Brutal Prince: A Dark Bully High School Romance Read online

  “…will be in bed and asleep by nine o’clock—”

  “So no one’s told you about my insomnia?” I turn, piled plate held between me and Marigold like a shield.

  Her eyes flicker to the plate and back to me as if I’ve somehow managed to offend her with my appetite.

  “Insomnia?” Marigold says, voice hushed with disbelief.

  “Yeah,” I say, biting into a crispy piece of bacon. “It’s this condition where you can’t go to sleep—”

  Marigold’s fist connects with the table, rattling everything on it.

  I pause mid-chew and widen my eyes at her.

  Holy hell. I didn’t think my grandma had a line, but I’ve obviously just gone and crossed it.

  “Do not ever speak to me with your mouth full of food.” She stands in a rush, spots of color touching her cheeks. “Did your mother not teach you any manners?”

  Bacon turns into a nauseating ball of oily gunk inside my mouth. I bring the plate closer, spit out the half-chewed pork, and slowly set my plate down.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Marigold, I’ve inexplicably lost my appetite.”

  I turn on my heel, feeling her daggerlike eyes piercing the back of my head.

  “You think I wanted this?” comes her yell.

  I freeze on the spot, my body suddenly stiff with anger. “You?” I grate, turning on rusty legs. “You didn’t want this?”

  She crosses her arms over her chest, and for a moment — one brief moment — sympathy flashes over her face.

  “You think I wanted to lose her, you fucking hag?” I scream. “You think I wanted to be stuck here with you in this stupid town? No friends, no family, nothing?” My voice bounces back to me, but I’m a wild horse that’s got the bit in between its teeth; nothing’s stopping me now.

  “I hate being here. I hate this town. I hate you!” My chest rises and falls like when I got back from my run last night.

  Marigold’s face is the same color as her beige carpets.

  I expect her to punish me for speaking to her like that. Maybe going straight to the phone and calling me a cab.

  Instead, she comes around the table, eyes narrowing the closer she gets.

  “Well,” she murmurs, barely loud enough for me to hear. “Lucky for us, we only have to bear with each other until you graduate.” She lays a hand on my shoulder and gives me a little squeeze. Her lips turn up into a fake smile. “Then you’re on your own, young lady.”

  * * *

  Briar

  A dull headache forces me out of sleep. I stare at my bedroom’s intricately molded ceiling, and shift my feet into the cool corners of my silk sheets as I try to ignore my morning wood.

  I had a good dream last night. The girl in the woods starred in it. This time, she didn’t get away.

  I ignore my aching junk and go take a shower. I could jerk off in here, but I refuse to let my body dictate my actions anymore.

  We’re all animals. Some of us just hide it better than others.

  I used to be able to hide it until Marcus’s party. What’s it been, ten months? Feels like a fucking eternity that I’ve been stuck with my new, shitty reality. What a brave new world; everywhere I go, the whispers follow. All based on rumors and gossip, not a single fact. And as much as they dig, they’ll never find anything concrete.

  Marcus made sure of that.

  I shut off the angry stream of thoughts, squeezing my eyes shut as I turn off the heat and shove my head under the freezing cold jets.

  Briar Manor is silent when I pad to the kitchen on bare feet. I eat a breakfast of dry cereal and coffee as I watch the sun rise over town. The family manor has one of the best views in Lavish, nestled along the side of the Devil’s Spine mountains. Lavish stretches out far below, thousands of perfect little houses clinging to their winding country roads. The manor’s surrounded by Blood Briar woods; our closest neighbor a property that once belonged to the Davis’s. Might still, actually. Maybe the girl in the woods last night is a Davis — some far-flung cousin that came to visit. Only their kin would be brave enough to venture into my woods without a second thought to their own safety.

  Those first few months after my mother died, Dad was at home enough that we could have actual conversations. The loving husband and father I’d grown up with changed. He became bitter and spiteful. For months, he’d hold monologues at the dinner table, instructing me on how to protect my things.

  My land.

  My sense of self.

  My heart.

  Claim them as yours, son. Claim them and never let anyone else take them from you.

  He blames himself for what happened to my mother, Natalie. Not the accident, of course. A patch of black ice and poor driving skills were at fault.

  The fact that she was in her car is what he blames himself for. From all the little snippets he’s told me over the years, I’ve pieced together the fact that Dad and Mom had an on-again, off-again relationship for about a decade before she settled down and became my full-time mother. That was several years after I was born, but my father never went into detail about why she wasn’t around all the time. I don’t ever expect him too — he’s a private man by nature, and it’s a miracle I know anything about the shit him and Mom went through.

  I shake my head, draining the last of my coffee.

  That girl shouldn’t have been where she was last night. Everyone in Lavish knows about the wild animal that roams those woods.

  Now she does too.

  After breakfast, I try contacting my father again. I don’t ever feel the need to ask his permission for Marcus to stay over, but it’s a chance — an excuse — to speak to him. If he ever answered, of course.

  His phone, unsurprisingly, goes to voice mail.

  I don’t bother leaving a message. He never listens to them anyway.

  I stare out at the woods pressing up against Briar Manor’s ornate fencing. Times like this, it feels like I’m the only person in the world.

  A feeling I used to loathe. A feeling I now embrace.

  * * *

  Indi

  The fuck is this?

  I stare at the clothes hanging from the door handle of my closet.

  “Gran—” I cut off with a grimace. “Marigold?”

  My hands fist at my sides as Marigold opens my door.

  “What is that?” I point at the clothes.

  “That’s your uniform, young lady.”

  Cold-hearted bitch — she’s smiling, isn’t she?

  “No.”

  “What makes you think you have a choice?” The door closes behind me.

  A school uniform? What the hell, am I five?

  I glare at a black and gold school skirt while it taunts me with its perkiness. I strip down to my underwear and reluctantly step into the skirt. I sneer at my reflection. The thing barely reaches mid-thigh. Did Marigold get my measurements wrong or something?

  Next is the white button-up shirt, then the tie. It’s black with a fancy family-shield kind of emblem on the bottom in gold. There’s a black, sleek-looking blazer hanging on the other door handle.

  Blegh.

  I rake fingers through my hair, consider then dismiss the possibility of trying to run a brush through the tangles, but even the thought feels like too much effort. Instead, I do my best to tame it into a bun.

  My doctor said I could expect bouts of depression, anger…you know, all seven of those ugly fucking dwarves of mourning? Guess I’m back in the depression phase. Last night? Anger, of course.

  Hang on, Indi — there’s a long, bleak stretch coming up.

  Marigold left a key fob and a printed map with directions to Lavish Prep on my dresser. The fact that she knows how to use Google Maps and a printer, but doesn’t own a television confounds me. My grandmother is nowhere in sight when I thump downstairs, and I don’t bother going into the kitchen to find food to take with to school. I’ve still got a little cash on me. It’s all I’ve got until Mom’s life insurance policy pays out. On Friday
, when I’d phoned the insurance company to find out how far the process was, they told me the claim was with their investigation department. Because, apparently, being brutally murdered and raped gives them a reason to delay the payout to make sure there’s no foul play.

  I reverse out of the garage and start down the road. The key fob opens the old, creaking gates leading out of the property. Lavish is as pretty as it was last night. The sun’s barely out, but everything gleams.

  In fact, it’s almost a little too shiny. Like how fake gold has to shine that much brighter to make up for the fact that it’s as real as unicorn poop.

  Yeah, I’m in a screwed up headspace this morning. I blame Marigold, of course. And then I spend a few minutes blaming Mom. Then I pull over and thump my hands against the steering wheel until the urge to burst into tears subsides.

  I have no one to blame but myself.

  I reach Lavish Prep a few minutes later and park as far away from the front of the school as I can without looking like a weirdo. I check to see if anyone’s in sight before I slip out of the car. A breeze slides over my bare legs, and I shiver a little. In my old school, we could wear whatever we wanted. I would sometimes wear a dress or a skirt, but nothing this revealing. Mom made sure I never looked like a whore when I left the house.

  Her words, not mine.

  I always wondered why she was so conservative, but after meeting Marigold, it all makes sense.

  Right, now to get in without attracting attention. I guess, in that respect, the uniform helps a fuck load. I can just blend in with all the other kids.

  I’m a ghost.

  Just another shadow on the—

  “You new here?”

  I close my eyes, take a breath, and turn.

  A girl with sleek blond hair fanning down her chest stands a yard or so away from me. Her backpack matches her neon-pink acrylic nails, and the tiny diamonds in her ears seem to have been chosen to accentuate the rhinestones glittering on her nail tips.

  She sashays over and sticks out said glittering hand, jaw bunching as she chews on a piece of gum. “Addy.”

  I stare at her hand, and then back up at her. “Indi.”

  She turns with me and together we head for the school. It’s all one big building with multiple floors. Despite the fluted pillars out front and the rigorously trimmed hedges, it looks more like a white-collar prison than a school.

  I guess that’s exactly what it is, and I’m just as guilty of being young and stupid as everyone else in this place.

  “Where you from, Indi?”

  “Not here,” I mutter. Gees, what the hell do I have to do to get this girl to leave me alone? No way I’m walking into school unnoticed with her next to me. I bet the International Space Station can see her glittery nails from up there.

  “Well, duh,” she says through a laugh. “So where?”

  “Look, Annie,” I say, turning on my heel to face her.

  She stops abruptly, her hair shifting like silk. “Addy.” She shows me her teeth, and I feel like punching her because they’re so damn perfect.

  “Addy,” I amend, starting to talk through my teeth in an attempt to remain civil. “I’m more of a loner kind of person, so if you could just—”

  “Don’t be such a fucking grouch,” Addy says, rolling her eyes. She rummages in the pocket of her gold-trimmed blazer and pulls out a joint. “Not a lot of people around here smoke, and you kinda look like you might, so—”

  I lift my hand, and she stops talking. “Addy? I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

  * * *

  “You’re obviously not a morning person, are ya?” Addy says, her words punctuated with puffs of smoke.

  We’re in Addy’s car — a cute little sportster that probably costs more than my mother’s life insurance policy will pay out — with the windows wound up and our minds melting down.

  I stare at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Duh,” Addy says with another exaggerated roll of her eyes. “You should come with a warning label.”

  “Yeah…sorry,” I mumble around the joint. “It’s been a short, yet very shitty morning. Week, actually.”

  I get ready to tell her to fuck off, knowing she’s going to ask what happened, but instead she waves her hand in the air between us.

  “So be glad it’s over, and let’s get our asses inside before they lock us out.”

  “They lock kids out?” I turn to stare ahead at the school building. “For real?”

  Addy laughs as she kicks open her door. “You don’t know the half of it. Come on, punk.”

  Chapter Five

  Briar

  Dylan, Zak, and Marcus are lounging in our regular spot by the front steps of the school when I arrive a few minutes before the first bell rings.

  I pull my Mustang into my parking spot. It’s always open; no one dares to park here anymore. Marcus steps closer, toking at his slim, silver vape as he sticks out his hand to shake mine.

  Dylan yells out, “You cut yourself shaving or something?”

  Shit. I’d been blasting metal on my car stereo, and it had taken my mind off everything — including my run-in with last night’s little trespasser and the brazen memento she left me with. If Marcus had noticed it last night, he hadn’t commented on it but now he’s staring at it with a deep frown.

  I grin at him, trying to ignore the aching cut on my cheek. “You know what happens when I look for trouble.”

  “You find it?” Marcus says, hitting his vape again.

  Zak and Dylan stick out hands for me to fist bump. Dylan even goes as far as to tip his white baseball cap at me, and laughs when I cock an eyebrow at him. Then Zak and Dylan go back to talking about last night’s game. We usually hang out on the weekends but with finals coming up, the three stooges’s parents had grounded them for the weekend.

  Bad things happen when parents start talking to each other.

  Marcus doesn’t join in on the conversation. He’s staring at nothing, one hand draped over his knee, the other toying with his vape when he’s not hitting it.

  I click my fingers at Marcus, and he holds out his vape without looking. It could just be that he’s hungover, but I know him too well. He’s in a slump, and it’s gonna take concerted effort to get him out of it.

  I draw deep, grimacing around its sweet taste, and take a long, slow scan of the kids streaming into school.

  A pair of girls come closer. I recognize Addison Green from my AP Literature class, but I don’t know who the hell’s with—

  “Prince!”

  I snap out of my trance, and throw Zak a scowl. The fucker knows better than to use my first name, but he doesn’t even have the decency to look abashed.

  “What?” I snap.

  “You get any tail this weekend?”

  I stare at him for a moment, and then shake my head. He’s the only one in our crew idiotic enough to ask. They all know by now that I keep myself away from women.

  It’s too easy to lose control. If I’d had any doubts, last night proved I can’t be alone with a girl.

  When I turn back, Addison is only a few yards away.

  “What the fuck, man?” I hear Dylan say, but I’m more interested in the girl walking beside Addison than in being interrogated by my posse.

  It’s the girl from the woods. This time, instead of some baggy jeans and an oversized hoody, she’s wearing a school skirt that shows off a pair of slender legs. She’s not wearing makeup, and her mess of hair’s been drawn back into an untidy bun.

  In daylight, she’s even more petite than I witnessed last night, the shadows under her eyes more pronounced.

  As she takes her first step up to the front of the school, Addy points a finger right at me. The girl looks up, spots me, and stops dead.

  Behind me, Zak shouts, “Hey, who’s the new chick?”

  But those green eyes don’t move. Her face contorts into a scowl. “You?” she yells, and I can’t quite make o
ut if it’s anger or shock creasing her brow.

  “Me,” I say, grinning at her.

  The girl surges forward. Addison tries to grab her, but she shakes her off without pausing. The little thing charges straight up to me and tries to slap me.

  I catch her, of course, my fingers easily wrapping around her thin wrist.

  “Easy there, Angel,” I murmur.

  She tries another slap, this time with her left hand. I was so busy gloating, I barely see it coming in time. I twist, and she falls forward, thrown off-balance when she doesn’t connect.

  Behind me, the guys burst out laughing. Addison’s eyes are so wide, they look about to pop out of her head. But I don’t think any of this is funny.

  I grab the girl’s wrists, pinning them together, and haul her against me. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl down to her.

  “Me?” she barks out in disbelief. Her tits brush against my stomach as she draws one furious breath after the other. “You’re the one that thinks you can just go around raping people!”

  There’s a scandalized gasp from everyone within earshot.

  I shove her away from me so hard that she lands on her ass and I spot a flash of white underwear before she tugs her skirt straight. But even sitting on her ass in the grass, obviously overpowered and already surrounded by a decent crowd, fury blazes in her eyes.

  “The fuck you on about?” I say, hardly recognizing my tight voice.

  She scrambles up, fends off Addison when the girl tries to drag her away, and comes back for more. “Could you even stand looking at yourself in the mirror this morning?” she yells. Now there’s an outright challenge in her eyes.

  “The fuck?” I scoff, glancing over my shoulder at the guys. But they’re all staring at me like they’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.