Bully Anthology: Boys of Westview Academy, books 1-4 Page 9

  Read Revenge Academy, Boys of Westview Academy, book two!

  Part II

  Revenge Academy

  Chapter 17

  I couldn't push myself through the clots of kids gathered around at the back of the house, all straining to look up and see what was being projected.

  The chants of, "BJ Queen," grew louder though, as more and more of them joined the majority of the party on the back patio and lawn.

  I finally found the strength and shoved hard enough that some drunk college looking guy took notice of me. He looked down, held his beer in one hand and his phone in the other and yelled, "Hey, here she is!"

  He tried drunkenly to start filming me as tears streaked my face and I began to shove people aside, but he didn't seem able to find the right button.

  By the time people caught on to what he was yelling, I had made it through and was racing freely towards the front of the house.

  Mason seemed to rise up from nowhere and grabbed my arm as I passed.

  “Where’s the booze, BJ Queen?” he laughed in my face. He was so drunk his words slurred and his eyes seemed unfocused, but his friends were hysterical with mockery and clapped their hands like he was the most clever man on the planet.

  “Fuck you,” I screamed at him and tried to jerk away.

  “I’ll take that, or just a blow job. It’s either booze or blow job, it’s up to you,” he snickered and they all laughed.

  The laughter seemed to rise in volume until it filled my head, it was all I could hear and it seemed to bounce off the inside of my skull, echoing and growing in power.

  I sobbed and pulled away at last, free of Mason and the rest of them as I ran out the front door and across the wide, front porch.

  Fuck them all. Fuck every single one of these rich assholes.

  And fuck Barrett for leaking those photos of me. Or being the one to set it all up. He'd been so weird since we'd kissed, like he'd only done it to get my guard down.

  My tears of shame slowly heat up to tears of rage as I run down the front steps past the oblivious party goers there. The ones who haven't seen me starring in the half time show, the nightly entertainment for the drunken throngs of spoiled rich brats partying their faces off at Mason's mansion.

  They would all know in due time.

  Every one of them would see my humiliation played out in bright full color, displayed thirty feet high on the back of the house while I was helpless to stop it. I couldn't do anything.

  My chest was heaving with shuddering sobs as I stomped down the tree lined street packed with cars that would make any of my old high school friends green with envy.

  And here I was in the middle of them all, hating every single one of them.

  I would have stolen one had I known how to drive. I was forced to walk away in shame though, through the winding boulevard and out onto one of the main thoroughfares. I got to it, Westview Avenue, and turned right so I could continue down the sidewalk. Tears blurred my vision, blinding me and leaving me unable to cross for fear of being hit.

  I was miserable, I was ashamed, and I missed home more than anything else just then.

  "Stephanie, wait!" a male voice called behind me.

  I kept moving, faster now that somebody was coming after me. My head was so stuffed up with tears and snot that I couldn't tell who it was, I could barely hear a thing through my muffled sorrow.

  "Wait! I'm serious, just wait!"

  I didn't turn around and within seconds, a strong hand gripped my arm and pulled me, spinning me around.

  "Just leave me alone," I said, my voice hiccupping from the emotional impact I'd just suffered. I still didn't feel like I was able to get a deep breath, like I'd fallen from a great height and the impact had knocked it out of me.

  "Don't walk away, you don't know where you are," he said and I finally looked up to find Whitt staring down at me, concern making his face seem almost foreign to me. "Let me take you home at least. Come back with me and we'll get my car."

  "I'm not going anywhere with you," I said. "How do I know you aren't in on it? I'm not your BJ Queen, so leave me alone!"

  "I had no idea what was going on," he pleaded and moved closer. He touched my upper arm, wrapped his fingers around it gently and said, "You have to believe me."

  And I wanted to believe him. God knew I wanted to believe the kind boy with the butterfly kisses that had sparked a fire in my belly just a few minutes before. I wanted to believe that he'd had nothing to do with it, and that he was simply there to support me and care for me and make sure I got home safely.

  But after tonight, there was nowhere safe for me here in Harrisburg. I would never feel safe at Westview Academy again.

  Denial and anger bubbled up in my chest like hot magma, burning my heart where desire had been moments ago...before I'd seen the video. The pictures. Heard the taunts.

  It burst to the surface like a toxic bubble exploding inside of me, just below the back of my tongue and in my throat.

  And it expelled from my mouth with a ferocity that actually frightened me when I saw the impact it had upon Whitt and his kind eyes.

  "You know what? You aren't my type," I spat with derision dripping from my words like armor cladding my torn heart. "And even worse, we're not even friends. So fuck you. You saw the video, you know I'm a slut. The problem we have here is that I'm a slut for anybody but you, Whitt. I can't imagine wanting to have your dick inside of me, not if you fuck the way you kiss. Sloppy and barely there."

  My verbal blows hit the mark and he winced with each nasty comment. I wanted to shake him and tell him it wasn't me saying those things, that it was the scared and angry girl inside of me that was taking over, but it was too late.

  Whitt's hand loosened around my arm and his lips curled into a sneer. "Why am I not surprised?" he said with venom in his own words. "You are Barrett's sister, after all. Even without blood tying you together, your family is fucked up beyond repair."

  "Fuck you," I spat. "You don't know my family. Not my real family!"

  I braced myself for his further attack, not that I could blame him on some level, but headlights cut across us in the dark and an Audi R8 came screeching to a halt on the street next to us.

  Barrett leapt out yelling, "Whitt, you cocksucker! Get your fucking hands off her!"

  He tumbled around the car and I'd never seen move so fast or so passionate about anything before. He practically rolled across the hood of his Audi and came to a stop beside us, staring Whitt right in the eye.

  They locked themselves in battle over me and Whitt's grip tightened on my upper arm once again.

  "I brought her here, I'm taking her home," Whitt said with determination.

  "I'm leaving on my own," I said and tried to jerk my arm away. Whitt didn't budge and his fingers were starting to hurt.

  "Let. Her. Go," Barrett growled, emphasizing each word as he spit it from his lips like weapons.

  "Stop being a controlling dick, B man. You don't own her, she's not even your real sister," Whitt replied, his words razor sharp and his intent clear. He wasn't going to give up without a fight.

  But I wasn't some discount Prada handbag two women were fighting over at a Black Friday sale, for god's sake. I was my own person and neither one of them was innocent as far as I could see.

  "Where did those photos come from, hey Barrett?" I asked, contempt lining my speech, weaving through my words. "You're the one who projected them, aren't you?"

  "It wasn't me, Steph," Barrett said, pain rising in his eyes. "I promise you. It wasn't me."

  "You know what? Fuck you both," I yelled and jerked my arm free from Whitt’s grip at last.

  Whitt was pulled forward in the motion, Barrett thought he was making a move so he drew back his fist and swung.

  As I jumped back, Barrett's first blow landed and the two of them began to slam their fists into each other without any concern over me. They were two young bucks locking horns without a single thought as to why. Their dislike of on
e another, combined with hopped up testosterone and maybe a little alcohol was enough to keep them swinging.

  I shook my head and watched them for a moment, mumbled under my breath, "Fucking idiots," and began to walk away.

  I was still angry and humiliated, but releasing some of it onto the two of them had helped me ease up on my shuddering sobs and the fat, hot tears that had soaked my cheeks.

  My eyes had dried, my head was clearing up, and I had a new determination to find out who set me up like that at Mason's party.

  And get my revenge.

  I wasn't going to rest until I made them feel what I was feeling.

  All the pain and loneliness. The embarrassment and shame.

  All of it would be thrown back onto them, all of them. Anyone who had anything to do with tonight.

  But first...I had to figure out how to get back to my Dad's place.

  Chapter 18

  I was in some cell service dead zone on the street, I had no bars at all no matter how far down I walked.

  Either it was too far from cell towers because the wealthy residents of Harrisburg thought they caused cancer or fucked up their morning yoga vibrations or something. Or the wealthy mansions around me had so many digital privacy walls, wifi dampeners, and signal blocks set up that they'd rendered the entire place a desert, free of internet or phone access.

  "Fuck, are you kidding me?" I muttered for the tenth time as I held my phone aloft and did the Lion King, as Maddy always called it. Where I lifted it up over my head like a baby Simba and moved it around, looking for bars.

  I just needed part of a bar, just the smallest hint of service so I could get my maps loaded.

  I had Dad's address in my phone, so if it wasn't too far I could walk. If it was too far, I could call an Uber. Either way, I needed service.

  I heard a car coming up behind me and slow down as it reached the spot where I was standing.

  It was Barrett so I started marching down the sidewalk again, my phone clutched in my hand at my side.

  Barrett kept up though, driving slowly as he leaned over, the passenger window sliding down and he said, "Get in."

  "Fuck you." I kept marching on. Stomping in my adorable boots that were starting to pinch my feet. I should have broken them in first, but how was I to know that I'd be running away in horror while wearing these stupid shoes?

  "Come on, I can't leave you out here. Your dad would kill me," he said.

  "Good. Maybe he should kill you for what you did."

  "Steph. Please. It wasn't me and I don't know who got those pics off my phone."

  I stopped walking, whirled around and said, "Why were they there in the first place? How fucking gross is that?"

  It was then that I noticed he was bleeding. His nose looked like it might even be broken and bloody blossoms bloomed across his white tee shirt.

  "I can't say I'm innocent of that, I took the pics," he said and dropped his head down in shame. His nose definitely looked broken from this angle, there was a huge bump across the bridge and he appeared to be getting two black eyes. "I just...fuck, I didn't expect you to be so fucking hot, okay? David talked about you like you were ten years old so I was expecting some annoying kid moving in with us. When I saw you at the airport. I mean god, look at you."

  "It's not my fault I make you horny," I glowered at him, but my pulse threaded faster at his words. He thought I was hot, he was as intrigued by me as I was by him. I should have been elated at that news had it not been under such horrible circumstances. "You need to deal with your reactions, Barrett. The big bad world isn't going to cater to a spoiled little rich kid whose mommy coddles him and gives him everything he wants. A girl owes you nothing, no matter how hot you think she is."

  He flinched as if I'd landed a blow, and I suppose I had. My words had truth and I was sick of acting like gorgeous guys, especially when they were treated like elite royalty, could do whatever they wanted to any girl they wanted.

  "I know, Steph. I know all of it. Dammit...I'm just such an idiot around you...I feel like I can't control...fuck..."

  His words ended on a strangled noise of frustration and satisfaction flooded my body. Whatever power dynamic we'd previously had was gone now. I was slowly becoming in charge of him and his inability to control his desires.

  And I really liked it.

  "So why did you have those pics?" I demanded.

  "You're sexy, I wanted to look at them later when I was by myself. And I did, I looked at them a lot," he said and his nose sounded even more clogged than before. Blood was still dripping down the front of his shirt and I realized he needed to get home as much as I did.

  "Are you okay to drive?" I asked.

  "You should, if you want," he replied and ran his hand through his hair. "God damn, I don't feel so good."

  "I can’t drive," I admitted and leaned down, looked inside the car. There was blood everywhere and I noticed his lip was split but not swollen and the backs of his hands were bloodied and raw. The two of them had really beaten the shit out of each other.

  "You don't have your license or you don't know how to drive?" he asked me.

  "I don't know how," I said. "I'm sorry. Can we call somebody? Kit, maybe?"

  Lights hit us and a sporty red Range Rover pulled up and parked behind Barrett's car.

  "Fuck, not this fucking prick. I thought I knocked him out," Barrett grumbled. "Just get in and we'll leave him here."

  "Stephanie, are you okay?" Whitt asked as he loped to my side. "What the hell are you doing, Barrett? You fucking coward. You ran away from our fight!"

  "You were knocked out, you tool. What was I supposed to do? Keep kicking you while you were already messed up?"

  "Can you drive?" I asked, looking up at Whitt. He had a black eye and his lip was split and bleeding heavily. His chin looked swollen and I wondered if one of his front teeth was hanging a little lower than the other. He had bruises and blood spattering down the front of his chest and his shirt was torn open.

  "I'm good to drive. I might have a bit of a concussion, but holy shit. Barrett, dude, you look like you're passing out."

  "I'm fine. Now fuck off and let us go home," he said, but his head seemed to shake, as if the car was spinning for him.

  "Get out, Barrett. Whitt is going to take us home. We'll sent Kit or one of the drivers for your car," I told him.

  He protested, but Whitt and I managed to get him out from behind the wheel and grabbed the keys before we locked it up. We got Barrett to Whitt's car and put him in the back seat.

  I climbed into the front seat and Whitt started to drive us home.

  "This doesn't mean I trust you," I said, breaking the silence in the car as he drove. "I still don't trust you at all. You could have set the whole thing up for all I know."

  "I didn't, but I don't know how to prove it to you," he replied, glancing over with a look like a kicked dog. He moved his eyes back to stare straight ahead at the road as he drove. "I can't prove a negative, but I'll help you figure out who set this cruel fucking prank up, okay? I promise that to you."

  "It was more than a prank," I replied and stared out the window, hunched over in my seat. "It was a deliberate attempt to destroy me."

  "Are you gonna let it?"

  "What?"

  "Are you gonna let it destroy you?"

  "No," I replied and bit my lower lip as I contemplated my next move.

  "Good. Because you have nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, most of the girls back at the party are probably sucking dicks right now. They aren't saints, none of us are. We've been fucking around with each other since freshman year, for fuck's sake."

  I didn't reply, I already know what he said was true. It was the same way with most of my classmates back home too, for some reason everyone had passed me over though. We were quiet the rest of the way back to dad's place but I was grateful for the ride, it was way too far for me to have walked.

  When we got there I told Whitt to park at the bottom of the wide, marble fr
ont steps while I ran in to get help. I banged on the staff housing main door, woke Kit up and she brought a couple of the drivers to give Barrett some assistance.

  "I've called the doctor too," she told me as she joined us outside. "No need to take him to the hospital, we can have him examined at home."

  "Are you sure we shouldn't take him to the ER?" I asked, simply happy to pass off the responsibility to an adult even if I didn't agree with her.

  "The family wouldn't want to bring attention to his injuries," Kit replied as the drivers helped Barrett limp up to the mansion. "We're very private around here, I know that might be different than what you're used to but it comes with the territory. There are people who would love to see the Montgomery name dragged through the mud so we mustn't give them any chances."

  I thought about the video at the party and the hundreds of kids who had seen it. My shame reared up again, humiliation prickling the back of my neck and spreading a hot blush across my cheeks.

  Kit didn't notice though, she rushed back up the stairs to assist with Barrett. They got him through the front doors and I was left alone with Whitt.

  "I'm sorry for tonight," Whitt said and stepped towards me. I got the feeling that he was going to make a move on me, try to kiss me or hug me, but I wasn't ready. It had just been too emotional tonight, and whatever spark we’d had earlier seemed to have gone out.

  When he took another step towards me I darted to the side and ducked away. I wrapped my arms around myself, as if I could protect my heart and control the trembling in my limbs by this simple gesture, and I looked up at him.

  "It's been a long night, I can't do this, Whitt," I said and felt for a moment as if I was just a girl saying goodnight to a boy, but only for a moment. The reality of the party, my emotional chaos and then their fight crashed into me though, I dropped my eyes and shook my head. "I have to go, I need sleep."

  "Can I at least text you? To see how you're doing tomorrow?" he asked as I turned and walked away.