The Replacement: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Thorns of Rosewood Book 1)

by Cassie James

  “I know I’ve probably disappointed you. Of all the stupid things—”

  She cuts me off with a frenzied shushing noise as she falls back against the back of her seat. The anger on her face intensifies as she slumps and stares at me with wide eyes. “That motherfucker!” she finally seethes, and I glance around as if someone might have heard her through the car.

  “I can’t believe him!” she hisses.

  “He didn’t… Uh, he didn’t force himself on me or anything.” I hate that it sounds like I’m defending him, but I want to make sure Macie doesn’t get the wrong idea about what went down. “He came over to apologize about Thursday and then… things just sort of spiraled from there.” I thought the extra information would ease some of her anger, but somehow the words seem to have the opposite effect.

  “Seriously, Piper?” She fixes me with a hard stare. “Tori and Chelsey belittle you in front of half of the school, to the extent that you don’t bother coming to school on Friday, and what, Jude conveniently steps in to make sure you’re okay?”

  “You’re right,” I agree quietly. “The whole thing was just a joke to him, it turns out.” Lucky me, I got to find that out the hard way.

  Macie’s expression softens. “I’m going to kick Jude Alton’s ass.”

  She sounds so serious that I can’t help but laugh. The mental image of her trying to kick Jude’s ass even though he’s twice her size is amusing enough to cut through the tension that’s been building in the car. After a second, Macie joins in as well, laughing even though none of this should be funny to either of us.

  Finally, she manages to collect herself enough to ask, “He didn’t hurt you, did he? I mean physically.”

  “No,” I answer easily. I’m not sure it’s an altogether honest answer, but I don’t know how to put into words an explanation for how delicious it felt when he got rough with me. Plus, I’m still so freaking mad at him that I don’t want to give him the slightest bit of credit.

  “This is so fucked up,” Macie mutters. “Do you want to go kill him together right fucking now? I’m fairly certain I could come up with some inventive ways to get rid of a body.”

  I break out into another quick laugh. Leave it to Macie to suggest a felony to deal with one of The Thorns. Bless this girl because seriously—I’m not sure how I would make it through Piper’s life without her.

  “Okay, I think we’ve had enough. This is a girls’ day. Let’s forget all about boys and their bullshit, because right now what we need is brunch.” I don’t bother reminding her that eating is only a formality for me. I’m happy just to be here, spending time with the one person I can count on as a true friend. So, I smile and nod, and follow her out of the car and into a cute little cafe along the strip.

  My mind returns to The Thorns and The Roses—and Piper—as Macie and I fall into a companionable silence. Piper was strong, but she was also cold all the way to her core. She didn’t care about the people she hurt to get what she wanted. And while I don’t think she was as terrible as Tori Pruitt or Jude Alton, I know her own hands weren’t clean. If I’d been some other girl’s replacement instead of her own, I don’t think Piper Hawthorne would have given me the time of day.

  “Your purpose is to comfort the families and friends of the person who was lost—in this case, Piper Hawthorne. You’re a learning AI, which means you’ll adapt to new experiences and hopefully grow with each of them.”

  Those were Stan’s exact words. But for all the learning and growing I’m doing, I’m becoming less like Piper Hawthorne every day. I’m meant to be a comfort to her friends and family, but how can I do that when I’m growing so different from the girl I’m meant to replace?

  “You are every bit Piper Hawthorne as you are anything else, and you will continue to learn to be her as you move through her day-to-day life.”

  More of Stan’s words. It doesn’t make sense; I was supposed to become more Piper-like, not less. There’s a real fear growing inside of me. How long until Jackie or Roman start to see the cracks tearing up the foundation of this whole charade? I’m not quite their daughter, but not quite not their daughter, either. And I have no idea what that means for me long-term.

  I’m still pondering the questions for a long while, through manicures and pedicures and facials. I act like everything’s fine as I chat and laugh with Macie, but on the inside I can feel the turmoil only growing stronger by the minute.

  Macie oohs-and-aahs as she pulls me along the shops on Rodeo Drive, shopping well past the point when I know I’ve put a hefty balance on my credit card. It’s worth it, though, as I watch my friend’s face light up more the longer we spend together. It’s the one thing keeping me anchored as everything else feels like it’s spiraling out of my control.

  I never would’ve imagined myself as a jewelry kind of girl, but my favorite purchase turns out to be a gold bracelet with a dangling heart charm that bounces against my wrist as we end up shopping the day away.

  Try as I might, there’s still one lingering, dark thought that plagues me with every purchase. Am I enjoying myself because I’m having a great time with my best friend? Flashes of videos and pictures of Piper with her friends or her Mom in similar situations flash through my mind as my smile falters. Or do I only think I enjoy these things because Piper did?

  Hours after we first arrived, Macie drags me back to the car, our arms both loaded down with bags. My new bracelet sparkles, bouncing a ray of sunlight that nearly blinds me for a moment. And all I want—my singular worldly desire in this moment—is to know this was one of the best days of my life simply because I genuinely enjoyed myself. Not because the echos of a dead girl are twisting around inside of me, shaping me into a bad replication of a girl I can never truly be.

  13

  Tyler

  I push my sweat drenched hair out of my face as I head toward the parking lot at the front of the school. My duffle bag is slung over my shoulder, and my cleats clack against the asphalt as I slink tiredly toward my car. I’d normally never be caught dead putting my sweaty ass in my car without showering first, but just like every other day this week, I stayed out on the field working drills until my body literally couldn’t take anymore. My teammates were all long gone and the coaches had already closed the locker room up for the night.

  I groan as I push my aching muscles across the faculty parking lot at the back of the school. As long as Mom doesn’t need anything from my car before I get it detailed over the weekend, I should be fine. I’ll never hear the end of her bitching otherwise. She’s a stickler about us keeping our cars clean. As if my car smelling like teenage boy is a worse fate than the several cars my brother has totaled with his shitty driving.

  My feet still for a second as I round the main building of the school and get a surprise. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders before pushing on, the clack-clack-clack of my cleats echoing across the parking lot. Jude leans over to mutter something to Brennan as I approach, and I clench my jaw when Brennan flashes his eyes in my direction and shrugs.

  “What’s up, guys?” I ask as I toss my duffle bag at their feet and cross my arms over my chest.

  “You’ve been avoiding us the past couple weeks, Hamilton.” The accusation is clear in Jude’s tone. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. How fucking juvenile do we have to be about this? I mean, he’s not wrong. I have been avoiding the shit out them, but how the hell does he expect me to stomach looking at him knowing he fucked my girlfriend?

  I have to pause and suck in a deep breath. 2.0’s not your girlfriend, dick bag. Alton fucked a robot, and that’s on him, not you.

  I offer a shrug that makes Brennan shake his head in disbelief. I don’t know what the fuck they want me to say. Yup, sure have been avoiding you guys. I don’t want to have to talk about what it’s like fucking a plastic girl, and I’m not interested in your plans to run her off anymore. For whatever reason, I’m pretty sure that’d go over about as well as me telling Alton his dad’s a shit dir
ector or mentioning how nobody knows who Brennan’s sister’s daddy is.

  “Nah, I’ve just been really busy with the team,” I answer finally.

  Jude scoffs and spreads his arms wide. “Yeah?” he asks, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from snarking back at him. “Where’s the rest of your precious team, then, Hamilton?”

  “Gone for the day, fucking obviously.”

  “Nuh-uh,” he says as he pushes off the back of my car. “I don’t think that’s it at all.”

  “Yeah?”

  He stops in front of me, and it burns me the fuck up that I have to tilt my head back slightly to keep meeting his eyes. He’s sneering, his eyes pissed, and it takes everything inside of me to keep my arms folded instead of reaching out to shove him back a step.

  “Yeah,” he confirms, a dangerous type of anger lacing his tone. “I think you’re jealous that I got my hands on 2.0 first.”

  “I literally couldn’t give a single fuck that you’ve been inside that thing, Alton. You’ve got a kink for fucking robots. Good for you.” He snarls at my words, but I stare up at him, steadfast. “Some of us have better things to worry about than what the fuck that hunk of plastic is doing with every minute of her day.”

  Jude opens his mouth to retaliate, but the floodgates are open. I glance over his shoulder to see Brennan shaking his head at me, a warning glare on his face as his hair flops from side to side quickly. Fuck that. I don’t have time for their juvenile bullshit. Not when I’m busy trying to live my life and not feel guilty every goddamn second of the day that there’s even a need for a replacement for Piper.

  “No, Jude, shut your fucking mouth and listen for a minute. Pat yourself on the back for fucking her all you want, but don’t act for a goddamn second like that makes me jealous. No, what’s bothering me is you dishonoring the memory of our dead friend by sleeping with the thing that’s meant to replace her. Or did you forget about the real Piper while you were busy getting your dick wet?”

  In hindsight, I really should have anticipated the punch that lands on my jaw seconds after I finish my rant. I stumble backwards a few steps, my hand coming up to touch my jaw reflexively in the few seconds I have between Jude throwing his first punch and ramming his shoulder into my gut as he tries to drag me to the ground. My cleats scrabble against the asphalt, and I struggle to keep my balance. Jude doesn’t fight often, but I’ve seen this fucker get mad. He’s scrappy, and as much practice as I’ve had getting my ass kicked by my brother Elliott, I’m not sure that I’m really up for that kind of beat-down today.

  I angle my arm to get a good punch in on the side of Jude’s head, and I don’t miss the way he grunts as I pull my fist back again. I pummel him again and again as he pulls his shoulder out of my gut and lands a punch of his own. I take a quick step back, and Jude sneers as he begins circling. I’m sure he’s evaluating all his options for tearing me to fucking pieces, but I keep my hands raised in the air in front of me, ready to give as good as I get.

  “For fuck’s sake, guys!” I hear Brennan snap at us, but neither of us is giving in. Jude always has to go all fucking alpha on us, and normally I don’t give a shit, but this time the tension is too high for me to back down. This shit won’t end until one of us is on the ground bleeding.

  “You’re getting soft, Hamilton,” Jude taunts, turning away for one quick second to spit on the ground. I take advantage of that one moment of distraction to dart forward and throw a punch that lands square on his jaw.

  That fucker has the audacity to laugh. He surges forward, punching me so hard in the mouth that my head swims as my feet scramble for purchase against the asphalt. I would have changed out of my damn cleats if I knew we were going to duke things out right here and now.

  Jude nails me again, in the side this time, knocking the wind out of me. I barely resist when his shoulder digs into my gut and he sends me toppling onto my ass. The back of my head cracks against the pavement, and I swear for a second I’m seeing fucking stars. Jude steps up next to me, and it takes everything I have not to flinch. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to clear the haze that’s filling my head from taking one too many hits so close together.

  Jude looms over me with a barely concealed smirk. “We good?” he asks, offering me a hand.

  There’s a second where I consider slapping his hand away and dragging my tired ass up off the asphalt myself. But damn, I don’t want to keep having this fight over and over again. I grab his hand and let him haul me to my feet, wiping the trickle of blood trailing from my busted lip as I find my footing. I wince when he slaps me on the back.

  “We’re good,” I tell him.

  Brennan’s body sags as he sighs, relieved to see this whole thing over so quick, I’m sure. I want to point at him and ask Jude why the fuck he thinks I’m the soft one, but I keep it to myself. There’s no reason to start more shit between any of us.

  Jude starts to walk back to the car, and I take the chance to toss my next words out there. “I don’t want anything to do with 2.0.” I need him to know that now.

  He turns, a scowl darkening his features for just a second before he’s smirking at me in that I’m Jude Alton and I’m a goddamn superstar kind of way. “None of us want anything to do with 2.0.”

  And for just a second, I try to convince myself that’s true. But I see the way Jude’s eyes spark when he sees her in the hallway, the way he smirks when he reminds us he was the first one to conquer her. And tech-nerd Brennan? 2.0 is that kid’s wet-fucking-dream. A robot girl that can suck and fuck and recite algorithms and matrices to him? No doubt he nuts in the shower thinking about her.

  “I mean it, Alton,” I press, ignoring the way my friends both glare at me. I’m not dealing with this shit again. It’s fucking over for me. “I don’t give a shit what you decide to do about her, but leave me out of it. I’m not going to be part of your planning, and I’m not going to pretend to like that thing. Got it?”

  I can see the challenge in his eyes for a nano-second, so I let out a rush of air through my clenched teeth when he finally nods his head. “Yeah, whatever. Guess we’ll do the hard work ourselves.”

  And then he and Brennan are climbing into his SUV, and they’re gone. I crouch to snag my duffle bag, groaning at the spot on my side where Jude landed a solid hit. Can’t wait to have to explain that shit to Coach at practice tomorrow. It’s gonna bruise like a motherfucker. I shake my head as I pop my trunk and toss my bag in with a resigned sigh.

  Whatever. I’d take two more beat-downs if it meant I didn’t have to fucking think about 2.0. I’d take a thousand if it meant I could have the real Piper back.

  14

  Piper

  The red marks covering my exam taunt me as my shaking hands hold it out in front of me. There was a short answer, long answer, and essay portion, and I apparently got everything all wrong. I skim over the first part of my essay, where I’d discussed John Locke and his Civil Society. All of my answers were factual.

  My gut burns as I read the neat handwriting in the margins. You missed the mark of the question—I do not need you to tell me what a civil society is, rather I would have liked to see a well thought out and nuanced argument on the way the idea of the civil society affected the groups of people represented in the films I’ve shown in class. A prime example can be found in the devolution of the civil society in the episode of The Walking Dead I showed.

  I crumple the paper in my fist as I struggle to regulate my breathing. I don’t understand how Dr. Charles expects anyone to make a well thought out argument about civil society when our source material is a dry piece of writing from the 1600s and post-apocalyptic television shows and movies. What do zombies have to do with civil society? Clearly the man has lost his mind and it too crazy and old to still be teaching.

  “You okay?” Macie asks as I shove the exam into my bag with a grunt.

  No, I want to spit, but instead I offer her a tight-lipped smile and head toward the classroom door. I couldn’t imagine
what my Psychology midterm exam was going to look like if I couldn’t make nuanced arguments in a gimmie class like Humanities. I grit my teeth as I push through the throng of students milling around at the front of class.

  Today’s the last day before Fall Break, and we’re getting back grades from the midterms we took at the beginning of the week. There’s a general carefree feel to the air, but I can’t help but feel bitter. Attending school should be nothing more than a formality for me, but here I am failing at anything remotely abstract.

  “Miss Hawthorne, a word?” My feet still at the sound of the croaky old voice calling my name, and I heave a deep sigh. A general hush falls over the group closest to me, and I pass a glare in Tori’s direction as I turn and approach Dr. Charles’ desk.

  “Yes, sir?” I ask, trying to sound as polite as I can manage.

  “I just wanted to express my concern for your results in this course thus far.” I grit my teeth and offer him a tight-lipped smile. I can practically feel Tori’s blue eyes burning into the back of my head as a low snicker passes through the group behind me.

  When I don’t offer a response, Dr. Charles pulls his sagging frame from his desk chair. He leans his hip against the side of his desk and offers me a pointed look. “I’ve spoken with your other instructors, Miss Hawthorne, and you seem to be doing quite well in most of your other courses.” Most? Crap, maybe I really did fail my Psychology midterm too.

  “I have a better grasp on math and science,” I admit.

  “But you struggle in Humanities?”

  “Yes, sir,” I respond with a low huff. What’s the point of this conversation other than to embarrass me in front of the now completely silent group of Roses and Thorns?

  “Miss Hawthorne, I have no doubt that you’re capable of memorizing facts. What you seem to struggle with are emotions and behaviors. I understand, of course, considering your nature, why you might struggle with these subjects in particular.”