TWISTED (Tanglewood Elites #2) Read online

  TWISTED

  Tanglewood Elites #2

  Ivy Rush

  Contents

  TWISTED

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Copyright © 2020 by Ivy Rush

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  TWISTED

  (Tanglewood Elites #2)

  Chapter 1

  CASSIDY

  “How do I look?” Amabel asks me the next morning as we mount the steps to the liberal arts building.

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s wearing her uniform -- just like everyone else-- but she’s taken a blue cardigan and knotted it around her waist, pulled her hair back with a headband, and is wearing knee socks and a pair of black Mary Janes.

  “You look great,” I say honestly. “How do I look?”

  Amabel sighs. “Honestly? You looked better yesterday.”

  I shake my head and laugh. “When my uniform barely covered my ass?”

  Amabel nods sagely. “You should never be afraid to show off your ass, Cassidy.”

  I laugh again, but we’re at the top of the steps now, surrounded by a bunch of students, the air heavy with first-day anticipation. I tug nervously at my skirt. I’m wearing a new uniform, one that actually fits me.

  When I opened the door to my room early this morning to head out for my room, there was a plain white box sitting in the hall outside of our suit.

  I stared at it for a moment, not sure I should open it, but in the end, curiosity won out. Inside perfectly folded, ironed and creased, was a new uniform in a size eight.

  A small piece of cream card stock rested on top of it, and my hands shook as I’d reached for it, the same way they’d had last night.

  But this note was signed.

  Dear Cassidy,

  I heard that you might need a new uniform, so I called my friend whose mom works in Student Affairs, and had her find this one. I hope it fits!

  All my best,

  Ashley Townsend

  Ashley Townsend. Raider’s older sister. I remembered her from the summer, sitting in the front row of the courtroom, her pale blond hair shiny under the lights.

  I’d fingered the material of the uniform and wondering what the catch was, if this was some kind of trick. But the uniform seemed fine, and in the end, my desire for modesty won out over my suspicion, and I’d put it on.

  Amabel and I head down the hall toward our respective classrooms. It’s only 8:15 and yet the building is already swarmed with students. I’d always heard that in college, it was almost unheard of to sign up for classes that started before ten am, but at Tanglewood, it seemed as if all the classes started early.

  “Philosophy 100 with Professor Brown,” Amabel reads off her schedule and frowns. “How can a philosophy professor have the last name of Brown? It’s so pedestrian.” She peers at my schedule. “What do you have?”

  “Social Awareness In The Creative World,” I say.

  Amabel wrinkles her nose. “Ugh.”

  I shrug. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Everyone at Tanglewood has to take a Social Awareness class – I’m not sure exactly what it’s going to entail, but it’s probably something that will make it look as if we’ve all atoned for our sins, while making sure that the rich kids who go here don’t have to do anything that will make them feel too guilty about their privilege.

  “Good luck,” Amabel says. She spots her friends, those three girls she knows from camp, and takes off down the hall calling their names.

  I slip into my classroom, which I’m surprised to find isn’t a lecture hall, but a small room with seating for about fifteen.

  The smooth wooden desks are arranged in a circle, about half of them are already taken. At the front of the room, a man with dark hair and a salt and pepper beard stands at a lectern, his eyes down, peering through wire-rimmed glasses at something in a binder.

  I pick a seat on the curve of the circle, making sure to leave at least a couple of chairs on each side of me empty.

  The rest of the students in the room are bunched together in a loose knot, talking excitedly. I shake my head. Do rich kids all know each other? Do they all belong to some kind of secret rich kid club?

  I pull out my plain pink spiral notebook and set it on my desk, trying to ignore the iPads that are sitting in front of most of the other students. So what if I have to go old school? I read a study that said that actually writing things down with a pen makes you much more likely to comprehend than if you --

  “Raider!” a girl screams. “Ohmigod, you’re in this class? Come sit with us!” I look up just in time to see the blond girl from last night, the one who was talking to Raider at the party, slide her arm through Raider’s as he walks through the door.

  He doesn’t reply but allows himself to be dragged toward a seat.

  I avert my eyes, even though I know he’s staring at me.

  Sure enough, a second later, my phone buzzes with a text.

  What happened to your slut uniform, Cass?

  Chapter 2

  RAIDER

  “And then Cora said that I had the best body of all of them, and I said that was because I’ve gone keto and started working out. You know, with weights?” Ava -- or is it April? I can never remember this chick’s name -- wrinkles her nose and then quickly adds, “But not heavy lifting. I don’t want to get bulky. Or buff like you.” She reaches over and squeezes my bicep, and I wrench away from her, annoyed.

  Not that this derails her. She rallies immediately, launching into some story about someone named Cameron, who I guess I’m supposed to know, and something banal that happened on his boat this summer.

  The whole time, I’m starting at Cass.

  She’s sitting across the room in a uniform that now miraculously fits her. Even so, I can still see those long tan leg and the curve of her full tits under the snugness of her white button-up shirt. I remember the way her nipples turned into two hard little gumdrops once I pulled the straps of her dress down last night, and my cock twitches.

  I pull out my phone and text her, watching as she reads it, biting her bottom lip and furrowing her brow as she replies.

  Your sister sent it to me.

  My sister sent it to her? Why the hell would Ashley send Cass a new uniform? My father made his wishes explicitly clear – make sure Cass doesn’t talk by letting her know our family is not to be fucked with. Sending her a uniform seems ridiculously friendly. Unless Ashley’s sabotaged it in some way? I glance back at Cass, but the uniform seems fine.

  “So do you want to?” Ava’s asking next to me.

  I have no idea what the hell she’s said, so my first instinct is to say no. Nothing good can come from saying yes to a chick like that.

  But before I can, the professor steps up to the lectern and starts to speak. Something about how this is the most important class we’re going to take at Tanglewood and blah blah blah bullshit.

  He’s on the youngish side – maybe thirty or so – and I can already tell he’s the douchebag. The kind who takes himself way too seriously and thinks he’s cool because he wears Warby Parkers.

  I do my best to tune him out while I text my sister.

  Why the hell did you send Cassidy Witherspoon a new uniform?

  The reply comes almost immediately.

  I saw her picture on the Tanglewood website – that uniform was completely tragic.

  Leave her alone.r />
  RELAX, Raider. God, we don’t want to terrorize the poor girl.

  Yes, I think. We do.

  The door opens and someone steps into the classroom.

  “Sorry I’m late,” a guy’s voice says, sounding sheepish.

  The professor glares as if he’s been interrupted giving the Gettysburg address instead of some bullshit introduction to a pointless class at a sham college. “And your name is?”

  “Tyler Walsh.”

  My hand tightens around my phone. It’s that douchebag from last night. The one who was talking to Cass at the party, the one she said was going to get her a job.

  Sure enough, he takes the seat next to her, and I have to keep myself from rushing over there and beating the shit out of him.

  I quickly text her again.

  I still have your panties.

  Last night, after I went back up to my room, I tried to resist all thoughts of her. But I couldn’t. She was everywhere, in my mind and lingering on my skin, the smell of her against my shirt.

  I was horny for her all night, and the list of girls in my phone wasn’t going to cut it. I ended up jerking off into Cass’s panties while I imagined her spread out on my bed before me, her legs spread as I took her virginity.

  Stop texting me, Raider. I’m trying to pay attention.

  Don’t you want them back?

  Yes.

  Then you’ll have to earn them.

  I click over to the Tanglewood Academy website, looking for the picture Ashley was talking about.

  Sure enough, there’s a picture of Cass – well, not really a picture of Cass. She’s in the background of a picture of a bunch of people walking into their dorms, arms linked, smiling happily. It’s captioned “Moving Day At Tanglewood.”

  Cass is almost out of frame, bent over her phone, her face turned from the camera. The back of her skirt is so high that you can almost see the bottom of her ass cheeks.

  I hold the picture with my thumb and save it to my phone.

  Cass still hasn’t texted me back, and I look up just in time to see that the professor has stopped talking, and that asshole Tyler is now pushing his desk right up to hers.

  “Do you want to be partners?” Ava is asking me. She twirls a lock of hair around her finger and leans in so that I can see down her shirt. I look away in disgust. I guess we’ve been told to partner up.

  “No.” I walk over to where Cass is sitting. “Get up,” I say to Tyler.

  He looks at me and chuckles. “What?”

  “I’m partners with Cass.”

  He laughs again. “Sorry, dude, but Cassidy already has a partner.”

  “’Cassidy already has a partner,’” I mimic in his slightly nasally voice. “Yeah, I know. It’s me. Now get out of that chair before I pull you out of it.”

  “What’s going on over here?” the professor asks, coming over to make sure that none of us are causing trouble. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Like he could do anything about it if we were.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Cass and I are partners, and I need this desk.”

  The professor looks at Cass. “Cassidy,” he says, glancing down at the iPad he’s holding, checking the class list for her name. “Is that true?”

  Cass’s eyes meet mine, and I see the look there – nervousness, uncertainty. She glances between me and Tyler, and then swallows.

  “Yes,” she says. “I mean, I’m partners with Raider.”

  Tyler opens his mouth to protest, but I realize I’m done waiting for his permission. I reach out and grab Cass’s desk, swinging it around and then taking an empty one on the other side of her and pushing it up against hers so that we’re facing each other.

  After a second, Tyler mumbles something under his breath and then walks away.

  The professor gives me a look, but then he walks away as well.

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  “What are you doing?” Cass asks, crossing her arms over her chest. Her full breasts push together, and even though this uniform fits better, a small gap appears between two of the buttons. My cock twitches.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I say. “I’m going to be your partner. Don’t act like you’re stupid, Cass.”

  “Why do you want to be my partner?”

  “Because I think we work well together, don’t you?”

  Her face goes red, and her eyes darken -- I know she’s thinking about that night in the woods, about what we did to Mr. Rankin.

  She looks away, twisting her hands in front of her nervously. “Well, then, do you have any ideas?”

  “About what?” About sucking those big tits until you’re writhing and screaming for more? Why, yes, Cass, yes, I do.

  “About what we can do our project on.”

  I shrug. “I really don’t give a fuck.”

  She shakes her head. “You know, this might be a joke to you, but I actually have to do well here.”

  I reach out and grab her legs, which are shaking up and down, and hold them steady. “That’s what you don’t understand, Cass. You don’t actually have to do well here. You just have to keep your smart mouth shut.”

  She starts to open her mouth, then stops. “I want to write a book.”

  “What?”

  “Not a whole book. Just a chapbook. For our project.”

  “Sounds great, knock yourself out.”

  “Were you even listening to what our project is supposed to be about?”

  “Nope.”

  She shakes her head. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

  “Thank you,” I say. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Our project is supposed to be something creative about a topic that’s relevant to the world. I think we should write a book, where the main character is struggling with something relevant to society.”

  “I hate writing.”

  “You won the senior class writing award last year.”

  “Doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”

  She sighs.

  “But I’ll do it,” I say, my hands still on her legs under the desk. Even though her skirt is longer, I can still feel her bare skin. “In fact, I think we should get started right away.”

  She reaches down and grabs my hands, her eyes widening with panic.

  “Stop,” I say, my voice low. “You know you like when I touch you, Cass. Remember how you came last night?”

  Her back is to the rest of the classroom, and they’re all bent over their own work. But she doesn’t know that. She doesn’t know that no one is watching.

  “Raider,” she pleads.

  “I like when you beg me.” My hands tighten on her knees and I push them open. “Tell me more about how you’re a virgin, Cass.”

  She bites her lip, making it more plump and pink than usual. I imagine her down on her knees, those lips wrapped around my cock. “Raider, please…”

  “Yes, beg like that.”

  She clamps her mouth shut, stays silent just to spite me.

  “You’ve never had a dick in you, have you, Cass?”

  She glares at me, the hate coming off of her in waves. Good. I’m glad that she hates me. She’s still holding onto my hands under the table, and she digs her nails into my skin, so hard that it hurts.

  “What happened to your face?” she says, talking about the bruise on my cheek that my dad gave me last night.

  “I ran into a door.”

  “Liar.”Her nails did into me harder, so hard that I wonder if she’s drawing blood. But I don’t pull away.

  “My father backhanded me.”

  That shuts her up.

  I reach down and take her hands off mine, pulling her nails from my skin, and she doesn’t resist.

  She spends the rest of the class ignoring me, taking notes in her notebook, I assume for the project we’re supposed to be working on together.

  And I spend the rest of the class watching her, her long dark hair spilling over her shoulders, the look of determined concentration on
her face. I start to think about kissing her, making her mine, and then a flash of something else – emotion? Protectiveness?

  But I can’t allow myself to feel things like that. She needs to be afraid of me.

  I think about how her nails felt pressing into my skin, how hard she was doing it.

  She still hasn’t gotten the message.

  So I pull up Instagram on my phone and create a new username – SlutOfTanglewood.

  I take the picture of Cass that I saved from the Tanglewood website, crop it so that it seems like it’s just a picture of her, make it seem like she’s wearing that uniform on purpose to show off her tits and ass

  Then I post it, using the hashtags #tanglewood #tanglewoodacademy and #slut.

  Don’t get soft, Raider, I tell myself. It’s not worth losing everything just for some chick.

  Chapter 3

  CASSIDY

  Amabel is acting strange.

  When I get back to my room that afternoon after classes, the door is slightly ajar. Her and the three girls from camp she was hanging out with last night are huddled over her phone, staring at something and giggling. When they see me, a look of guilt passes over Amabel’s face and she quickly shoves her phone into her purse.

  The other girls don’t look guilty at all. One of them whispers something to another, and they dissolve into more giggles.

  “We’re just going to lunch,” Amabel says, grabbing her purse and her student ID, which doubles as our pre-paid swipe care for the dining hall. “I’ll see you later.”

  She doesn’t invite me. She doesn’t try to even hide the fact that her friends were obviously laughing at me, and her tone is clipped and unfriendly.

  What the hell is going on? Did I do something to upset her? I wonder. I’ve been in class all day, and as far as I know, so has she. Maybe she just had a bad first day. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.

  Maybe this whole thing with Raider has spooked me, and there’s nothing to worry about.