The Blackstone Prep Academy Duet

  Reflections

  ◆◆◆

  Copyright 2020 Monica Clayton

  Published by M.E. Clayton

  All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The entire content is a product of the author’s imagination and all names, places, businesses, and incidences are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), places or occurrences, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without the express written consent from the author, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Formatting: Smashwords

  Cover: Adobe Stock

  Warning: This book contains sexual situations and other adult themes. Recommended for 18 years of age and over.

  Table of Contents

  ◆◆◆

  Author's Note

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Playlist

  Prologue

  1. Grace

  2. Styx

  3. Grace

  4. Styx

  5. Grace

  6. Styx

  7. Grace

  8. Styx

  9. Grace

  10. Styx

  11. Grace

  12. Styx

  13. Grace

  14. Styx

  15. Grace

  16. Styx

  17. Grace

  18. Styx

  19. Grace

  20. Styx

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books

  Contact Me

  Author’s Note

  ◆◆◆

  Just a couple of things before I let you go and get your read on. While I am doing my best to work with better editing and proofreading software, all my books are solo, independent works. I write my books, proofread my books, edit my books, create the covers, etc. I have one beta who gives me feedback on my stories, but other than that, all my books are independent projects.

  That being said, I apologize, in advance, for the typos, grammar inconsistencies, or any other mistakes I may make. Since writing is strictly a hobby for me, I haven’t looked into commitments in regard to publishers, editors, etc. My hope is that my stories are enjoyable enough that a few mistakes, here and there, can be overlooked. However, if you’re a stickler for grammar, my books are probably not for you.

  Also, I am an avid reader-I mean an AVID reader. I love to read above any other hobby. However, the only downside to my reading obsession is when I fall in love with a series, but I have to wait for the additional books to come out. And because I feel that disappointment down to my soul, when I started publishing my works, I vowed to publish all books in my series all at once. No waiting here…LOL. Now, the exception to that will be if enough readers request additional stories based off the standalone, such as in Facing the Enemy. At that point, if I decide to move forward with a requested series, I will make sure all additional books are available all at once. As much as this is a hobby for me, I am writing these books for all of you, as well as myself.

  Thank you, for everything!

  Acknowledgements

  ◆◆◆

  The first acknowledgement will always be my husband. There aren’t enough words to express my gratitude for having this man in my life. There is a little bit of him in every hero I dream up, and I can’t thank God enough for bringing him into my life. Thirty years, and still going strong!

  Second, there’s my family; my daughter, my son, my grandchildren, my sister, and my mother. Family is everything, and I have one of the best. They are truly the best cheerleaders I could ever ask for, and I never forget just how truly blessed I am to have them in my life.

  And, of course, there’s Kamala. This woman is not only my beta and idea guinea pig, she’s one of my closest friends. She’s been with me from the beginning of this journey, and we’re going to ride this thing to the end. Kam’s the encouragement that sparked it all, folks.

  And, finally, I’d like to thank everyone who’s purchased, read, reviewed, shared, and supported me and my writing. Thank you so much for helping make this dream a reality and a happy, fun one at that! I cannot say thank you enough!

  Dedication

  ◆◆◆

  For My Readers –

  Every new story, every new character, every new adventure is for you.

  Playlist

  ◆◆◆

  Reflections

  Something Like This – The Chainsmokers

  Breakdown – Mariah Carey

  Lately – Samantha Mumba

  Drive – Incubus

  Aerials – Systems Of A Down

  Wild World – Cat Stevens

  Good Is Good – Sheryl Crow

  Right Here Waiting – Staind

  Loser – Three Doors Down

  Nobody’s Fool – Cinderella

  Hemorrhage (In My Hands) – Fuel

  If You Leave – OMD

  Hard Habit To Break – Chicago

  One Right Thing – Marshmello ft. Kane Brown

  Anymore – Travis Tritt

  Mirrors

  Turn The Lights Down Low – Max

  Where You Belong – The Weeknd

  I Shall Believe – Sheryl Crow

  Heaven – Julia Michaels

  This Kiss – Faith Hill

  You And Me – Lifehouse

  Jealous – Nick Jonas

  Unforgettable – French Montana

  Breathe – Faith Hill

  Cross Me – Ed Sheeran ft. Chance the Rapper

  Boom Clap – Charli XCX

  Talking Body – Tove Lo

  My Love – Justin Timberlake ft. T.I.

  Falls On Me – Fuel

  Hanging By A Moment – Lifehouse

  Prologue

  “Wha…what do you mean?” she asked, her voice ringing with the sound of heartbreak.

  “It’s not my fucking problem,” he replied. “How many times do I have to say it?”

  “But…it’s yours.”

  “Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “And how in the hell would I know that?”

  “Well…because the timing-”

  “Look, Leah, you can say it’s mine all you want, but I’ve seen you spread your legs for other guys,” he said cruelly. “It could be anyone’s.”

  Her voice took on a pained quality that was uncomfortable to hear. “I…Seth, I…I only did that because you asked me to,” she reminded him. “I…I never would have ever done something like that, but you…you said it was something you…”

  He sounded so casual, it bordered on nauseating. “Says you, Leah. How do I know that’s not a regular thing for you?”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered incredulously. “You can’t honestly think that, Seth. You’re the only guy I’ve ever been with before…before that.” Her voice was becoming hysterical. “You know you took my virginity.”

  His cold cockiness knew no bounds. “I knew your pussy was cherry, but what about your ass? If those couple of weekends are any indication, it’s hard to say if your ass was cherry before I came along.”

  “You sonofabitch.” Her words were harsh, but her tone was pure anguish. “I did that because I love yo
u, Seth. And…and you said you loved me. You said…you were supposed to break up with her and be with me.”

  “See, that’s your problem, Leah,” he said tauntingly. “You were so eager to fit in, you failed to use common fucking sense.”

  “What?”

  “For all your excellent skills with a hard dick, you should have had enough sense to know that you’d still never compare to Grace Hale. Common sense should have told you I was only fucking you because Grace won’t give it up.”

  “Oh, God…”

  He continued as if he wasn’t aware of the emotional cruelty spilling from his lips. “Unlike you, Grace has self-respect. Even after eight months of dating, she’s still keeping her legs closed because she knows her worth. She’s fucking Grace Hale, for fuck’s sake.”

  “It…it was all a lie…” Leah mumbled, not forming a question because it really wasn’t one.

  “I needed my dick wet, and because you’ve always been so eager to fit in, I knew you were perfect for what I needed until Grace gave it up,” he told her, not caring about the damage he was doing to her. His laugh was pure evil. “Hell, you were what we all needed. Adams and Fenway loved pumping you full of cock.”

  “You bastard,” she cried out brokenly. “You-”

  “I’m not going to let you pin this on me, Leah,” Seth continued. “Get rid of it or your life will be a living hell.”

  “The baby is yours, asshole,” she snapped. “And-” Leah’s yelp was a sure sign of some physicality.

  “That may very well be, Leah,” Seth conceded, his voice tight with anger. “However, what would your parents say, your sisters, your friends, the school…what would they all say when you’re forced to have to issue paternity tests for three different guys? Oh, wait, four. I almost forgot about Linden.” Leah’s sobs were no longer silent. “What would everyone think once we had to tell them why you needed a paternity test for four different guys? Let’s not forget the videos that would back up my claims.”

  Leah’s voice sounded hollow and defeated. “You’re a vile creature, Seth Burns. You’re sure to burn in Hell one day.”

  “Not today, though, Leah,” he taunted. “Today, I’m going to go about my life without any interference from you and your bullshit. Get rid of the problem and stay the fuck away from me.”

  “You can’t do this,” she argued, still trying to hold on to some control. “You can’t.”

  “If I lose Grace over this, I will ruin you and your entire family, Leah,” Seth threatened.

  I couldn’t listen anymore. My stomach was on the verge of purging itself.

  But that’s what you get for eavesdropping, I suppose.

  Chapter 1

  Grace~

  I sat in my car, facing the imposing stone structure that was Blackstone Prep Academy. I watched as students laughed and smile as they made their way into the building. It was exactly as you’d expect an expensive prep school to look like.

  It looked like a goddamn fortress.

  The walls were high with stained-glass windows and actual turrets. The entire structure was made of stone, showcasing just how much it would have cost to build the monstrosity. The school was entirely too large for the number of students who attended, but the school offered classes in damn near everything you could think of. Wealthy parents everywhere donated obscene amounts of money to Blackstone to groom their children for whatever they needed them to be groomed for. So, if Blackstone needed to create a classroom and hire a teacher for organic turtle farming because your family stumbled upon a mass fortune nurturing turtles organically, well then, that’s what Blackstone Prep Academy did.

  It catered to the wealthy.

  The only magnanimous thing that could be said about Blackstone Prep was that it allowed scholarship students to attend. They also allowed anyone who met the testing requirements to attend, as well, as long as they were able to pay the astronomical tuition that rival that of ivy league colleges.

  There was also a separate dorm area for students who transferred in from other states. Mostly, Blackstone’s student body were kids from Dayton, California. Or, more specifically, us kids from the gated community of Wakefield. Take Atherton, California and multiply it by a thousand, and that was Wakefield.

  And my family was at the top of the Wakefield food chain.

  My father, Sterling Hale The Fourth, was CEO of Hale Securities & Investments. Rumor was that he was brilliant and had the mind of a computer and the vision of a psychic. His financial predictions were legendary, supposedly. And it must be true for my parents to have the type of money they had. I just never bothered to learn what all my father was about. For all the progress women have made in the past fifty years, a female-this one in particular-would never take over Hale Securities & Investments.

  My mother, Serena Hale, was exactly what you think she’d be upon hearing her name. I’d liken her to a delicate southern belle had she been from The South, but she wasn’t. She was from Hillsborough, California. Serena Hale was the wealthy socialite that’s been clichéd to death. Including making sure her naturally brown hair never showed its roots. As far as she was concerned, she was blonde and that was that.

  My parents were casually neglectful, but that’s what nannies, housekeepers, and cooks were for, right? It wasn’t wrong if everyone was doing it, and every parent in Wakefield was doing it. It was our way of life. When it was all you’ve ever known, there was no right or wrong; it was just the way we were raised. Hell, we had started out life already registered to a preschool my parents had to enroll us into while my mother was still pregnant with us. That’s how pretentious our lives were.

  I lived a life where, if a girl came to school with the latest handbag, another girl would automatically show her up with a handbag that hadn’t even been available to the public yet. And then, I would come along and show them both up with a handbag that was custom-made and commissioned to be one-of-a-kind.

  Yep.

  I was that asshole.

  My clothes were designer originals. My shoes came right off the runways. My hair, fingernails, and toenails had standing appointments with the best. My car cost more than most people’s homes. I only hung out with the top ten percent of Blackstone’s wealthiest, and I’ve only had one boyfriend because no one had been good enough for Grace Hale if they hadn’t checked off all the boxes I had been raised to believe they had needed to check off.

  I have walked Blackstone’s hallways without a care in the world except for my grades. And even then, who cared? No one would bat an eyelash if any of us females just went on to marry some rich prick and became trophy wives. Socialites didn’t require intelligence. Sad, but true.

  For seventeen years, my life has been a bad, tasteless combination of every Housewives reality show ever produced and every teenage fake reality show aired on television. I knew reality television was fake, but…sometimes…every now and again…there were these pockets of truth in those shows. The conceit and the snobbery were real.

  I ought to know.

  The hallways of Blackstone were littered with the conceited and snobby. I’d have to say London Addison was probably the only female at Blackstone who didn’t get swept up in the politics of social standings and what people thought of her. Granted, she was a knockout and started at the top, much like I had, but I’d never seen any cracks in her armor. If London had any weaknesses, I’ve yet to see them.

  On top of coming from a wealthy family, London had been blessed in the gene pool as well. She and I were the same height at five-foot-four but that was where our similarities ended. London had lush, long brown hair and dark blue eyes. Her body was also perfection with her slim build that made her look dainty and feminine.

  London Addison was also my best friend.

  We’d been friends since the fourth grade, and there were many times I wondered why she was content to follow and not lead. Not that she was a follower, because she wasn’t. London just was never one to lead the charge. For a lack of a better phrase, she
was content on being the supporting actress to my starring role when she could have easily been the lead in anything we’ve ever done.

  Another thing we differed on was boys. I liked the idea of steady relationships. I liked the idea of true love. I liked the idea that someone could love you above money, status, and power. London believed in those things, too, she just didn’t believe it in while a person was still in high school. She wanted to taste all the colors of the rainbow before she settled down. The funny thing about that is I haven’t seen her taste many colors since we’ve been old enough to date. She’s hooked up with a couple of guys, here and there, but her virginity was every bit intact as mine was.

  And when I saw her headed my way, I finally unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of my car. I adjusted my backpack over my left shoulder and click the key fob to lock my car.

  “Hey,” she greeted, all smiles and teenage beautiful.

  “Hey.” We fell in step together as we headed towards the fortress that was Blackstone. “Sorry I missed your text last night. I fell asleep studying.”

  London chuckled. “I figured.” We walked silently for a few seconds before she said, “You missed a hell of a party Friday.”

  “Aren’t they pretty much all the same these days?” I’d stopped running with the partying crowd a few weeks back.

  “Pretty much,” she agreed. “But this party had Rochelle Kent being dumped in front of God and everyone.”

  I winced. “Ouch.”

  London nodded. “Ouch, indeed.” She reached out to pull the one of the front doors open. “Milo was talking to Chanel Eaton, quite innocently might I add, and Rochelle flew into her usual jealous rage.” The door swung closed behind us as I looked over at her. “I guess he’d finally had enough because he dumped her ass in front of everyone.”

  I shook my head. “I never understood that girl,” I muttered. “Milo’s always been devoted to her.”