Glass Heart Savage: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Glass Heart Academy Book 1)

by Lindsey Iler

  “Haven’t you had enough for one night?” She shucks Breaker’s hands off and backs away from us.

  “When it comes to you, sweetie, we’ll never have enough.” He stands, stepping towards her, pinning her against the wall. His hand skims her neck down to her chest. She looks away, piercing me with her stare.

  Is she asking me to stop him?

  “Will touching me make you feel better, Breaker?” Palmer rests her elbows on the half-wall behind her, looking like a guy ready to get some head from a faceless girl. “Touch me.” She bites at her lip, spreading her legs enough to force the fabric of her skirt up her thighs. “Take what you want. It’s yours.”

  She leans forward, skimming her lips against Breaker’s. With the little movement coming from his body, he may be holding his breath. Her nails run along his chest, dancing small patterns into his white t-shirt.

  “What kind of game are you playing?” His hand grabs her hip, his fingers pinching into her flesh, forcing her harshly against the wall.

  “Didn’t you come up here for a taste? At least that’s what Marek said.” She dares a glance at me.

  This girl doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.

  “You make a habit of eavesdropping?” I run my tongue along my teeth, making a show of the attraction I know she feels towards me. She can claim to hate me, but there’s this gleam in her eye I’ve spotted since day one. There’s nothing more sexy than a girl willing to challenge me, and any chance Palmer Weston gets, that’s exactly what she does.

  Not willing to give her any sign of discomfort at the idea of her and Breaker together, I smirk, nodding my chin to my boy. “Go on, baby girl. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

  “You don’t think I’ll do it, do you?” She licks her lips, looking every bit the whore we both know she’s not.

  “I don’t think you have it in you, Palmer.” I step up behind her, gripping onto the opposite hip of Breaker and twisting her so she’s pinned between us. “You fell into our trap once, but that was before . . .”

  “Before you doctored a recording of my voice and made me out to be a vengeful bitch, you mean?” She bumps her ass into my crotch, forcing my body away from hers. Over her shoulder, she winks. “No one invited you to this party, Marek. You’re free to go.”

  Breaker’s eyes widen. No one has ever thrown him off his game. Somehow, in ten seconds flat, Palmer has him flustered and unsure of everything he’s doing. If she wasn’t directly fucking up our plan, I’d pat her on the back for the accomplishment.

  I hold up my hands, happily backing away until I’m sitting on the couch. I rest forward on my forearms. “Be my guest, Palmer. You want your sister’s life so badly? Breaker is the one who can show you what it means to have it.”

  “What’s it going to be, Breaker?” Palmer flattens her palm over his stomach, closing her fingers around the fabric. She kicks off her heels, creating more space between their lips.

  He leans down, hovering over Palmer. He checks back with me, and I nod once, giving Breaker permission I have no right to give.

  Palmer grips the back of his head, pulling him into her fully. Their lips collide, and something slithers through my stomach, forcing me to pay notice to my own reaction. They lean into each other, and Palmer spins, forcing Breaker up against the wall. His hand bites into her back where evidence of my power lays in a small yellowing circle.

  I growl, watching the two of them together. What kind of game is this girl playing?

  Palmer’s hand disappears between their bodies, and Breaker’s eyelids flutter open. He watches her with a mix of bewilderment and hostility.

  “This is what you wanted, right?” Her voice is low and sexy.

  “I can’t do this shit. I don’t know what kind of fucked up game you two have going on, but I’m not going to be a part of it.” Breaker lifts his hands, steps around her, and glares at me. “I can’t believe I fell for this shit.”

  He’s gone before either of us can say anything.

  “You proud of yourself?” I stand, eyeing her reddened lips as I close the distance. “You scared the boy.”

  “You can turn everyone against me, Marek, but one thing will always be true. You aren’t anymore powerful than I am. I just don’t feel the need to flaunt mine.”

  “The only power you hold in your entire body is between those sexy legs.” I press my fingers to her center and find her soaked through her panties. “Looks like you’re a whore, after all.”

  “I’m not afraid of you.” She reaches up and brushes the floppy ends of my hair, then bends down and grabs her shoes, swinging them from her pinky finger. A wild, devilish grin forms on her lips. “And the only reason I’m wet is because you were watching.”

  “Sweet dreams, Palmer,” I call out to her as she’s hitting the steps to leave. She holds up her middle finger as a parting gift.

  I’m the one who has the sweet dreams, though. With Palmer the main focus in them, I wake up, angry and frustrated that, instead of hating this girl like I should, she’s wiggling her way into every dark corner of my mind.

  “How’d last night work out for you?” Breaker knocks on the doorframe and steps into my room before I have a chance to piss. “Your plan was fucked from the beginning, and you know it. What the hell did you think was going to happen?”

  “What plan?” Byron stops at my doorway. Last night, when we got home, neither of us said anything as we passed him on our way to our rooms. Some things Byron doesn’t need to know. He grows agitated from our silence and crosses his arms over his chest, grinding his teeth. “If something happened, then I need to know what it is, in case it directly affects the plan.”

  “Don’t worry, your precious plan is still in place.” I throw my covers off and stand from the bed. “We just tried to intimidate Palmer last night, and we crashed and burned.”

  Exasperated from the whole run-in, Breaker points at me. “What he means to say is, the girl didn’t seem all too afraid of us. She practically fell in my lap when Marek dangled me in front of her like a juicy steak,” Breaker explains.

  I eye him, silently telling him I’d preferred for that shit to stay secret. He shrugs, dismissing my worries. He stormed off last night because he knew both my and Palmer’s motives were fucked from the beginning. I wanted to see if she’d actually go through with it, wrecked at the idea of her hand being on someone else’s skin, but not enough to stop her.

  Watching her tear up every preconceived notion this world has for a girl like Palmer is a drug to me. Witnessing something uninhibited and raw creates a high, like an out of body experience, and yet, I can feel every touch her fingers laid on Breaker’s skin.

  “She’s proven sex isn’t a weapon capable of bringing her down, more times than not”—he knowingly watches me— “so let’s go for something that will hit her deep.” Byron smirks, too happy to be dreaming up ways to torture this girl.

  “What exactly did you have in mind?” Breaker sits on the edge of my bed, concern etching the corner of his eyes.

  We both know what he means. There’s nothing in this world Palmer cherishes more than her sister and her friendship with Delaney. One has already been taken care of for us. Our only option is isolating her further from the world around her. The student body is simple. We say jump, and they will always ask how high.

  “She’s going to be difficult. It won’t be easy,” Breaker says, as if he knows the inner workings of Delaney Chambers.

  “No one said it had to be easy, but is it possible?” Byron smirks, knowing damn well Breaker will do what he says. Breaker nods, answering him. “That’s my boy. Now, it’s time to lay on the charm.”

  We each have our limits. Byron’s are blurred beyond repair, compared to the rest of us. As always, if he has a plan, we know it’s going to be messy.

  Delaney doesn’t stand a chance.

  Chapter Eleven

  Palmer

  What do you do when the four most popular boys to ever grace campus set
their eyes on you as some sort of punching bag?

  You avoid them at all costs.

  Despite trying my hardest to drop Byron’s English class, the guidance counselor claims I’m unable to switch my schedule. Having their attention on me for an entire hour and a half, first thing in the morning, is unnerving. They no longer take up the seats around me, choosing to sit at the top of the class, looming down at me from their corner. I try my hardest to pay attention, but that means my sole focus is Byron, and he smirks every chance he can get, proving he knows how destroyed my mind is.

  After the little run-in with Breaker at the party, it’s as if I’m someone else living inside of my body and mind. This isn’t me. I’m behaving more like . . .

  Like Reed.

  I focus on the windows lining the side of the room. Buckets of rain pour from the sky. My sister loved the rain. Reed was the most carefree person, always pushing those around her to live better, faster, and in the end, I wonder if that’s what got her hurt.

  As close as the two of us were, she had her secrets, deeply hidden in the recesses of her mind. How did she handle the relationship with them? This was the biggest secret of all. I understand and can justify this unbreakable bond between them, and have often wished for something similar for myself, but that’s as far as she ever explained their situation.

  Marek has said things that make me believe their relationship with my sister hadn’t been simple. Nothing with Reed ever was. So, when the opportunity to slither in among them presented itself, it had been an easy choice. Looking for a link to my sister forced me into the lion’s den. They bit me down to the bone, where it hurt, made me second-guess my own sanity and choices, all to rip everything out from under me.

  What I still don’t understand is why?

  “Class is over, Miss Weston. You’re free to go.” Byron’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

  I turn away from the window to see the lecture hall empty of students except Dixon. Shit. I pack my bag and swing it over my shoulder. They’re on me before I hit the bottom step.

  “What has you all in a daze, huh?” Dixon bumps into me, almost tripping me. “You seemed in deep thought all of class.”

  “Don’t you think, at some point you should worry about yourself, and a little bit less about me?” I attempt to walk around him. A hand wraps around my bicep, tightly tugging on me. Dixon grins. “It’s the quiet ones that we need to really worry about, isn’t it, Dixon?” I yank my arm away.

  “You have no idea what I’m capable of. I can destroy your entire world with the click of a button.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that, Dixon, because you’ve already destroyed my entire world.” I sneer at him. “Wouldn’t surprise me if you had something to do with my sister’s murder.”

  My head snaps to the side. An instant sting shifts through my cheek. Marek walks into the room, the door closing behind him to announce his entrance. His eyes shift to my searing pink cheek.

  “What’s going on here?” Marek asks.

  “About to teach this bitch a lesson.” Dixon pushes into me, anger fueling him. His breaths are erratic and uneven. He may be trying to keep his anger under control, but he’s failing miserably.

  “You’re the only one who put his hands on me, and I’m supposed to believe you’re some kind of saint because my sister liked to be passed around your little circle.” I point over Marek’s shoulder as he nudges between us. “Go fuck yourself, Dixon. If you ever put your hands on me again, I can promise you, you’ll find my sister and I have more in common than you think.” Marek grabs me by the waist and yanks me to the door, me fighting him the entire way. “I will fucking bury you.”

  “Say hey to Delaney for us, will you?” Dixon calls out, every word sounding exactly like what it is. A threat.

  Out in the hallway, I place my hands on top of my head, pacing back and forth.

  “Damn, princess. Looks like there’s a fighter inside of you after all.”

  “Is this where you make some dumbass joke about being that fighter?” I puff out a lungful of air and drop my arms to my sides. Everything inside of me says to go find Dixon and prove to him I’m not someone he messes with. “Because I’m really not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Marek.”

  For the first time, I notice he’s not wearing his usual uniform. He’s in black gym shorts and a white cut-off to show off his muscular arms. My eyes roam over his body, from toe to head, and he knows it by the grin he flashes me.

  “I’m impressed, is all.” He holds up his hands in defense of the claws I’m sure he’s half expecting. “I thought the only fight you had in you was with your body, Palmer.” He licks his lips, blatantly checking me out like the dog he is.

  “He’s lucky you stepped in,” I huff.

  “I’m sure if you wanted to get to him, even I couldn’t stop you.” He shrugs, resting against a bank of lockers. “Do you believe what you said in there?”

  I check my watch, and since I have free period next, I’ll entertain this little conversation. Not for his benefit, but for my own.

  “What do you think?” I goad him, sitting on top of the glass display case Marek had bent me over. That memory feels like a lifetime ago. So much has happened since.

  “Your curiosity will get you hurt, Palmer,” he says.

  There’s no way Marek knows my motives. He’s completely fishing for more.

  “I’m already hurt.” I jump down and slam my shoulder into his when he gets in my way. “Don’t you get that?”

  “I’ll see you tonight,” Marek calls out behind me.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “Kickoff is at seven. I expect to see you in the stands, Palmer.” He does that horribly effective thing guys do when they check you out from head to toe.

  Who does this guy think he is? After everything, he still has the audacity to demand such things from me. I’m not on the Glass House Boys’ roster anymore, if I ever was.

  Stupidly, I turn and chase after him. Once we’re shoulder to shoulder, I glance his way and find a grin plastered on his face.

  “Why do you think you’re in any position to be demanding things of me?” I cross my arms over my chest. “After everything you’ve done, the games you’ve played?”

  “You still upset I slipped between your thighs while Byron watched? Or is it the fact that, for a single second, you thought you could change me? Be the one that turns this stone heart to mush?” He shrugs, quickening his pace until he is at a slow jog. Yards in front of me, he turns and winks. “I’m not in any position, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.”

  “Marek!” I shout, running to catch him, bringing us chest-to-chest. “You have glass hearts. All four of you. It’s just a matter of time before someone comes along and exposes the cracks.”

  “And let me guess, you’re going to be that girl.” He circles a finger around my loose, thick strands. “You really want to dance with the devil, baby?”

  “You can’t intimidate me into silence and complacency.” I smack his hand, and he shakes the sting out between us. “Don’t think for a second I’m like the rest of these girls, plucking at the crumbs you leave for them on your boots. Also, Marek, don’t ever make a girl feel bad for enjoying sex. I don’t regret it, and it won’t be used against me.”

  I swivel on my heels and head to the library, needing to spend this hour prepping for my upcoming exams. Halfway down the sidewalk, I chance it and glance back at Marek’s receding back. He checks over his shoulder, locking his eyes on mine. We watch each other, both of our steps slowing, taking in each other. Too far to see, I imagine him shaking his head with a pleased smile on his face.

  I grab two coffees at the café cart and head inside the library, clutching the cups in my hands.

  “I thought you’d never make it,” Delaney calls out when I pause to savor the warmth.

  “It’s officially fall, and I’m freezing my ass off in this uniform.” I throw my bag down and pluck at
the skirt. “You’d think we’d have a winter option.”

  “And not allow the boys to objectify us all winter? They’d never dare,” Delaney jokes, taking the offered cup of iced coffee.

  I sit down and stare off into space, too consumed with the conversation between Marek and me.

  “Earth to Palmer.” Her hand waves in front of my face. “Everything all good?”

  “Had a little run-in with the devils of Glass Heart just now, after first period, and then Marek again right after.” I shift my gaze to her, hoping for some words of wisdom or anything that will help me feel less alone. “I don’t know what to do anymore. He basically said I’ll be at the game tonight or else.”

  “Your parents still not talking to you?” She leans back and takes a long sip.

  “Radio silence. I’m not quite sure if it’s a blessing or a curse most days.”

  The truth is I often think it’s better this way. Every visit since Reed has been built around guilt and uncertainty. They treat me like they’re unsure of who I am without her, and to be honest, I can’t quite get this feeling out of my gut that they’re somehow responsible. Call it a hunch. Call it bullshit, but it’s something.

  Like Reed always said, if something feels off, it is.

  “Well, be happy that your parents are using psychological terrorism against you. Unlike mine, who yield emotional terrorism like it’s their birth right.” The hurt in Delaney’s voice makes me feel uneasy for complaining about my parents.

  She chooses not to speak about them often. From what I know, there’s good reasons. They’re in the middle of a nasty, public divorce. They’ve tried their hardest to pit their own daughter against the other. Unfortunately for them, Delaney is no idiot and has managed to stay neutral.

  Most of the gritty details have stayed under lock and key. Let’s just say, if anyone knew of the bones Delaney’s family kept buried in their backyards, it would make the most corrupt family seem like angels.