Cocky F*ck: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 2)

Home > Other > Cocky F*ck: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 2) > Page 4
Cocky F*ck: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 2) Page 4

by Sheridan Anne


  I see fucking red.

  No one talks about my mother. Period.

  If he was talking about just me, I might have found the will power to ignore him and keep walking, but after the weekend I just endured, he couldn’t have picked a worse time to fuck with me.

  This is more than just me. So much more. Not only did he bring my mother into this—a woman who has fought so damn hard over the past few months just to keep us alive—he’s referring to my whole damn community. Every last person I grew up with, all the people who made me the person I am today. He’s referring to my boys. Nic. My whole damn world and nobody gets away with disrespecting that.

  He will be punished, and I sure as hell will enjoy every last second of it because this is who I am. I grew up fighting on the streets, I grew up fighting for my rights, and I grew up with respect for those of us who are doing it hard. The people in Bellevue Springs don’t know what it’s like, but this guy is about to figure it out the hard way.

  I run at him, throwing myself in the air until I’m coming down over him. His eyes widen with the split second of warning before I’m climbing him like a tree. He tries to push me away, but my hands curl into fists and slam down hard against his jaw as his pathetic attempts of saving himself are rendered useless.

  The guy falls back and his friends start howling with laughter, moving away to watch the show instead of helping their friend. Without the crowd at his back, he falls to the ground, and after steadying myself on his chest, I show him exactly what this trash is made of.

  My weight sits heavily on his chest and I nail my fists against him as quickly as I can, not allowing him the chance to grab hold of me as he desperately tries to protect himself, just the way Kairo had taught me.

  He will not get away with this.

  Not only is he disrespecting me and the way I was raised, but he’s disrespecting Colton and his father. Who the fuck does that? Back home, no one would dream of speaking ill of a man who was just murdered in cold blood. It’s wrong on so many levels.

  My fists start to hurt but I keep pounding away for all the times I’ve been looked down on, for every shitty comment thrown my way, and for every fucker in this place who has constantly underestimated me. I’m back to my roots, feeling like the girl I used to be. I’ve been on my best behavior here … well, mostly. I haven’t lashed out like this at anyone and to me, that’s considered a miracle. The old Ocean is back and from now on, I’m standing tall.

  Strong arms curl around my waist and I’m pulled off the king of the douches, kicking and screaming. “Let me go,” I demand, clawing at the arm when I realize it’s not Milo’s.

  “Chill, babe,” Charlie says in my ear. “You’ve done enough.”

  I relax against him and allow him to pull me away while Milo and Spencer follow along. I have no idea where these two came from as I’m damn sure they weren’t here when I first started laying into that fucker—though it seems that a lot of people weren’t here when this shit started. The crowd has nearly tripled and—not that I give a shit— there are at least twenty cameras on us. Come tomorrow though …

  Charlie doesn’t release his hold on me until we’re standing in front of my locker and all three boys are crowding around me, making it impossible to escape. “What the hell was that?” Charlie asks. “Do you even know who that guy is?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Should I? He’s just another spoiled rich kid who learned not to play with fire.”

  Spencer groans. “That’s Marcus Dawson. His father is on the board for three of Charles’ businesses. If you fucked him up, that would mean trouble for Colton.”

  “Please,” I scoff. “Look at me. I’m 5’2. No proud father is about to go and tell the world that his 6-foot son just got his ass whooped by some trailer trash girl from Breakers Flats. Trust me, even with the footage, they’ll deny it or call it some sort of distasteful prank.”

  “Yeah,” Spencer scoffs. “To the media, they will, but to Colton, it’s a fucking bomb sitting under his ass that he now has to diffuse. He’s got enough shit to deal with, he doesn’t need you creating more fucking drama all the time.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I demand, stepping into him. “You better watch yourself. I won’t hesitate to put you in the ground.”

  “Chill out, tiger. Just saying it how it is.”

  “No. You’re being a dick because you’re just like the rest of the fucking spoiled asshats around here. Besides, what I do has nothing to do with Colton. If that fucker’s moneybags daddy has an issue, then he can bring it to me. I don’t need Colton fighting my battles.”

  Spencer narrows his eyes. “What the hell has gotten into you over the last few days? You’re being a fucking bitch.”

  “Oh, did I miss the part where we became friends?”

  “Are you forgetting that little chat we had by the pool?”

  “You mean when you came at me during the party and shoved Colton so far down my throat that I’ll be shitting him for the next week? The chat where you thought about what was best for him and didn’t give a damn about what I might want? Or, maybe it was the little ‘chat’ you forced on me to keep me outside and allow Jude the time to get to me?”

  Spencer’s eyes bug out of his head before he grabs me and slams me up against my locker while being careful not to press his body too close to mine, remembering what had happened on Saturday night. “I had nothing to do with that,” he spits, holding me tight. “Jude acted alone and don’t you fucking forget that. I won't let you bring me down for something that he did. So, despite what you may think, we’re the fucking good guys.”

  Spencer lets out a breath and eases up on his hold but doesn’t completely move away. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, Ocean. I thought we were chill. I saw the way you were looking at Colton during that party and I damn well know how he feels about you so stop trying to deny shit. We’re here trying to fucking help you.”

  He releases me and we remain in some sort of twisted stare off. “That’s over,” I tell him. “He doesn’t feel shit for me. Not anymore.”

  Spencer doesn’t dare look away until Charlie finally steps in and looks between us. “Okaaay,” he says slowly. “I’m not even going to pretend that I know what the fuck is going on here, but did you just say that Jude was at the masquerade party on Saturday night?”

  Fuck. I don’t want to go there.

  I turn my gaze on Charlie and watch as he retreats from my stare. “Yeah, what about it?”

  His brows furrow, unsure why I’m coming at him with an attitude and honestly, I’m a little unsure myself. All I know is that I have a shitload of pent-up aggression and I’d like nothing more than to go back outside and work it all out on that dickhead’s face. “Did you speak to him? He’s fucking missing. You know that right? No one has seen him in days. Not since ...”

  Charlie looks up at Spencer and I can practically read the messages passing between them. Charlie had promised me that they’d handle Jude after he had the whole school sexually harass me, but that was over two weeks ago. What they don’t know is that after they were done with him, Nic also paid him a visit and that visit would have been near lethal.

  What’s clear is that Charlie has no idea what happened on Saturday night and for some reason, I prefer it that way. Charlie is so sweet and innocent. Perhaps innocent is the wrong word but compared to Jude, Colton, and Spencer, Charlie is practically a saint. He doesn’t look at me with that same disgust the others do, he treats me like an equal, like someone worth waiting for.

  Guilt flares through me. The idea of not being honest with him doesn’t sit well in my stomach, but then a lot of the shit that has gone down over the past forty-eight hours doesn’t sit well either. In comparison, not telling him this one little detail isn’t exactly going to change anything. It’ll probably save him from looking at me like the rest of the guys did. If he knew … fuck. I don’t even want to think about that. Charlie and Milo are the only two good things to happen to m
e in Bellevue Springs and I don’t want to ruin that.

  I look back at him and shake my head. “No, I didn’t speak to him. I just saw him hanging around the main part of the house. I don't think he was actually at the party as a guest.”

  I feel Spencer and Milo’s stares but I tune them out knowing exactly what they’re thinking. “Damn,” Charlie murmurs, looking off in the distance as he gets lost in thought. “I don’t know what could have happened to him. It’s not like we fucked him up that bad. I’ve had his fucking parents calling me and asking if I’ve seen him. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  Spencer’s eyes harden and I’m reminded of Colton’s phone call once again.

  ‘Spence, I need your help.’

  He knows something and just like I’d suspected with Colton, they know exactly where he is. I just don't understand it. Are they hiding him out or did they help him get away? Why would they protect him like that? All I know is that means that Colton lied to me. He told me that he didn’t know where he was and that he’d happily hand Jude over to Nic. Clearly, he didn’t quite mean that.

  Spencer’s stare bores into mine, silently begging me to keep my mouth shut. He knows that I know something. He can see I have all the puzzle pieces, I just haven’t been able to put them together. “He’ll show up when he’s ready,” Spencer says to Charlie, all while keeping his gaze locked on mine.

  Charlie looks between us again. “What the fuck is going on between you two? Did something happen?”

  Spencer shakes his head as I snap. “Nothing happened. He’s just a shady bastard.” I tear my gaze away from Spencer and watch as he relaxes out of the corner of my eye. I look back at Charlie to find suspicion on his face. “Really,” I insist. “We’re all good. Spencer decided to take it upon himself to do Colton’s bidding on Saturday night and it didn't exactly pan out well.”

  “Oh, is that it?” Charlie says with a relieved sigh that’s also filled with a hint of jealousy. He turns to Spencer. “Thanks a lot, bro. You could have put in a good word for me instead.”

  “Fuck off, man. You’ve already sealed the deal with her and seeing as though she’s not falling at your feet, I’d dare say that ship has sailed. Move over, you know Colton is going to be her end game.”

  Charlie rolls his eyes and I scoff at Spencer’s remarks. I am so not Colton’s end game. I’m not even his half-time game. Besides, any game Colton was playing ended the moment his father's life did.

  “Okay, are you guys done harassing my girl?” Milo questions.

  “Give up the act,” Charlie says. “We know she’s not your girl. If anything, she’s mine.”

  I groan and step into Milo, pushing him back away from Charlie and dragging him with me, more than happy to leave the two douchebags of Bellevue Springs behind. “Come on, I’m done with this testosterone-filled bullshit.”

  “Really?” Milo calls over his shoulder as his hand slips around my waist. “She sure as shit looks like my girl.”

  My hand whacks out against Milo’s stomach and he howls with laughter. “Stop stirring up shit. You’re only going to make it worse.”

  “Please,” he scoffs. “Fucking with them is—”

  “OCEANIA MUNROE.” My name is called from the opposite end of the hallway by a voice that has a shiver running down my spine. I turn around to face Dean Simmons and instantly groan. “My office. NOW.”

  Well, fuck. I guess news of me beating up one of his precious students has traveled quickly.

  I glance up at Milo who scrunches his face, not liking where this is about to go. “You better not keep him waiting,” he warns. “The longer he waits, the more time he has to think of your punishment.”

  “Shit. This is going to be bad.”

  “Yeah, but kinda worth it.”

  My hand pumps into a fist at my side and I look up at Milo, meeting his eyes as I grin wide. “Damn straight, it was.”

  Chapter 5

  I stand at Dean Simmons’ door, gripping the handle with unease. I wonder how much shit I would be in if I were to turn around now and walk away. Surely this is going to be an epic waste of my time. The last few visits with Dean Simmons have not gone well. Not once has he listened to anything I had to say—his conversations were always one-sided. I can only imagine what he's going to say about me now that I'm actually in the wrong.

  He’s probably been waiting for this moment since the second I walked through those massive iron gates. He's such a dick. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how he got this job in the first place. He clearly doesn’t belong here. Though, that much could be said about me too.

  I let out a breath and push through the door, not bothering with a knock because why the hell would I? It’s the little things, right?

  Simmons’ head snaps up and his eyes narrow as I make my way across his office and drop into the chair opposite of his massive desk. He’s clearly overcompensating for something.

  “You wanted to see me?” I question, raising a brow.

  “Yes,” he says, looking unimpressed with my attitude. He scoops up a stack of papers from his desk and shuffles them until they’re straight. “We need to discuss your enrollment at this school.”

  My brows furrow. “What?”

  His eyes snap back to mine and I swear, if murder was legal, I’d be dead on the spot. “I said we have—”

  “I heard what you said,” I tell him. “I’m trying to figure out where the hell it came from.”

  Dean Simmons groans and leans forward on his desk, propping his elbows against the wooden table. “Would it kill you to show even the tiniest shred of respect, Oceania?”

  “Yeah,” I nod. “I think it might. I haven’t received a shred of respect from any of the faculty at this pretentious school—including yourself—so why should I offer that in return? Respect is earned not given.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one, Miss Munroe. Now, let’s get down to business so we can both get on with our day.”

  Less time having to spend sitting across from this prick, now that I can agree on. “Right, so what fresh hell are you talking about? What’s wrong with my enrollment?”

  “Well, now that Mr. Carrington has regrettably passed. I think it appropriate that you transfer to our sister school, Bellevue Springs Private. You will be much happier there and less of a distraction to my students.”

  “Umm … what?” I demand, realizing that this has absolutely nothing to do with me kicking that kid’s ass this morning and more to do with this bastard’s desperation to swing his dick around. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Unfortunately for you, the call has already been made and the papers signed. You will see the week out here and starting next Monday morning, you will be attending BSP full time.”

  I shake my head, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. Is this even legal? Surely he can’t change my enrollment status without consent and I can guarantee that a call certainly wasn’t made to my mother about this. She would have told me, but then, she didn’t tell me that I was enrolled here in the first place.

  Something has to be done about this.

  Anger pulses through me and I fly to my feet, slamming my hands down on his mahogany desk and enjoying the way he startles. “You can't do this,” I demand, narrowing my gaze and enjoying the way he shrinks back. “Charles has already paid the fees. I have every right to be here. Besides, without Charles, mom and I would never be able to afford a private school.”

  Dean Simmons sets his jaw and his angered glare slices to me with disdain. “Sit down Miss Munroe. For the next week, I am still your Dean and you will show respect. As for your finances, they are hardly my business. If you cannot afford the fees, then perhaps you'll be more comfortable in a school suited better to your class.”

  Oh, he did not just say that. If I was wearing hoop earrings, they’d be out within seconds.

  My blood boils and I find my hands curling into fists, stinging with the need to punch out and slam across his
sculpted jaw. The idea of knocking him into next week is way too appealing. If I’m getting kicked out of here then I might as well go with style, right?

  I take a step to walk around his desk and he leans back in his chair, for the first time realizing that maybe I’m not the bitch he should be fucking with today. After the weekend I’ve just suffered through, I'll be damned if I allow another rich, privileged man to walk all over me and make a mockery of who I am. I won’t stand for it anymore.

  “Take your seat,” he says slowly. His intentionally low and disapproving tone still not enough to hide the tremor in his voice. I’ve only been here a month and these past few weeks have been more than enough for these boys to realize who I am.

  Everyone in Bellevue Springs has heard of The Black Widows from Breakers Flats and just as I knew they would, the rumors have spread far and wide. They know I have the Black Widows protection, they know Dominic Garcia would move heaven and hell just to get to me, and they know their lives wouldn’t be worth living if they were to fuck with me. But unfortunately, there are always a few who think they are the exception. Colton fucking Carrington included.

  I take another step and he leans back further. “This is how it’s going to go,” I tell him, loving being back to my roots. “You’re going to reinstate my—”

  The phone rings and Dean Simmons launches for it as though it’s some kind of lifeline. “Simmons,” he says, not once taking his eyes off me.

  I go to reach for the phone but a cockiness seeps into his eyes and the terror fades away. I pull back, desperate to know what’s going on. From the way his glare shoots back to me, I’d dare say he’s just found out about my morning activities.

  “Right,” he says into the phone, his tone suddenly a shitload chirpier. “I’ve got her in my office now, it will be dealt with. We do not tolerate violence in this school.”

 

‹ Prev