by R Holmes
I toss the sleeve of Oreos I’m holding and it hits him on the head.
“Fuck, man! Stop chucking shit at me.”
“How about you leave Carmichael to me. Sebastian, you have your hands full being the teacher’s pet… literally, so I’ve got this.”
“Fuck off.” He stands abruptly and storms into the dorms, and I hear our door slam shut behind him.
Obviously, she’s the reason behind his mood for the past few days. Dude’s worse than a girl. Now isn’t the time to confront him about it either. Shit is already fucked-up with Ezra being gone. Unlike most high school relationships, our friendship isn’t fake and childish. Our friendship stems from kids who clung to each other in the midst of their worlds falling apart around them. We’ve all got childhood trauma which forged our bond, and the loyalty we each have for each other is unbreakable. They bleed, I bleed.
“You ready? Let’s meet Rowan at the house and set stuff up, get the place lit for tonight,” I say to Alec, and pull my hoodie on over my head. Black to match my jeans, my go-to outfit. Chucks, Vans. Same shit, different day. Tonight it’s black and white checkered Vans to go with my hoodie.
“Rhys.” I look up and see Alec standing in front of me, wearing a serious expression.
“I know you’re giving Bash a hard time… but just go easy on him, okay? We’re already missing one of us, I don’t want to see him fall off the deep end or some shit.”
I nod.
He’s right. Sebastian’s by far the most emotional of the four of us and it’s obvious he’s going through some shit.
Sebastian’s the good guy, the sensitive one. Alec’s the stoner, who is too chill to give a shit about anything. Ezra’s the life of any and every party. And then there’s me… St. Augustine’s fallen angel. The four of us make up The Kings. Us against the fucking world.
“Yeah, I’ll work on it.” I give him a small grin, and we head out the door together, back into the storm outside.
But Sebastian? I need him to pull his head out of his ass, because the only thing we should be focusing on right now is getting Ezra out. Whatever the fuck it takes. I’ll deal with it tomorrow. Tonight was reserved for Valentina Carmichael.
An hour later, we’re standing in the middle of the abandoned house that’s only a few miles from campus. Tonight, it’s pitch-black outside and the rain pours, but we have the entire house illuminated by candlelight. Not very bright, the darkness still lurking in the shadows of the room, it gives a sense of foreboding. There are mismatched couches and chairs scattered throughout the living room, random tables set up for beer pong… inside tonight, since the sky is falling down outside of the house.
The entire house itself is Gothic architecture that is a looming two and a half stories of brick. The family who once lived here was murdered by the father. After sitting on the market for years, it went vacant until we came along.
Since it's just Alec and I, along with a few guys from the team, the place is eerily quiet. You can hear every creak and groan of the house settling, and it's giving a creepy vibe that sends a thrill down my spine. It fits perfectly with what I have planned for tonight.
I check my phone and see the time. People will begin arriving soon, so I head upstairs to the one room in the house reserved for us. No one is allowed in there unless they're brought in by one of us four. Off-limits.
No questions.
Inside, there’s a king size bed, a table, and a large floor-to-ceiling mirror left by the previous owners. It’s a sanctuary untouched by the high school wasteland that takes over the house every Friday and Saturday night. I lay down on the bed and close my eyes, listening to the stillness of the house, the patter of rain hitting the roof, the wind whipping outside. A small sliver of quiet I want to hold onto for a few more moments. The constant fall of the rain lulls me to doze off. When I wake up, the house is loud with chatter and music. The walls are vibrating with the volume, and there's the same red head from the other night leaning over me, straddling my hips, wearing nothing but a bra and panties.
What the fuck?
I sit up abruptly and she topples over, off me in a huff.
"Jesus, Rhys, what the hell?” she cries and scrambles off the side of the bed.
"How’d you even get in here?"
I get off the bed and put distance between us. I'm thoroughly fucking annoyed at the audacity of this girl.
"We had fun the other night, I wanted a redo since you never finished." She giggles and steps closer.
"So, you thought you could come in here and fuck me while I was literally asleep?"
Her eyes widen when my voice raises.
"I-I…" She stutters over her words and starts searching around for her discarded clothes.
"How about this?" I walk over to where I'm standing right in front of her. "Don't fucking talk to me, don't think about me, fuck, don't even fantasize about your lips wrapped around my cock. That shit is never happening again," I sneer. My jaw clenches in tandem with my fists. Both of which are balled at my side in anger.
"Everyone was right. You are such an asshole, Rhys Blackwood."
"Don't fucking forget it."
She flinches when my voice echoes throughout the room and her eyes fill with tears. She grabs her shirt and pants, and rushes out of the room still wearing only her bra and panties.
Fuck. I can’t help but run my hands through my hair in frustration. A habit I find myself doing far too much.
My phone chimes from the nightstand, a text from Alec telling me Rory is here, and Valentina is with him.
Perfect timing. I can let my anger out on the person who truly deserves it.
Downstairs, the party is electric. Everyone’s buzzing with weekend excitement, a break from the strenuous course load it takes to be enrolled at St. Augustine, and the constant watchful eye of the Catholic church. No room for error. Infractions are ten times more serious here than they are at any normal school. Parents pay thousands of dollars for their children to walk the straight and narrow here, to make sure the outside world doesn’t influence their kids’ teenage years, where they could be good little students. Yet said students would do anything for a piece of freedom. The chance to rebel.
But freedom is never free. It always comes with a price.
People like me would never have the chance to be free. The demons shackled to me would never give me any reprieve from the hell in which I live.
“Yo, Rhys, bad-ass party,” David calls from the kitchen as he walks over to me.
“Have fun.” I give him a fist bump when I walk by but don’t stop to converse. I have one task tonight and it’s to bring my little lamb to her knees.
My eyes search the room for her, only pausing for a second when I see tonight’s red head in the corner with her friends, glaring at me. If looks could kill, I would be dead before I even knew what hit me. I barely let my glaze flit over her as I search the room for Valentina, and I finally find her standing close to Rory in the far right corner of the room, where the glow of the candles is sparse.
She's wearing a baggie hoodie that swallows her frame and a pair of ripped jeans. More bold than I've seen her before. Her hair is in loose curls around her face and she's wearing makeup. Her arms are crossed across her chest, a bored expression takes over her face, but behind it, I can see that she's anxious. This isn't her scene. She's only here because of Rory, and he's only here because I had him invited. When I said the school was mine, I wasn’t lying. It took less than twenty-four hours to know every single thing about Valentina Carmichael I wanted to learn. Including her best friend, Rory, who’s tutoring Alec in calculus.
I watch her across the room like a lion stalking his prey, circling, caging her in. Waiting until the right moment to attack. Strategic, and perfectly planned.
Alec walks up to Rory, shaking his hand and pulling him away to show him around. Before he can, Rory leans in quickly to Valentina and whispers something in her ear, then she nods ever so slightly. Telling her he was going for
drinks, if I had to guess, although she seems nervous about his exit. I can read her lips from here, even from where she stands partially tucked in the shadows. Now there’s no one around to save her.
Just like there's no one to hear her when I take what's mine.
I make my way across the room until I reach her. The first thing that hits me is the light, floral smell of her perfume. It's sweet, almost sickly, and is everything you'd expect from someone as prim and proper as Valentina Carmichael.
It is everything I want to ruin.
The perfect, unblemished, untouched virgin who thinks she’s the holy one.
Piece by piece I'll break her, until there is nothing left.
Even if it’s the last fucking thing I do.
When she realizes I'm standing in front of her, her eyes widen in surprise. She wasn't expecting me to find her, yet here I am.
I slap my hand over her mouth before she can say anything and pull her against me, then walk away from the crowd, toward the hallway. It's completely dark and one of the only spots in the house which isn't filled with people. I ignore the feel of her tight body pressed against mine, and the response my dick seems to have to her, regardless of the hatred I feel for her.
She squirms against my hold, but I tighten my arms, and half-carry her up the stairs toward my room. Once I reach the door, I use one hand to fish into my pocket and pull out the key I made sure to grab and use before I left, and push her inside, slamming the door shut behind us.
"You are a psychopath!" Her voice comes out in a screech as she backs across the room away from me. Each step she takes farther away from me, I take a step closer, until she has nowhere to run.
"Sociopath, but close enough."
“I’m done with your shit, Rhys, I mean it. I am so fucking done with this… whatever the hell you think this is. You think I ratted on you? Fine. You want to hate me for something I didn’t even do, then fine. But this…” She stomps closer until she’s in my face. “It ends here. Leave me alone! Find someone else to terrorize, because it’s not going to be me.” She pokes her finger into my chest with force, and I’m almost impressed.
I capture her hand in mine and squeeze tightly, not letting go when she winces and her eyebrows pinch together on her forehead in pain.
“It’s almost impressive you have the balls to stand up to me. Almost.” I step closer and back her farther into the room. I can’t control the feeling of pure arousal that hits me as she fights back. “But don’t fucking forget who you are. Don't forget who it is you've fucked over. That was your first mistake. Your second was thinking you were safe here for one second. This is my fucking world. My school. There is never a time where I can't find you. Who you're with. What you're doing. You underestimated the most powerful person at St. Augustine. Now, you're a toy for me to play with until I get bored. Until I no longer feel like punishing you for what you've done.” I inch closer and closer, whispering until I feel the pants from her lungs, the heaving of her chest. The tenseness of her body. "How does it feel to have someone’s attention for once? Even if it’s for all of the wrong reasons."
Her eyes well with tears, and the determination she was just so full of slips momentarily and I see my words hurt her. Good. I want to hurt her.
In more ways than she could imagine.
“Fuck you.”
“Ah, Valentina, what did I tell you about your mouth? You must want it to be fucked.”
Her eyes flit behind me and she sidesteps me, darting toward the door. Before she’s halfway there, I catch her, dragging her backward, then toss her down on the bed.
“You see, I’ve been thinking…” I trail off as she scrambles backward against the headboard of the old wooden bed. The candles cast a low, warm glow in the room. Dark enough to feel forbidden, but enough light to where I can read the fear on her features.
I'll never get tired of seeing it etched into her features.
"I've been thinking of what I could do to innocent, sweet Valentina Carmichael in which it fits the crime."
"You're not going to do anything to me, Rhys. If you thought I told before… I'll scream it to the entire school what you're doing to me."
"That a threat? You’re right, little lamb, you will scream… eventually… just not for the reason you think." I stalk closer to the bed and climb onto the plush mattress. Every inch closer toward her, she backs away, then freezes when her back hits the headboard. "Except you're not going to tell anyone anything. You're going to shut your fucking mouth, like you were supposed to do in the first place. And you know how I know?"
I reach out and wrap my fingers around the pale flesh of her ankle, and yank her toward me. She lets out a yelp and tries to sit up, but my hand finds her throat as I straddle her small hips. In this moment, with my enemy beneath me, at my mercy, I feel more power than I’ve ever felt. It’s indescribable and addictive.
My fingers tighten around her throat and her hands fly to my grip on her, trying to pry my fingers off of her. I'm not cutting off her ability to breathe. Yet.
Leaning down, I bring lips to the shell of her ear. "Remember our little… tryst in the library the other day? When I had my finger in your cunt, and you were mewling for more?"
Her eyes widen, "You're a liar. I didn't ask you to touch me, you forced me!"
"Did I?"
I laugh before dragging my nose along the smooth skin of her cheek.
"The way I see it, and the way Sebastian was recording on his phone, it looked like you were very into it, Valentina."
She stills beneath me completely. I think she stopped breathing when I said it. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. I wonder if she's passed out, but the tears leaking out of her eyes show she's listening to every word I'm saying.
"What's wrong, little lamb, have I scared you? Are you worried I'm going to out you to everyone at St. Augustine? Show them what’s beneath your too good exterior, how you're a little slut who wants to be fucked by someone like me? The bad boy who will dirty you up. Is that what you're scared of?"
My tongue darts out to taste the saltiness of her tears I find myself becoming addicted to every second I have her.
"You're evil," she spits, her eyes pop open to hold my gaze.
"Unlike you, I don’t have to pretend to be anything other than who I am. I’d rather be the devil himself than a snitch, or a fucking liar. You're both." I whisper against her lips, "How does it feel to be powerless, Valentina? To know no matter what, no one is going to come to your rescue. You sealed your fate the second you opened your mouth."
I slide my hand under the baggy hoodie until my fingertips slide against the soft, warm flesh of her stomach.
"I want to hurt you, I want to break you. I want to be the reason the nightmares never stop when you close your eyes." My words drip with menace, and I mean every fucking word of this promise. Hovering over her now, it takes root in me and fucking blossoms with her tears.
She whimpers when I tighten my fingers around her throat.
"I'm sure Harvard would never take a student with a sex tape, now would they? It just so happens that Sebastian's dad is very close friends with the dean, and I'd hate to have it land in his email alongside your interview submission. I told you to never underestimate me, Valentina. My reach goes further than you could ever imagine."
The tears flow freely from her eyes now, and for the first time, I see pure hatred in the depths of the stormy blue irises.
"That wouldn't even be the worst thing I could do to you. Trust me when I say, there's nothing more I would like to do than to see you go down in flames. But, I'm enjoying this game far too much to end it now."
I let go of her throat and climb off of her. She sits up abruptly, but makes no move to flee.
"Come here," I tell her as I rise from the bed and stand on the side. I start to unbutton my jeans, and her eyes widen. "Didn't ask, Valentina. Now. Do you really want to continue to do this the hard way?"
She pulls her plump, pink bottom lip into her mou
th, trying to contain her tears, yet failing.
"Please don't do this."
I lean forward and my fingers lace into her long, dark hair at the nape, and I pull her toward me. I'm not gentle, and I don't fucking care. She winces and lets out a faint whimper.
"Take my dick out."
Looking up at me through thick, dark lashes, her eyes widen unbelievably.
"I'm not touching your dick," she scoffs.
I tighten my grip on her hair, pulling her closer.
"Valentina, my patience is wearing thin. Take my fucking dick out."
She pauses only momentarily, as if waiting for me to say I was only kidding when I commanded her to touch my dick.
“You can’t actually think I’d willingly touch you, Rhys. I’ll bite it off. Try me.”
Leaning down, I yank her head up by her hair so hard she winces. “Do you really want to see just how serious I am about this, Valentina? Seems ignorant of you to so easily give up your dream of Harvard.”
She scowls before lifting a shaking hand, then fingers my zipper lightly, slowly pulling it down inch by inch until my jeans hang open, low on my hips, exposing my black boxer briefs. I reach behind my head and pull the hoodie and T-shirt off, and toss them aside.
Her eyes travel the length of my torso, hesitantly, timidly, like the little lamb she is. She takes in the dips at my hips, the tattoos, and continues upward until she pauses at the silver barbells in my nipples. Sucking in a sharp, shaky breath, her fingers dip into the waistband of my briefs, and for the first time in as long as I can fucking remember, my dick is hard, on its own accord, without me forcing anything. Without having to squeeze my eyes shut and imagine anything but the girl who’s on her knees in front of me.
My fingers are still laced within her hair and I give her a threatening squeeze.
"Do it, Valentina."
"I-I don't even know what to do, Rhys. Please, let me go and I'll never even look at you or your friends again. I’ll go back to being a nobody and you can never think of me again. Please."
"It's not rocket science. Do it. You're not the valedictorian of one of the most prestigious schools in New England for nothing."