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

by Caroline Peckham

  I was panting by the time I was done and Monroe circled his finger through the air. “Again.”

  Motherfucker.

  I dropped down, my arms burning as I forced out another fifty press ups and started on my least favourite exercise ever. The burpy. Who even invented this shit? They need to be hung, drawn and quartered. No trial, straight up put to death.

  I finished my second round, my heart racing as I jogged over to drink from the water fountain.

  “Did I say you could rest?” Monroe barked. “Again!”

  “Oh come on-” I started, turning to face him and I swear his eyes flashed with the fires of hell. Holy shit, he was giving Saint a run for his money with that expression.

  I growled under my breath, striding back to the centre of the mat and dropping down again.

  Fifty more agonising, arm-trembling push-ups later, I got up, clutching my side as a stitch set in.

  “Burpies,” he demanded. “Down. Now.”

  I fell down with a groan as pain rolled through my whole body and I somehow pushed out another thirty before starting on the high knees.

  I was about ready to collapse when he finally called time on my warm up (AKA the burning-tornado-of-death up) and directed me into the ring. “Wrap your hands, I’m not going easy on you today.”

  “I noticed,” I muttered as I grabbed the wraps, strapping them on before climbing into the ring.

  Monroe came at me like a runaway train and I ducked his first punch fast, wheeling around and slamming my fist into his kidney. We didn’t hold back anymore. We fought hard and dirty. I’d seriously enjoyed trying out the street fighting techniques he’d taught me on Kyan the other night, but now he was being a moody asshole, I was more than happy to try them out on him too.

  I aimed a kick for his leg as he swung at me, trying to get a hold of my arm. My speed was always my advantage against big men like him and Kyan. I had to be fast, get my punches in and escape quickly before they could grab me. I was starting to realise that I didn’t have to be the strongest person in the room to win a fight against someone who was just as well trained as me. I just had to be the one with the most resilience. The one who would keep getting back up. Keep landing hits, keep evading attacks.

  I’d been working seriously hard on my stamina, going for long runs whenever I could and pushing myself to my absolute limits. I also worked on my mindset. Keeping calm and collected was essential in a real life situation. If I was ever attacked by someone like Merl again, I had to stop myself from panicking. I had to be ready to put all of my hard work to good use and go totally psycho, no pulling punches. Because what was the point of being able to win medals and trophies? I didn’t care for any of that. I wanted to be invincible.

  Monroe caught my arm and I snatched his hand in the same moment, using a technique he’d showed me last week as I twisted it sharply, pinching my fingers down on a pressure point. He released me with a hiss and I danced away, throwing another jab into his side.

  He came at me again, a wall of pure muscle and fury and my heart hammered as I got cornered against the side of the ring.

  His fist swung forward and I ducked it, rushing to meet him and throwing my shoulder into his gut, having no other move to play. I wasn’t strong enough to get him off his feet without a run up, but I could force him back a few inches, enough for me to slip past him.

  His hands locked around my neck and he tangled his legs with mine, flinging me around and throwing me onto the mat so hard I almost got whiplash. He was on top of me in the next breath, his legs forcing mine apart and his hands grabbing both sides of my head.

  Panic reared up in me so fast that I wasn’t remotely ready for it. I was in the same position I’d been in beneath Merl, a heavy body crushing me down, his hands gripping my head seconds before he smashed my skull against the ground.

  I started punching, a shriek of fear leaving me as I hit and hit and hit, writhing madly beneath him as I tried to escape. I threw a punch at his face and he jerked sideways, releasing my head and I shoved him off of me with a yell of determination.

  I crawled backwards away from him, my fists raised to defend myself as I brought my knees to my chest, my breaths falling heavily from my lungs.

  Monroe stood up and wiped a line of blood from his mouth. His brows pulled together as he took in the sight of me huddled on the floor and he jogged forward to pull me up. I was suddenly tugged against his body and he hugged me tight to him, his chest heaving in time with mine.

  “Breathe,” he commanded.

  I did so, my forehead falling to rest against his pounding heart as I shut my eyes and drowned in the safety of his arms.

  “You got away,” he growled and I nodded, my throat thick. I got away, I got away, I got away.

  He released me at last, pointing to the fountain and I followed his silent order, taking off my hand wraps as I went to get a drink.

  When I was done, I joined Monroe on the mat to do some stretches, glancing at him from the corner of my eye. I cleared my throat when the silence spread far and wide, deciding we really needed to broach this issue between us or things were going to be forever weird.

  “Look…Nash,” I started, wondering how I was going to phrase this. What I really wanted to say was, I like you. Like really like you. That kiss blew my mind and I’d really, really like to do it again, so can we, like, get down to it? There were way too many likes in that declaration. And anyway, I couldn’t say that. I was supposed to be swearing us off, getting us back on friend terms. But suddenly, I didn’t really want that. I’d nearly drowned in that fire between us and I so desperately wanted to fall into the flames again. Would it really be so bad? If I admitted how I felt…would it change things?

  “Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” Monroe said sharply, turning to give me a stern look and my heart crushed to dust. “We don’t need to talk about it. So far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen.”

  “Right,” I said a little bitterly, reaching for my toes as I bent over and curled my fingers around them. And let’s be dicks to each other while we’re at it, because apparently we can’t go back to being friends now either.

  “We both know where this leads otherwise,” he muttered and I stood up straight, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “No I don’t actually, you’d better enlighten me. Where does it lead?” I placed my hands on my hips and his jaw ticked.

  “It leads to the little rich girl using me for fun for as long as she deems me interesting. Then I end up in prison for it while she swans off and marries some rich fucker with a collection of super cars which try to make up for his tiny dick and beer belly, and she lives happily ever after burning cash and attending galas or who knows fucking what with the ladies who lunch.”

  “The ladies who lunch?” I echoed. “What the fuck are you even talking about right now?”

  “You know what I’m saying,” he growled, turning his back on me as he headed over to drink from the water fountain.

  “Well, it’s not true,” I insisted. “I’m not a lady and I don’t lunch. And the day I marry a guy with a small dick and a beer gut will be a cold day in hell.”

  “Money is worth more to people like you than love.”

  “People like me?” I snarled, my temper burning a line of fire up my spine as I strode towards him.

  “Yeah.” He rounded on me, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Entitled girls who’ve only ever known the easy life, girls who barely lift a finger to wipe their own asses. You think you’re different? Bullshit. You’re all the same. I’ve seen it too many times. Girls at this school preaching about building hospitals for the sick and schools for the poor when they get access to their daddy’s money, but the second they graduate, they’re straight off to their Ivy League colleges where they get their oh so fucking honourable degrees, only to be married off to the highest bidder before graduation. Their careers are just a scam to make them seem like they have actual dreams outside of their golden walls and
a bunch of just-as-entitled brats to raise in their image and grow more fat cats like them. It makes me sick.” He was in my face now, glaring down his nose, practically spitting venom.

  “I guess you’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you Nash?” I said in an arctic tone, trembling with rage. “But maybe you should wake up in the twenty first century, you bigoted, pig-headed, idiot. I have never dreamed of marriage or any kind of fucking walls. I have dreams which have nothing to do with any man I might come to love, hate or fuck in my lifetime. You could take away my trust fund this very second and I would still climb to the top of the mountain of life with bloody fingernails, because I want to. Not because I need to impress some prick with a fleet of yachts or an armanda of fucking golf clubs. I’d rather live in a shack by the ocean and spend my days kickboxing for small change than marry some big-headed douchebag who wants to own the whole world and doesn’t give a damn about anyone but himself. I’d die first.” I turned my back on him, marching across the room and snatching up my bag.

  “You’re staying at mine tonight,” he growled, striding forward to make it to the door before I could.

  “I’m aware,” I snapped.

  He stared at me with a searing intensity as I strode towards him, ducking under his arm as he held the door wide.

  I headed outside into the fresh night air, marching in the direction of Maple Lodge as Monroe jogged to catch me.

  “You can’t be seen walking to my house,” he hissed.

  I flipped him the finger, turning off the path and heading up the track that led around the main staff quarters to the back of his house while he continued along the main path.

  Arrogant dickface.

  I was practically spitting lava by the time I made it around to his house and knocked on the back door. He opened it and I shouldered past him into the lounge, tossing my bag down and making my way directly to the kitchen. I yanked a cupboard open, taking out a huge bar of chocolate before heading to the couch and flinging myself down on it. I tore the wrapper off and took a savage bite of it, the sweetness making me moan despite the situation and I shut my eyes to savour it.

  The bathroom door clicked shut and the shower turned on as Monroe left me to it. I made my way through more of the chocolate, trying not to picture him butt naked with the water streaming over his muscular ass. Except that was exactly what I was doing while I placed more chocolate in my mouth and let it melt on my tongue.

  When he finally stepped out with nothing but a towel around his waist, I forced my eyes away from his bare chest and those abs which made me want to bite down on my knuckles until they bled. Screw his stupid body.

  He strode off into his room and I grabbed my bag, heading into the bathroom to shower. When I was done, I dressed in a silky pyjama combo made up of a pair of pale pink shorts and a camisole top.

  I headed back into the lounge and found Monroe dominating the couch in nothing but a pair of navy boxers. There was an empty plate on the coffee table and he silently pointed me towards the microwave where I found a steaming plate of greasy Chinese noodles waiting for me. My mouth watered as I grabbed a fork, dropped into a chair and wolfed down every last bite.

  I felt Monroe’s eyes drifting to me from the TV show he was watching about truckers in Canada from time to time, but gave him zero acknowledgement as I devoured my food. When I was finished, I grabbed his plate and headed to the kitchen.

  “Leave them,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I shot back, washing them in the sink and stacking them beside it. I drummed my fingers on the counter when I was done, then gasped as Monroe brushed past me as he headed to the fridge. A river of butterflies rushed into my belly as he grabbed a beer and offered me one.

  I took it with a murmur of thanks and he cracked his open, his eyes locked on me as he took a long swig. I watched his throat as he swallowed, the tension in the air growing so thick that I couldn’t breathe. Why was that so mesmerising?

  His mouth twitched before he clinked his beer can to mine and strode back to drape himself all over the couch again. He looked like the most appetising thing ever. I would have swapped the chocolate and the Chinese food for him in a heartbeat. I could just picture myself straddling his thighs, pulling his boxers down and taking his huge-

  “You gonna stand there staring at me all night or are you gonna sit down?” Monroe asked casually, arching a brow at me.

  My skin heated and I ripped the ring pull of my beer open and took an angry sip before moving to the armchair and dropping into it, putting my feet up on the table and firmly ignoring him.

  I actually started to get into the trucker show after a while and I almost missed the sound of my phone buzzing in my bag while I was engrossed in it. I reached over the chair, opening the zip and taking it out, finding Blake calling.

  “Hey Cinders,” he purred as I connected the call and my heart juddered at his gruff voice. “How was your training session?”

  “Good…” I said suspiciously. “What’s up?”

  “Just calling to check in. Is Monroe treating you nice?” He chuckled like he didn’t expect that to be the case.

  “He mostly ignores me,” I answered honestly and Monroe shot me a look in the corner of my eye. “I think he’s got a thing for trucks. He starts panting whenever there’s an exhaust pipe on screen in this weird ass show he’s watching.”

  “Very funny,” Monroe muttered.

  Blake roared a laugh. “Tell him not to put his dick in one of those unless the engine’s been off for a while. Frightful fucking burns otherwise.”

  “I’ll make sure he knows,” I laughed too, twisting around in my seat to give Monroe my back as I dangled my legs over the arm of the chair. It was kinda nice to talk to someone who wasn’t being a prick for once. “He’s gone to jerk off now, I can hear him grunting out the word freightliner in his bedroom.”

  “Oh he’s into the big girls, is he?” Blake chuckled.

  “Yeah, he likes them carrying a heavy load,” I snorted.

  “Is he going in for a long haul or a short haul?” Blake asked.

  A shadow suddenly fell over me and Monroe plucked the phone right out of my hand and I dropped my head back to look up at him as he held it to his ear. “Hey!”

  “It’s my night with her, asshole, so fuck off.” He hung up and promptly shoved the phone directly into his boxers.

  “What the hell!” I jumped up, my eyes locked on the bulge in his underwear as my phone sat right on top of his dick. “Give it back, asshole.”

  I lunged at him, but he caught my waist, dragging me against him and taking me by surprise as I felt my phone and his dick pressing into my thigh. He fixed me with a stare that made my blood ripple and chill. “You were being rude.”

  “How was I being rude?” I demanded. “You’re the one who’s been ignoring me all night.”

  He tsked, stepping back so I was saved from the delicious press of his body. “Don’t talk to other guys while you’re in my home.”

  “You sound awfully like a Night Keeper right now, Nash. And if I’m not mistaken, is that an undertone of jealousy in your voice?” I raised my brows, not backing down from his penetrating gaze despite my jack-hammering heart.

  He growled low in his throat, about to walk away but I stepped forward and pushed my hand directly into his boxers. He stiffened in alarm – in both senses of the word - and I couldn’t help but smile as I grabbed my phone, my fingers skimming up the smooth, hard length of him as I retrieved it. My thighs squeezed together as I got seriously hot for him, but I managed to compose myself enough to retreat with my phone in my hand, giving him an innocent look.

  Don’t ever underestimate me, Nash Monroe.

  His lips parted as he gaped at me and I headed back to my seat, dropping down with a smirk as I turned my attention back to the TV.

  He cleared his throat several times before disappearing into his bedroom and I swear he punched something. He soon returned wearing a pair of sweatpants as he sat back on the c
ouch with a scowl.

  I leaned over to put my phone back in my bag, wondering why it didn’t bother me that his dick had been rubbed all over it, and noticed the note left by my stalker had fallen out of the bag.

  “What’s that?” Monroe asked as I picked up the piece of paper.

  I glanced over at him, figuring I would have told him about this straight away before we’d kissed. But now…I didn’t know anymore. Why should I confide in him when he was being a prick all the time?

  “Nothing.” I pushed it back into my bag and he sat upright, his eyes raking over my face.

  “It’s not nothing. What is it?”

  “It doesn’t matter, okay? We’re not pals anymore so you don’t need to act like you give a shit.”

  His brow creased and he moved to sit on the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and making his biceps flex. “I’m always here for you, princess.”

  His soft voice broke through my walls like a knife sliding through hot butter and my heart pounded faster.

  “Do you mean that?” I asked, trying not to pout as he nodded.

  “I mean that.” He rested a hand against his heart for a moment and I breathed a sigh of relief. There’s hope for us as friends yet.

  I didn’t like that I was keeping so many things from him lately. Since my dad’s call, I’d toyed with the idea of telling Monroe about it, but I was scared of doing so too. Things weren’t the same between us anymore. But I supposed I could talk to him about this…

  “Well…I got a couple of weird poems put in my bag. And today someone left me flowers too. I thought it was Pearl Devickers at first, but I don’t think it can be her.”

  “You think you’ve got an admirer?” he asked, his hands clenching into fists whether he noticed it or not.

  “No,” I whispered, a shiver running up my spine. “Someone wrote Night Whore on the restroom mirror the other day. And there was one time where I thought maybe…”