Ruthless Heart Read online

  “Like I would leave you out,” Gray scoffed as Ash flopped backwards onto my bed. “Thought you’d be longer. Find anything?”

  “Nothing,” Ash groaned as he sat back up. “She’s a fucking ghost.”

  “How?” I demanded as I shot to my feet. “Do you know how often people are watching us?” I looked between the two of them. “Every fucking moment. How the fuck did no one see me with her?”

  “Because you’re a Devil,” Gray answered me as he held the plate out to Ash. “No salt, no mayo, no butter, just chicken, lettuce, tomatoes.”

  “My man,” Ash said gratefully as he accepted the plate. “Thanks.”

  “Welcome,” Gray murmured as he watched me. “Jett, we know how to move without anyone seeing us. If you didn’t want to be seen, no one would have.”

  “Except the girl,” Ash mumbled around his food.

  “Which confirms that you didn’t meet her at the party, but on the way home.” Gray was looking on his phone. “Between the other end of campus and here, there is a whole lot of ground, but more importantly, the woods to the east. Would you have taken a shortcut?” He looked up at me, his light blue eyes calculating. “It would make no sense, but if you weren’t thinking straight…”

  “What a fuck up.” I started to pace as I racked my brain about Friday night. We had no classes on Friday afternoons as we all had practice. Practice had been fucking merciless, and Coach had been worse than normal. His wife had recently passed away, and he was channelling his grief through avenues of torture on his players. When the centre started throwing up from the intensity of the workout, Coach had eased off. But it had been brutal.

  After practice, I went to the gym to use the pool and then the spa. My body had been stretched too tight. When I got home, I spoke to Quinn for an hour on the phone. Ash had gone home straight after practice to see his little sister, who had been sick with a bug. She was better and no longer contagious and wanted to see her brother to wish him luck for the game the next day, since her mom deemed her still too poorly to attend. There was not one Santo man alive who could deny Tilly anything. After I spoke to Quinn, I’d gotten a text. “Where’s my phone?” I demanded as I looked around the room.

  “Why?” Gray asked as he looked up. “It’s not like you would take her number.”

  “I got a text to go to the party. I don’t remember who though.” I looked at my brother. “Do you?” Gray shook his head in answer.

  “Here,” Ash said as he picked it up from the side cabinet and tossed it to me.

  Scrolling through my messages, I searched for Friday night. “I must have deleted it,” I said as I read. “There’s nothing here except…”

  “Except?” Gray demanded as he stood.

  “Who the hell is Wade?” I asked as I looked up at them.

  “Fuck knows. Why?” Ash asked as he looked over my shoulder.

  “Because I have a message from him after one saying it was nice meeting me.” I looked between Ash and Gray with a raised eyebrow. “It’s never nice to meet me.”

  Ash laughed despite the situation, and even Gray cracked a smile as he looked at his watch. “As true as that is, brother, we need to move if we’re doing this tonight.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded as I stared at the phone. “How long we got?”

  “Fifteen.” Gray picked up the plates and headed to the door where he hesitated and looked once at Ash before he spoke to me. “You’re going to need to call Quinn, she may help.”

  “Shit, really?” Ash groaned as he stretched, his hands touching the ceiling easily. “Why do we need to bring her into this?” he protested sullenly.

  “Because she knows everyone, even if she is a giant bitch.” Gray gave him a tight smile. “She also hears shit we would never be told.” Gray shook his head in admiration as he thought about our childhood friend. “To be honest, I’d be surprised if she didn’t already know,” he added with a fond smile.

  I agreed with my brother, but I hesitated as I looked over at Ash, who rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just don’t expect me to be there.” With a shake of his head, he left the room.

  “It’s been almost two years,” Gray said softly after Ash was gone.

  “Quinn has a lasting effect on people,” I quipped.

  “He’ll go apeshit when he learns how much you both still talk.”

  “Will it be more or less apeshit when he finds out it was you who told her to break up with him?” I asked with mock curiosity. Gray gave me his full attention, and after a long moment, he raised an eyebrow. “What?” I challenged him with a smirk as I crossed to the bathroom. “You think you can get anything past me, little brother?”

  “Up until Friday, I would say no. But that was before you got your drink spiked and got more or less date raped.” Gray’s voice was cold. “Now I think you’re probably the pussy I always thought you were.”

  I turned to look at him. He was slightly shorter than me, a fact I knew pissed him off. His hair was dark brown rather than black, his face rounder, fuller, and in my opinion—not that I ever told him—better than mine. I was all sharp angles, whereas my brother was softer. Not in temper though, in temper we were both explosive.

  “Did you really just go there?” I asked him as I took a step towards him.

  “Yes, I did.” Gray stood tall. “Because my brother would never be sitting fucking worrying about who some slut was. Instead, he would be wrecking fucking mayhem, finding the bitch who drugged him and then”—Gray leaned forward as if in challenge—“be mopping up her blood with her blonde…fucking…hair.”

  We stared each other down for a few more minutes before I looked him up and down. “Man, you’re a bitch.” I felt my top lip curl in a snarl. “Bitch-slapped by Gray Santo,” I added with a shake of my head.

  “Anytime, big brother,” Gray said as he turned back to the door. “Any fucking time.”

  When the door closed behind him, I gave another shake of my head as I thought about it. He was right. I was too caught up in the aftereffects. I needed to focus not only on the who but the why.

  Why would anyone need to drug me to get me to sleep with them? I wasn’t overly fussy about my bed partners, and from what I had seen of my puking partner on Saturday morning, she had curves in the right places. From what my dick had told me as I showered, it had definitely had no problem carrying out its job. I’d picked up four wrappers and, much to my annoyance, three used condoms from the floor on my way to the shower after Ash, almost breaking down my door, had woken me up. I was always careful with the disposal of my shit, so the fact I had merely tossed them aside as I kept on going should have been a warning on Saturday morning that something wasn’t right.

  That and the fact I hadn’t heard my alarm. I never overslept. Now I wasn’t sure if that was an effect of whatever had been in my system.

  Why hadn’t I looked at her? She hadn’t moved an inch when Ash hammered the door. She hadn’t grumbled when I prodded her, hadn’t stirred when I nudged her. Hadn’t woken when I spoke to her before I went to shower. I recalled Ash asking if she was dead. Fuck, the amount of care I had taken in regard to her well-being on Saturday, she could have been.

  I’d been so fucking lucky. Coach hadn’t noticed my hangover, which I now knew wasn’t a hangover. Our game on Saturday had been against one of the lower league teams. They couldn’t score a touchdown even if we hadn’t shown up.

  No one had anything to gain from that team for spiking my drink.

  Suspended for two weeks, maybe more. I peeled my T-shirt off as I fumed internally. If it was more than two weeks, I would miss the trip to Texas, and I always enjoyed beating the smug fuckers on their defence. Also meant I would actually have to attend Friday classes.

  As I threw my jeans in the laundry basket, I stopped. After our game in Houston, we were at home to Alabama.

  Cursing savagely, I pulled my clothes on for tonight before I went to speak to my brother. I knew exactly who had fucking drugged me.

  Now, I
just needed to find the blonde to prove it.

  “And then Leitch was like, you’ll thank me for this.” My hands waved as I talked, and I glared at Mia as she stifled her giggles. “And then, I was late for History of Writing class, and I sneak in, sit down second row from the back, and sit on a girl!” I screeched. “Go on, ask me why.”

  Mia coughed back her laugh as she waited for more. “Why did you sit on her?”

  “Because she was giving head to a stupid man child,” I grouched as I fell onto the couch in despair, my anger at Jett surfacing once more.

  Mia laughed out loud before she followed me to the couch, her iced coffee dripping onto the wooden floor. “In the classroom?” she asked me in disbelief as she sat down.

  “Yes! It was horrifying, and of course I yelped like a goddamn puppy, and the whole class stops and looks at me, and the professor turns the lights up, and everyone’s staring, and she’s crawling along the back row and…ugh.” I stopped as I rubbed my hand over my eyes. “It was humiliating.”

  Mia laughed loudly, her head thrown back as she clutched her sides. “Why were you humiliated? You weren’t getting down and dirty in the class.” As she prodded me with her toe, I thought about Jett’s smug smirk again. Asshole. “Who was it?”

  Mia knew I held a harbouring resentment towards Jett Santo as it was. Before Friday, we had never actually met in person—and now I had a reason for my irrational dislike of Jett—but I was a football fan.

  And he was a football star.

  And I didn’t support the Cardinal Saints football team. Or their cocky smirking quarterback.

  I got into this college through sheer luck and, of course, academic credit, but this was a private university, and I was on the lower half of the food chain when it came to money. Actually, I was so low down I was lucky I could see the chain at all. However, I had been given one of only three English scholarships due to my submission entry, which was a thesis of twenty thousand words detailing why I was worthy of the scholarship. My 3.9 GPA helped too.

  My mom went to college in Alabama, and I was all set for their state college, but my chance to stay “local” arose when my guidance counsellor recommended I apply for the scholarship to Cardinal Saints College. I’d laughed at first and then thought, why not? never in a million years thinking I would actually be successful. The scholarship was a rarity in itself, but it was a full ticket, it even included a meal plan. It was a godsend and meant neither mom nor I would need to worry about college debt.

  However, despite our gratefulness for the scholarship, my mom’s football blood ran white and blue; therefore, my football blood ran white and blue. Not the silver and black of the Saints.

  Dante Spence was the quarterback I followed. Dante was the college football star who I dreamed of. Dante was the footballer who I had imagined myself in several positions in the bedroom with. Not Jett Santo. With his stupid messy black hair and his stupid tattoos and his stupid low husky voice that made me want to listen to him all day.

  “Ugh, no one really.” I shrugged it off, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smile fade.

  “You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?” She placed her cup down on the table without a coaster, and I hurriedly snatched it off the wood.

  “Mia!” I protested. “There’s a coaster right there.”

  “Gosh, you’re as bad as my mom,” Mia muttered as she pushed herself to her feet. “You’re such a worrywart, Ava.” She held her hand out to me, and I placed the cup back in it, watching her as she drank her coffee as she settled back onto the couch. “Now, tell me who it was.”

  “Jett Santo.”

  Mia was on her feet again, her coffee forgotten as it dangled in her hand. Her mouth was open, and I knew I was about to be asked a hundred questions. “Are you for real?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Oh my gosh, did you see it?” Her eyes were wide with excitement, and I was already shaking my head. “You had to have seen it. They say he’s not shy in that area, is it true?”

  “He’s definitely not shy,” I grumbled. “I didn’t see anything,” I added as I headed to the kitchen to distance myself from her questions. I didn’t add that I could still feel him in my nether regions either.

  “How?” Mia followed me, sliding onto the bar stool at the breakfast counter. “How didn’t you see anything?”

  “I guess he must have put it away when I screamed.”

  Mia snorted as she started laughing again. “Oh my!” She gasped between laughs. “You’re such a prude, I wish I’d seen your face!” As she wiped her eyes, I remained silent. Mia had no hang-ups about hooking up with guys, and truthfully, I envied her. I just didn’t feel the need to sleep with the people I went on dates with. Mia always went on about the chemistry. I think my pH level was neutral, as I had never encountered a chemical reaction yet.

  You did today when you spoke to Jett.

  Yeah, that was an aftereffect of Friday. Not him. Not after he had…parts…of him in someone’s mouth in a classroom. Pig.

  “He probably needed consoling, poor thing.” As she poured her remaining drink down the sink, I stared in horror at the waste of coffee before her words penetrated.

  “Why?”

  Looking at me over her shoulder, my best friend shrugged. “I didn’t want any more.”

  “No, doofus.” Swiping at her hair playfully, I giggled as she ducked out of the way. “Why would Mr-I’m-The-Best-Quarterback-Ever need consoling?”

  “Oh he’s injured. Didn’t you hear?”

  “Injured?” I was already on my phone, looking at the team news. “He didn’t even take a tackle on Saturday.”

  “You’re so weird.” Mia rinsed her cup before putting it in the trash. “He got injured in training.”

  “When?”

  “Dude, I am not his PA.” Mia crossed her arms as she watched me. “You seem very interested in him. You sure you saw nothing?”

  Not that I can remember.

  “I saw nothing,” I stressed. “I just had to put up with his shit-talking afterwards.”

  “He spoke to you?” Mia was excited again.

  “Mia, I stopped him getting his finish,” I said, using the appropriate air quotes. “I told him he was disgusting.”

  Mia was once again speechless. “Are you kidding me?” she squealed. “You told one of the hottest guys on this campus that he was disgusting?”

  “Mia, he was getting a blow job in class!”

  “Ava, Jett Santo could be in a threesome in the middle of a class, and people wouldn’t say a word.”

  “Well, that’s a disturbing thought.” I picked up my book bag and headed to my room. “He’s a male chauvinist pig!” I yelled over my shoulder.

  “You’re a prude, Ava Bryant. You need to get rid of that V-card and come join the rest of us in the dirt!” Mia’s words carried down the hall, and even though she was laughing and I knew she was only joking, her words still stung.

  “I was in the dirt,” I said to my empty room. “I don’t want to go back down there.”

  Mia and I had secured a two-bedroom suite with a shared kitchenette. A small living room off of the kitchenette and a shared shower room made up the rest of our tiny dorm suite. The college housing actually marketed it as an off-campus apartment, which even with a very artistic licence, I thought, was pushing it. Firstly, there was no off-campus. The whole entire built-up area in the middle of lush forestry was campus. There were stores and restaurants, but the whole entire economy of the town of Cardinal was the college, administration and student body.

  If you drove about two hours from Knoxville and an hour north of Nashville, you’d found us. Being a private college, the student population was smaller than most, but the fan base for the varsity teams was huge. The football stadium sat over forty thousand spectators, and at every home game, there wasn’t a seat to spare.

  The actual town was a few miles west of the college campus, and that’s where some of the students c
ame from. Like the Santo boys. Rumour was they had owned their high school as much as they now owned the student population in college.

  In my opinion they were arrogant boys, who thought they were above everyone. I watched them play, and they were talented, but they ruined it, because they knew it.

  Privileged, entitled assholes.

  And I slept with one of them.

  Like so many before me, with many more to follow. I wasn’t delusional. I knew having sex with Jett on Friday would make me no more than another girl in his long list of conquests, I just struggled to understand how I was on the list. Why didn’t I remember meeting him? Talking to him? Why was I only getting X-rated flashbacks of him having sex with me?

  I’d read a book once where the girl hooks up with the guy in the bathroom in the very first chapter. Some random guy walks into the bathroom, and they have some sort of insane chemistry and end up going at it without a word spoken. I loved reading that sort of attraction in books.

  But those books were fiction. Fantasy.

  Hooking up with random people without saying anything, did that happen in real life? With no consequences? No guilt? No care for their health?

  I needed another shower. I still felt dirty. Used. It wasn’t rational; I knew I had been drunk, I knew he wouldn’t have known how incredibly out of character it was for me, I knew Jett wasn’t to blame for my recklessness on Friday.

  Yet still…I hated him.

  I hated him for what he unknowingly took, and I hated myself for not being able to remember.

  Talking to him today merely emphasised how much of a dick he was. The best news I had heard since Friday was that he was injured. Reading the update on the college football’s newsfeed, I grinned when I saw he was out for two games.

  What a result! Mom’s hometown college team played here in a few weeks, and the Saints’ backup quarterback was nothing compared to Jett. Looks like the Blues would be winning.

  With a smile on my face, I settled down to do my assignments and promised not to give one more minute of my attention to Jett freaking Santo.