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

by Lindsey Iler

  “Enjoying the show?” He smirks, turning around and checking out the other games. He inspects each one as if it’s the hardest choice he’s ever made. “You going to join me, or what?”

  “This is awfully childish, Marek.” I put my tokens into the pinball machine next to his, and we play side by side, harmoniously, as if everything in our world is right and just.

  We both understand it’s not. That’s not the point of this, though. We aren’t here to act like our past isn’t still present in our minds. We are here to try to move past something I’m not sure I’m capable of. Marek is here, forcing me out of my comfort zone to prove himself to me.

  I hate to admit it, but it’s kind of working.

  Marek Hawthorne has a certain kind of charisma. He’s talented at sweeping the negative away, making me feel whole when everything is broken.

  “How do you do it?” I pause with my hands on the buttons, stopping the ball from falling.

  He backs away from the pinball machine, watching me and shifting his eyes to my score. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re like an emotional sorcerer. You can wave your hand in front of anything, and it seems a little less scary. I should be on high alert around you.” I shrug and turn back to my game, focusing on the silver ball dancing around behind the glass.

  Marek’s warm hands cover mine, forcing me to stop playing. The ball falls down the slope and into the hole. Like a breath taken, easy and natural, his hands move down my hips. I’m spun in his arms and lifted until my ass is on the edge of the machine.

  “What are you doing?” I swallow the lump in my throat.

  “I need to ask you something.” He doesn’t touch my hair like I expect him to or whisper in my ear. Instead, he leans back, giving me no choice but to really look at him.

  “Well, are you going to ask or just stare at me?” I poke.

  “At any point, during all of our bullshit, did you ever truly fear for your life?” He bites his lip. Maybe he’s afraid of my answer, or the idea of actually hurting me turns him on. I’m not sure which one it is.

  “What kind of question is that?” I push on his chest, annoyed he’d have the nerve to doubt how he made me feel.

  “No, listen to me, Palmer.” His grip tightens on my hips. “You can claim it all you want, say I pushed it too far, but there had be a piece of you that knew I would never hurt you.”

  “You don’t have to be the one to cause the physical damage, Marek. You allowed that shit to go down.”

  “Answer me.”

  “No, I’m not answering your question.” I shove on his chest again, but this time he moves. “This is such bullshit.”

  “We’re made up of the same fucked up parts, Palmer!” he shouts at me. “You can’t run from the truth.”

  I pause at the front entrance, his words settling into my bones, sending a chill through my body.

  Breaker steps into my eye line. His stare breaks behind me. Knowing Marek is there, I take a step towards Breaker.

  “You all good?” he whispers as he passes on his way to Marek. Clearly in a hurry, he doesn’t wait for my answer.

  Breaker whispers in his ear, and Marek’s eyes widen. Whatever Breaker said has him upset. They continue this, ignoring me as I watch them.

  “We have to go,” Marek says, walking past me. “I can take you back to the dorms.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, not expecting him to divulge anything.

  Breaker cups my elbow, guiding me out of the arcade. “There’s some shit going down at the house. That’s all.”

  “Like what kind of shit?” I step in front of Marek.

  “Dixon and Byron type of shit,” Marek says like I understand what that means.

  “Don’t worry about it. This isn’t the first time, and it sure as hell won’t be the last,” Breaker adds, offering me a forced, sad smile.

  “I’m going with.” I push past Marek and Breaker, standing at the passenger door of Breaker’s Escalade.

  Marek stops in the middle of the parking lot. It doesn’t go unnoticed whose vehicle I went to. There’s no need to explain. He knows why. What he doesn’t know is why I’m hitching a ride up the hill to whatever kind of hell these boys are creating.

  “She seems pretty determined,” Breaker says to Marek, unlocking the car doors.

  “I’ll see you guys up there.” Marek nods and ducks into his truck.

  I watch his taillights the entire drive to the house. Breaker doesn’t say anything, choosing to allow me to stew in my own bullshit.

  A little bit of uncertainty and regret settles in, the moment Breaker parks in front of the garage. He turns to me, watching me, waiting for some sort of reaction.

  “You sure you want to do this?” he asks.

  “I can’t allow this to go on any longer.” I shake my head. “The four of you, this fucked up little unit you have built, is crumbling apart.”

  “It’s not your problem, though. We’ll figure out our shit when we’re good and ready.” He opens his door and circles the car to get mine.

  I step out, casting my attention over the glass house. It truly is a sight to see at night. I’ve never been here, willingly. The last time I was here feels like a lifetime ago.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “He’s broken you down.” Breaker smiles before turning his attention to the front door as it opens. Marek stands in the doorway, uncertain of my presence. “It’s okay if he has. No one, especially me, is going to hold it against you.”

  “He hasn’t, but I’m warming up,” I explain, shutting the car door behind me. With Breaker at my side, I walk inside their house.

  Marek leans forward, dropping his hand to the small of my back and grazing his lips against the side of my head. “I didn’t tell him you were coming.”

  I step down into the sunken living room. Having only spent a short amount of time in the room before, I walk to the windows. Glass spans two full walls. Floor-to-ceiling windows give the boys a nice view of the campus.

  “A boys’ kingdom,” I whisper, turning to find quite the scene.

  Dixon is sitting in a tall backed chair. His face is beet red, matching the color of his bloodshot eyes. The room is in disarray, mirroring the inside of my mind. Breaker climbs up into the low rafters, kicking his feet in and out. Byron leans against the main doorframe. Marek is standing closest to me. They’re cautious, choosing silence over anything else.

  Dixon is the first one to break it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Curious about why Marek and Breaker are worried about you.” I watch him, waiting for a sign or an inkling of remorse inside of him.

  “Why are you here, Palmer? Because at the root of all this, you being here, in this room with all of us, makes no God damn sense.” He’s visibly shaken. Maybe it’s me being here, because he’s right about that. It makes no sense. I don’t owe them anything.

  “You’re afraid of what I’m capable of,” I say to no one in particular.

  “Because you’re capable of a lot.” Byron steps forward. “Just as your sister was.”

  “And that gave you enough reason to turn a blade on me?” I close my eyes, overtaken by the sound of Byron’s voice. When I open them, I pin him to the wall with my stare. “I didn’t play into your part as the damsel in distress, so you made me into her.”

  Marek protectively moves between us as Byron takes a step towards me. I don’t know if Marek’s precaution is for my safety or Byron’s.

  “You’re right.” Byron holds up his hands.

  “And you”— I point to Dixon— “at least have the decency to be able to look at me after what you did.”

  “Hurting girls is not my M.O., Palmer.” He watches me as I walk over to him.

  “Stand up,” I demand.

  “What?” Dixon’s eyes dart around the room.

  “For fuck’s sake, stand up, Dixon. Now.” I offer my hand, and he reluctantly takes it. I pull him up to his full height. He’s
tall, and there’s a jaded darkness to him. “You’re so screwed up in your head, Dixon, and until you figure that shit out, you’ll always feel this way. If you touch another girl like you did me, I can promise you, I won’t be as forgiving.” I shove him back down into his seat.

  “You’re forgiving me?” Dixon whispers. The sadness in his voice crushes my heart.

  “Absolutely not. I just want to know who fucked you up this bad.” I turn my attention to Breaker. He jumps down when he realizes it’s his turn. “Don’t get me started with you. There’s such a strong part of your heart that wants to bring others down, to hold a little bit of control, to make yourself feel better. You pulled that shit with Delaney, and don’t think I’ll forgive you for hurting her so easily. Don’t take our friendship as a weakness inside of me. Ever hear the expression ‘keep your enemies close’?” I smack him in the chest, hug him, and spin on my heels.

  “I guess it’s my turn then,” Marek says.

  I shake my head and drop my stare to the floor. “No, I’m not ready for what you entail yet. I need time to think.”

  “Is this your way of proving you’ve got our number?” Byron speaks up. “We got the message loud and clear.”

  “No, you haven’t.” I scan the room and see the tools for the fireplace in their expensive holder. I march forward, grab the pointy one, and walk down the hallway.

  “Where is she going?” Breaker yells.

  Footsteps sound behind me, but I don’t stop. I push through Byron’s bedroom door, slamming it against the drywall. Irrationally, I check out everything in the room. I lift the fire poker and swing it against anything I can connect with.

  “Holy shit!” Dixon shouts.

  “Is anyone going to stop her?” Byron yells at some point.

  Time doesn’t matter right now. Rage takes over, my emotions rioting inside me until they leave my body in fury and vengeance. This will never make any of it better. Any therapist could tell me that. In the moment, when the metal connects to glass, everything feels right in the world. Once I’m satisfied with leaving nothing in its original form, I stop, regulating my breathing.

  “You crazy bitch!” Byron yells as I push past them.

  I continue wreaking havoc until Breaker and Dixon’s room match their boy’s.

  “Don’t you think she’s done enough damage?” Byron complains.

  “No,” Marek says behind me. “Let her do this. We tried to destroy her. It’s only fair she’s given her chance to do the same to us.”

  He steps aside, allowing me access to his room. Our eyes lock, and everything makes sense now. He understands me. It’s why he was able to talk me off the ledge when memories of Reed took over. It’s how, even when he was hurting me, my soul had been drawn to him.

  He and I are the same.

  I walk around his room, seeing it’s as neat as it was the night I was here.

  “Do your worst, Palmer,” Marek says, startling me out of the stupor my anger and pent-up denial has created. I glance at him, and he shrugs. Only he and I know what he means.

  I start with the walls, smashing the drywall in several places. The first hit satisfies me unlike any of the others. The bookshelf full of pictures catches my eye, and I see red.

  Snapshots of Marek’s life are displayed. None of me, though. I was only a planned, temporary visit. I spot a new one which wasn’t there before. A young boy with a little girl sitting on his lap. They have matching dark brown hair, his messy while hers is in a high ponytail. His brotherly love for his sister pierces my soul right through the photo. Full of hope and love.

  I pull the frame off the shelf, running my fingers across the happy boy’s face. Marek hisses. This is personal, this photo. After all this time, he made the choice to frame it.

  “You’re the reason why,” Marek says. “You were vulnerable enough to talk about how you felt, and it’s been a while since I thought about her. No one knows, and it was time I stopped treating her like a dirty secret.”

  I swivel around and hand him the picture. She’s too precious to him to destroy. Once it’s safe in his hands, I spin around and connect the sharp edge of the poker, savoring the crack of glass as the frames shatter. The one of Reed with them angers me the most. She’s the reason I’m here. Her disappearance, her involvement in whatever is happening on campus, is what brought these boys to my doorstep.

  The blood pumps in my ears, screaming at me. No one tells you it’s therapeutic to demolish things. You see people do it on movies and television, but you don’t know the true worth until you take your first swing.

  Satisfied with my work, I toss the metal bar, and it hits the wall with a clang. Each breath grows heavier until they finally even out. I turn on my heels, a sense of accomplishment easing its way through my veins and freeze at the sight before me.

  All four boys are standing in a line, spectators of my upheaval and aggression. Before everything, I would have cared what they thought, but not now. Their approval doesn’t mean shit to me anymore.

  “Damn, maybe you aren’t much different than your sister, Little Weston,” Breaker says.

  “Boys in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones,” I say, pride and strength in every word.

  “We deserved this.” Byron nods his head, accepting what I’ve done.

  “You deserve a lot more,” I whisper and pin him with my stare. “Don’t think for a second I’ll ever forgive you for what happened on the rooftop. As far as I’m concerned, you died up there. These boys love you, and I get it, I can almost understand, but it doesn’t mean I give a shit about the breath you do or don’t take.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but turns away, leaving me with the three boys.

  “I have some things to clean up.” Breaker points over his shoulder, winks at me, and leaves.

  “You could have at least spared my computer, Palmer, but you’re right. There’s some shit going on in my head. You’re just the first person to care enough to notice,” Dixon whispers as he walks away. He isn’t angry with me. Maybe he’s a little in awe of me, giving me forgiveness for smashing his entire world to smithereens.

  Once we are alone, Marek sits on the edge of his messed-up mattress. I ripped a hole in the middle of it with the pointed end of the poker. He grips the photo to his chest.

  “We deserved all of this,” he says, ghosting his hand around his room.

  “I didn’t break, Marek. I survived.”

  Desperate for fresh air, I step over the wreckage and out of the room. Off the kitchen is a beautiful balcony, lined with a half-glass wall that makes it feel like I’m weightless and unreachable, suspended in air.

  I don’t know how long I sit up here, leaning against the wall. Every so often, Marek brings me a cup of coffee. Breaker covers me with a sweatshirt that smells like him. As the stars twinkle in the sky, Dixon drapes a thick blanket over my shoulders. The view is a time-lapse video, shifting from darkness to dawn until the morning sun comes up.

  Numb. It’s what I am.

  I drop the blanket on the kitchen island, and once again, their domineering and possessive attention is on me. All it took is a fire poker to their belongings, and somehow, I’m one of them now. We have each other’s backs. There’s no way to understand it, and no one would if they knew our truth, but these boys don’t ask anyone for understanding.

  “You all look like shit,” I observe. “Did you sit here all night?”

  “Most of us,” Marek explains, standing to be next to me. His attention cuts to Byron as he walks into the kitchen.

  Byron watches the two of us, curiously and untrusting.

  “I could’ve killed you that night. And I know no apology will make that truth fade, but I need you to understand me a little more, and then you can decide if I’m as inhumane as you think I am.” He grips the edge of the island. “I met your sister when she was a freshman. She was this force, even at her age. She couldn’t walk into a room without everyone taking notice. Much like yourself. I’ve lived a certain kin
d of privilege in my life, and with that, I’ve never known what a true connection looks like. Until her. She allowed me to be myself, no shame, no questions asked. The scars. The ugly. All of it.”

  “And this is your justification for what you did to me?”

  “No, nothing will justify it. If your sister could see me now, I can tell you with complete certainty, she’d already be burying me in a shallow grave. She may have loved me, Palmer, but she loved you beyond reason. I used that knowledge in my favor because, at the end of the day, when I saw Reed’s blood spread all over that dorm room, everything in this world ceased to exist. I lost a part of me that day, and numbness took its place. I’ve always been less than human, a mixture of shattered parts.”

  “Even if I could understand why you did what you did, you almost took me away, erased me like they did her.” The memory of his dead eyes looking at me with such little respect for my life has me taking a step back. Marek notices and moves between us, shielding me with one of his shoulders.

  “What if it was Marek?” Byron offers a way for me to understand.

  “Excuse me?” I narrow my stare on him. Unbelievable, this guy, thinking he can use Marek’s and my relationship against me, even as fucked up as it is.

  “What would you do for him? At the end of the day, what lengths would you go to for him?” His brows draw together, his eyes pained and tortured. “I’m not making assumptions here. I know the way you look at him. Through his cruelty, you still saw him. You don’t get to that level of understanding without love, Palmer.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” I nudge Marek to the side and glare at Byron. “I don’t even know what to feel anymore.”

  “I love her. I’m still madly in love with her, and when I close my eyes, I can see her smile and can even imagine her laughter. Reed was the only person on this earth who didn’t cringe at the thought of loving someone like me.” He shakes his head, disappointment marring his features. Unshed tears glisten in his eyes. Humanity. All it took is Reed to bring it out of him. “I’m sorry that you had to get hurt in the process of my revenge, that I dragged the other guys into it. He’s not the monster I made him into.” He looks at Marek like a brother, a confidant, the exact reason I came up here.