Wicked Titan: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Golden Olympus Academy Book 1)

by A. J. Logan

  25

  Staring up at the rock wall, I stand rigid, listening as the only sound in the gym is the clock ticking on the wall. Hiding out here until first period seemed like the best plan.

  “Climb with me.”

  I don’t startle at the sound of his voice, which surprises me more than his presence. His voice should terrify me, but he’s just playing sick mind games with me. If he truly wanted to hurt me, he would have already. And the sad part is, I wouldn’t even care at this point.

  Pretending like he doesn’t exist is giving me satisfaction. Envisioning my world before he was a part of it, that’s the ultimate pleasure. He’s caused me to question myself more than anything else. He’s not a good person. He’s said so himself. Yet, there’s something in me that was disappointed in his silence after the elaborate scheme he pulled at the bonfire. I have enough to sort through without him twisting and turning the little sanity I have left.

  Asher steps beside me as I remain silent. “Or do you need a real challenge? I know a good place.”

  A lazy laugh leaves my lips. Climbing with someone requires trust. He’s the last person I’d ever trust to keep me from falling.

  “You’re scared.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, you are scared.”

  “No, genius, I’m not scared.” Though I should be. I should fear the monster beside me, challenging me at every opportunity. Instead, I’m infuriated that he thinks he can read me so well. Perhaps because he usually can, but this time, he’s dead wrong.

  “Then tell me why.”

  My eyes trail up the wall, noting the path where my hands and feet would go with ease to scale to the top of the wall. A clear path that I can’t take. “Because it hurts … it brings out every ounce of pain I’m trying to bury away when I’m reminded my dad will never keep me from falling again.”

  “The pain is going to get worse before it gets better, whether you confront it or not.”

  “Thanks.” My voice is flat as he shifts in front of me, blocking my view of the wall.

  “Would you prefer lies? Want me to tell you it all gets better from here? The world is nothing but a happy field of puppies and unicorns.”

  “I hate puppies.” Ugh, why did I blurt that out to him? Giving him a fear just gives him more leverage. The wall doesn’t scare me, a field full of dogs of any size … that is a terrifying thought. My dad always said to give it time, that I’d grow out of it, but the fear never left after I’d been bitten by a dog that Haley and I had attempted to rescue.

  The dog hadn’t realized we were only trying to help, it went into defense mode—snapping down on my forearm, resulting in twenty-three stitches. My hand mindlessly brushes over the faded scar as I fold my arms across my chest.

  “I hate liars.”

  “Okeydokey,” I reply with a curt nod his way, stepping to the side so he’s not blocking my view of the wall.

  He clenches his teeth before speaking in a forced tone, “And confined spaces.”

  “You’re claustrophobic?” Shock is evident in my voice as I ask him with a raised eyebrow. Did Asher just reveal a weakness? And why am I already suspicious that it’s nothing more than a strategic move?

  “Come climbing with me.”

  “I’d rather run through the field of puppies.” My arms remain folded across my chest as I take a step back, turning to walk out of the gym. Even if I could trust him, I’m not climbing without my dad. I never have and never will. Climbing is a thing of the past.

  26

  I sip my water, studying the science textbook in front of me. Victoria flips the page of her history book. We are enjoying our comfortably silent lunch until a platinum bitch takes a seat next to Victoria. Looking up from our books, Allison gives us a smile as plastic as her boobs falling out of her unbuttoned uniform shirt.

  “Wasn’t that bonfire the best one ever?”

  “Sure,” I reply, looking back to my book as Victoria has already resumed her studies. It’s evident we both want to ignore whatever drama Allison is currently whipping up.

  “Why did you run out so fast, Quinn?”

  She’s not going to let me be. Her existence is even more miserable than I thought. Taking a deep breath, I look up to meet her eyes. “Yes, Allison. You had sex with Grant. Yay for both of you. Run along and go screw him again if it was so great.”

  “It was great, but I knew it would be. It’s not like it was our first time together … Although, it was the first time we had an audience.”

  “You’re nauseating,” I say flatly, recalling the sensation that overwhelmed me when I saw her and Grant screwing.

  “Grant didn’t think so.” She pops a piece of gum into her mouth.

  “Because he’d screw anything with a hole,” Victoria mumbles, looking up from her book. Making direct eye contact with Allison, she says, “Even the contaminated ones.”

  I bite back a grin as Allison rolls her eyes, pushing off the table. I’m satisfied she doesn’t get the heated reaction she was expecting from either of us.

  “Just ignore her,” Victoria turns the page of her textbook without looking at me. “But she did you a favor.”

  “Good point, but she had some encouragement.” I look over to where Asher is usually sitting but his spot is empty. Elliot is missing from the usual group too. They’re probably out wreaking havoc, burning down a village or something. Hopefully, whatever it is keeps them occupied for a while.

  The class I’ve dreaded all day has arrived—woodshop. It used to be my favorite, especially since it’s my last class of the day. Grant is sitting in his usual spot as I take my usual seat.

  “Hey,” he says quietly.

  “Hi.”

  “I’m s—”

  Holding my hand up, I stop him. “Don’t.”

  “Quinn, please.”

  “Damn, dude, she said leave her alone,” Wade cackles, sitting across the table from us.

  Grant lowers his voice as a few people turn to look at us. “Can we at least be friends?”

  “Sure, for an hour every day.” It’s not like I have a choice. The shop teacher assigned each table a shelf to build for a classroom in the school. Lucky me, I’m paired with Wade and Grant.

  “I’ll take it. And I’ll be at Java Knox every morning in case you change your mind.”

  “I won’t.” I give him a tight smile, ignoring Wade cackling in the background. “Let’s get to work on the shelf.”

  We begin working as Wade plays on his phone. This is going to be a fun semester to say the least.

  27

  The week has inched by, but it’s almost over. Two more classes and my third week at the hell that is Golden Olympus will be complete.

  Elliot slides into the usual seat beside me. “Quinnster!”

  I keep writing notes as he nudges me with his shoulder.

  “What?”

  “It’s Friday.”

  “Yes. I know that, Elliot.”

  “There’s a party at Asher’s house tonight. You’ll be there, right?”

  He really should be a comedian because that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. “No.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

  I like Elliot. I really do, though I hate to admit it. He’s grown on me even more as a friend—not that he allowed me much of a choice—but I think it’s safe to say his idea of fun and mine are two totally different things.

  “Oh, yeah, because the last time was such a blast.” I resume taking notes, feeling Asher’s eyes on us.

  “I had nothing to do with that,” Elliot says loudly as a few sets of curious eyes turn to look at him.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Victoria will be there.”

  “Good thing since she lives there.”

  “Invitation is open if you decide to wander down the street.” Elliot walks his fingers across the table before grabbing my pencil and speaking loudly, “We will all be on our best behavior.”

  “I doubt that will be m
uch of an improvement.” Snatching my pencil out of his hand, I continue with my notes. Even on their best behavior, I can’t imagine their group being anything but trouble.

  Grabbing my phone from my bag, I make my way out to the parking lot, freezing when I see someone leaning against my car.

  Mason? What is he doing here? What if something happened to Haley?

  My shoulders tense as I walk to him.

  He looks at the Audi then back to me. “Nice car. I didn’t get a chance to tell you the other night.”

  “Where’s Haley?”

  “She won’t speak to me,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.

  “Why? Screw one of her friends?”

  “No, just her.” A shit-eating grin crosses his face as he pushes off the car.

  “Why are you here?” I ask, my fingers clutching the strap of my bag. I’ve witnessed his sarcastic arrogance before, but I hadn’t been on the receiving end. It was usually reserved for his jock buddies, but it’s obvious he enjoyed updating me that he had sex with Haley.

  The grin is replaced with an intense expression. “Fix it.”

  Mason screwed my former best friend and now wants me to help him remedy their issues. Hell no. “Not my problem.”

  “Yes, it is. Everything was fine before you stirred shit up.”

  “‘Stirred shit up’?” I laugh. “Sure, it’s all my fault.” I reach around him to open my door, but he counters the move, stepping in front of me. Grabbing my arms, he swings me around and my back slams against the car, knocking the breath out of me as I try to comprehend a side of Mason I’ve never witnessed before.

  He towers over me, rage exuding from every pore. Harsh, heated words are spewed at me. “You did this. Pushed us together by disappearing, blowing me off after a year of holding out only to show up and screw things up when you realized I was happier with her. You’ve always been a spiteful bitch that can’t—”

  A swoosh of wind blows past my face as Mason’s grip suddenly releases me. Asher hauls him backwards, releasing Mason with a forceful shove before stepping in front of him. “Get your fucking hands off her.”

  Elliot steps in front of me, his back a solid, protective wall, as I catch my breath. Asher and Mason yell obscenities at each other, their words blending together. I step to the side, watching in shock as Asher tells Mason to get the fuck out of here before he beats the shit out of him.

  Mason looks to me, peeking from behind Elliot, and teases, “Which one’s your new fuck buddy, or is it both of them?”

  Asher lunges forward, but Mason retreats, laughing as he speaks. “Answers that question. Good luck getting the frigid bitch to give it up.”

  Mason is still laughing, unprepared for Asher’s sudden swing, his fist connecting—fast and hard—with Mason’s jaw. Mason stumbles back, only to be caught by Asher’s fist clutching his shirt collar.

  “Leave. You won’t get another chance to walk away because once I start, I won’t be able to stop until I beat every bit of life out of your fucking body.” Asher thrusts Mason back as he releases his hold.

  Mason cocks his head to the side, spitting blood that splatters on the pavement. Finally walking away, he hops in his truck and speeds off, tires screeching.

  Asher doesn’t look my way, he just storms off. Sliding into his car, he peels out of his usual parking spot.

  Elliot rubs his palm up my arm as I startle. “You all right?”

  I nod my head, looking in the direction that Mason disappeared. Mason was always short tempered with his buddies but nothing like the display I’d just witnessed.

  He gives me a slight smile, his usual jokester ways no where to be seen. “Don’t forget, party tonight if you want to hang out.”

  I slide into the driver’s seat, relieved to be in the safety of my car. My fingers dig into the steering wheel as I maneuver down the winding driveway. Turning onto the highway, I’m relieved to not see Mason’s truck anywhere in sight. I drive faster than I normally would because, for the first time, I can’t wait to get to Nathan and Candace’s house and the security it provides. There’s no way Mason knows where their house is, at least I hope not. I don’t even think Haley has the exact address.

  Once I park in my usual spot in the garage, I reach for my phone, wanting to text Haley, but that will probably make everything worse. Instead, I shut my phone off. There’s really no one I’d want to talk to now. I just want to hide away and not deal with anything, but I know nothing is that simple.

  28

  Sliding into my flip-flops, I slip out of the back door of the house. The fact that they never set the fancy house alarm shows just how comfortable Nathan and Candace feel in their fortress. I will admit, it does feel safe and almost comfortable. Why else would I be wandering around outside in the dark at midnight in my pajamas? I’m restless—anger has overtaken the shock of what happened with Mason. I’m mad because I didn’t defend myself. I’m furious about who did come to my defense. Glancing in the direction of the Hastings’ house, faint sounds of music hang in the air, so I’m assuming the party is still going strong, but there’s no way I’m going.

  Pressing the code into the door panel, the latch clicks as I push the door open, tiptoeing into the garage. I doubt Candace or Nathan would mind me hanging out in here, but I’d rather not explain why I’m sitting out here—mostly because I’m not all that certain myself.

  Clicking the button on the small wall lamp, a faint glow lights the garage. It has four slips for vehicles but the only two spots are occupied by vehicles that are supposed to be mine. One in pristine condition, the other rusted, its engine refusing to come to life.

  My thumb pushes hard into the button on the door handle before slowly pulling the driver side door open as it creaks in the silent garage. My hands rub the torn fabric as I move into the seat, pulling the door toward me, but not fully closing it. The battered Corvette envelops me as tears trail down my cheeks, I don’t make a move to wipe them away or attempt to stop them from falling. I’m so tired. Tired of not knowing why my dad was lying to me. Or how he could have lied to me. It was something big. Something that cost him everything.

  A movement near the door catches my attention, my head darts up. Asher stands just inside the door, watching me as he slowly walks towards me.

  I franticly wipe the tears from my cheeks before pushing the car door open, sliding out as I stomp over to him. “What are you doing here?”

  He doesn’t say a word, just steps forward, lifts his hand, and cups my cheek in his palm. His rough skin presses against my face as he soothes his thumb over my tear-stained cheek, his rugged touch tenderly wiping the moisture away.

  My hands fly to my face, brushing his away as I wipe the remaining evidence of my tears off my face. I step away from him, embarrassed that of all people, Asher is the witness to the moment where I let my emotions overtake me.

  His hand falls lazily to his side. “I hate when you cry.”

  “Shouldn’t you be at your party?” I attempt to direct attention away from the fact that I’m crying. He’s not supposed to see me cry. He’ll use it against me later.

  “Yes.”

  “So go home, Asher.” I move to step around him, but he shifts in front of me, so I retreat back, pressing against the smooth wall as he remains an unrelenting force in front of me.

  His hands press against the wall on both sides of my head as he leans forward, his lips near mine. I smell liquor on his breath.

  “You’re drunk.” I’m annoyed. He couldn’t be like a normal person and drunk text, or even drunk dial. He had to take it a step further. “Go enjoy your party, Asher.”

  Brushing his lips against mine, he trails across my cheek then lower, his breath warm on my neck as his palms smooth up my bare arms. “I can’t. All I can see are his hands on you.”

  His palms lightly stroke the tender area where Mason had gripped my arms.

  The tender contact is rapidly disarming my irritation towards Asher. I have to latch onto
my anger, without it, there’s too much I don’t want to feel for him. It’s the same battle I’ve tried to conquer since the moment he pried his way into my existence, making himself known and not easily forgotten.

  “I’m okay.” My voice comes out shaky and breathy as he flattens his hands back against the wall, leaving a void without his gentle touch. That same touch reaches places deep within me in a way no one has in the past. And I’m so exhausted from fighting it, from struggling to not desire him, but I grasp onto the disgust he also summons. No matter how hard I try, his tremendous, unyielding hold won’t release me.

  “I’m not.” His glassy eyes meet mine, the faint light reflecting in them. For a moment, there’s a look of remorse in his eyes, but before I get a chance to consider another side of Asher, the veil is lifted once again. “You’re so fucking confining.”

  “I’m confining? That’s ironic of you to say since you’re the one who has me trapped against the wall. Again.”

  “Every look pushes me deeper, every look since I first laid eyes on you, knowing I’d still make you hate me.”

  “Asher.” His name comes out as a moan. Pressing against me, his strong hands drop to my hips, firmly gripping me as the hard bulge in his jeans rubs against the thin layer of my cotton shorts. My fingers grasp his shirt, holding on as I rock against him, failing to resist the sensation he conjures within me from both his exposing declaration and his rock-hard cock.

  “Tell me no, and I’ll leave. Or beg, tell me that you want to feel me as much as I want to taste you.” His teeth playfully nip at my neck, fueling desire that effortlessly overcomes my rational thoughts as his tongue feathers along my skin.

  Desperately clutching the material of his shirt, I pray to whichever Greek god is in charge of lust to bestow upon me strength and humility, because I’m about to beg Golden Olympus’s wickedest titan to dominate me. Because, oh. I. Want. Him. To. Taste. Me.