More Than A Bully: North Woods University Books 1-3

by J. L. Beck

  My mom moved away shortly after things ended, claiming she couldn’t find a job as a secretary where we were living and my dad of course was not willing to move, nor was I. High school was hard enough without having to move to a brand new school and I wasn’t about to pack up my life again and start over wherever the hell it was that my mother wanted to move. That, and a part of me was still angry with her. Angry for ruining my life, her life, my dad’s life. It was because of her selfishness that we left in the first place.

  When she moved back to North Woods, I didn’t really think anything of it. That was until she called me last Christmas.

  “Hey sweetheart, did you get the Christmas presents in the mail?”

  “Yes, Mom, thank you. The only thing that would’ve made it better was spending the day with you.” There was nothing like spending Christmas with your family… though I wouldn’t truly know since I hadn’t spent a holiday with my mother since she left. It was just Dad and I and even then, sometimes it was just me.

  “I know, me too.” Her words didn’t match her tone of voice.

  “If it’s okay with you, I was thinking about coming down for a few days next week since I’m still on break. We can watch Elf and make Christmas cookies.” The mere thought of spending time with her left me feeling whole again. Even if I was pissed off at my mother for not visiting me, or making an effort, it didn’t mean I didn’t want to spend time with her, if given the chance.

  “Yeah...maybe.” She paused and I couldn’t miss the nervous tone that overtook her voice. It sounded like she was going to say something she thought I might not like.

  “You know, honey, I’ve been meaning to tell you something…” There was another pause, and I gripped the phone tighter in my hand. When I didn’t say anything, she continued a long sigh filling the speaker.

  “I’ve been seeing someone…it’s… it’s um… Henry.”

  My hold on the phone slackened and I nearly dropped it.

  Holy shit. She didn’t actually mean Henry…

  Shaking my head, I somehow manage to find my voice.

  “Henry Preston? Vance’s dad?”

  “Yes, we met again a few months ago. He and Tonya got divorced as well. I swear to you we were only looking for friendship but, sometimes the heart has other plans. Anyway, we started going out and I figured you should know. I don’t want to keep anything from you.”

  She figured I should know? Ha, that’s funny. She could miss Christmas with me and barely pick up the phone to call me but felt like I should know about her love life.

  Someone should get her an award.

  Mom of the year here.

  There's a permanent sour taste that coats my mouth every time I think back to that phone call. No, I take that back, it’s actually all of it. All of this leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

  Everything about my life is fucked up. Her moving away. My dad making me stay with him, even after he started drinking. My mom never coming back for me, even when she knew I needed her. Her absence only drove the knife of betrayal deeper into my chest.

  Which leads me to this moment. An eighteen-year-old high school graduate without a single dime to her name because her dad drank and gambled her college fund away. I was the poster child for fucked up, going nowhere real fast.

  My mom insisted on me coming to live with her but not until after she found out about my father’s wrongdoings. Anger bled at the edge of my tongue. I wanted to ask her where she was a couple years back, but what was the point.

  Nothing she did now could change the past. The only good thing that came from moving in with her was her promise that she and Henry would pay for my college and give me a place to live with them while attending the local university. After the shit show my mother had left me in, I was seriously considering saying no.

  I prided myself on being a smart girl and I wasn’t about to fall into that trap again. She had let me down more than once in my life… I had no reason to trust her...but what else was I going to do with my time?

  With my dad was in some high-end rehab facility across the country and the house being foreclosed on. It was only a matter of time before I could add being homeless, and jobless, to my long resume of fuck ups. I knew what the outcome would be if I didn’t take my mother’s offer. And as stubborn as I wanted to be, I couldn’t give up my dream of going to college.

  So I took the offer. It was a cute little deal tied up with a red ribbon, like those stupid presents she had sent me last year. I couldn’t pass it up, not even if I was still angry at her for being absent for nearly all of my teenage years.

  Looking up at the elaborate mansion Henry bought my mother, I try not to cringe. Stone masonry, a huge three car garage, in a secluded area. The icing on the cake the Welcome to our home sign blowing back and forth in the wind.

  It’s like a red flag calling out to my rage, and I’m the bull, ready to dig my horns into it.

  There was a point in time when the Prestons had no money, not even two quarters to rub together, and then according to my mom, Henry struck it big, partnering up with some big wig.

  Oh how the times had changed. Something told me Henry had more money than God if he could just pull houses out of his ass and throw bribe money at me like it was pieces of confetti.

  Which is what this was… a bribe. Maybe I should be a little more grateful, but who the hell was I kidding. I didn’t want to be here anymore than I’m sure he wanted me to be, than his son will want me to be.

  Vance Preston.

  The name in itself makes me shiver, and not with fear. I’m not bitter, totally not bitter or angry, or any of those things. It’s not Vance’s fault that my life fell apart like a bad game of Jenga. We were just two kids caught in the crosshairs of an adult situation.

  Smoothing my hand over my hair one last time, I look down at my clothing. Skinny jeans and an ACDC shirt. I hope she didn’t expect me to show up wearing a dress? They might regret inviting me after all.

  The suitcase is heavy in my clammy hand as I walk up the front steps, stopping at the front door of the place I’ll call my new home. Home isn’t really what I would call this place. It’s more like one of those houses you see in a magazine.

  Glamour, over the top.

  The only thing it’s missing is a fountain out front but give them a little time, they’ll have one built. The taxi driver didn’t even bother helping me inside, instead he sped off giving me just enough time to get my bag out of the back. Staring at the door, I give myself a couple seconds to gain my composure. One. Two. Three. Exhaling all the air from my lungs out my mouth I let air filter in through my nostrils as I reach out and press the little doorbell button. While I wait, I force a smile to my lips.

  Truthfully, my feelings for my mother are confusing. It’s a slippery slope of loathe and love. I want to see her more and spend time with her, far more than I care to admit even to myself, but of all the times to come back into her life it had to be on her wedding day? And to be married to Henry? Yeah, I was pretty sure the universe hated me.

  The door swings open a millisecond later and my half-dressed mom appears in the doorway. “Oh Ava, my sweet baby girl. I’m so happy that you made it.” She throws her arms around me, pulling me into her chest, wrapping me up in a hug that’s far tighter than a woman as tiny as her should be able to give. In the process of hugging me, she pulls me into the house as well. It’s almost like she’s afraid I’ll turn around and run away if she doesn’t.

  Sucking in a greedy breath of her floral scent I’m taken back to a time when my mom was really my mom, when she didn’t make selfish choices, when she ran my baths, and told me I was the prettiest girl in the entire world. It seems like a lifetime ago and somehow, I wish I could go back.

  “Don’t mess up your makeup, Linda,” some lady scolds from inside the house. When the hug ends, I’m left feeling cold. My mom takes my hand into hers and pulls me deeper into the foyer. I barely manage to get the suitcase over the door jamb before she’s closi
ng the door behind us. Jesus. My gaze sweeps across the room and through the house as my mother tugs me along. It looks unlike anything I’ve seen before, marble, crown molding, high ceilings. It reminds me nothing of the home we shared when we were actually a family and not broken pieces in a picture frame.

  The walls are painted a light beige that makes the room seem light and airy. Signs with different quotes adorn the walls, along with photos that I don’t care to look at.

  We enter the living room, which is basically just one giant room. There’s a huge leather sectional, fireplace, and flat screen TV set up. Built-in bookcases are on the side of the room and my fingers itch to run along the spines of the books.

  The living room opens up into the kitchen, which is all white marble and stainless steel appliances. It looks like something out of a Sears catalog.

  In fact, this entire house looks like a catalog.

  Like a designer came in and put everything in its perfect place.

  “Please, come and sit with me while they finish up my hair and makeup. We have so much to catch up on, sweetie.” I open my mouth to say something, but she continues to tug me down a hallway that leads off the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t pick you up at the airport. I would’ve but as you can see.” She waves a hand in front of her, like I can’t see it myself.

  “It’s okay,” I lie. The hallway is long and there are a few doors, all of which are closed hiding their contents inside.

  “This place is huge.” The words slip past my lips before I can stop them. I mean to say them inside my head rather than speak them out loud, but obviously my mouth had other thoughts.

  “Believe me, I know. I feel bad for the cleaning ladies sometimes, I cannot even imagine the amount of time it takes to clean this place. I told Henry a simple apartment would suffice, but he demanded the best.” She grins at me over her shoulder, and then turns, pulling me into a room that looks like a professional makeup studio.

  Mirrors and hair products and makeup litter every surface. There are three ladies standing in the room, with smiles on their faces, but impatience in their eyes. My mother shoves herself down into a seat and forces me to take the one beside her.

  I do not fit in here. No way, no how.

  Once seated, she releases my hand, and I take the moment to wipe the sweaty palm she was holding against the front of my jeans. My eyes roam over my mother’s disheveled form that I somehow missed when she answered the door. I wasn’t really looking at her then, but looking right through her.

  A pink robe is wrapped around her slim frame, and slippers that say The Bride on the front of them cover her feet. Huge curlers have her chestnut brown hair, the same shade as my own, wrapped up tightly. She looks like she’s getting ready for a beauty pageant, not a wedding.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to have you here, sweetie. What’s it been, three years?” She bats her long eyelashes and smiles at me. I can’t miss the fakeness of her tone, or the fact that she’s talking to me like I’m one of her Stepford house friends rather than her daughter. It sickens me, but what am I supposed to do?

  “Yeah, three years, Mom,” I say, my words clipped.

  My intentions when coming here had nothing to do with making my mom feel like shit for not being there for me. Sooner or later, she would realize what she had done. Instead, I set out to better my life. I wanted to go to college, wanted to enjoy life, instead of worrying about what bill we were going to pay next.

  If I thought my life was hard after we moved, it became a shit storm after my mother left. This was my one and only chance at doing something for myself, and even if I had to use Henry’s money and deal with my fake mother to get it, I would. There were worse things I could be doing with my life.

  One of my mother’s makeup artists chose then to appear in front of her, like a magical fairy dabbing at her face, painting on her mask. For some reason, I was uncomfortable. I felt like an outsider, like I didn’t belong.

  “Look, I’m sorry, honey. We might as well get this out of the way. Me leaving had nothing to do with you. I just needed space and time. Things weren’t good between your father and me and there was no work to be found in that godforsaken town.” She pauses for a moment as if she’s thinking over what she just said before continuing, “The past is the past though. Now we have years upon years to look forward to.”

  Go figure she would be happy go lucky about this, telling me to move on from something that she didn’t have to endure. The world was full enough of people telling you to get over your problems, the last thing I needed was my mother joining in on the fun.

  “I didn’t come here to discuss the past. It can’t be changed. I’m going forward. I just want to have a decent end of the summer, register for classes, and enjoy your wedding.” The last part was a lie. I would rather eat glass then suffer through her wedding, but it’s part of the agreement, and if there is anything you should know about me, it’s that I always follow through.

  She beams at my words. “Of course. I have your dress laid out in one of the guest bedrooms that I had put together for you. Once you get settled in, you can decorate it however you would like. Vance and Henry are beyond excited to see you.”

  I fidget with my hands nervously. Vance. Five years have passed since I saw him last. Back then, we were friends, middle-schoolers with nothing but time on our hands, now we would be strangers that somehow knew each other at one point and time.

  I won’t lie and say I’m not curious when it comes to him. I’ve wondered about him often over the years. What he was doing? If he still ate his bologna sandwiches with ketchup and cheese?

  Puke.

  We might not ever agree on condiments choices, but other than that, we were bestest of friends. Upon my life falling apart, I lost someone that I considered to be a best friend.

  God, life was cruel.

  “The joy.” I roll my eyes. “If you’re okay with it, I’m going to go and try on that dress and put some of my stuff away.”

  My mother smiles as one of the ladies checks the curlers in her hair. “That’s fine. You’ll need to get your hair and makeup done next so don’t run off. Go up the stairs and take a right, your room is the last one on the left. I’m so excited to have you here. Life’s going to be much better, sweetie, you’ll see.”

  Ha. I want to tell her life would be better had she not fucked up, but don’t. It wouldn’t be worth it. Instead, I get up and walk out of the room, tugging my impossibly large suitcase behind me. Home sweet home.

  I get the feeling that living here is going to be anything but sweet…

  27

  Vance

  “I want your cock.” Sarah purrs, her big brown eyes peering up at me from her position on the floor. She’s kneeling before me like I’m her king and strangely I guess I am. The king of orgasms. Tossing the stupid tie my father had me wear to his even stupider fucking wedding I reach for her, pinching her chin between two fingers.

  She’s pretty enough, with red lips, and fuck me eyes. She’ll never be it for me though.

  “And you’ll have my cock in your mouth soon enough.” I wasn’t always this big of an asshole. Tonight was different. Tonight I was on edge, hanging off the cliff by my fingernails, and all because of her.

  My dream.

  My nightmare.

  One would’ve thought five years would be enough time to let go of the pain, of the anger, of the betrayal but seeing her again, it only ignited the barely cooled embers of hate in my heart. It didn’t help her bitch of a mom married my father either. That was another knife to the back, and another gallon of gasoline poured on my rage.

  Flicking the button on my dress slacks, I watch Sarah’s eyes fill with excitement. I’m going to use her throat before discarding her like I do all the other girls that come and go. Fucking them is fun. Listening to them whine and cry afterward, not so much.

  Shoving my boxers down, I pull my diamond hard cock out. I palm the fucker a couple times, warming hi
m up. Pre-cum beads the tip and a groan of pleasure resonates through my chest when Sarah’s warm mouth makes contact with the head. She sucks it into her mouth, flicking her pink tongue over the slit at the top before taking more of my length into her mouth.

  Fuck, she’s like a porn star.

  When she starts to suck, I’m reminded why I always call on her when I want a good fucking blow job. Because she sucks like she’s a Hoover fucking vacuum cleaner, that’s why. She makes a gagging sound when my cock hits the back of her throat, the sound sending zings of pleasure through my ball sack. For a moment I forget about my father, the man I’ve looked up to my whole life, of Laura, my new stepmother.

  My thoughts catch on Ava. My ex-best friend, and new stepsister. She looks gorgeous tonight, curvy, with her hair curled, looking like a fucking angel, though she’s anything but that. She’s the devil, a fucking liar wrapped up in a tight little bow.

  And even though I wouldn’t put my dick in her, I wonder if she would let me use her throat like Sarah is? Images of her on her knees before me, looking up at me with her big eyes, me punishing her with my cock, coaxing the truth right out of her pretty little mouth. My eyes fall closed and all I see is her.

  Threading my fingers into Sarah’s mass of blonde hair, I imagine it’s Ava’s mousy brown. I hold her face right where I want it and fuck her throat, listening to her gags and soft mewls. I bet she’s drenched for me, just waiting for my cock to make her come, would Ava be like that? Would she be soaked with need for me? I bet she fucking would. She’s a fucking liar, but even she can’t hide the evidence of arousal.

  Momentarily, I consider pulling my cock out of Sarah’s throat and fucking her pussy, but I don’t. It’s bad enough I’m thinking about my lying bitch of a stepsister while fucking her mouth.