Deceit (Gallows Hill, #1)

by Katelyn Taylor

Skyla

I was three when my mom passed away. Boating accident, I guess.

When it was time for me to start boarding school here in London my father had no qualms about sending me away without a single friend, family or even parting look. Aunt Steph wouldn’t allow it, though. She was somehow able to convince him to allow her to move with me.

Now, I know I sound like the typical dramatic nineteen-year-old with daddy issues, but who could blame me? The man only shows up once a year, every year, on my birthday. He takes me to dinner, makes uncomfortable small talk about my studies and then he’s gone the same night.

We are in the air, slicing through the early morning sky like a hot knife through butter when my father sets down his phone, his signature gaudy silver ring glinting in the light as he looks up at me across from the coffee table between our chairs. “You’re getting married.” I don’t think I hear him correctly, so I wait for him to continue whatever sentence he was actually trying to say. He doesn’t say a word, though. Instead, he just stares at me like I’m the one who is supposed to respond. “I beg your pardon?” I ask, in the most demure voice I can muster. “You’re engaged to be married. The date has been set, June twenty-third.” I blink at him slowly, doing my best to keep my tone light and my question simple. “And, who am I expected to marry?” “Asher Putnam.”

“I’m too young to get married. I’m only nineteen. I just turned nineteen. I can’t get married, especially to a man I haven’t even met.” “I’m aware, Skyla, which is exactly why you will spend as much time with him during your time at Gallows Hill. I’ve arranged your schedules to coincide as much as possible, and his father has ensured he will stay on campus so that you two can get to know one another.” I pause at that. “Wait, I’m not staying at the house?” He rolls his eyes like I’m being stupid. “Of course not. You will be staying in a dorm, same as all of the other students.”

“Good. Be the respectable young woman you were raised to be, get to know your fiancé and trust no one else. The Putnam men are good people. They will protect you.”

My cage must look so pretty to others on the outside, all gilded and shiny. Make no mistake, though, bars are bars. I’ll never be free to make my own choices, to live my own life. My fate was sealed the moment I was born, and my birth certificate signed with the last name Parris.

My father assured me that Asher would be waiting in my dorm to welcome me and introduce himself. I can’t lie that as I stand in the elevator, watching as each level lights up, my anxiety ratchets. What will he be like? Is he kind? Does he want to be in this engagement or is he being forced like I am?

My eyes widen and my mouth drops at the sight before me. I expected your average dorm room with a few extra amenities inside. After all, my father went here, as well as my mother and aunt Steph. She told me a lot about the school, how it was grand in ways other schools could never be. I assumed she meant the historic gothic architecture of the buildings outside that more closely resemble a castle, or maybe the sprawling land it sits on that seems to go for miles. I had no idea she was talking about plush leather couches, full kitchens and what looks to be an en suite to my left. I also didn’t expect to walk into my new dorm and find a naked woman bent over a queen sized bed as a man’s bare ass thrusts into her savagely.

The girl turns her head to look around the man, giving me a satisfied grin that makes my stomach turn. I spin on my heel as I head for the door. Obviously I was given the wrong room number. I’m stopped in my tracks almost immediately though, when a deep voice calls out to me. “Where are you going?” I don’t turn around, continuing to stare at the doorway as I speak. “Sorry. I must have the wrong room. I’m Skyla Parris.”

“Stay,” he practically commands. “You,” he says, as I glance behind me only to find him staring at the girl beneath him. “Get dressed and get the fuck out of here.” She does as he says happily, smiling the entire time she slips on her dress and heels. Running a hand through her hair, she leans in to press a kiss to his lips, but he easily dodges her, gripping her arm in his hand as he escorts her to the open doorway, slamming the door in her face.

“Why are you staring at me?” I startle at his question, fastening my eyes to the floor as I respond. “I’m sorry.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment before he begins circling me, much like a predator does to his prey. “So, you’re the Parris princess.” I frown at that, my eyes tracking him as he continues to slowly circle me. “What? I’m not a princess. I’m—” “You are on this campus, Princess, and I’m the king.”

“So, on this campus, I’m your daughter?” He pauses for a moment before his face is slashed with irritation. “Fucking smartass. My father told me you were a good girl. Quiet, obedient. Guess he was wrong.” His father? So this must be— “Asher?” I question. “Is that a question?” He asks with a lifted eyebrow.

Fire rages in his chocolate brown eyes before he reaches into his pocket, throwing a jewelry box at my chest. I make no move to catch it, allowing it to fall to the ground as he sneers. “Put it on and don’t take it off,” before he’s storming out of my room, slamming the door shut with a shake that rattles the walls around me.

“Are you sexually active?” I blink at her for several seconds. “Do you really need to know that?” She gives me a sympathetic smile as she nods. “University policy.” I stare at her for several more seconds, before I gently shake my head. She smiles at that, like being a virgin is something to be proud of, before she quickly types away on her keyboard. Then she rifles through a medical cabinet, grabbing a needle and other supplies. “What is that?” I ask. “Birth control,” she says easily, as she begins readying the syringe. “Uhm, no thank you. I’m good.” “It’s not optional, sweetie. Every student is tested for STDs when they return from each break and every female student is given birth control each quarter.” “Even if I’m not having sex?” I ask dubiously, instantly regretting it when she gives me a pinched look like I’m irritating her. “Yes,” she says, before she gestures to my arm. “Roll up your sleeve, please.”

“Well, hello." My eyes go up and up and up, until they land on a guy with blond hair, bright green eyes and a blinding white smile. His skin is perfectly tanned, like he spent all summer outside. His white polo shirt and tan slacks make him look like every bit the trust fund baby he no doubt is. I can’t deny a fluttering that runs through me, as his eyes obviously rake over me like I’m a five course feast before him. “Hello,” I smile politely, doing my best to keep my tone even under this man’s stare . “What’s your name, babygirl?” “Skyla Parris, and you?” I ask, with an outstretched hand. He takes my hand in his, practically dwarfing it. He wraps his other hand around mine, lifting my knuckles to his lips as he does.

“Could you be any more desperate, Walcott?” He turns his head to the side slightly to make eye contact with Maggie before he smirks. “Aw, you scared I’m gonna swipe your girl out from under you, Bartlett?” She gives him a challenging look, draping her arm over my shoulder and hauling me into her side. “Not in the slightest.” Liam bites his lower lip, a flash of silver catching my eyes as his tongue traces over his lip before it’s gone in the next minute. “Fuck, please tell me I can watch?” he practically groans. Maggie chokes out a laugh as she shakes her head. “Not on your fucking life.”

“That’s Liam Walcott, Gallows Hill's resident flirt. I’ve heard he’s slept with almost every single willing girl on the entire campus. All have nothing but glowing reviews, I guess.” “You guess? So you aren’t one to fall under his spell?” I tease. She snorts, squeezing her hold on me a little tighter. “Definitely not, he doesn’t have the right plumbing for me.” My eyebrows dip at that, as she stares at me in what seems like waiting before she speaks again. “I prefer women,” she hedges. Oh, well now I feel slow. “Well, how could you not? We’re beautiful and we don’t smell half as bad as men,” I shrug.

Feeling a set of eyes on me, I turn to see Maggie staring at me with an amused grin. “What?” I ask. “Nothing, you just proved my point,” she laughs. “But, if you ever get sick of these men, let me know. I eat pussy way better than all of them put together,” she says, with a wink that makes me laugh.

I’m not sure how long I’m sitting there, enjoying the feeling of the water wrapping around every inch of submerged flesh when I get the feeling that someone is watching me. My eyes fly open, looking up to see a man staring at me. He’s tall, at least 6’3”, his shoulders are wide, and his waist tapered. He’s wearing a black polo shirt with the school’s crest on it and a pair of almost charcoal dress pants.

I make my way through the hall before pulling open the door to the pool. I’m smiling to myself, excited to have the pool to myself, except I’m not the only one here. There is somebody already in the pool. I can’t tell who it is, not like I really know anyone here anyways. All I can see is a back covered in what looks like tattoos. They stretch down the length of both of his arms and his back, stopping just above his swimsuit. His moves are so fluid, so graceful. He practically glides through the water like he’s a part of it, as if it was as easy as simply existing. He’s making the breaststroke look that easy at least, as he rises up and down from the water, taking only enough breath to push him one more stroke. I have to admit that he’s incredibly fast as well, I’m dumbstruck just watching him go.

I walk past him, keeping my head high and not having a care in the world that he’s watching me as I do a perfect dive into the opposite side of the pool. Instead of doing a warm-up lap or jumping straight into a workout, I dive down until my belly scrapes against the bottom before I cross my legs and sit. It doesn’t matter that I can’t physically breathe down here, metaphorically, emotionally, spiritually, whatever you want to call it, I finally have breath poured into my lungs. A soft peace falls over me, and the stillness of the water heals something inside me that I’m not sure is even broken. I’ve missed this. So much.

Unfortunately the next thing I know, two strong arms are wrapping around me, hauling me to the surface. When we break through, I inhale a greedy breath, allowing my chest to heave as my breathing begins to normalize. Once it does, I’m furious. I spin around to face my ‘savior’ splashing a large amount of water into his face. His goggles are still off and I get him right in the eye. I wish I could be sorry, but I’m not.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You trying kill yourself down there?” I roll my eyes at him. “Did it look like I was trying to kill myself? No. I was just taking a moment. I was about to come up for air.” “Whatever you say, Siren,” he scoffs.

“You again,” a deep voice rumbles from across the pool, forcing my eyes to land on the figure above. Coach Ronan is wearing basketball shorts today and a sleeveless tank top. His forehead is dotted with sweat, and it looks like he just got done with a run if his shoes are anything to go off of.

“When was the last time you trained?” he asks, his tone curious with no judgment. I glance up to him carefully before I shrug. “Five years.” His eyebrows knit together. “You haven’t swam in five years?” “No, I have,” I say. “Just not in a serious sense. Not outside of doing laps in my friend’s pool.” “Well, shit. With a time like that and virtually no training in over five years, that’s impressive.” “Really?” I ask. “What are your other girls’ times?”

“You should start training again. You could be really good.” I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face, even if I try. I do try to bite it back, but it’s no use. “Why are you trying to hide your smile?” he asks, that half smile of his own tugging at his lips. “I’ve just never heard that before. It’s nice,” I say softly, cringing at how insecure I sound. His hand reaches out to my cheek, cupping it tentatively, like he’s giving me space to pull away. Yeah, like that’ll happen. I lean into his touch and his thumb pulls at my lip, freeing it from my teeth. “You should hear it more.”

“Are all teachers as caring as you?” Something flickers behind his eyes as he lowers his voice, still holding my face as he does. “If any of them are to you, you let me know.” With that, he pulls away, standing up to his full height as he turns on his heel.

“It means, if a teacher is looking at you the way I am, you should definitely report them.”

“Doesn’t that mean I should report you?” I test. He shrugs. “You could, but I’m a coach, not a teacher.” “Is there a difference?” “Definitely,” he nods. I let out a laugh at that as I nod. “I’m not sure my father would see things that way.” “I don’t know, I can be a pretty charming guy,” he says with a smirk. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. Regardless, you’re definitely too old to be flirting with students, Coach.” “Who said I was flirting?” he asks, that flirtatious smile speaking volumes.

“Me,” I smile. “Yeah? You, Miss…” He trails off, waiting for me to fill in my last name no doubt. “Parris,” I fill in. His teasing smirk drops in a moment and his eyes widening as he takes a quick step away from me, like my touch has burned him.

“Your name is Skyla Parris?” I frown at his lightning quick change of character as I nod. “Yes, is something wrong with that?” He shakes his head once. “No, I just didn’t realize. You’re engaged to Asher Putnam.” I roll my eyes at the reminder. “Does everyone on this campus know that?” “Yes,” he answers quickly,

“Happiness is just a fairy tale dream. Even if you think you have it, think you can taste it, you’ll wake up soon enough and it will fade from your mind, until you can’t remember it at all.”

“In the lack of happiness or light, or anything relatively good, there is always hope. It’s always sitting there, idly by, ready for you to take it. You just have to be brave enough to.”

Asher

I’m sleeping, or at least trying to, but some annoying fuck keeps pounding on the door. Finally, having enough of it I drag myself out of bed, hopping over the passed out girl beside me before I open the door. I expect it to be Liam, he’s about the only obnoxious fucker out there that would have the balls to bang on my door so early in the morning. To my surprise, it isn’t my best friend but instead, my uncle. He looks down at me, sneering as he looks away. “Christ. Can you at least have the decency to get dressed before you open the door?” “Why should I care? You’re entering my space.” I shrug as I leave the door open, strolling back inside unapologetically naked, before I jump over the girl beside me and land on the bed.

Ronan shakes his head at me in what looks like disappointment. Then again, I think that’s just his face. He’s disappointed in most shit nowadays. “Dude, you’re engaged now. You can’t be doing this shit,” Ronan chastises. I choke out a laugh as I shake my head and throw my arms over my head. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, and we both know that.” He levels me with an unimpressed look. “Within reason, Asher. Your dad is not going to like it if he hears you’re publicly making a fool out of your fiancée, out of your arrangement. You have to be more discreet.”

“So, what’s your fiancée like?” Ronan asks after a minute or so. I scrunch up my face before I shrug. “She’s hot. Seems a bit too prudish, but I’m sure I can fuck it out of her one day. Definitely not who I would have chosen.” Ronan makes a face, before looking towards the wall and shaking his head before looking back at me. “Who would you have chosen?” he asks. “Does it matter? We both know I don’t get jack shit say in all of this.” He shrugs as I mull over his question.

Bridgette Brenton is the most annoying fuck I’ve ever dealt with. I took her virginity about three years ago and she still chases after me like a bitch in heat. I swear to god, I could tell the woman to jump into a lake of fire and she would do it, gladly. Sometimes I feel something close to empathy for her. She truly believes that one day I’ll wake up and realize I’ve always loved her, when the truth is, I can hardly stand her. The only reason I keep her on the rotation is because she sucks dick like a goddamn porn star. She does come in handy for things other girls wouldn’t be willing to do as well, like greet my fiancé butt ass naked while getting fucked on her bed. I smirk to myself when I think about the shocked look on the Princess’ face.

Ronan is the only member of an Elder family that has made it unscathed thus far. He was engaged when he graduated from Gallows Hill like every man typically is, but he was able to slither his way out of it. Lucky fucker.

“I’ve heard she’s a nice girl,” Ronan says, assumingly talking about the Princess again. “I’m sure she is. Gonna suck for her when she figures out I’m not a nice guy.” “You sure she doesn’t already know that?” Ronan asks with a dubious look. I grin at him. “If she doesn’t now, she will soon.”

It’s Saturday morning and I’m sitting on the cement steps of the courtyard with Liam and some especially clingy women when a fuming blonde tornado comes tearing up to me. “What the hell is this!” she seethes as she throws a crumpled up piece of paper at my head. I don’t flinch, allowing it to hit me and roll to the floor. I don’t need to look to know what it is. “Looks like a note,” I draw out casually.

“To my dearest fiancée, I hope your dreams are as wet as your pillow.” He grins before looking at me, his eyes searching mine as he shakes his head. “You didn’t.” I shrug casually, doing my best to bite back a smile. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Too proud with that iron clenched jaw, not allowing a single weakness to show. Alright, I’ll do the honors for her. “I left her a little….morning delight on her pillow this morning.” It takes the slow women around me several seconds before realization hits them. They all begin hysterically laughing and Liam starts up once again. Swear to god, the guy is like a goddamn hyena. My eyes don’t leave the princess as the laughter grows, her hardened exterior softening with each passing second. A tear even slips out of the corner of her eye, before she discreetly banishes it away. Damn, she’s not nearly as tough as I was anticipating. That’s a shame for her. She won’t last two months at Gallows Hill. Then again, maybe that could work in my favor.

Guess she’ll probably be upset when she finds out that the picture of the note, the cum soaked pillow and her drooling face was mass sent to every student enrolled. Oops.

Skyla

Maggie showed me the picture, that’s actually what woke me up. Her hurried knocks at my door, followed by the humiliating photo of me asleep, drool coming out of my mouth beside my cum stained pillow and Asher’s lovely note. To say it’s been a terrible start to the day would be an understatement.

a familiar figure comes from what looks like the bathrooms, nearly knocking me over in the process. His hands quickly stabilize me, his bright blue eyes pinning me in place as he looks at me. At first, surprise is written all over his face. Then, concern covers his features as his eyes flick over me. “What’s wrong?” Ronan asks. I do my best to smile, shaking my head as if everything was right as rain, but he isn’t buying it. “Your mascara is all over your face, Skyla.”

He dunks the napkins in water before handing them to me. I hesitate to take them for a moment. “I don’t have any makeup with me to re-do it.” He frowns. “So?” “So, everyone will see my bare face. They’ll think I’m some hot-mess girl who doesn’t care about her appearance.” “And black tear-streaks don’t say that?”