. But Larkin St. Vincent got shit done.

  Then I drafted an email to Joey, copying Melissa’s writing style.

  Hey,

  How are you? Hope you’re doing well. I know that the campaign ends in a week, but I’ve really been missing you. I wish that you could come up to Wisconsin and visit. A girl can dream, right?

  Mel

  My heart pattered in my chest as I hit the Send button and waited for a response. From previous email exchanges, it looked like he was always on his email, waiting for her to send something. I’d thought it was weird that they weren’t texting, but apparently, at his job, he couldn’t use his phone. Hence the hundreds of emails.

  The screen blinked, and a new message appeared.

  Mel,

  It’s good to hear from you. It’s so boring here without you. I’ve really missed you, too. Are you serious about me coming to visit?

  Joey

  I responded next, sticking to how they normally talked back and forth.

  Dead serious. Do you think you could make it work? —Mel

  Gah, I can get the time off work, but I checked the flights, and they’re crazy. I don’t think that I could afford to do it. —Joey

  I tapped my lip. I had a solution to that, but it was mad.

  I could pay for your flight. I have more money coming in right now. I wouldn’t mind. —Mel

  Nah. I could never accept that. Though it would be so worth it. —Joey

  I smiled devilishly. Here we go.

  But I want to. Just send me your info, and I’ll book it for Saturday morning. —Mel

  You’re sure? —Joey

  You said it yourself. It’d be so worth it. —Mel

  I tapped my finger on the keyboard, waiting. Melissa wouldn’t be back for at least another hour, but still, the nerves were making me jittery.

  All right. I’ll come. —Joey

  My smile grew at the response.

  Hook, line, and sinker.


  I knew how I was going to take down Melissa Young. She would regret ever releasing that picture of me or thinking she could take Sam from me.

  V

  I couldn’t shake my cold. My head felt like it was a thousand pounds, my throat was scratchy, and my entire face was stuffy. And that was with medicine.

  “You should really go to the doctor,” Sam said as I blew my nose for the hundredth time.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, my voice nasally.

  “You are not fine. You’re not sleeping. Your body is shutting down.”

  I pressed my hand to my head. “When am I going to have time to go to the doctor, Sam? It’s three days until the election. I have to be here.”

  “Even this isn’t worth killing yourself over,” he reminded me.

  I sank into a seat at the front of the office. I didn’t even have it in me to argue. My eyes were hot and heavy. Though I was pretty sure that I didn’t have a fever. Just this stupid cold.

  “Ready to go to campus?” Melissa asked, trotting into the office with a bounce in her step.

  “Lark isn’t going to campus today,” Sam said. “She’s too sick.”

  “Oh nooo,” Melissa crooned. “That is too bad, Lark.”

  I glared up at her. “I’m going to campus.”

  “You’re going to a doctor.”

  “No,” I told him flatly.

  “Lark,” he groaned.

  The door to the office opened again, and a bell jingled overhead, cutting Sam off. In walked a tall, burly guy with glasses. My mouth went dry.

  Joey.

  “Melissa!” he said cheerfully. Then he strode across the room and scooped her up in a hug.

  I saw panic skitter across her face before disappearing. She pushed him away as soon as he put her down.