I feel it the moment my aunt drops me off at school the next morning.
Something is off.
People are staring.
Some of them are laughing.
Everyone is whispering.
And I’ve barely even stepped inside the building.
You’d think the stupid rumor about me hooking up with Oakley would be old news by now, but apparently not.
Sawyer rushes over the second she spots me in the hallway. “Hey. You’re here.”
“People really need to get a life.”
She shuffles her feet. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t fuck my step-cousin,” I hiss loud enough for the people gawking nearby to hear. “Find something else to feed your drama.”
“We already have,” some guy says smugly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sawyer blows out a breath. “I’m so sorry, Dylan. I tried to take as many as I could down, but they keep taping them back up.”
“Taping what—” My knees buckle as we turn down the hallway where my locker is.
This can’t be happening.
“How did they…” I swallow and it feels like glass. “Who?”
My stomach churns as I pass the rows of lockers lined with my dad’s mugshot and an article outlining his court case.
All my dirty laundry, the one thing I wanted to keep private is laid out for everyone to see.
Humiliation burns through me like wildfire as I approach my own locker where the word thief is spray painted in bright red.
Who would do such a cold-hearted, cruel…
I freeze as it occurs to me.
Oakley not only knows about my father being in jail, he dislikes me enough to use the information to hurt me.
Since the moment I stepped foot in Royal Manor, he’s made it clear I wasn’t welcome.
I figured it would blow over soon, but he’s gone too far this time.
“I’m gonna kill him.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up. “Who?”
I don’t answer her because I’m too busy pushing my way through the hallway full of people, searching for the asshole responsible for today and yesterday’s spectacle.
My pulse quickens as my Doc Martens hammer the shiny, terrazzo floor. Each step I take is fueled by vehemence.
I’ve been here less than a week and already I’ve reached my breaking point.
I’ve tried ignoring them.
I’ve tried turning the other cheek.
I’ve tried standing up for myself…all to no avail.
And the one person who should have my back in this hellhole—my family member—is the one pulling the strings to this little shit show.
If I don’t do something drastic and put an end to the bullshit now, it will only continue.
I catch Oakley hanging out at the end of the hallway by his locker. His back is turned to me as a visibly agitated girl—who I presume must be his girlfriend—berates him about ignoring her phone calls.
Wait your turn, sweetheart. He’s mine first.
Intuitive people who can smell a fight from a mile away step aside as I approach him.
Standing at just over six feet, Oakley has almost a hundred pounds on me, but it doesn’t deter me from my mission.
I might be scrappy, but I’ve been in enough fights to know the first punch has to pack enough power to disorient him, or at the very least, throw him off enough that I’m able to get a second one in.
The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I remind myself as I tap his shoulder.
It’s clear my presence is unwanted when he twists around. Feeling’s mutual, douche.
“What do you—”
I don’t think, I just act.
The second I register the sound of my knuckles cracking against bone, I know I landed a good one.
And I don’t stop there. Not even when he raises one of his hands in self-defense.
“Christ. What the fuck is your problem?”
My answer is another punch. This time straight to his throat. “You.”
He stumbles back. The hand covering his eye flies to his neck and he coughs.
Half the people surrounding us gasp in surprise, while the other half encourage Oakley to sock me back.
But he won’t. He can’t. I’ve knocked the wind out of him temporarily.
It’s exactly the position I wanted him in. Unable to fight back, but also too proud to ask someone for help while a girl beats his ass.
He lunges toward me, and for a split-second, I think he’s going to hit me, but he starts walking away instead.
I’m not done with him yet.
Taking hold of his shirt, I wrench the material until it rips, and he’s forced to face me again.
“Tell everyone the truth,” I demand.
“About what?”
Wrong answer. My knee goes straight into his nuts.
He doubles over in pain. “Jesus Christ.”
I grab a fist full of his dark blond hair, compelling him to look at me. “Tell them the truth.”
“Fine. I didn’t fuck you.” His laughter is taunting. “I’m not that desperate.”
I take another swing at his face with my free hand. Blood splatters across the front of my white shirt like drops of rain on a windshield.
“You crazy bitch,” he barks as he tilts his head, attempting to halt the blood trickling from his nose.
He’s not wrong. I made my point and I should stop, but I can’t.
It feels too good.
My palm connects with his cheek. “Who’s the bitch now?”
“I swear to fucking God,” he roars, pushing me away.
“What’s the matter?” I mock, sailing my knee into his junk for a second time. “Getting tired of having your ass handed to you by a girl in front of the whole school?”
He’s crouched over grabbing his balls, but I hear a low snarl break free. I can tell it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and he’s going to charge me any second.
I must be more deranged than I thought, because I want him to.
“Come on,” I prompt as I smack him again and again, battering his back so many times I lose count. My vision turns glassy. “Hit me, bi—”
A pair of strong arms wrap around me and I’m airborne against my will briefly. I kick my legs as they begin towing me away, but their iron-clad grip is unyielding.
I assume it’s a teacher or security guard, but when I glance down at the arm around my midsection, I notice the sleeves of his white shirt are rolled up, showcasing veiny muscular forearms and perfectly bronzed skin I’d recognize anywhere.
“Let me go, Jace,” I grit through my teeth. “I’m not finished with your precious boy yet.”
Jealousy coats my insides and I make no effort to conceal it.
I loathe Oakley for starting rumors about me. I detest him for telling everyone about my dad in such a messed-up way and humiliating me.
But I’m straight-up bitter about him taking my place as Jace’s best friend.
I’m full-on fuming, high on adrenaline and anger by the time Jace drags me into a storage closet and locks the door.
The single dim bulb swinging above us like a pendulum illuminates his tall, lean frame enough that I make out the sharp line of his jaw and the perfect shape of those full lips.
My reaction to his close proximity is visceral. Instantly, my pulse, my breathing, my emotions—slam into overdrive.
When I was a kid, I didn’t understand why I’d experience such an extreme response whenever he was near, but now I do.
No one in the whole wide world has the power to make me feel both love and hate simultaneously the way Jace Covington does.
He’s the yin to my yang. The down to my up. The crazy to my normal.
The damaged pieces to all my broken parts.
I could befriend every single person on the planet, and no one will ever know me the way he does.
No one will ever come close to making me feel so alive or light my soul on fire.
No one will ever hurt me more.
“Look, I don’t kn—”
“Shut up.” In two strides he’s closing the distance between us, pinning me against the wall. “You’re not the one calling the shots this time.”
Clearly his memory is different than mine because I’ve never called any of the shots when it came to us.
“What do you want from me?”
Why are you treating me like I’m lower than dirt?
His gaze drops down to my chest and his expression darkens. “Not a damn thing.”
He might want to believe that, but his eyes betray him. They’re full of longing and desire, despite all his hostility.
I press a palm to his chest and his heart rate speeds up. “You sure about that?”
My breathing hitches as his hand slithers up the front of my shirt, intentionally resting between my breasts before traveling up to my throat. “Let’s get one thing straight.” I jolt in surprise when he grips the back of my neck. “What I felt for you back then doesn’t exist anymore.”
We both know that isn’t true otherwise he wouldn’t be in a closet with me. Again.
My chest aches as the vivid memory of the last time I saw him washes over me. “Then why are you here?”
His heated stare burns like the sun. “You were right.” I see the glint of metal on his tongue before he dips his head and licks the column of my throat. “There is something I still want.”
“What—”
Whatever I was going to say evaporates when he flicks his tongue ring over my pulse point and sucks the tender skin into his mouth.
A rush of heat settles between my thighs and my entire body vibrates with need. “Don’t stop.”
He’s so rough I know he’s marking my flesh, but I don’t care.
Digging my nails into his back, I hitch a leg around his waist, demanding more.
A low groan escapes him, and he bites harder. For a moment, I honestly wonder if he’s going to tear through the tissue and rip out my vocal cords with his teeth.
“Jac—”
“Take off your panties,” he growls into my neck. “Show me how fucking wet I make you.”
My cheeks flush as I slip my hands under my skirt and slide them down.
He swiftly picks them up off the floor and examines the damp spot. “Looks like you want something too.” His lips curve into a wicked grin. “But you’re gonna have to beg for it.”
I hold his gaze. “What happens if I don’t?”
“I’ll find someone who will.” He sucks my earlobe between his lips. “But that’s not what you really want, is it?”
I shake my head.
The thought of him doing this to Britney or someone else causes bile to surge up my esophagus.
I’m confused when he grabs both of my wrists and places them behind my back. “What are you doing?”
He kisses the hollow of my throat. “I want you at my mercy while I do all the sick, perverted things I’ve been dreaming about for years.”
Warmth rushes my insides and I don’t protest when he uses my panties to secure me to the frame of a nearby shelf.
“I can’t decide whether I should taste you here first.” His finger dips between my cleavage. “Or here.” I shiver when he clamps the inside of my thigh.
Butterflies swarm my belly when his mouth descends. “Maybe I’ll just start with your tits and work my way down.”
Clenching my thighs to relieve some of the pressure, I rasp, “Please.”
“Please what?” The rough edge of his thumb caresses my nipple through my shirt. “You want me to fuck you?”
Licking my lips, I nod. “Yes.”
With a grunt, he seizes my shirt and tears it open, sending buttons scattering everywhere.
A crude smile lights his face as he peers down at me. “Not even if you were the last piece of pussy on earth.”
For a moment I think I’m hearing things, but it’s clear that’s not the case when I see the wrath swimming in his dark orbs.
This was nothing but a cruel trick.
And I fell for it…hook, line, and sinker.
I struggle against the restraints, but he’s tied them so tight there’s no way I’ll get out of them myself. “Why are you doing this to me?”
Anger tightens his features. “You know why.”
I honestly don’t. “Is it because I left?”
I’m grasping at straws here, but it’s all I’ve got. Nothing else adds up.
“I can’t decide if that’s your attempt at a sick joke, or if you’ve lost too many brain cells over the years.” A muscle in his jaw flexes and he gets so close to my face I don’t know if he’s going to kiss me or bite me. “You leaving town was the best thing that ever happened to me. And if you had any sense, you’d do it again. For good this time.”
My blood boils and I spit in his face. “Fuck you.”
Regardless of my feelings for him, he doesn’t get to talk to me like I’m a dense piece of shit.
He wipes his face and backs up. “Apparently you still haven’t gotten the memo.” His expression goes slack. “I’d rather stick my dick through a meat grinder than inside you.”
“Hate to break it to you, but your dick was awfully responsive for someone who wants nothing to do with me.”
His hands clench into fists at his sides. “Don’t flatter yourself. The only thing turning me on was the thought of watching you crumble when I rejected you.”
“Damn. Guess you’ll have to try harder next time. Clearly, I’m completely devastated over our missed opportunity to hook up.” I sniffle sardonically. “I’m not sure how I’ll ever recover from the depths of these despairs.” Batting my eyelashes, I look at him. “On second thought, I should be thanking you. Given your dick has been inside Britney, I’m sure it’s drowning in all sorts of venereal diseases. Therefore, you and your cock no longer appeal to me.” I sink my teeth into my lower lip and smile wryly. “Looks like you brought me here for nothing.”
“You’re right.” He moves toward me in predatory strides. “If shooting you down and watching you cry was my sole intention, I failed.” There’s a calculated note in his voice. “But it wasn’t.”
I roll my eyes. “Then pray tell, what exactly was the point of all this?”
He palms my cheek. It’s a gesture that’s way too gentle for the anger radiating off him. “To inform you that it wasn’t Oakley who started the rumor about the two of you.” There’s a mocking gleam in his eyes. “He also didn’t put up the mugshots of your dad all over school.” The pad of his finger brushes my lip. “And it wasn’t my girl who tripped you at lunch yesterday.” His teeth flash white. “That was all me.”
The pain that squeezes my heart is one I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I try to suck in air so I can force the sting out, but the agony spreads inside me like a virus, catching me by the throat.
What Jace did goes so far beyond betrayal there isn’t a term for it.
He’s like a tyrant holding up a magnifying glass to the sun’s rays, and I’m the ant who’s struggling to survive while he watches me burn from the inside out.
I miss my mom. The thought is enough to bring me to my knees.
If she was here, she’d tell me what to do, how to get through this.
And if all else failed, she’d scoop me up in her arms and hold me while I cried.
To my sheer humiliation, a tear rolls down my cheek.
He catches it on his thumb, then brings it to his mouth. “Tastes good.”
It’s the last thing he says before he walks out, slamming the door behind him.
