Brutal Bully (Bad Bullies Book One): A Dark High School Bully Romance Page 21

  “Wanna get a drink this afternoon?”

  Marcus shrugs, and eventually gives up on his food. He pushes away his tray and leans back, stretching as he surveys the cafeteria. “Sure, why not.”

  I slap him on his shoulder, and he gives me a vague smile.

  Well, since my little virgin decided to abscond, I might as well dig in to my sandwich. There’s one bite gone when everyone around me suddenly goes quiet.

  I finish chewing, swallow, and turn in my seat.

  Indi’s standing a few feet behind my side of the bench, her eyes flittering across all the guys seated around me.

  Chicks are trouble, so I don’t make a habit of keeping company with them anymore.

  Until now.

  Until Indi.

  I’m breaking all my fucking rules for her, and I still have no idea why. She’s a liar, friend of the enemy…and the most interesting person I’ve ever met.

  Even now, inches shorter than every guy at this table, completely out of her element, there’s nothing approaching uncertainty in her eyes. Instead, she’s looking at my crew like she’s trying to pinpoint who will crack the first joke at her expense, and take him to task before he opens his mouth.

  But no one does. Because I stand up, climb over the bench, and walk up to her.

  This wasn’t part of anything I’d planned. I’d invited her over here to get her guard down, to see if I could ferret out any juicy morsels Addison might have mentioned in passing.

  Now all I want to do is taste her again.

  Indi’s my new coke. One kiss was all it took to get me hooked, and now I can’t go a few hours without experiencing withdrawal.

  Fuck that.

  * * *

  Indi

  That’s a shit load of eyes on me all of a sudden. I shift my feet a little, and do my best to stare down every guy at the table. I can’t wither up like a wallflower now — if I don’t show them some backbone, they’ll walk all over me.

  Briar stands and comes over to me. There’s a soft light in his eyes like he’s thinking back on some fond memory, and I don’t like it. It’s not what I’ve come to expect from him. Then again, he’s about as predictable as a goddamn tornado.

  Before he can reach me, I take a step back. “I have to study,” I blurt out, lifting a hand as if I would stand any chance at stopping him.

  But surprisingly, he does. A frown touches his face, but in an instant his smug smile slips back on. “So why the fuck did you come all the way over here to tell me that?”

  The condescending tone of his voice brings heat to my cheeks.

  Motherfucking prick.

  I turn on my heel, but his voice halts me a second later. “You know what, forget it. You weren’t that good a fuck anyway, virgin.”

  I whirl to face him, eyes almost popping from my fucking skull. “What?”

  All around me, students start laughing. Most of the guys at Briar’s table are openly smirking at me, and he turns back to them to accept a round of high-fives.

  I stumble over my feet in my rush to back up and get the fuck out of this place. Why the hell would he say that? We never—

  But he probably told all his friends we did. That’s what dickheads like him do, isn’t it? They lie and they exaggerate…

  And they rape and they murder.

  I stop in my tracks. My cheeks are on fire, blood pumping so hard through my veins I barely hear the laughs and the catcalls. I haul in a huge breath, fist my hands, and turn back to Briar.

  He’s about to sit again, but when he happens to glance over his shoulder and spot me, he pauses and then slowly straightens again.

  All that smugness melts from his face, leaving only wary anticipation behind.

  Congratulations, you fucking psycho. You landed yourself a wild card.

  I cross my arms over my chest, and cock my head. My cheeks are still warm, but I ignore them just as hard as I ignore the murmurs around me.

  They grow quiet, and it seems like the entire cafeteria is straining to hear what I’m about to say.

  Better make it good.

  “Really? You didn’t enjoy it?”

  Briar’s head dips. Now there’s open challenge in his eyes, a tiny smile teasing his lush mouth.

  He’s waiting to see where I’m going with this.

  I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of pride in myself. Fuck you, Prince Briar. You don’t scare me.

  I shrug expressively, even lifting my hands a little. “Maybe next time you should be on top. Might last longer than a minute.”

  I drop my eyes to his junk long enough that everyone can see where I’m looking. My heart’s pounding like a fucking drum, but I feel more alive than I have in a week.

  Briar smirks at me and opens his mouth, but I pivot and head for the cafeteria door before he can get a word in.

  The hushed silence lasts all of one second before the entire cafeteria erupts into gales of laughter. That sound puts a swagger in my step, and I’m even tempted to whistle a little as I step into the hallway.

  But my excellent mood dissolves in a second when I see Mr. Denard heading in my direction. I turn around, but I’m not fast enough — he’s already spotted me.

  “Ms. Virgo.”

  Dammit.

  I turn and give him a measly little smile. “Sir.”

  “Don’t forget about detention this afternoon.” His smile is wide and full of joy. I bet he jerks off to the thought of handing out detention slips.

  I hitch up my frosty smile until it feels like my face is gonna crack. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  His eyes narrow at my open sarcasm but he doesn’t call me out for it. Lifting his nose into the air, he strides past me without another word.

  Two in one day? Damn, Indi, you’re on fire.

  * * *

  Briar

  This is fucking bull shit. I don’t know how she’s doing it, but it has to stop. I take the jab as best I can, but she got a solid fucking hit in. I tear out a bite of my sandwich, barely chewing before I force it down my throat.

  Fucking bitch.

  “Hey, can I invite her to my party?” Dylan asks.

  Conversation had barely picked up again, but at his question, it stalls like a car badly in need of new spark plugs.

  “You wanna what?” I manage through a growl.

  Dylan’s grinning at me. I’ll be the first to admit, he’s not the sharpest tool in the workshop, but he gets by just fine on his charm. “My party.”

  I put down the rest of my sandwich, dust my hands, and put my palms down flat on the table. Then I’m about to tell Dylan to go fuck himself with a rusty pitchfork, but Marcus cuts in.

  “Round two,” he says quietly, for my ears alone.

  Round…?

  I don’t turn to him — I’m too busy glaring at Dylan.

  Marcus must know I didn’t fuck Indi. Is he seriously suggesting I get with her at Dylan’s party as revenge for her humiliating me?

  I can’t deny — it won’t take much convincing on my part. I’ve been wanting to fuck her since day one. But she made it clear in Addy’s backyard that she’s not interested in sex. Apparently, the extent of Indi’s interest in me is to lead me on for fuck knows whatever nefarious purposes.

  Still…Booze and Indi?

  “Bad idea,” I murmur.

  “You’ve had worse.”

  I let out a soft laugh, and Dylan nods his head, his smile inching up as if he thinks I’m agreeing with him.

  Fuck it, maybe I am. I’d like to see Indi at one of Dylan’s parties, if only to watch her squirm the entire night. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of chick that likes to play dress up.

  “Sure, Dylan.”

  My friend takes his phone from his pocket, but I hold up my hand to stop him. “I’ll do the honors.”

  “Awesome!”

  Indi’s going to smell this trap a mile away. And after the shit I pulled here, she’s no doubt gone cold on me. Lucky for me, I have until tomorrow n
ight to warm her up.

  “So you’re coming too?” Dylan shoves a few fries into his mouth, his eyes fixed on me.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Indi

  As luck would have it, I don’t have any classes with Briar for the rest of the day. And it drives me crazy, because I don’t even bump into him in the hall, and I’m on tenterhooks to see how he’ll respond to me after the shit I said at lunch. But no luck. By the end of the day, my ego’s deflated like a birthday balloon a day after the party.

  I trudge up the stairs to detention, feeling more than a little apprehensive at seeing Briar again. By now, he’d have recovered and thought up something nasty for me in exchange for embarrassing him in front of the entire school. And I have no choice but to be here in this classroom while he sets his plan in motion.

  Room 301 couldn’t have made a more perfect prison. For one, it’s fucking tiny. The curtains on the windows block out all but the most stubborn chinks of light. I spend a few seconds thinking crazy thoughts about Denard and sunlight before I spot an old-school projector in the middle of the classroom.

  Yeah, that makes more sense. But only barely.

  Briar’s all the way in the back, but the rest of the kids are all in front. There are seven of us in total, and one very righteous looking Denard leaning against a small desk near a projector screen.

  As I enter, Denard pushes away from the desk and saunters over to me. He sticks out an arm, and for a terrifying moment I think he’s going to touch me.

  Cold, dry fingers and long nails — the stuff of nightmares.

  Instead, he flicks off the lights.

  “You’re late, Ms. Virgo,” Denard says as he walks back to his desk.

  I barely manage not to roll my eyes. “Sorry, Sir.”

  He pulls his mouth to the side, but then flicks his fingers at the middle of the row of seats. “You can make up the time tomorrow. I have somewhere to be this afternoon.”

  Coffin shopping, perhaps?

  There are enough chinks in the curtains to allow a little ambiance to filter through, but I still bump my knee on one of the seats as I weave my way past the filled seats. The closest open one is only two seats away from Briar, but it will have to do. As I turn around to sit, I happen to catch his eye.

  His expression doesn’t change in the slightest.

  I sit hurriedly and pile my books on the tiny desk. Dammit, I thought I could use this time to study. I need to complete last weekend’s assignment and hand it in to Mr. Veroza tomorrow. Then I have five chapters of Computer Science to catch up on. But it looks like we’re about to be subjected to an educational video made in the eighties and narrated by a chain-smoking pedophile.

  “So I’ve been wondering…you really a virgin, or what?”

  My spine stiffens, more from the touch of warm breath on my neck than from Briar’s question. In the gloom, I hadn’t noticed him moving closer. Now he’s right behind me, and the tiny fold-away desk between us is obviously not a big enough buffer to keep him away. His presence shouldn’t have put me on edge — we’re in a classroom full of students, after all, but it does, and that pisses me off.

  “Fuck off, you deviant,” I whisper, doing my best not to move my lips.

  Denard fiddles with the projector until it clicks and whirs to life.

  True enough, the gritty title, ‘Getting High in High School’ blooms onto the screen. I grimace, and then shiver as Briar blows against the back of my neck.

  “You trying to get yourself more detention?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to glare at him.

  He shrugs. “Got nothing better to do.”

  “Then why the hell not just go to prison, huh?”

  Even in the low light, I can see darkness flooding Briar’s eyes. He looks away, eyes now trained on the screen. Faded colors paint his face as the projector spews out its ancient lecture.

  I face forward and do my best to zone out while the rest of the video plays, but less than a minute later, another breath warms the back of my neck. I stem the temptation of turning around and scowling at Briar. It won’t do any good, anyway.

  Hands slide over my shoulder. They’re so big, his thumbs touch my neck and his pinkies almost don’t have enough space.

  “Why so tense, Angel?”

  I grit my teeth, but I force myself not to say anything.

  Why am I tense Briar? Because I’m getting a fucking shoulder rub from a rapist, that’s why.

  His thumbs stroke the side of my neck.

  I immediately look up at Mr. Denard, but the teacher’s head is down and he’s busy on his cellphone. Everyone else in detention is either catching forty winks or busy on their phones too. Meanwhile, the video is playing so loud, I doubt anyone would hear us having a full-on conversation.

  They definitely don’t hear him dragging away his desk, or bringing his chair closer to mine.

  I feel him shift — there’s weight on my shoulders one second, gone the next — and then his knees wrap around my seat.

  “You know what I think?” Briar murmurs as he settles down behind me. His breath stirs the fine hairs by my ear, and that makes me squirm in my seat. “I think you’re too serious.”

  Serious about making you pay for what you did, yeah.

  God, I wish I could just yell at him. Maybe I should go to the police. It would be my word against theirs but, fuck, it has to do something, right?

  This is probably exactly what Addy had to go through all those months ago. Why she went off the rails and had to be told to leave Briar alone.

  “You know what’ll loosen you up, Angel?”

  His hand slides down the front of my chest. He squeezes my breast hard enough to make me bite my lip, and then his hand sinks lower, and lower, and lower.

  “Losing your v-card,” he whispers, his lips touching my ear.

  Fuck.

  Fuck!

  I should go sit somewhere else. Raise my hand and hope Mr. Denard will take my side for a change.

  But if I lead him on, there’s a chance we can pick up right where we left off.

  I don’t fucking know.

  No, no more lies. The truth. I will squeeze it out of him one way or the other.

  Briar slides his hand around my throat. I’m flung back to my episode in the tub, where the thought of him doing just this tipped me over the edge.

  “Was it you?” I murmur, shifting despite myself as his other hand smooths my skirt over my thigh. “Were you in my house?”

  Briar’s soft chuckle warms the back of my neck and sends another flurry of goosebumps over my skin. “What the hell are you on about?”

  It must have been him. I want it to be him. And how fucked up is that? Beyond-thought fucked up, that’s what.

  Briar grabs the edge of my skirt and draws it up my leg. Higher. Higher. Where his fingertips brush my skin, electric tingles crackle like branches of lightning through a stormy sky.

  “You’re tensing up again.”

  “Because you have your hand up my fucking skirt.”

  “Relax, Angel. I can’t finger you out of being a virgin.”

  I let out a soft huff, and then clamp my lips shut when his fingertips reach the seam of my underwear.

  If Denard was to look up... If any of the five students in front of us happened to look back…

  I shift in my seat, and grab Briar’s wrist. “Stop.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—”

  ‘Because I said so,’ suddenly doesn’t seem a good enough reason when Briar runs a knuckle over my underwear… right above my clit.

  My head falls back before I can catch it, and our cheeks brush. I sit up straight immediately, blinking to force myself to focus. I squeeze his wrist hard, but he just strokes me again.

  “You really don’t understand the meaning of the word, no, do you?” I say it through a soft laugh, trying to be glib, failing miserably.

  He grabs my pussy and squeezes so
hard I almost gasp out loud. Luckily, I seal my lips just in time and sit up real straight.

  My entire body responds to that merciless grip. Where I was getting all tingly and nice, I’m suddenly aching, the feeling so close to pain I can’t decide if it’s good or bad.

  “And you don’t know when to shut up,” he whispers. “I’m doing you a fucking favor.”

  Heat blooms on my cheeks. I dig my fingers into his wrist until I feel wetness pooling in my nails. “Stop touching me, or I’ll scream.”

  Something brushes the side of my neck, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s his mouth. A shudder races through me. I squeeze his wrist again, but he doesn’t notice. Instead, he eases up on my pussy and strokes me again.

  The contrast between that fierce grip and his gentle caress makes my core clench like a fist.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  But it doesn’t matter how many times I yell that mantra in my head, it doesn’t change my body’s response.

  He’s making me wet.

  I don’t want him to stop.

  And I know that makes me some kind of twisted enabler but for the life of me…I don’t want him to stop.

  * * *

  Briar

  This isn’t what I’d planned. I was going to tie her shoelaces together again. Maybe push her into the wall on the way out. Whisper obscenities in her ear that I would immediately deny when she ratted me out to Denard.

  But that’s the problem, see?

  She’s not fighting me. Sure, she’s drawn blood from my wrist, but she could have stopped this a second after I grabbed her tit.

  She wants me, and that blows my fucking mind.

  Maybe she is a virgin. That’s the only explanation I can come up with. Else why the fuck would she let me grope her like this?