The Risk: Kings of Linwood Academy #3 Read online

  Unlike Scott Parsons, this woman does look put together. She looks like once she’s made up her mind about something, she won’t change it, and she doesn’t look like the type to tolerate incompetence.

  Fucking great.

  I sit on my hands to stop them from fidgeting nervously as the pre-trial hearing begins. The proceedings go on for several hours, and I do my best to follow along, but it’s like watching a sport I’ve never seen before. I don’t know who’s up and who’s down, if Mom is doing okay or if things are going terribly.

  By the time the hearing is adjourned, I’m a nervous wreck.

  I give Mom a wave and a forced smile as she’s escorted out by a guard, and then I get up to leave, following the flow of people heading out of the room. I tug my cellphone out of my pocket and shoot a text to Linc.

  ME: I’m done. The hearing just finished.

  His response is almost instantaneous.

  LINCOLN: Leaving now. Be there soon.

  School is still in session, but the guys were adamant about me letting them know the second I was finished. I wouldn’t be surprised if he just stood up and walked out of class mid-lecture.

  I slip my phone back into my pocket and step into the ladies’ room. As I wash my hands, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, then I splash a little water on my wan looking face and dry it with a paper towel. It doesn’t make me look much better, but I feel a little more human as I step back out into the hallway.

  I head toward the entry, and I’m rounding a corner when I almost collide with someone walking the other direction. I let out a surprised yelp, and hands reach out to steady me.

  “Sorry!” I blurt. “I—”

  Hazel eyes stop my voice.

  Judge Hollowell gazes down at me, dressed in black robes just like Judge Conway was.

  “Oh, Harlow.” He smiles kindly.

  “Hi,” I choke out.

  “What brings you here?”

  “My mom.” Fuck. My face feels numb. I can’t remember how to breathe. “Her pre-trail hearing was today.”

  His hands are still on my upper arms, and the grip of his long fingers through my sweater burns and freezes at the same time.

  “How did everything go?” he asks, lowering his voice slightly as his brows bunch in concern.

  I’m not sure if he’s really supposed to be asking me about that, and under other circumstances, I might feel grateful to him for taking that risk to check in with me.

  But right now, all I feel is pissed off.

  I just watched my mom shuffle out of a courtroom in handcuffs, and Judge Hollowell wants to know how it went. He probably wants to know if he needs to plant more evidence, or if we’re already losing so badly that he doesn’t need to bother.

  “It… was okay.”

  My lips feel stiff as they form the words, like my body is freezing solid. I take two steps back. I can’t help it. The feel of his hands on me is making my stomach want to turn itself inside out.

  “Good. Good.” He’s still smiling, but watches me carefully as I slide out of his grip. He cocks his head to the side, lowering his voice a little more as he asks, “And what we talked about—has that helped?”

  “I don’t know,” I answer, probably more honestly than I should. But the misery tingeing my voice actually seems to make Hollowell relax.

  He gives me another reassuring smile, reaching out once more to squeeze my upper arm. “It’ll all work out, Harlow. If you need to talk, you can give me a call, all right?”

  “Right. Thanks.”

  I slip my poker face back on, hiding my anger and pain behind it, and Hollowell steps around me to continue on his way. But as soon as he’s gone, my facade crumbles again.

  Dammit, dammit, dammit. That fucker.

  I can barely keep it together. I’ve never felt this combination of helplessness, anger, and fear before. It makes me think of the way wild animals look when they’re trapped, when they’re boxed in with no way out.

  Like they’ll make a way out, even if it kills them.

  “Low? Harlow!”

  I blink and look up in time to see Lincoln and River striding toward me.

  It’s the look in Linc’s eyes that jars me back to reality. He looks worried, and I realize I’m standing in the middle of the hallway, clutching my winter coat in both hands and shaking from head to toe.

  He and River reach me in a few long strides, and instead of questioning me or saying anything at all, they pull me through a nearby door marked STAIRS.

  The door closes behind us with a heavy thud, and Lincoln’s arms come around me immediately from behind, caging me against his body—keeping me from running or fighting or collapsing, I’m not sure which.

  River is in front of me, cradling my face in his hands as his gaze finds mine. “What happened?”

  “I saw—Hollowell.”

  I’m breathing heavily, but it’s like the atmosphere has thinned. I can’t get enough oxygen.

  “Fuck.” He glances from me to Linc, whose chin rests by my temple, my back to his front. When he focuses on me again, his fingers tighten just slightly on my cheeks. “What did he say? Anything?”

  “He asked me how—the trial was going,” I whisper, my voice raspy. “He wanted to know if the advice he gave me—helped.” My head shakes back and forth, pushing against River’s hands. “I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this. He’s gonna find out what I know and go after Mom, go after me. Fuck! I’m a good goddamn poker player, why can’t I do this? Why can’t I bluff?”

  River doesn’t stop me from shaking my head, but he doesn’t release his grasp either, moving with me as his gaze tracks mine. Lincoln’s body behind me is steady and solid, his arms a tight band around my waist.

  “Because this isn’t a poker game, Low,” the boy in front of me says softly. “It’s your life. Your mom’s life. It’s fucking terrifying, and there’s no reason you should be able to handle this. But you’re doing good. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

  I suck in a gasping lungful of air, losing myself in River’s gray irises as I fight for control.

  “That’s it. Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

  Linc’s voice rumbles against my back. I can feel him breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest like a demonstration of how to do it.

  But I’m still unraveling.

  I’m still that trapped animal with no way out. I’m a rat on a sinking ship, scrambling for higher ground over and over as the water rushes up around me.

  I’m drowning.

  Then River drops his head and presses his lips to mine.

  I jerk slightly in surprise, but that little shock lets air flow into my nostrils, flooding my body with desperately needed oxygen. It’s like he flipped a switch, opened a latch, and allowed it in.

  His mouth moves against mine, gentle and patient as always, as my breath finally comes back to me, slipping in and out through the gaps between our lips. My body relaxes in Lincoln’s hold, and I sag against him, the fight-or-flight instinct fading.

  River brushes my hair back from my face and moves to pull away from me, but I chase his lips, not ready to let go yet.

  I need this.

  I need this more than the oxygen he just gave me.

  He takes a step closer, encasing me fully between his body and Linc’s, stroking my hair as he kisses me. Lincoln’s hands splay over my ribs, and I feel his head pressed against mine, his cheek at my temple, so close to the kiss I’m sharing with his friend.

  When my lips finally part from River’s, they’re tingling slightly, and I only pull back enough to let him see my face before I whisper four words.

  “Take me home. Please.”

  9

  River and Linc both pause for a second, still holding me between them.

  It occurs to me that maybe I should’ve been more clear. I’m technically homeless, and I’ve bounced from place to place so much in the past several weeks that I think I’m officially a vagabond.

  B
ut the truth is, I don’t care where they take me.

  As long as they come with me.

  As long as they don’t stop touching me.

  River’s blue-gray gaze finds mine again as Linc nods behind me.

  “Come on.”

  With those words, Lincoln releases his hold on me but catches my hand, as if he knows how much I need the reassurance of his touch. River pulls open the stairwell door and follows us out as we step back into the hallway.

  My gaze scans the corridor as we walk—a prey animal’s instinct to watch for predators—but I don’t see Judge Hollowell again as we make our way toward the large doors at the front of the building.

  Linc’s car is outside, and I sit in the front passenger seat with River behind me. The quiet, brown-haired boy leans forward, so even though we’re not touching, I can feel him through the seat that separates us. Lincoln’s hand rests on my knee, and the car is silent as we drive.

  No music plays. No words are spoken. I watch the snowy landscape pass by outside until I recognize our surroundings.

  Lincoln’s neighborhood.

  When we pull up the drive and into the motor court, a quiet, unspoken promise seems to fill the space of the car. Linc pulls into the motor court and turns off the engine before cutting his gaze to me. His amber eyes gleam like gems as he watches me for a second, a dozen different expressions flitting across his face. Then he turns and slides out of the car.

  It’s almost three o’clock, and the house is quiet as we enter. Gwen is probably in the kitchen, and Audrey Black might be here somewhere, but Linc’s dad is likely at work.

  Not that I’m thinking much about any of them.

  Lincoln’s hand finds my right one again, and River’s fingers interlace with those on my left. We wordlessly head up the stairs, walking single file. After my near panic attack at the courthouse, I feel strangely calm, strangely certain. And I know it’s because of the two hands holding mine, the two boys book ending me like perfect complements to each other.

  We move quietly down the hall toward Lincoln’s bedroom, our steps unhurried. Only when we get inside do the boys release my hands, and the promise that built up between all of us the whole way back from the courthouse seems to swell in the air.

  We come together like water flowing downhill—like there’s no other direction we could go.

  It’s not a violent clash.

  It’s a union.

  Lincoln kisses me, slow and steady and so fucking deep, as River runs his hands over me, gathering the hem of my shirt and lifting gently. I raise my hands up, breaking away from Linc just long enough to let the fabric slide over my head, and then we’re kissing again as more clothes come off.

  I feel weightless and grounded at the same time, as if for once, everything is easy and makes sense.

  When River tugs my jeans down my legs, I step out of them, then shiver at the feel of his lips trailing up the back of my thigh. When he reaches the curve of my ass, he bites down gently, sending jolts of electric energy flicking through me.

  I press harder against Lincoln when that happens, unable to contain my response. He shifts backward momentarily to tug his shirt off, and I help him before my greedy hands fall on his sculpted chest, tracing the fine contours of his muscles all the way down to his stomach, which flexes under my touch.

  Clothes rustle behind me, and I spin in Linc’s arms just like I did in the pool that night, finding River shirtless too. His full, plush lips devour mine as he shoves his pants down, kicking them off without breaking our kiss.

  My bra is unsnapped, my panties slipped over my hips, and then all three of us are stumbling toward the bed, desperation finally beginning to speed up our movements.

  I crawl up onto the soft comforter, but before I can lie down on the mattress, Lincoln’s arms swoop in to wrap around my ribs. Like he did at the courthouse, he holds me tightly to him, my back to his front. Only now, everywhere we’re pressed together, it’s skin-to-skin. I can feel his cock against my ass, hard and ready, and it makes arousal leak from me, slicking my pussy.

  River kneels in front of me, all three of us on our knees, and when I feel his cock against my stomach, something flares to life inside me.

  Certainty.

  Want.

  Before I met these boys, I never knew I wanted this. That I needed it. That I craved it.

  But I do.

  “Fuck, Harlow. I’ve fucking missed you.”

  Linc’s voice is a low growl in my ear, and I nod, draping myself against him as River drops his head to trail his lips across my neck and collarbone, over the swell of my breasts. My nipples peak, and Lincoln and I both watch River draw one pink bud into his mouth, watch him bite down gently, trapping the hard nub between his teeth as he laves it with his tongue.

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  My pussy throbs, and I start to breathe harder and faster, arching my back to give more of myself to the boy in front of me.

  When he finally draws back, my skin is flushed with arousal, and cool air hits my wet nipple, making a shudder move through me.

  Lincoln keeps one arm banded around my ribs as his other moves lower, sliding over the swell of my hip to find the spot at the apex of my thighs. He groans when he slips a finger inside me, teasing my entrance with his touch.

  “Goddammit. You’re so fucking wet,” he whispers.

  River must read his lips, because his gaze moves downward, tracking over my bare chest and stomach to where Linc is touching me. His gray eyes darken like a storm cloud about to unleash a torrent of rain.

  “You’re so beautiful, Harlow. You’re perfect,” Linc mutters in my ear, and I can hear something in his voice that makes my heart tighten in my chest.

  I don’t know quite what it is, but it sounds almost like… awe.

  Like worship.

  Like tenderness.

  Like this means so much more to him than sex.

  His finger slips out of me, his hand trailing back up my body as he kisses the side of my neck, and I don’t know where I find the fucking balls to be so bold, but I slide my own hand down to take the place of his, feeling what he just felt. The arousal these two boys have brought out in me.

  River makes a choked noise when I slide two fingers into my pussy, and I watch him watch me, my breath coming faster as lust and excitement flood me. I’m not exactly shy about sex, but something about touching myself in front of the two of them feels so… intimate.

  I slip my fingers deeper inside my channel, hooking them a little as I withdraw them, gathering the wetness that coats them. Then I reach out and wrap my slick hand around River’s cock, and both boys let out noises that I feel down to the very core of me.

  “Jesus… Oh, shit.”

  River bites his lip, his chest rising sharply with deep breaths.

  I feel Linc fist his cock behind me, and then he finds my pussy and presses into me slowly. It’s not an angle I’m used to, but it feels amazing. I lean forward a little, giving him better access as he begins to thrust shallowly. Wrapping one arm around River’s neck, I kiss him as I stroke his dick with my other hand.

  Lincoln holds onto my hips, keeping me steady as we move together, the three of us shifting and adjusting our rhythms to match each other.

  The harder Lincoln fucks me, the harder I stroke River’s cock, and the harder River kisses me. We’re all spurring each other on, and I’m coming undone, floating away in a blissful haze of sensation.

  I didn’t know.

  Even when I craved it, I didn’t know it would be like this.

  Like being enveloped, overtaken, losing myself in something bigger than just me.

  “Fuck, Harlow. Fuck. Fuck.”

  The room fills with the soft noise of Linc’s hips colliding with my ass, our staccato breaths, our groans and whimpers.

  He feels so big from this angle, like he’s hitting places inside me I’ve never felt before, and when his cock thickens and swells inside me, I choke out a gasp, abandoning River’s lips to
bury my face in his neck.

  “We’ve got you, Low. We’ve always got you.”

  River’s words are soothing, but his voice is just as strained as Linc’s, and his dick feels like a steel rod in my hand.

  He’s close. So close.

  But I’m closer.

  The feel of the two boys surrounding me, filling me, becomes too much to bear, and an orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave. Lincoln curses, slamming into me again and again, and I force my hand to keep moving up and down River’s hard length, channeling all my focus into making him come too.

  I want to feel him come.

  They finish at the same time, and as they do, their bodies converge on mine, pressing me flush between them, not an inch of space between us. River grunts against my hair as his cum coats my stomach, and Lincoln’s cock jerks inside me as he groans out his release.

  For a blissful, perfect moment, we all freeze. Time seems to stop while they hold me tight.

  Then Lincoln slowly pulls out of me, and we all tumble to the bed like we’ve gone boneless. My stomach is a sticky mess, so I lie on my back, my heart tapping out a heavy drumbeat against my ribs.

  Linc props himself up onto his elbows, leaning over to look down at me. A dark shock of hair falls over his forehead, and his amber eyes are almost the color of honey right now, warm and sweet.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. Where did you come from, Low?”

  “Arizona,” I offer weakly, and he chuckles before leaning down to kiss me, soft and slow.

  “You okay, baby?” he murmurs against my lips.

  I don’t know if he’s talking about the sex, Judge Hollowell, my mom’s trial, or all of it, but I nod anyway. Because I am. Nothing is fixed, none of my problems have disappeared, but the trapped animal feeling is fading. I feel less violently desperate.

  Lincoln gets up to grab a towel from the bathroom, and River tucks a strand of hair behind my ears and kisses me until Linc gets back. We clean ourselves up a little, then we all get dressed.