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

by Caroline Peckham

  I felt like I’d been punched in the face. “I only did that because you pretended to burn these!” I rattled the box in anger, aching to get to the contents inside.

  “Yes, which is why I don’t lock you in the crypt every night and make you sleep with the dead in penance,” he snapped, his harsh voice making my heart lurch.

  He walked away and I stared after him in absolute fury. That asshole. That power-hoarding, evil nutcase!

  I clenched my jaw, looking to the box and refusing to give up. I just needed the right tools. Then I could get in and take back what was mine. He had no right to keep them from me. He’d had no right to take them in the first place.

  I headed out of the closet with a huff, jogging downstairs as Saint’s music filled my ears. I marched to the kitchenette, grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer before hurrying back upstairs and kneeling in the closet by the box. I jammed the scissors beneath the lid and tried to prise it open with all my might, growling under my breath.

  I tried for several long minutes before realising it wasn’t going to budge and I huffed my fury, tossing the scissors at the wall and cutting into the perfect wallpaper to one side of the mirror. I smirked as I caught hold of the tear and ripped it wider. Then wider still, tearing whole chunks out of the white and silver paper until I’d ruined every scrap of it on the wall.

  Screw Saint. He hadn’t changed at all. At least the other two had apologised to me, but him? He was always going to be a heathen. Always going to keep me as a glorified pet. I’d been so fucking stupid to think things had been improving between us. He dressed me up and paraded me around school like I was a wild animal that he’d trained for his psycho circus. And he hadn’t paid nearly enough in penance for what he’d done to me.

  I stood up, staring around at his beautiful clothes with a vicious smile pulling at my lips. You wanna make me wear all those fancy ass clothes? Then I wonder what you’ll wear when I’m through with yours?

  I grabbed the scissors and snatched a pair of trousers which were folded neatly on the shelf. Then I cut the crotch right out of them and tossed them on the floor. My heart thundered in my chest as I started working through every pair he had, casting them aside as soon as I was done. I was probably destroying thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of stuff, but I didn’t care. Saint didn’t care about me or anything but the perfect picture he portrayed of me all the time, so I was going to royally fuck with that image by taking away one of the things he relied on most.

  By the time I’d worked through all of his pants, I started cutting two nipple holes over the chests of his shirts, throwing them over my shoulder as I finished each one. Then I snipped all of his boxers in half and cut the toes off of his socks. I smiled at the carnage around me, knowing I was running out of time before Saint came back from his workout. I was going to pay for this bad, so fuck it. Might as well get as much revenge as possible on him now.

  I strode from the closet, running downstairs with a thrill in my veins which I knew wasn’t going to last. He’s going to kill me Quentin Tarantino style. Rebecca will be cleaning my blood from the walls for days.

  I grabbed a few cans of tuna which were stacked in the cupboard then poured each one into three separate bowls before pocketing another one for later. I planted the bowls down in the boys’ usual spots on the dining table, mentally refusing to cook and clean for them this morning then left a note on the table. Enjoy breakfast, fuckwits!

  I was so angry to have my letters taken from me all over again. It reminded me that I was still chained, that I’d been lulled into a sense of safety recently. Blake at least had made some effort, but he had no intention of letting me go. And Saint was clearly planning on torturing me forever.

  I kicked on my sneakers in the entranceway so I’d be ready to run and headed back up to Saint’s room, grabbing two rolls of toilet paper from his bathroom then proceeded to throw it everywhere all over his bedroom so it hung from the light and even got caught way up in the rafters above. Have fun getting that down, dickweed.

  I headed into his bathroom, running water in the sink and wetting lumps of TP in it before launching it at the ceiling and walls, making it stick everywhere in his pristine bathroom.

  I hurried back to his room to check the time and my breath halted as the clock just ticked onto half seven.

  The crypt door sounded and I dropped to the floor, crawling under Saint’s bed with my heart in my throat.

  “What the fuck!?” Saint boomed, his voice filling every crevice of The Temple. A set of footsteps came running and Blake spoke a second later.

  “Shit, where is she?” he demanded then more footsteps pounded upstairs. I held my breath as Saint’s sneakers appeared ahead of me, pressing my hand to my mouth.

  “Tatum!”

  I swear, the whole church shook as he marched into the bathroom, kicking the door open and preceded to cuss with every colourful word under the sun. “Where is she?!” he roared as Blake’s bare feet appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “She must have left,” Blake growled. “I’ll wake Kyan.” He jogged back downstairs and Saint stormed into the closet, making every muscle in my body clench as I waited for the world to end. Or for him to burst into flames and turn into a pile of soot.

  The noise that left him was somewhere between a wail and roar. A bang sounded and the crash of shattering glass made my heart tremble as he broke the mirror.

  “Everything’s ruined,” he snarled like a wolf. “Fucking everything!” He strode back out of the room, running downstairs. “Well?! Did you find her?” he bellowed.

  “Her shoes are gone,” Blake said and Kyan’s laughter reached me.

  “Why are you laughing?” Saint snapped.

  “Because now we get to hunt her,” he replied darkly and goosebumps rippled over my flesh. I was too angry to care what they were going to do when they found me. I didn’t give a fuck. Saint couldn’t do a single thing worse to me than what he’d already done. And he deserved to have his entire routine destroyed for keeping my letters from me. He had no right. No fucking right.

  The front door slammed as they left and I crawled out from under the bed, throwing a surreptitious glance over the balcony to make sure they were really gone before heading downstairs. Then I jogged down into the crypt and grabbed every single one of my favourite snacks and carried them back to the couch. I reckoned I had at least a few hours before they gave up looking for me and came back here. So I was going to enjoy my morning stuffing my face and watching a romance movie where the male lead wasn’t a sadistic asshole.

  I shot Monroe a message to tell him what I’d done with a grin on my face and he replied soon after.

  Monroe:

  I know, princess, they have me out looking for you ;)

  I laughed as I kicked my feet up on the table. I was going to be staying with him tonight so I could at least avoid Saint’s rage when it carried on into the evening. Though I reckoned I was going to have to face the punishment of all punishments before then.

  Two Nicholas Sparks’ movies, a bag of popcorn, a large bag of Cheetos and three cans of coke later, the door sounded and my heart jolted. I reached for the can of tuna in my pocket, opening it in my lap as Saint, Blake and Kyan spilled into the church. They all fell still as they spotted me and I gave them an innocent look.

  “Where have you been?” I asked lightly as Saint’s jaw started ticking.

  “Get hold of her Kyan,” Saint growled and I sprang to my feet, leaping onto the coffee table and scooping the tuna into my palm.

  “I’ll throw it,” I warned.

  “Like I give a shit,” Kyan laughed in a low tone, but I hadn’t been talking to him.

  He strode towards the couch as I swung my arm back, launching it across the room and it slapped against Saint’s chest with a loud thwack. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his eyes definitely set fire to his brain.

  Blake stared at Saint like he was a hydrogen bomb about to blow.


  Saint didn’t move a muscle, but his face darkened to purest sin. “Get. Her. Now.”

  Kyan lunged over the couch and I tossed the empty can aside, holding out my wrists in surrender. He frowned as he caught hold of me, tugging me off the table and suddenly he was all I could see as he blocked my path.

  “Haven’t you learned not to rile him up yet?” he breathed. “He’s going to crucify you.”

  “Careful, Ky,” I said. “It almost sounds like you give a shit.”

  “So what if I do?” he hissed and my stomach swirled.

  “Are you going to keep me waiting?” Saint snarled and I lifted my chin as Kyan marched me over to him like a prisoner of war.

  “What will it be Saint? Are you going to drown me in the font again?” I snatched my hands out of Kyan’s grip and stepped up to Saint, staring him in the eyes. “Tie me up, spank me? Or are you going to hurt me for real this time? Are you going to make me bleed, Saint Memphis? Is that what you really crave?” My lower lip quivered with rage and Saint gazed evenly back at me, his eyes narrowed on me like missiles. I moved another step forward, tip-toeing to get up in his face. “I don’t care what it is by the way, just get it over with.”

  His lips twitched and an achingly long moment of silence stretched between us.

  “Saint, maybe-” Blake started, but Saint raised a hand to shut him up and a deadly tension gripped me by the throat.

  “Luckily for you, I have spent my time looking for you harnessing my anger and comprising a three part punishment for you this afternoon,” Saint said with something of a smirk. “Are you going to obey me or are you going to be difficult?”

  I shrugged. “I’ll take your punishment. I don’t care.”

  “You will,” he hissed, grabbing my arm and pushing me toward Blake. “Hold her there while I call Rebecca. This mess is unacceptable.” He marched towards Kyan and Blake’s room.

  “Where you going?” Blake called as he took my hand.

  “To borrow some of your fucking clothes because I’d rather die than dress in the hillbilly shit Kyan wears.” Blake’s door slammed a second later and I released an empty laugh.

  “What’s got into you?” Blake asked, spinning me around to look at him, his eyes fierce.

  “Saint just gave me the reminder I needed as to why I despise him to the root of my being.” I folded my arms and Blake frowned.

  “He didn’t burn the letters at least,” Blake defended him and I pouted.

  “No, but now he’s keeping them from me like that’s perfectly acceptable, saying I have to earn them. I mean, who does he think he is?”

  “The king of the world, duh,” Kyan said unhelpfully as he shoved my empty snack packets off the couch and fell down onto it like he was planning to take a nap.

  “Why isn’t Monroe with you?” I asked, realising he should have been there.

  Blake’s brows pulled together. “How do you know he was with us?”

  My heart juddered as I realised my mistake. “Because you’re the Night Keepers, you do everything together,” I said with an eye roll, covering my tracks. Not that it was illegal for me to text Monroe, but I definitely didn’t want them looking too closely at our communications.

  “He had some teacher shit to attend to.” Blake shrugged, then reached out and plucked a Cheeto from my hair, grinning wolfishly at me as he ate it.

  “So uncivilised,” I teased and he gave me a slanted smile that made my heart pound.

  “Especially in the bedroom. As your pussy well remembers.”

  Oh my god.

  Saint returned wearing some of Blake’s fitted jeans and a Redwood Rattlesnakes shirt, I had to actively ignore how freaking good he looked in normal teenage shit. It made him look rougher, edgier and I liked it. Not that I liked him of course. But I was allowed to appreciate his godlike exterior so long as I didn’t forget about the devil who lived within.

  “You.” He pointed at me and Blake shot me a look that said good luck then walked away.

  I stared at Storm Saint as he closed in on me, ready to meet the gale force winds that were approaching.

  He gripped my shoulder, whirling me around and guiding me towards the front door. I was only dressed in my thin nightwear, but I wasn’t going to bitch about the cold, especially as he eyed me like he was waiting for me to complain.

  “You will be completely compliant with my instructions, do you understand?” he growled in my ear and I gritted my teeth, silently nodding my agreement. I wasn’t going to utter a single word of complaint no matter what he did to me. Even if he shaved my head, cut off my right foot and hung me in a tree for the birds to devour. I was not going to give him the satisfaction of cowering, pleading or crying.

  “The first stage of your punishment will involve drills. If you hesitate with a single one of my orders, you will have to start the stage all over again. Do you understand?”

  I saluted him mockingly, still keeping my lip zipped and his mouth pressed into a hard line. He pulled me around the church onto the lawn that slopped down towards the lake.

  “Walk into the lake and submerge yourself fully then return to me within two minutes.” He checked his watch, gesturing for me to go and I steeled myself as I jogged up to the water like I actually wanted to go for a swim in the freezing fucking lake, striding out into it and suppressing a yelp as the cold surrounded me.

  When I was up to my waist and shivering like a leaf in the wind, I forced myself to drop under the water. I gasped as I came up for air, frozen to the bone as I waded back out again, my pink shorts and cami turning nearly transparent as I hurried up to stand in front of Saint with my teeth chattering. To his credit, his gaze didn’t dip from my face.

  “One hundred jumping jacks. Go,” he demanded and I started doing them as the cold wind whipped around me and water squelched in my shoes. With every jump, I cursed Saint in my mind and counted at the same time. One - dickwad. Two - asscake. Three- letter-hoarding-Gollum. Four – Lord Shitsworth.

  When I reached ninety five I was down to the one syllable, less creative, but still effective insults. Ninety six - prick. Ninety seven - bitch. Ninety eight - ass. Ninety nine - dick. One hundred- c-

  “Good. Warmer now?” he asked and though my blood was pumping, my skin was still dripping with cold water and rapidly cooling in the wind. So I scowled and said nothing, mentally finishing my sentence.

  -unt.

  “Get on the floor. Army crawl to that tree and back. Fifteen seconds. Go!”

  He pointed to the ash which was a hundred yards away and I dropped down, army crawling along and getting covered in mud as I slithered across the ground, my shorts riding up my ass and giving him a view. He was probably loving this humiliating shit, sadist that he was.

  As soon as I got back to him, he directed me to do it again. And again. And again. I went to the tree and back thirty times before he told me to get up. I panted as I stood with my limbs aching, my body filthy, but my will still intact. Even if he had me out here all day like this, I was not going to break.

  “You’re still not getting it, are you Barbie?” he purred, stepping closer. “I am in control. Always. And you are under my roof indefinitely, so you must accept the way I do things or your punishments will grow increasingly more difficult. I thought we were starting to make progress.”

  My upper lip peeled back. “You’re keeping the most precious things in the world from me. I won’t just bow down and accept that.”

  Saint clucked his tongue. “You didn’t even know they still existed until recently. And I will return them to you as I see fit. If you behave today, perhaps you will earn yourself one.”

  “Give them all to me,” I demanded, my blood heating dangerously.

  “It is one if you do well, or none at all. So what will it be? Will your punishment at least be worth something, Barbie? Or would you rather suffer for nothing?”

  “I’m not suffering for nothing, I destroyed your clothes,” I growled.

  “Yes, and thou
gh I am most disappointed in you for that, I can have new clothes sent to me promptly. I’m not attached to the things I wear. But you have acted like a child and you need to learn some respect.”

  “Respect?” I spat. “Why should I respect you? You’ve taken everything from me.”

  “Have I? Or have I given you the world? When you arrived at Everlake, you had no friends, no connections, no status. I’ve given you a loyal tribe who will kill for you, I’ve connected you to the most powerful men in this school, I’ve helped you rise and become a queen worthy of her place among us.”

  “You didn’t make me yours for my benefit, Saint,” I hissed. “You wanted me broken and keeping my letters proves you’re still trying to break me.”

  His eyebrows rose. “I did want that, yes. But I’m not trying to break you anymore, Tatum, I’ve seen the power in you, I’ve seen what you truly are. Now…I’m shaping you.”

  I tutted, looking away from him. “Think what you like, Saint. You can try to break me, shape me or whatever else. But the one thing you will never, ever manage to do, is keep me.”

  Something shattered in his gaze and his throat rose and fell as he stared at me. I wrapped my arms around my body as I shivered, the cold inching into my actual soul.

  “We’ll see about that,” he muttered, then stepped aside. “Go shower upstairs. Clothes will be waiting for you when you’re done then we will start stage two of your punishment. And for the love of fucking Christ, if you wear those shoes inside and trail mud through my home, you will regret it.”

  I strode past him, hurrying around the building and kicking off my shoes on the porch before heading inside. The whole place had been freaking cleaned from top to bottom. Like what I’d done had never even happened. Rebecca.

  Blake looked over his shoulder at me from his armchair, his eyes widening at the sight of me soaking wet and covered in mud. I walked upstairs before he could say a word and slammed the door behind me as I entered the bathroom.

  When I was warmed through from a long shower, my anger finally started to ease too. The way Saint had looked at me kept playing on my mind. Like he cared if I left. Actually cared.