Glass Heart Broken: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Glass Heart Academy Book 2)

by Lindsey Iler

  Okay, I may be overselling this, but it’s working. Damien spins on his heels, leaving Delaney outside of the cafeteria. Once he’s out of sight, I sneak up on Delaney and squeeze her hips. She yelps and turns to smack me, but I dodge her.

  “Jesus, woman!” Delaney smiles. “How’d you get him to bail on me so quick?”

  “Let’s just say he thinks someone is trying to break into my dorm.”

  “You do realize that means Breaker, Marek, and Dixon will be flooding the area soon, right?” She shakes her head.

  “Which is why we need to get going.” I wrap my arm around hers and tug her opposite of the way Damien went.

  In a fit of laughter, we race through campus, knowing our best bet for peace and quiet is if we get as far away from them as possible. Once we make it past the gymnasium and football fields, we stall outside of the forest.

  “I’m not going in there,” Delaney says sharply.

  “Neither am I.” Memories take hold of my mind. The image of Georgina’s mangled, bruised body causes my heart to race. “Come on.”

  Once we’ve gone far enough, I take a seat on the bench. Delaney falls in next to me, both of us out of breath and amusement light on our tongues as we laugh. This is what best friends are supposed to do. Steal moments and create memories. Ours just happens to be done on borrowed time.

  “I needed this!” Delaney says. “To feel normal for a minute.”

  “You’ve been hiding,” I state.

  “Says the girl living in an ivory tower.” She purses her lips at me.

  “Everything feels uncertain, like we’re walking on unsteady ground.” I fill my cheeks with a breath and release it slowly.

  “Still no word from Reed?”

  “No, I think she’s spiraling. Marek and I may have played a big part in that.”

  “Marek and you? You’re . . .”

  “A giant fucking mess,” I admit. “Ever since Reed’s stunt at the house, he’s been off.”

  “And you think it has to do with your sister, because he’s still in love with her, or what?”

  “No, I don’t think he ever loved her. At least that’s what he says, but whatever’s gone down between her and these boys, it’s deep rooted and untouchable.”

  “And you think he’s acting strange because he’s somehow still stuck in those roots.” She offers me a sad, understanding smile. “But what do you want from him?”

  Damn.

  I’m not brave enough to ask myself what I’m looking for from Marek. In the beginning, our interactions were based off the morbid rules he’d established. Now, it’s not like that whatsoever. Before Reed showed up strung out of her mind, things were settling. I knew where I stood with him, and he with me.

  When I say I’m falling in love with Marek, I mean it. Love doesn’t need to be categorized in any way for it to make sense. When I’m with him, my heart settles. That is one thing I’m certain of. Where I once feared he’d hurt me, deep down my soul knows he won’t. That doesn’t stop my mind from racing.

  “You know how you can have complete faith in someone, but you create a narrative in your mind that undercuts everything you know to be true?” I stand and pace in front of her. “When it comes to him, I want that narrative to grow quieter. I want to truly know it’s me, I’m it for him.”

  “Do you think you can quiet that voice in your head long enough to get there?” Delaney asks, a curious tone in her question as if she understands what I’m saying.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to with Breaker?” I counter, knowing damn well she doesn’t want to talk about him.

  “He paid a million dollars for my safety, and I’m not sure if I can trust him. How fucked up am I?”

  “Money doesn’t mean anything to him.”

  “Look around, sweetheart. Money doesn’t mean shit to any of us, and all we seem to have is problems.”

  A heaviness takes over me, and I lower myself to the bench. Boots striking my body and the smell of blood steal me away from this moment with my best friend. Every time I was attacked flashes through my mind. Each bruise and cut were undeserved.

  “Where’d you go, Palmer?” Delaney asks at the same second my phone rings and a stick breaks in the distance, scaring the both of us.

  We laugh humorlessly as I take it out of my pocket and see Marek’s name. I send him to voice mail, and it rings again with Breaker’s name this time.

  “I’m not okay, D,” I admit, tossing the phone from one hand to the other. “I want to escape it all. I want to be a normal eighteen-year-old. I want my sister to not have faked her death. I want my sister to not be a junkie. I want to go to prom and walk across the stage at graduation, but every day that passes, and as we get closer to those events, I don’t think we ever will. It feels like the end, every day.”

  My phone rings. Marek again. I turn sideways and toss it into the woods behind us.

  “I’m not in any position to dole out advice because, let’s be real, I’m sort of a fucking mess right now.” She stands and looks down at me. “But what if we’re wrong? What if, on the other end of that phone call, there’s a boy who’s struggling just as much as you? Then what?”

  “What if I’m walking into a trap?” I ask, knowing damn well the odds are I’m right.

  “I’m going to go grab your phone, so you can at least find out. You know damn well, trap or not, Marek will have Dixon tracking your phone in seconds, and he’ll be here in less than five minutes.” She walks to the edge of the woods and turns to say one last thing before she fades into the heavy foliage. “At least call him, so he knows you’re alive.”

  As she disappears into the greenery, her amused laughter floats on the wind. When it cuts out abruptly, I jump up and run to the spot where she’d entered.

  “Delaney!” I yell. “Did you find it?” Her silence unnerves me. “Come on, Laney, it’s not funny.”

  My eyes turn to the darkening sky. There’s barely any winter sunlight left, even though it’s not quite six in the evening. This is what I hate about the Midwest. The days grow shorter with every month leading up to the end of the year.

  “Delaney!” I shout this time. I couldn’t have thrown it that far. She should have found it by now, or at the very least, be close enough to hear me.

  Crackling leaves has the hair on my arm raising towards the night sky. Suddenly aware of my surroundings, I spin slowly, keeping my eyes open for anything that may be a threat. There’s nothing. I’m alone.

  “Dammit, I’m coming in.” I lift a foot, and a hand wraps around my arm, jerking me backwards.

  I scream as if my life depends on my fear being heard across campus. I’m whirled around, and instant relief has me wrapping my arms around Breaker’s neck.

  “Jesus! Are you okay?” Breaker asks, peeling me off him. “Damien called me after he couldn’t get ahold of Marek.”

  “But Marek called me right before you did.”

  “It must be a coincidence, because I’ve been trying to get ahold of him while trying to track your dumb ass around campus.” He holds me at arm’s length and inspects my body, but I brush him off. “Not the smartest idea to ditch security, Palmer.” He scans the area. “Where’s Delaney?”

  “She went into the woods to find my phone, and she never came out.” I duck down to try to see past the tree line.

  “What do you mean she didn’t come out?” The panic in his voice sums up my fears. He rushes into the woods, and I follow. “She must have gotten turned around.”

  The further we go, the deeper a sinking feeling settles into my stomach. An owl screeches, startling my heart into overdrive. I clutch Breaker’s leather jacket.

  “Breaker?” I whisper. “Breaker, you know that gut feeling I was having earlier?”

  “Don’t say it, Palmer, because if you do, you’ll put words to my own worries.” He flashes his eyes at me. He knows me well enough to offer his hand, and I grip it like a lifeline.

  Lights shine in front of us, and we duck in un
ison. We already know.

  “This service road is used for large shipments to the school, for the cafeteria so the workers aren’t seen on campus,” Breaker murmurs.

  Two men wearing ski masks get out of a dark gray van idling in the middle of the road. Out of nowhere, a third circles, meeting them at the rear bumper.

  “The girl is a fighter.” One chuckles. “I’ll give her that. The bitch scratched my cheek good.” Without seeing their faces, it’s hard to recognize the voice.

  The energy radiating off Breaker says he’s ready for a fight. I jerk on his arm and press a finger to my mouth to keep him quiet. The dilemma in his eyes is worry one has for those he loves.

  They secure the far door. The clank of the bolt sliding shut gives me chills. The last man to the party disappears behind the van, and seconds later, a blue sports car speeds away.

  Breaker hisses a deep breath. “Declan,” he says through gritted teeth.

  When the two others get in the van, I crawl closer to the edge of the trees. As their wheels throw gravel in their speedy retreat, I grab a rock and scribble the license number in the dirt.

  “Call Dixon,” I bark the order at Breaker. “Tell him to find out who this van belongs to, and where the hell it’s going. Someone in there has to have a cell phone.”

  I walk to the middle of the service road, and my eyes catch on something silver. I bend down and lift the pendant closer to the moonlight. Delaney’s name is engraved into the heart, a present from her parents on her sixteenth birthday. Beside it is my phone. I pick it up, noticing the scratches and cracks on the screen. It springs to life when I touch the screen.

  “Palmer, we need to go,” Breaker says. The urgency in his voice moves my feet.

  I tuck the bracelet and phone in my pocket and take his offered hand.

  “We’re going to find her.” I can’t tell if he’s saying this more for my benefit or his own.

  As we’re driving up the hill, his phone rings. He answers it, keeping his replies quiet and short. Every few seconds he glances at me, discomfort in his eyes. I dig my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Marek. It goes unread. I call him, and it goes straight to voice mail.

  When Breaker parks, I place my hand on his arm to stop him from getting out.

  “Where’s Marek, Breaker?” My eyes inspect his for any change, and when I see it, that small shift in his pupils, I know something is going on that they don’t want me to know about. “Where is he?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marek

  This is the only way, I keep reminding myself as I stop at the black, steel gate. It’s large and decorative like Henry’s Florida vacation home we used to visit. Before Penelope’s death, we would go as a family. The pantry was always stocked with snacks, and there were endless activities to keep us kids out of the adults’ hair.

  How time changes people. The once-giving man now seems to want to take from me.

  I push the button on the large cement pillar and wait for someone to allow me in.

  “Mr. Hawthorne, we’ve been expecting you.” The deep, voice crackles through the speaker. “Please park and meet us inside.”

  If that isn’t the most ominous shit I’ve ever heard, then I don’t know what is. I release my foot on the brake and slide into one of the few available spots left. Rows of expensive cars line the cobblestone drive.

  I grab my sports coat and slide the switchblades Dixon gave me into my sock and pocket. I don’t know what I’m up against, and I refuse to be unprepared for whatever may be coming my way once I’m locked inside these walls.

  One thing I’ve learned is to always know what’s happening behind you. In the shadows, evil bidding is done. I check over my shoulder to see the gates closing, a reminder there’s no turning around now. I’ve made my choices, and this is where they’ve brought me.

  Instead of knocking, I open the front door to poke my head inside to get a glimpse of what I’m dealing with. The large foyer is empty except for a table with a gold vase filled with black dahlias. The door shuts, startling me and forcing me further inside the house.

  “Hello?” I shout. There’s no answer.

  I poke my head into several empty rooms. Stopping at the last one, I open the door and find what appears to be a large ballroom. This seems more likely to be an ambush than a welcoming party inside the lavish space.

  Once I’m inside the room, familiar faces greet me with smiles.

  Henry. My mom. Officer Franklin. Dean Eberstark. Declan. Dillon. Quinn.

  This is the tipping point of the guests. Close to thirty people stare at me. I’m curious what has them here, and they’re likely questioning how I’ve flipped to the dark side.

  “Welcome to The Dark Heart Society!” Henry holds his arms out wide, pride in his stance, and determination in his tight jaw, daring me to defy him. “Festivities will begin at eleven, so feel free to mingle until then.” He gestures with his finger for me to join him. His hand claps down on my shoulder as I stop at his side. “I’m happy I was able to convince you to show up.”

  “Like I said when I visited you, I’m curious, not convinced.”

  “Curiosity fuels most of our urges, Marek. You’ll see the light soon enough.” Henry snaps and points at me.

  Two men in black suits, clearly the muscle in the room, approach me, kicking at my feet for me to spread them, and search me. They retrieve the knife in my pocket and wave it like a piece of chicken to an alligator. Henry smirks as he takes it.

  “What does a boy like you need this for, huh?” He waves it in front of my face, then hides it in his pocket. “We aren’t the enemy, Marek. Please know that.”

  “You can never be too cautious, I suppose.” I circle around to find my mom watching us. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go talk with my mother.”

  “I’m hoping a ripple effect of this night will prove to you that she’s done everything to keep you safe and protected,” Henry says, disappearing into the small crowd.

  Uncomfortable and uncertain, I am slow to approach her. There are no words I’m compelled to utter to her, so I stand beside her and allow the silence to do most of the talking.

  “I didn’t think you’d show your face,” she whispers.

  “I can’t believe you show yours,” I mutter. “How did you get involved with this, Mom?” Her eyes widen. I’ve called her by the name she wishes she deserves but has never earned. “Now that I have your attention.”

  “Sometimes we have to do things to survive, Marek,” she says, darting her eyes over my shoulder. “If you’ll excuse me?”

  Without another word, I’m left alone.

  Dillon quickly takes my mom’s spot, handing me a cup. “Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it.”

  A sniff tells me it’s rum and Coke. “And why should I trust you?”

  “I haven’t given you a reason to, but if you’re here, then you’d better figure out a way. You simply walking through the door is enough proof to me that we’re on the same side.” Dillon extends his hand, and I apprehensively take it. We shake as if we are old buddies, but everything inside me screams to knock this smug mother fucker on his ass. “This is our way to the top. Look around. There’s a roadmap to any future you’re interested in.”

  “Do you know who’s in charge of this?” I ask, hoping he’ll mistake my kindness as complacency. If he believes I’m with him, he’ll lower the protective gates around his business.

  “You’re kidding, right? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Dillon groans, motioning me closer. “I thought you were smarter than this, Hawthorne.”

  “Henry?” I whisper, pretending like I don’t already know.

  “No shit, genius.” Dillon rolls his eyes and leans even closer to me. “Henry is the proprietor of the goods. The guys underneath him get the buyers.”

  “Like Declan,” I say, nodding my chin towards Declan across the room. He’s having a heated conversation with Officer Franklin.

  “And then the boys undernea
th him, we’re the heavy lifters.”

  “You get the girls.” It isn’t hard to see what’s happening. Once I had a little bit of information, it was only a matter of time until they gave me the rest.

  “We get the girls,” he emphasizes. “A guy like you will have girls following you into dark alleys, no questions asked. Palmer would go for a lot of money. I bet you could convince Henry to split, fifty-fifty.”

  For fuck’s sake, it’s worse than I thought. I steady my facial expressions, hoping to keep my true feelings hidden. Dillon’s smirk is asking to be punched square off his face, and I’d be happy to oblige him, if he mentions Palmer one more time.

  His excitement for the operation has my stomach rolling in protest. How does one revel in the idea of ruining a girl’s life? That’s what they are doing here. They are taking a girl’s choice away from her, but how? From what I’ve gathered, these girls are more than happy to oblige.

  “But how do you get them to follow you?” I ask what seems like an easy enough question, but Dillon’s immediate apprehension is obvious. He’s starting not to believe me. I turn up my sinister smile. “Let me guess, we don’t give them any other choice?”

  “Nothing makes a girl crack faster than knowing her dark and dirty secrets will be plastered over every major social media network,” Dillon says matter-of-fact, confirming Reagan’s accusation.

  “You extort them.” This isn’t a question, more of an observation to save face in front of Dillon. His response is to point to his nose, then to me. He walks away, leaving me alone.

  I monitor the room, noticing how everyone mingles with a select number of people. My mom and Officer Franklin hang close to each other. At some point, his eyes turn to me, and I drop mine, not wanting any involvement in whatever sick shit he has going on.

  The clink of glass catches my attention. At the front of the room, Henry raises a flute of champagne. He gestures for the staff in black and white tuxedos to pass out trays of long-stemmed glasses. Once everyone has one, he grins.

  “Tonight is the thirtieth anniversary of the society. Rankings and positions have changed through the years, but our mission has stayed the same,” Henry says, pride dripping in every word. “Desire. Compassion. Power.”