Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

  But I had to. With Dad in jail, facing charges, I was the only one Mom had. Dad would get out on bail, once they stopped dragging their feet and set it—the police department was using every loophole they could to make sure they had an impregnable case against him before having it set.

  Things would never be the same afterward, even if, by some miracle, my dad got out and avoided prison. Getting a fifteen-year-old pregnant, taking her to an abortion clinic and signing all the papers, acting like he was her father when he wasn’t…was illegal in more ways than one.

  I hated him. I hated my father for so long, and now that everything was crumbling around me, now that I could do nothing else as I watched my world burn, I knew this was what my dad deserved. He got what was coming to him.

  Still, that meant my mom had no one but me. If something happened to me, what would happen to her? Would she be thrown into a nursing home, surrounded by strangers who didn’t really care about her? I couldn’t let that happen.

  No, that was why I had to suck it up. I had to stay by Brittany’s side and I had to do what I could to keep this family stable.

  I shouldn’t have gone to Midpark, shouldn’t have confronted her. Of course, I didn’t know for a fact it was Jaz’s doing, but who else would’ve tipped off the police? Brittany sure as hell never would’ve; she’d been lording that over my shoulders since last year, since she found out due to the fact the girl my father stuck his dick in was her cousin’s friend.

  Yeah, my life was a shitshow of crap, huh?

  I couldn’t help myself, though. I wanted to see her, wanted to look into those warm, big, brown eyes and confront her. How the hell could Jaz act so innocent? How could she stand there and give me that pitying look?

  I shouldn’t be thinking about her. I shouldn’t ever let her cross my mind. Not now. Not when my life was falling apart before my eyes and I could do nothing to stop it.

  Heaving a sigh, I got out of my car, my body feeling stiff. Had to be the stress; I hardly slept last night, so my body felt like I was lugging around a sack of bricks. I headed inside the house, finding my mom’s nurse doing laundry.

  She nearly dropped the shirt she was busy folding, rushing to me as she asked, “Any luck?” I knew she loved my mom, she’d been with us for years, but even she had to put food on the table. She wouldn’t stick around once our money ran out.

  And with the lawyer fees and the court fees…it just might, if this thing wasn’t over soon. I had the feeling it wouldn’t; I had the terrible, awful feeling it would go on and on.

  I nodded. “I’m going to the bank tomorrow.”

  She gave me a sad smile. “Good, good. Your mother is upstairs. She’s…very upset your father isn’t here.”

  Trying to tell my mom, who sometimes wasn’t in her right mind enough to recognize me, that my no-good father and her no-good husband was in jail for pedophilia and a few other charges was not something I looked forward to.

  Hmm. Maybe I didn’t have to tell her the truth. Maybe I could just tell her he was gone, that he’d be gone, for a while. That it would just be my mom and I, and the nurse.

  I headed upstairs, to her room, finding that she stood before the full-length mirror in the corner, staring at herself as if she did not recognize the reflection staring back at her. She was touching her hair—it was rather long; it needed a cut soon.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said, causing her to whirl and look at me.

  Her eyes shook in confusion. “What…where is your father, Archer? Where is he? Why do I feel so…” She shook her head, two trembling hands moving to her face. “I don’t feel like myself anymore.”

  I helped her to the bed, sitting her down. It was hard to watch someone you love become less and less like the person you remembered them as and more like a stranger wearing the same skin. It wasn’t a fate I would wish upon anyone.

  “Dad…won’t be around for a little while,” I spoke softly. “But I’m going to take care of everything, okay? You don’t have to worry about anything.”

  Mom smiled, but I could tell the smile was strained. “Oh, baby. You’re so grown up.” She ran a hand along my face, her voice shaking. “But you’re still so young. I don’t want you to worry about me, Archer. You need to live your life, too. Remember that.”

  Her words made me smile, but I could feel the emotion warring inside me. Call me a pussy, call me gay, but I wanted to cry. I wanted to lean into my mom and have her hug me, tell me, promise me it was going to be alright, that everything would get better. That time would heal all wounds and this would soon be nothing more than a memory in the distant past.

  That’s what I wanted to do, but instead I held it in, got up, kissed her cheek, and walked away.

  I never did what I wanted. My life would never be like that, I knew. I had to deal with the shit life had thrown at me right now, feign a strength that would get me through.

  This would not break me. I wouldn’t let it.

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Jaz

  Bobbi was meeting me at the dance. It was at some country club, go fucking figure. I had to get ready by myself, while simultaneously dodging the questions my mom threw at me about my date.

  Okay, so I hadn’t told her I had two dates. Sue me.

  As far as I knew, Vaughn was picking me up in one of his family’s cars. I had no idea if Dante would be with him already or if we’d pick him up after. Either way, no one was coming in the house to get me; I would be heading outside to meet them and hop in the car before my mom could whip out her phone and demand pictures.

  I didn’t want pictures of this night. I didn’t want to remember today. Honestly, the only thing I wanted was for it to be over with.

  I wasn’t looking forward to this dance. If this week had gone by and been just a typical Midpark week, I’d be all for it. I wanted to make that bitch Brittany pay, but after everything that had happened in the last seven days, how could I pretend that this was still all about me? That this was just me getting back at a girl who’d humiliated me and tried to do worse?

  Ryan was in the hospital. His friends were dead. Archer’s family had been torn apart, and both Archer and Brittany thought I was the one behind it. They’d both be gunning for me worse than they had been before.

  Who knew? Maybe Brittany was planning on sabotaging me at this dance, too. Maybe she had something up her sleeve to get back at me. It was quite possible I’d come to regret ever getting tangled up with Archer and her.

  Hell, at this point, I regretted ever coming to Midpark. I should’ve told my mom that I didn’t want to go, fought harder to stay and graduate with the friends I’d had for years. I still had no clue why we had to drop everything and move like we were running from someone, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. How could I focus on my mom, on the fact that she’d lied about my dad, when things were spiraling so far out of my control?

  My dress hung on a hanger on the outside of my closet. I’d already showered, already curled my hair and brushed it out into soft, gentle waves. Figured I’d pin some of it up after I did my makeup.

  I decided on no necklace, preferring the simplicity of the black dress and the dark tights and heels I was pairing with it. I did pop in some earrings though, give myself a tiny bit of sparkle. The last part of my outfit would be my bejeweled slut jacket. Figured I’d own it…though not until I got outside of the house.

  If my mom saw the state of that poor faux leather jacket, she’d have a fit. Plus, then she’d ask why it was labeled slut, so I’d have to explain shit to her.

  Yeah, best to just avoid that entirely.

  I didn’t do much in the way of makeup, but it still took me a while. I wanted to look good. No, better than good—I wanted to look like I wasn’t going to a high school dance but to a banquet being held by my worst enemies.

  I wanted my looks to kill, everyone around me to stop and stare and wonder why they wrote me off from the beginning.

  It was probably hoping for too much, considering these rich snobs didn
’t give a shit about me one way or another, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop myself from wanting it.

  All the while, I texted Bobbi. She sent me pictures of her progress, and I had to say, she was much better at this makeup thing than me. Then again, I supposed she did have years more practice than me, having grown up here. I was a cub, surrounded by beautiful lions who were ready to attack at any given moment.

  Soon early dusk fell, and by that time I was ready to get changed. Mom had come up to check on me so many times. Ollie even stopped by, asked me if I needed anything else I didn’t have—I was pretty sure that was his way of offering to buy me something, but I shrugged him off. I might’ve used a stranger’s money to buy this dress, but that’s all the money I would accept.

  I had my door closed when I changed out of my clothes, slipped on a lacy black pair of underwear and thin, dark tights. The dress came with pads in the chest, so I needed no bra. Thankfully, its form-fitting fabric had no zipper, so I was able to slip it on without anyone’s help. I didn’t have a full-length mirror, so I had to use the mirror on top of the dresser.

  Once I slipped on my black heels, I gazed at myself in the mirror, proud of my simple yet elegant makeup job. Paired with the dress, I really did look older. Early twenties, maybe.

  Before I thought better of it, I reached for my phone, posed in the mirror, and snapped a picture, sending it to Jacob. The man wasn’t exactly thrilled to be staying home tonight while I was going to a dance with two dates—yeah, I’d told him, figuring it was a good idea not to keep it to myself.

  He’d probably kill me when he opened his phone and saw me all dolled up, ready to go someplace without him by my side.

  I bit my lower lip, glancing at the time on my phone. Vaughn was supposed to text me when he was outside waiting, so now it was just a matter of patience. I had my black jacket ready to go near the door, and I sat on the edge of my bed, my phone in my hand.

  I really hoped tonight would go without a hitch. I didn’t want to have to worry about watching my back all night, wondering if Brittany and her crew were going to string me up in front of the whole school and humiliate me.

  My phone buzzed with a text message, and I saw it was Jacob, Mr. Grumps himself. He sent me an emoji. Just an emoji—the face that wasn’t so smiley. The face that was unimpressed, its eyes and mouth nothing but lines.

  A grin spread on my face, and I texted back: What? Don’t you think I look good?

  His response was almost immediate, I think you look too good for a fucking high school dance.

  I laughed to myself, imagining him saying that out loud. It was definitely something I could picture him saying seriously, glowering at me all the while. Before I could text him back, another message popped up. Vaughn was outside the gate. The guard had offered to let him in, but I told him to have the car park out there. I told him I’d be right out.

  After grabbing my jacket and tossing it over my arm, I headed down the stairs, phone in hand. My mom was in the kitchen with Ollie, talking about how she was so happy for me to make friends, but annoyed that I was going with a date.

  “She’s old enough to decide for herself if she wants to date,” Ollie said, causing me to pause at the base of the steps.

  He was on my side? Really? That was shocking.

  “She’s eighteen,” Ollie reminded my mom, as if she needed any reminder. “She needs to get some experience in, before she’s thrown out into the real world.”

  Before my mom could retort—because surely she was about to—I walked into the kitchen, giving them both as big of a smile as I could muster. “Not to interrupt,” I deadpanned, “but my date is outside. It’s time for me to head out.”

  My mom threw me a withering look. “You look beautiful, honey, but why can’t your date come inside? I’d like to meet the boy you’ll be spending the next few hours with. Things didn’t end well when you refused to let your date for that party come in, in case you don’t remember.”

  Oh, I remembered plenty. I remembered that day better than I wished I did.

  Ollie managed to laugh at her—yeah, the man actually laughed at what my mom said. Maybe her snide tone got to him, or something. “Piper, just let her go.”

  She looked at him, appearing unsure, and I had no idea what was going on in her head when she gazed at Oliver Fitzpatrick, but I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to hear Ollie call my mom by her first name again, either.

  “Mom, I promise I will be back before midnight,” I said. The dance officially ended at eleven, anyways, and I didn’t plan on getting into trouble like I had at the party. Hopefully everything tonight would go on without a hitch, and we could all move on from this.

  Although, I had to remind myself, not all of us would be moving on. Some people were dead because of this. Some people’s families were torn apart and would never be the same because of this.

  Had to make tonight count, because I honestly didn’t know how much more of this game I could handle.

  I guess I really wasn’t cut out for this place, for the games these rich snobs played and the terrible secrets they kept. I needed a normal life, normal friends, normal boys to surround myself with.

  Alas, that’s not what I had, and the thought of being without the current men in my life was an awful one. As much as I didn’t want their darkness, I had it anyway.

  My mom heaved a sigh, and she was quick to hug me. “Fine. Just be safe,” she told me. “And have fun.” That last part was an afterthought, but I could appreciate it all the same.

  I gave my mom and Ollie a wave before heading out of the kitchen, to the front door. Gathering my nerves, I slipped on my studded slut jacket and squared my shoulders, the same stance I would wear as Dante, Vaughn, and I entered the dance. Eyes would undoubtedly be on us; I doubted it was every day someone brought two dates to the same dance.

  The early night air was cool, but nowhere near as cold as it had been when I’d first arrived at Midpark. As I walked down the long, winding driveway to the gate, which was already open for me, I couldn’t help but marvel at how much things had changed since then. The relationships I’d started, shit I’d suddenly found myself knee-deep in. Things definitely moved fast in Midpark.

  A limo sat on the road, idling, waiting for me. After waving at the guard in the guardhouse—not Frank, since it was nighttime. I couldn’t remember this other guy’s name—I got in the back, sliding in as elegantly as I could, dress and heels considered.

  I was immediately greeted by the hungry stare of Dante, his blue stare eyeing me up greedily as I shut the door behind me. He sat in the back corner, his tall stature stretched out and looking mighty fine in a sleek, black suit. He wore a dark red undershirt, and a black tie. The hair on the top of his head was styled in a short, spiky mohawk instead of lying flat over his forehead.

  “Damn, babe,” Dante muttered, biting his bottom lip as he ran his eyes along my legs, taking in my heels. “You look fucking hot.”

  He had a way with words, didn’t he? I was too flustered to snap at him for calling me babe.

  As heat crept up my cheeks, I heard another voice in the limo say, “Normally I would hate to agree with him, but he’s right.”

  I tore my gaze away from Dante, bringing it to Vaughn, who sat on the side of the limo, hunched over, his arms resting on his knees. He wore the same type of suit, though his undershirt was black and his tie was the dark, blood-red maroon hue. He wasn’t as muscular as Dante, but with his steady stare, he looked deadlier, somehow, hate and pain written across his knuckles as a reminder of what he could do, his eyes as black as the night sky outside. His dark hair was slicked back, and he looked ready for business.

  Staring at them, at the dark, serious expressions on their faces, I knew what they were. In that moment, there was no denying the fact that they were mine. My two handsome devils, ready to bring havoc upon my enemies, more than ready to hurt anyone who made the mistake of trying to hurt me. My dark souls, my black hearts. Mine.


  The limo pulled away from the house, though I didn’t stare out of the tinted windows. How could I look anywhere but the two sexy guys in the back of the limo with me? Why would my eyes be anywhere else?

  I found my voice enough to say, “You two look handsome.”

  “Nowhere near as good as you,” Dante replied, patting his leg. “Why don’t you come sit on my lap?”

  “You wish,” I said, stretching out my legs before him, being careful not to touch him. Before he could say anything back, I leaned forward and showed them both my jacket. “Do you like it? It was a special present from Brittany. I left it at that party.”

  Vaughn said nothing, watching me with those dark, haunting eyes. I would’ve given anything in that moment to be inside his head, to hear what he was thinking. Was he imagining me out of these clothes? Did he want me to sit closer to him so he could touch me? Was he struggling to keep himself in check?

  Maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part. Vaughn and I…we had a connection, but he was never overly touchy-feely. I wondered then if he’d ever been with a girl before, or if he was a virgin.

  That…I didn’t know if that made me concerned or excited. To be someone’s first, to be their one and only—in every definition of the word—it was kind of enticing, wasn’t it?

  Dante, though, definitely had something to say about my jacket. Before I knew what he was doing, he grabbed my wrist and yanked me toward him, pulling me onto his lap, with my back against the window beside him and my legs stretched out on the seats to his right.

  “Slut,” he whispered, smirking. “I like it.” As I struggled in vain to get off his lap, he brought his lips to my ear, adding, “Our slut.”

  My wriggling ass on his lap caused something to grow beneath me, and I immediately stopped and glared at him.