Wretched: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Wicked Brotherhood Book 3)

by Eden Beck

  Heath sits on his bed, struck dumb on the other side of the door.

  “Oh, thank God it’s you,” I breathe, rushing into the room and clambering up onto his lap before he even has the chance to react. “I was worried it might be Jasper.”

  Heath tilts his head up to look at me as I settle into his lap, my legs moving to wrap around his waist—entrapping him in such a way that he can’t pull back.

  Not that he’d want to.

  “Why would you be worried I’m Jasper?”

  “Because” I say, dragging out my words as I rake over him—look over him with hooded eyes, “Because I wouldn’t want to be doing this with Jasper.”

  Not now, not with the way things are … anyway.

  But still, his eyes dart to the door, a question there.

  “Won’t the investigators—”

  I silence him with a kiss, a deep, yearning kiss. My hands wrap around his neck for a moment, but when I pull back, I slide them slowly down his shoulders to rest on his surprisingly strong forearms.

  Not that it should be surprising. Heath’s always been the most athletic of the three.

  Heath’s body reacts beneath me, pressing to my body where my thighs press to his.

  “This is just asking for trouble,” he whispers, his voice thick with gravel.

  I grin a secret grin and press my lips to his, just for a second. “Sure, normally,” I say, between soft kisses. “But the investigators …”

  I’m not able to finish my sentence, because Beck finishes it for me.

  It seems I’m not the only one taken to throwing open Heath’s door without knocking.

  “Heath!” Beck’s voice cries out, his body practically tumbling through the door as he crashes inside, “They’re gone! We’re finally—”

  We don’t get to hear what we are “finally”, before it’s his turn to skitter to a halt—one hand still on the door.

  Beck’s eyes drink us in, frozen and entangled in the bed. At first, a look of shock overtakes him. He blinks several times, shakes his head, and then straightens up as he realizes what he’s seeing.

  But he’s not angry.

  Instead, that devilish grin of his just makes a reappearance—right before he slams the door shut behind him, this time having the good sense to lock it too.

  “Looks like you two have already heard.”

  He takes another step inside, one hand reaching out to brush a wayward strand of hair out of my face. But he doesn’t stop there, his hand suddenly digs into the hair at my scalp, pulling my head back suddenly so I’m forced to look up into his face.

  No sooner have our eyes met than he presses a hard kiss to my mouth. When he pulls his lips from mine, both of us are panting. Still beneath me, Heath only draws me tighter. Presses closer.

  “The only question I have now,” Beck says, his eyes growing bright as he takes the sight of me and Heath in again, “Is … may I join?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Being with Heath and Beck, really being with Heath and Beck, it changes everything.

  But also, in a way, it changes nothing.

  There’s a new intimacy between us, an unspoken softness. And a fire too.

  Mostly fire.

  A fire that would likely burn us to ash if we aren’t careful. Thankfully, we’re not the only ones acting up now that the investigators are missing. They might only have been gone a few days, but already the halls of Bleakwood have returned—just for a moment—back to their former, chaotic glory.

  And in this chaos, we don’t appear so changed at all. Not compared to everyone else. We just appear … restless.

  “I realize this is our last class before the Christmas holidays,” our math professor says, his voice cold, “but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to pay attention.”

  The boy that was talking a row behind me turns bright red and dips his head in embarrassment. I smirk as I scribble down some notes and share a glance with Heath beside me.

  Glad the professor wasn’t paying attention to what we were doing. Though I’m surprised, because when Beck’s hand snakes back as well, he’s less subtle about it than Beck.

  The bell rings and the professor raises his voice to try the tried-and-true “The bell does not dismiss you, I do!” but no one pays attention. There’s a flurry of sounds of paper rustling and books snapping shut as everyone hurries to pack up and leave.

  Heath and I slip out, and Beck attaches to us as we head down the hallway once he’s made a conspicuous stop up at the professor’s desk for some hand sanitizer.

  If my face wasn’t red before …

  “So,” Heath says smugly, once he’s caught up to us, “we’ve thought about what you can get us for Christmas, Alex.”

  Now I feel my face go pale. In the rush of the last week’s … entanglement … I’d completely forgotten to think of something to get them.

  “What’s that?” I ask, trying to keep my voice from betraying my fear and surprise.

  “Well since the school beat us to the punch with your ticket home,” Heath says, “we had to think of something better.”

  “And that is?”

  Beck grins at me. “Going public with our relationship.”

  I stop and stare at the two of them. “I … I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  Both boys are visibly taken aback. Clearly, this is not the reaction they expected from me.

  “Why not?” Heath asks. Hurt is as plain as the confusion on his face as he reaches out and tugs at the edge of my hoodie.

  I smile up at him, but I’m fully aware of the sadness tugging down the corner of my mouth.

  Normally, under any other circumstances, this would be what I want. I mean, it’s no secret that something is going on between me, Heath, and Beck … but it’s ambiguous enough to get away with.

  Making it official is going to do nothing but cause trouble for us, and for everyone else. I know it, and I think they do to … deep down.

  “Because,” I say, “how would it look if the only girl in school is in a relationship with two guys?”

  “Bad, I guess.” Heath pouts. I smile indulgently at him as we head into the dining hall.

  “It’d definitely argue against integration,” I tell him. We head to our normal table.

  “Or for it,” Beck says eagerly, sliding into his seat. “They’d see there aren’t enough girls to go around.”

  I smack the back of his head as I pass by him and Heath bursts into laughter. Beck rubs where I’ve hit him and grins at me.

  “I know right now it’s easy to forget what it was like before, but you know when the investigators come back it’s going to be back to business as usual.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Beck says, his voice dropping low to a rumble that makes my spine shiver as he leans close to my neck. “I’m not sure what you’re thinking, Alex. I can’t just go back to way things were. Not now.”

  Though Heath sits across from me, he leans forward and looks up at me through his long lashes—one hand sliding up my thigh under the table. “Same goes for me,” he says, just loud enough for the next table over to shoot a glance our way.

  Even though it’s the last thing I actually want to do, I scoot back from Heath’s touch and away from Beck’s igniting breath.

  “I’ll miss you two idiots over the holidays,” I sigh.

  “I’ll miss you, too,” Beck says. “But I’ll have this horrible pain in my head to remind me.”

  He raises one hand up to gingerly touch the spot where I smacked him earlier, and both Heath and I break out in conspiratorial smiles.

  The last day before break soon comes to a close and Beck and Heath find me outside where I used to smoke after our last class. Even from the back of the building, I can hear the sound of cars honking and drivers calling out to students to hurry up.

  No one wants to be out here in the freezing, snowy December a moment longer than they need to. I don’t really have a reason to be out here anymore; I just lik
e the solitude, the way my voice steams in the frigid air.

  Besides, I needed somewhere to hide from Jasper. I saw him moving through the hallways like a hunter, and I didn’t want to find myself his prey.

  I mean, I did … I do … but also don’t. It’s complicated.

  At least this, here with Heath and Beck, isn’t. Not anymore.

  “What are you doing out here all alone?” Heath asks, leaning against the wall next to me while Beck slips to my other side.

  I shrug. “Just nice to get some time to myself.”

  “You have your own room,” Beck points out, sliding his hand into my hoodie pocket to grab my own. He laces his fingers with mine. Butterflies erupt in my stomach. “I thought you’d be through with being alone by now.”

  “Sure, but out here hits different.”

  Heath nods. He sidles up next to me, pressing close. Between the two of them and their body heat, I barely need a coat.

  We stand in silence for a bit. I let myself bask in their company, their closeness.

  “We should go on,” Beck says finally, squeezing my hand. “My car will be waiting already.”

  “Yeah. It’s getting dark.” Heath stands up and turns to me. “Which means it’ll get so cold the air might actually freeze your lungs.”

  “I get the hint,” I laugh. “I’ve gotta finish packing, anyway.”

  Heath nods. He grabs my elbow and pulls me toward him so that I’m pressed against him; with my face tipped up, our lips are inches apart.

  He leans down and presses his lips to mine. I feel my eyelids flutter shut as I relish what I know will be the last kiss for a long, long time.

  “Hey, no fair!” Beck protests from behind me. His hands wrap around my upper arms and pull me away from Heath. My eyes snap open as Beck turns me to face him before planting his own kiss on my lips.

  The fervor of it reminds me of our first kiss. My first kiss with The Brotherhood.

  Back then I was still boy Alex and the kiss was as confusing as it was fiery.

  Flashes of that kiss, that memory, resurface and push the kiss deeper. I remember that moment well, when he shoved me against the wall of the locker room and kissed me in a way that was more angry than lustful.

  He kisses differently from Heath. His lips are surprisingly softer, and his hands are gentle as they snake up my waist. It’s different from his usual heat—and I like it. It makes my heart ache to think of how long we’ll be apart over break.

  “Okay,” Heath says impatiently, tugging me away. I giggle as heat rises to my cheeks. “We have to go inside now.”

  I walk in between them slightly off-balance.

  I’m really not looking forward to going back under observation after break.

  For all the right reasons.

  And all the wrong ones too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Heath and Beck refuse to let me take the bus, so instead drive me to the airport in Zurich, which shaves off a few hours where normally I have to take the train. They both kiss me briefly before I board. The flight attendant gives me a strange look when I give her my ticket, but I just grin at her.

  Compared to past flights, this one seems to take basically no time at all—probably because first class is a far cry from coach. Before I know it, I’m wandering through the airport with my passport still clutched in my hand, my eyes raking over the crowd as I look for my father.

  I’m just thinking about how much less jet lagged I am than after past flights when I hear my name called out over the crowd.

  “Alex!”

  I turn in a full circle, looking for my father’s face in the crowd, but I still don’t see it.

  But then I see the hand waving up above the crowd, followed by a familiar—though unexpected—face below.

  “Caleb?” I ask in surprise, heading over as a grin starts to spread across my face. My brother matches my grin as I push through the sea of people to him.

  We’ve barely shoved the last grumpy-looking woman out of the way before he throws his arms around me and crushes me in a bear hug.

  “Surprised?” he asks giddily.

  “Very,” I choke out. He releases me; I gasp for air. “Though not as surprised as Mom is going to be if you take me back in a body bag after being strangled.”

  “I volunteered to pick you up,” he says proudly, pulling me toward baggage claim once he’s allowed me to draw a much-needed breath.

  I shoot him a sidelong glance. “Is everything okay with Dad?”

  Once again, he mirrors my expression. “Why do you ask that?”

  “I guess I just …” I trail off a second. “I guess things have been going pretty well lately, so I just figured it was about time something went wrong.”

  Caleb barks out a laugh. “Well, sorry to disappoint you but everything is in order on the home front. Though …” it’s his turn to trail off and fix me with an overly-knowing look, “It sounds like I made the right decision offering to pick you up. I’m interested to hear just how well everything is going.”

  I smile up into his familiar, grinning face even as my own face starts to redden. I’m glad he’s the one picking me up, really; he’s the brother I’m closest to, the one who actually understands me and sticks up for me.

  He’s also the only member of my family who knows what my school life has really been like since I arrived at Bleakwood.

  I link my arm with his at the elbow. “So then, how are things back at the house?”

  “Chaotic as usual,” he replies easily as we arrive at the baggage carousel. “Spencer brought home a girlfriend for Christmas.”

  “No way! Someone actually agreed to date him?”

  Caleb laughs appreciatively as I dart out to snag my rolling suitcase. Caleb grabs it and pulls it for me.

  “Yeah, and he’s being so weird. He’s trying really hard to act like he isn’t a huge douche nozzle. Blake and Mason are roasting the shit out of him.”

  I sigh happily. Maybe I won’t be the sole target of my brothers’ antics this year.

  It’ll be a welcome change.

  We walk outside into the thin winter sunshine together. The grey clouds gathering and drifting closer to the sun look like they’ll be pouring out rain soon—or more likely sleeting—this time of year. Caleb leads me out to the parking lot and toward a pretty nice pickup truck.

  I let out a low whistle.

  “New car, huh?” I ask as he tosses my suitcase into the bed of the truck.

  He grins. “Yeah. Only downside is now all my college buds want me to help them move.”

  “Do they pay you in beer and pizza?” I open the passenger-side door and slip in.

  “Pizza, yes. Beer, not so much. They’re always stingy with their beer. And they drink the cheapest shit, too, so I don’t even want it.”

  I laugh as he cranks the engine, thinking back—not for the first time since leaving Bleakwood either—to Heath, Beck, and even Jasper.

  They would never be caught dead drinking cheap beer. The one time I went out drinking with them, I know whatever it was they kept pouring in my class was not from the tap.

  Probably some special stuff the tavern keeps in stock just for the Bleakwood kids who wander down. Or used to wander down, back when that sort of thing was allowed.

  But Caleb isn’t a Bleakwood student. Thank God.

  “Careful,” I say, teasingly, “or you’ll start to sound like the kids at my school.”

  “And would that be such a bad thing?” Caleb asks.

  I sit up straight in my chair and in a mocking tone, say, “Oh, it would be a travesty to drink anything other than the finest—and I say finest—whiskey.”

  Caleb makes a face at me and laughs. “You’re weird, you know that?”

  “Oh,” I say, leaning back in my seat to stare out the window, “weird doesn’t even begin to cut it.”

  The truck comes to life and we rumble out of the parking lot toward the highway. It feels nice to be in a regular car. I rode in Beck’s Ast
on Martin to Zurich, and the way it shot down the road like a pellet from a sling made me cling to the seat for dear life. This is much more familiar; lumbering, a little loud, high off the ground.

  Caleb plugs his phone into the phone jack and blasts his music, rolling the windows down.

  “Hope it’s not too cold for you!” he says over the roar of the wind.

  I snort. “I’m used to Switzerland,” I retort. He rolls his eyes. Hoping he won’t see, I still tug my jacket closer to me and stifle a shiver.

  Despite what he said earlier, Caleb doesn’t immediately pry me with questions. We spend most of the drive singing along to music while periodically turning it down to guess at how Spencer managed to convince some girl to date him in the first place.

  Half an hour into the drive, rain and sleet starts coming down as expected, so Caleb rolls up the truck’s windows to keep us dry. It’s let off by the time we pull into the driveway.

  “Wow,” I say into the sudden quiet as he shuts off the engine, my eyes traveling over the house. “Mom actually kept up with her garden, huh?”

  The normally empty flowerbeds running along our porch have actual bushes in them. Stranger still is the fact that I’m still able to see them. Normally by this time of year everything would be hidden under a thick blanket of snow.

  “Weird, right?” Caleb says conversationally. “C’mon; everyone’s inside. Mom’s made enough food to feed an army, as usual.”

  I open the door and slide out. My feet hit the muddy gravel of the driveway with a familiar crunch, and suddenly I’m on the verge of tears. I suppose I’ve missed home more than I realize.

  Even now that I’m technically allowed to be myself at Bleakwood, that’s in gender only. I don’t actually get to be myself.

  Or do I?

  As familiar as this place is, I feel like a stranger in it. Maybe I’m not just a girl from Ohio anymore. Even when I’m away from Bleakwood, I carry a piece of that place with me now.

  I hurriedly wipe my eyes and hurry over to help Caleb get my suitcase out of the bed of his truck, wincing as I realize it’s completely soaked. He laughs.