Kings of Lockdown: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep Book 2)

by Caroline Peckham

  She stepped closer and I let her, wondering what she was going to do. What I’d let her do. If I was even capable of stopping her right now-

  “We need to get to class,” she said, her breath washing over my lips as she looked up at me.

  “You go,” I said, balling my fists to ensure I kept my hands off of her. “I have somewhere else to be.”

  There was no fucking way I was doing a half day of classes. It was absolutely unthinkable. But there was something I could do to pass the time, and if I let myself believe that I’d always planned for the day to run this way, then maybe I could cope with the rest of the repercussions of my routine going to absolute shit.

  Tatum looked at me in surprise for a moment, like she’d expected me to let my dick overrule my brain and beg for her to stay instead. And maybe I would have if it wasn’t for the rules. Because they were law. And if I broke them then I wouldn’t be able to calm the anarchy by spanking her or fucking her or doing anything at all. Breaking them would be like breaking myself. It was unthinkable. And if the price for that was a day spent imagining what might have happened if I didn’t have to stick to them so rigidly then so be it.

  I placed my hands on the railing exactly where hers had been as she headed away to get dressed and I looked out through the enormous stained glass window in the shape of a cross at the front of the building as I tried to settle my mind.

  Tatum came and went. I felt her eyes on me as she headed for the stairs but I couldn’t let myself look at her, my gaze fixed on the moving orange light of the stained glass as I worked to rid myself of the sexual tension she’d filled me with in place of my demon.

  My gaze flitted to the clock and I released a shaky breath. One, eighteen. What the fuck?

  I shoved away from the railing and headed downstairs, leaving my phone behind as I moved to grab a bottle of water from the fridge and kicked on a pair of sneakers by the door.

  As I stepped outside, the cold winter air bit my bare chest but I welcomed the distraction of the discomfort as I took off up the path towards Ash Chambers.

  I ran the whole way, pushing my body as hard as I could and revelling in the oblivion of exercise until I made it inside the building and found my way to Music Room C.

  The sound of the piano being played reached me as I approached the door, but I didn’t give a damn. I wrenched it open and found the sub-standard music teacher, Mr Plotts, giving a lesson to some freshman asshole who was currently getting his Mozart and Bach mixed up and sounded like utter shit.

  “Get the fuck out,” I commanded as they looked around in alarm and found me standing in the doorway like a half-naked heathen but I gave no shits.

  “Mr Memphis! This is a pre-booked lesson,” Plotts began nervously, trying to pull off outrage while landing on terror.

  “Am I about to make a new Unspeakable?” I asked, my gaze fixing on the freshman. “I’ll call you Eunuch and make sure that the name is accurate myself.”

  “I’m actually feeling unwell,” the kid said, leaping up and grabbing his bag before Plotts could do a damn thing about it.

  I smirked triumphantly as he scampered away and Plotts followed with a huff of frustration before I slammed the door behind them.

  I released a long breath as I took my seat before the grand piano and cracked my neck as I laid my fingers down on the keys.

  There was something about this room which set my mind at peace. The high ceiling and tall windows with their view over the lake beyond and the rich wood of the floorboards eased a sigh from my lips. There used to be a harp in the far corner of the room, but I’d had that removed in my freshman year and they’d placed a blood red chez lounge there instead.

  Coming here the other night had reminded me of why I needed it so much, but it had also proven that I’d let myself get sloppy. I’d made too many mistakes. And that seriously fucked with my frame of mind. So I intended to sit here and play until my fingers were cramping and sweat poured down my spine and every piece I attempted was perfect.

  And if I managed that, then, and only then, would I let myself think about Tatum Rivers moaning for me as I punished her and let myself escape into fantasies about our Night Bound beauty and the possibilities she presented us with.

  Last night kept replaying in my mind over and over again. I picked through everything my dad had said with a fine tooth comb, trying to figure out if I’d missed something. I kept examining the rose-shaped scar on my arm as if it held the answers for me I needed. But only my dad could give me those. The truth was hard to accept and though I should have been relieved to know I was safe from the Hades Virus, I was just anxious about what other truths my dad was hiding.

  My entire afternoon at school was spent in a daze and by the time I was in P.E. and Monroe sent the whole class running laps around the football field, I was kind of glad of the solitary exercise.

  The repetitive pounding of my footfalls beneath me helped my mind relax at last. I was finally starting to accept everything Dad had told me, even though it was a shock. The reason Jess had died made me feel all kinds of things. Anger, regret, hurt. I had no doubt Dad had carried the burden of guilt over her death for years, the shame of being responsible eating him up from the inside. He hadn’t been the same since she’d passed, a light had gone out in his eyes even though he always still smiled for me. Was always strong. A knife twisted in my chest as I thought of it. I didn’t know whether to hate him or pity him. I knew he wouldn’t have hurt her intentionally, but it was so hard not to be resentful toward him for stealing my sister away from me. He didn’t know. He wouldn’t have given it to her if he’d thought there was a risk.

  Monroe blew his whistle and I blinked out of my stupor, turning to look over at him on the other side of the field. Everyone had stopped running while I did another lap. Everyone except me, Blake and Kyan who were both right behind me. I frowned at them as I slowed to a halt, surprised to find them so close without having realised.

  I instinctively looked around for Saint, but he wasn’t there. Last night had been surreal, made more so by the fact that I’d ended up in his arms. Him of all people. Him of all beasts. It made me feel uncomfortable things. Like, how was I supposed to keep hating him so fiercely when he’d not only returned my letters to me, but I’d destroyed something so valuable of his in return for something he never even did?

  It struck me that he’d never even asked why I was crying last night. He’d seemed so uncertain of how to comfort me, yet had provided what I needed without even realising. I didn’t want to see him as something less than a monster though. If I did that, I’d be on a slippery slope. And I needed to hate Saint Memphis will all my heart. He’d done more to me than just the letters, I wouldn’t forget that.

  “What’s the plan, baby?” Kyan panted. “We running another few laps or are you done?” There wasn’t any sweetness in his words, it was just a firm question. Did he need to keep following me or not? But why the hell were they following me in the first place?

  I frowned, looking between them both just as Monroe blew his whistle once more, beckoning us off the field. “Any time today fuckers!” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.

  “I’m done,” I said, offering them a tight smile before walking through the middle of them and marching across the field towards the sports hall. Monroe headed inside before I made it there, ensuring he didn’t have to speak to me. Which was great. Just fucking great.

  It started to rain as I made it inside and I headed through to the girls’ locker room with numb fingers and ice cold cheeks. I soon warmed up under the flow of a warm shower beside Mila though.

  “You were going for gold out there,” she chided and I offered her a smile.

  “Yeah, I didn’t realise I had two wolves snapping at my heels though.” I wished I could tell Mila about last night, but I feared getting anyone involved where my dad was concerned. He was the most wanted man in the world right now. It would put Mila in an awkward position if she found out I was in c
ontact with him. Not that I thought she’d give me up, but still.

  “They’ll eat you alive, girl.” She winked. “Although, can’t say that would be the worst thing in the world. Danny eats me like my pussy is an ear of corn and he’s a chipmunk with an insatiable appetite. I have to worry about what kind of porn that boy watches.”

  I burst out laughing and she fell apart with me. It made me feel lighter at last, the weight of yesterday lifting just a little.

  “You really need to tell him,” I pointed out as we headed out of the showers, wrapping ourselves in towels.

  “I have, but then he starts motorboating somewhere thirty miles south of my clit and I use the time to catch up on my insta. It’s kind of therapeutic.”

  “Mila,” I snorted.

  “I know, girl, I should be training him up harder, but the guy will spend up to an hour between my thighs without complaint. How can I pass up all that me time?”

  I chuckled as I opened my locker, but my laugh fell dead as I found a bunch of beautiful blue forget-me-nots sitting inside. What the hell?

  I took them out and Mila’s eyes widened. “Woah, tell me they’re from a Night Keeper whose heart you’re going to rip out?” she whispered so no one else could hear.

  I frowned, figuring there was no chance one of them would have got me flowers. Then again, who the hell else would know I liked these except Kyan? Would he..?

  I supposed it could be a peace offering and the thought of that made my heart skip a little. Is this his way of saying sorry for being a prime douchenozzle?

  I grabbed my phone from my blazer pocket, tapping out a message to him with a photo of the flowers.

  Tatum:

  I got your gift.

  His reply came in almost instantly.

  Kyan:

  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHA!

  I don’t buy flowers or pick flowers or look at flowers.

  Flowers & Me = NEVER

  I gawped at the rude-ass message, my cheeks warming, but my embarrassment fast gave way to fury as I shot him back a reply.

  Tatum:

  Me & My hate for you and your snark = FOREVER

  “Well?” Mila asked.

  “He didn’t send them. How can someone get in my locker anyway?” I tossed the flowers down on the bench and pulled my sports bag out, placing it down beside them. Idiot, of course Kyan didn’t get them.

  I was pretty mortified for even assuming he would have been responsible for them. And okay, maybe I was one percent disappointed too.

  “Umm, janitor’s key? I guess Coach Monroe would have one too…” Mila said thoughtfully and my ears pricked up. Were they from him? Surely not. How could he know they were my favourite? And he was still acting like a moody bitch since we’d kissed anyway. Couldn’t be him…could it?

  I unzipped my bag and my heart leapt as I found a folded piece of paper sitting on top of my clothes. I grabbed it out, unfolding it, hoping this would give me my answer to the mystery flower giver.

  As blue as your eyes,

  As bright as the sea.

  I watch you always,

  Do you watch me?

  A tremor ran through me as I read those words and I instinctively looked over my shoulder. My gaze fell on Pearl as she dressed, seemingly oblivious to my gifts. Maybe I’d been wrong to suspect her. But this shit was getting creepy now and I was starting to think I had a real problem. Perhaps it was a guy who had a crush on me. But then what about the time in the restroom? That hadn’t been an attempt at being sweet. It was creepy as fuck.

  Mila took the note, reading it as I rooted through my bag for my underwear. “What the fuck? Who did this?”

  “I dunno, but I don’t think it’s who we thought.”

  “Shit, girl, tell Monroe.”

  “Yeah…maybe,” I murmured. “Goddammit, where is my underwear?” I turned the whole bag out but it wasn’t there. My lacy bra and panties…gone. I rounded on the room, my veins burning with anger. “Who the fuck messed with my stuff?”

  Silence fell as everyone looked my way. I grabbed the flowers and the note, waving them. “Who put this shit in my locker?” I surveyed Pearl closely, but she just wrinkled her nose like the idea was abhorrent to her.

  “Who would bother giving you flowers, Plague? Did you put them there yourself to try and convince everyone that boys actually like you?” Pearl laughed, turning away and heading out of the locker room with Georgie. I ground my teeth, turning back to my bag and huffing as I had to put my uniform back on without underwear. It made me feel exposed and I quickly buttoned up my blazer to cover my breasts even though I looked like a complete jackass.

  When I was done, I headed out of the locker room with my bag over my shoulder and Mila beside me. No way did Monroe leave those. And I had the feeling the Night Keepers weren’t fucking with me either. Someone else was targeting me. But why?

  Toby strode out of the boys’ locker room across the hall, jogging to catch up with a few of the football crew who’d left him behind.

  “Hey!” he called, but they didn’t look back. He slowed his pursuit, his lips pressing into a tight line. He looked our way and his eyes brightened as he hurried over. “Hey guys, how you doing? Great running out there today, Tatum. Looked like you were good for another few laps.”

  I shrugged. “I guess I went full Roadrunner today.”

  He laughed enthusiastically. “Are you going to hang out in the courtyard tonight, Mila?” he asked her, smiling so hard it was obvious he was desperate for friends. I guessed fitting back into society since exiting the Unspeakables was a bitch. I thought he’d been blending in better lately, but apparently not. And I kinda pitied him for it.

  “Sure thing,” she said, offering him a kind smile.

  “And you Tatum?” Toby asked hopefully. “Maybe you and the Night Keepers?”

  “Um…” I bit my lip, hating that I didn’t have a choice about that. “Maybe. Depends what they wanna do,” I said with an eyeroll.

  “Oh yeah, I totally get that,” he laughed a little nervously, opening the doors for us as we headed outside.

  Bait was sitting on the wall, trying to undo a knot someone had tied between his two sets of shoelaces, his shiny shoes resting on his lap as he struggled with it. His mask was sitting beside him on the wall and as we stepped outside he scrambled to pick it up and put it on, accidently sending it skittering across the ground and bouncing off Toby’s feet.

  “Oh, sorry man, do you mind?” Bait asked and Toby ran a hand down the back of his neck, looking from the mask, to us, then back to Bait.

  He cleared his throat, turning to us again and waving goodbye. “Catch you later guys.” He side stepped the mask then practically ran away down the path, not sparing another look at Bait.

  I frowned, my gut twisting as I bent down and picked up Bait’s mask, walking over to him. I didn’t like to feel sorry for the guy, but I was starting to think he’d suffered enough for letting the looters in. He wasn’t just outcasted, he was actively ridiculed, bullied and pushed around on a daily basis. And I knew all too well what that felt like.

  “Here.” I held out his mask and he took it with a sad sort of smile.

  “Thanks...you should go. You shouldn’t be seen talking to me.”

  “There’s no one around,” I said gently.

  “Not the point,” he murmured, not meeting my gaze. His copper hair was starting to grow back in the strip I’d shaved down the middle of his head and my heart dipped at the memory.

  “This won’t last forever,” I breathed, unsure why I suddenly felt the need to comfort him. But he looked so alone and I knew exactly how that felt.

  “I suppose not,” he said in a tight voice, the knot coming free in his laces at last.

  Mila cleared her throat. “You coming, Tatum?”

  “Yeah,” I said, saying goodbye to Bait and moving to join Mila as she walked down the path. I glanced back over my shoulder as he put his mask back on, shouldered his bag and started walking down the
hill with his head hanging low. It made me think about the warning Mila had given me all those weeks ago when I’d first joined this school. Play to their rules, keep out of their hair and you’ll have a sweet life at Everlake.

  I’d said hell to the Night Keepers’ rules, royally fucking ruffled up their perfectly styled hair and now I was facing the not-so-sweet life she’d predicted. And so was Bait. We were just two rebels crushed beneath the same heels, and I guessed I had to count my lucky stars that I wasn’t as broken as him.

  ***

  I was kinda dreading my kickboxing session with Monroe. And as I strode along the path in the direction of the gym at ten to seven, I knew I was dragging my heels. Not only did I have an hour of one-on-one time booked with him while getting hot and sweaty, it was also his night to have me stay over at his place. Awkward city, here I come.

  I pushed through the door into the gym, drifting towards the boxing room as I tried to mentally prepare myself for this. Was he just going to be a tight-lipped, grumpy asshole all evening? Was I going to have to put up with his teacher bullshit just because he couldn’t own up to what had happened and go back to treating me like a friend? That was what was most important. I could ignore the rest of my feelings. Right? Right??

  I shoved the door open, striding in with my chin held high and dumping my sleepover bag by the door. As uncomfortable as it was, it was time to fix shit between us. If he was too ashamed to deal with it, then I’d just have to make him face his demons. Because I missed my knight in shining armour. And I wanted him back.

  “Hey,” I said brightly, hoping to break the ice, but he just gave me a cold, dead glare from across the room. His black T-shirt clung to his heavenly frame and I tried to stop my eyes from doing a sweep over his bulging arms and broad chest before my gaze settled on his face -tried and failed obviously.

  “Fifty press ups, thirty burpies, high knees for one minute. Go.” His eyes darkened and I clenched my jaw, moving onto the mats and falling into the warmup routine he’d set without a word. I would play by his rules today, be the best student he’d ever worked with until he just had to praise me. And hug me. Maybe kiss me again…no dammit!