Break Me: Dark High School Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Sapphire Bay High Book 1)

by Naomi Martin

  “They know you know something, Winter. They don’t know precisely what, but they know you know something,” he says urgently. “And they are coming for you. You need to get out of here.”

  “I need to go to the cops.”

  “And tell them what?” he asks. “What proof do you have of anything I told you?”

  “I have you,” I insist. “You can tell–”

  He shakes his head vigorously. “I’m getting out of here. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to end up dead or in prison,” he says. “So, I’m getting out of here.”

  “You’re just going to cut and run?”

  He nods. “And if you were smart, you would, too. These are not people you want to mess around with, Winter. I’ve seen what they’re capable of.”

  “Somebody has to get justice for these girls,” I tell him. “And somebody needs to make sure Blackjacks is shut down and Donovan goes to prison forever.”

  “Guys like Donovan never have to face real justice, and you’re naïve if you think you can change that. They always find a way to slither out of it,” Owen says bitterly. “You need to run. And you need to run now. You’re a loose end they’re going to take care of very soon.”

  We stand in silence for a long moment and as I look into his eyes, I chastise myself once again for failing to see the man he truly is behind the mask he wears.

  “I’m telling you because I really do care about you, Winter. I care about you a lot,” he adds softly. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. So run. Please, just run.”

  “I can’t run, Owen.”

  His grip on my hands tightens. “Come with me. I’ve got money,” he urges. “We can build a new life somewhere. Together.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, Owen. Not after the things you’ve done,” I say quietly. “You’re a monster. A goddamn monster.”

  He looks crestfallen and I see a couple of tears spill down his cheeks before he looks away. He sniffs loudly and wipes them from his face. And when he looks back at me, his lips are pressed into a tight line. He gives me a small nod.

  “I understand,” he whispers. “Just, please, take my advice and run. Run far, Winter.”

  And with that, he turns away and hurries across the quad. I watch him disappear into the buildings as I stand there, completely numb. My disbelief and horror is quickly followed by a dark, burning rage for these girls, and toward Owen for being such a coward. That he’s decided to run rather than stand and do the right thing tells me all I need to know about him – and highlights yet again just how wrong I was about his character.

  “Fuck,” I mutter.

  I turn and head out to the parking lot, desperate to get to Bonnie. I need to fill her in on everything that just happened, and all of the information Owen gave me. And then we need to figure out what in the hell we’re going to do about it.

  “Hey, bitch.”

  Olivia honks her horn and waves at me as she pulls to a stop behind my mom’s car. She jumps out of her Beemer and sashays over, a wide smile on her face.

  “So, I have to go get a new dress for this stupid wedding my mom is forcing me to go to,” she says. “I barely even know my cousin and I’m supposed to go to his stupid wedding? Torture, right?”

  I give her a weak smile, anxious to get out of there and to Bonnie. I open my mouth to tell her I have to go but she cuts me off.

  “Anyway, I thought you could come with and help me pick something out that’s nice but appropriately conveys just how much I don’t want to be there.”

  “Oh, I would. It sounds like fun,” I say. “But I promised Bonnie I’d meet up with her to do some homework.”

  “Bonnie?” she questions. “I thought you moved out of Nerdville permanently.”

  I offer a weak laugh. “I may be renting a property there.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Come on. Just come to the dress shop with me,” she whines persuasively. “You can go play in Nerdville after.”

  “I can’t, Olivia,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  She sticks out her bottom lip, pouting. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”

  “For what?”

  She moves so quickly, I don’t even realize what she’s done until I feel the sharp pinch in my neck. She pulls the needle out and shows it to me, a menacing smile creeping across her face. My vision starts to waver and grow dark at the edges. My legs suddenly feel weak and when I open my mouth to scream, all that comes out is a thick croak. When my legs give out, I feel my body hit the pavement, and the last thing I see before the darkness pulls me under is Olivia leaning over me, filling my fading field of vision. She smiles and blows me a kiss.

  “For that,” she says.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The voices all crowd into my brain, but they’re muffled and sound far away. It’s like I’m hearing them from the other end of a long tunnel. Or from underwater. I give my head a shake, trying to clear out some of the hazy fog that’s clouding my brain as I try to figure out what in the hell is going on.

  I open my eyes, but my vision is blurry and I can’t seem to focus on any one thing. When I try reaching up to rub them, I find that my hands are bound. And a quick check shows me that my feet are, too. I’m sitting up, though. The air is cold and I hear the distant buzz of cars on the highway. The air around me smells like diesel fuel but I don’t hear the rumble of a truck right now. If I had to guess, I’d say that the chair I’m strapped to is sitting on the loading dock of Blackjacks. The same dock nineteen other girls have been drugged, bound, and shipped out of.

  Gritting my teeth, I try to avoid moving too much. Until I figure out what’s happening and why I’m tied to a chair, it’s probably better that nobody thinks I’m awake. As I sit there, I hear Asher’s voice. And Samuel’s. Then, I hear Donovan’s and Olivia’s. They’re arguing with each other. But where’s Owen? Oh, that’s right – he ran away like a coward.

  And it was Olivia who drugged me and brought me here. The realization that she’s as involved with this monstrous endeavor as any of them is as shocking as it is horrific.

  Think, Winter. Chill the hell out and think. I need to keep calm until I figure a way out of this. I sit still and listen to them, hoping to hear something I can use.

  “Why in the hell did you bring her here?” That’s Asher. “Are you fucking stupid?”

  “Where else was I supposed to take her?” Olivia argues.

  “You should have given her an overdose and left her somewhere,” Samuel suggests.

  “Miller’s Pond would have been ideal,” agrees Asher. “It’s deep and it’s secluded.”

  “Well, next time, I’ll make sure to think of that,” Olivia hisses.

  “All of you, shut the hell up,” Donovan cuts through their argument.

  To hear them discussing my death so casually – as something that would apparently be a convenience to them – is downright chilling. It sends a ripple of fear through me and I have to fight like hell to keep from reacting at all. It’s a struggle to sit there and listen to them – people I thought were my friends – discussing the disposal of my body the way most people talk about taking out the trash.

  “You all fucked up, each in a different way,” says Donovan.

  “Even me?” Olivia whines. “What did I do, Donovan? I brought the loose end here. What have these two cretins done, other than make things worse?”

  “Yes, you did, sweetheart,” he replies. “It seems you were the only one actually thinking.”

  Donovan leans over and kisses her on the top of her head. She preens like a peacock, casting an imperious gaze at both of the boys. It’s then I realize that while the boys may have been acting out of coercion, kidnapping girls because of the leverage Donovan held over them, Olivia did it out of her love for the man. She helped with his human trafficking ring out of some misguided and horrible notion that it would make him love her better. That it would put her one step closer to living the fairy-tale life with him she so desperately wanted. It’s
a thought that churns my already queasy stomach.

  “Where is Owen?” Donovan glances at his watch.

  “He’s not picking up his phone or answering his texts,” Asher notes.

  “I think he ran,” Olivia ventures. “He’s been acting weird lately. Scared. I would be willing to bet he cut and ran.”

  Donovan sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I would hate for that to be true.”

  “If it’s true, we’ll find him and take care of him,” Samuel says determinedly. “We don’t tolerate cowards.”

  “Samuel, kindly shut up,” Donovan chastises him. “Your false bravado is tiresome.”

  “So, what are we going to do with her?” Asher asks.

  “Same as all the rest,” Donovan says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “She’s exquisite, and I have a buyer already lined up.”

  “Exquisite?” Olivia’s voice sounds petulant and pouty.

  Donovan presses his lips to hers, their kiss becoming passionate enough to make Asher and Samuel look away uncomfortably. Eventually, he pulls back and gives her a beatific smile.

  “Nobody shall ever be as beautiful as you, my love,” Donovan smiles smoothly. “You have been touched by the gods themselves. Wouldn’t you agree, Winter?”

  Asher, Olivia, and Samuel all turn their heads quickly as ice suddenly flows through my veins, chilling me from the inside out. Three sets of predatory eyes fall on me at once and I can’t help but feel like a caged animal about to butchered. Donovan gives me a wide smile that somehow makes him look more ghastly and terrifying than the masked villain in a horror movie. He walks over, his thousand-dollar shoes thumping hollowly on the concrete floor, and squats down so he’s eye-level with me.

  “You know, all you had to do was come here, enjoy the free drinks, and have a good time,” he tells me. “Having beautiful, young girls like you is like… window dressing. It allows some of my more affluent members to see the sort of prize they can have, if they so desire.”

  “You are disgusting,” I hiss. “All of you. You’re monsters.”

  “I disagree. We simply provide a service,” he says. “I suppose you could call me a matchmaker of sorts, for I pair wealthy older gentlemen with beautiful young women. What I do is provide a service – a service that would no doubt be supplied by others if I did not.”

  “Oh, that somehow makes it okay, then, right?”

  “My business is not to answer questions of morality,” he tells me. “I am in the business of making money. I rather enjoy money, you see. And this line of work makes me a fortune.”

  To hear him profess that a girl’s life is nothing more than dollars and cents to him, that he is willing to sell a human being if it improves his bottom line, is perhaps the most monstrous, despicable thing I’ve ever heard in my life.

  Strangely enough, although I’m terrified right now, I feel a righteous indignation rising within me – a rage surging through my veins that is setting me on fire. That dark rage is burning away my fear and rather than cower or cry, I find myself wanting to hit, kick, scratch, and claw, more than anything. I want to fight. For myself and for the girls he sold into whatever bondage they’re currently in.

  Donovan is still staring into my eyes, a smug, arrogant smirk on his face. He looks like a man who’s not used to losing or hearing the word no. Like a man who’s not used to having anybody question him about anything. So I hock back as deeply as I can and spit squarely into his face. It’s not much, but it’s the only act of resistance I’m able to muster in the moment. And I’m rewarded with a vicious backhand that leaves my ears ringing, my eyes welling with tears, and the hot sting of his hand imprinted upon my face.

  Undaunted, though, I raise my head as the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth, lifting my chin defiantly. I see the boys hiding their mouths behind their hands, obviously stifling a laugh. Olivia glares at them, her eyes colder than the Arctic. When Donovan stands, his face is dark with rage. He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes my spit away.

  He glares down at me the way a king might look on a subject. “This is all your own doing, Winter. You are the architect of your own demise,” he says. “All you had to do was have a good time and enjoy my hospitality. Instead, you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong. And now, you must pay the price for that.”

  “Fuck you,” I hiss.

  “Charming,” he replies coolly. “I certainly hope you are less trouble to the man who is purchasing you. Though, I imagine he’s going to have to – break you in.”

  “Oh, she’s already broken in pretty well,” Asher gloats. “Trust me on that one.”

  “Please,” I scoff. “You couldn’t break anybody in with that little nub you call a cock.”

  Olivia and Samuel both howl in laughter as Asher glares are me with murder in his eyes. Even Donovan cracks a smile. But as the laughter fades, he checks his watch.

  “Right. The truck will be here in twenty minutes,” he says. “Let’s get her ready for transport.”

  And just as the last word crosses his lips, the entire world seems to go to shit around me. Seemingly from nowhere, there’s a bright flash and a beat later, there’s a muted explosion in the warehouse. I feel the concussive blast rattle my very bones as I watch Asher, Olivia, Samuel, and Donovan swept off their feet, as if an invisible hand reached down and yanked a rug out from under them. They hit the ground, covering their ears and eyes as they roll around on the ground in obvious pain.

  I look up and although my vision wavers and the world around me takes on a shimmering quality to it. It’s almost as if I’m viewing it from underwater. Through that haze, I see a host of men dressed in black, armored and helmeted, large, fierce looking guns in their hands moving through the warehouse. A pulsing of red and blue lights cuts through the darkness around me, adding to the surreal quality of it all.

  I watch as Donovan and the others are rolled onto their stomachs. The black-clad figures put their knees in the middle of their backs as they slap handcuffs on my captors. A moment later, two of the armored men are beside me, cutting away the bonds that hold me to the chair. They pick me up and quickly carry me outside, sitting me down gently on the back steps of an ambulance before someone drapes a blanket over my shoulders.

  The world around me is abuzz with activity and as my hearing slowly starts to come back, the air crackles with voices shouting to one another, the static bursts of radios, and the shuffle-stomp of booted feet moving in and out of the warehouse. A paramedic fills my field of vision and starts to examine me. He pulls a penlight out of his pocket and turns it on, making me squint.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I just need you to follow the light with your eyes.”

  I do as he says and submit to a couple other tests before he nods, giving me a warm and comforting smile.

  “You’ve got a couple of bruises, but you’re otherwise okay,” he says.

  “That’s… great.” I say, still feeling a bit fuzzy in the head.

  “Just sit tight for now.”

  “Yeah. Will do.”

  He rushes off to attend to some other business, apparently, leaving me there to try and sort things out on my own – not an easy task when you feel like your head is stuffed full of cotton and fog. But then I feel somebody next to me and before I can look up, I’m pulled into a tight, bone-crushing embrace. I finally manage to wiggle free enough to pull back and find myself staring straight into Bonnie’s face. Her expression of relief is every bit as solid as the feeling of confusion on mine.

  “Oh my God, are you okay?” she gasps.

  “The paramedic says I am.”

  She hugs me again. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

  A wry laugh bursts from my throat. “Yeah, me too.”

  Warm tears spill down my cheeks and, as the adrenaline that’s filled my body starts to ebb, I begin to tremble and shake. The sense of relief that envelops me is more profound than anything I’ve ever felt before, and that realization makes the tears fl
ow even harder. I look back out at the frenzy of activity around us, still trying to piece everything together.

  It’s then that I see four of the armored men who pulled me out of the warehouse walking Donovan, Olivia, Asher, and Samuel out with their hands cuffed behind their backs. While Donovan’s face is dark with rage, the other three are wearing matching expressions of absolute terror. They’re all loaded into waiting police trucks, the doors slammed shut behind them.

  “How, Bonnie?” I ask. “How did you know–”

  “Owen. After he talked to you at school, he found me at Grinders. He told me everything – including what was about to happen,” she explains. “We went to Sheriff McFadden and laid it all out. He made some calls – to the tribal authorities as well as the Feds. And here we are.”

  “I can’t believe they let you tag along.”

  Bonnie grins. “I told Sheriff McFadden he wasn’t leaving me behind.” She says. “And I can be very persuasive.”

  “Clearly,” I reply and then look up at her again, tears welling in my eyes once more. “I thought he ran. I thought he was getting out of here.”

  She shrugs. “He cares a lot about you,” she says. “I guess even monsters can have one saving grace. And he is a monster, Winter.”

  I nod. “He is. They all are,” I agree firmly. “And they all deserve to go to prison forever.”

  “I have a feeling Owen’s going to cut a deal,” she notes. “I’m sure he’ll get out at some point.”

  “Hopefully not until he’s old and gray,” I reply. “Chrissy Melton, Melanie Torres, and seventeen others deserve no less.”

  “I hope they can be found.”

  “Yeah, me too,” I say softly.

  Bonnie takes my hand in hers as I look around, watching the action around me with awe. And gratitude. The entire scene is unreal, like something out of a movie. I can’t believe that this is my life.

  In the pulsing and strobing glow of the lights on the emergency vehicles, I catch a face in the window of a dark SUV. Owen is staring back at me from behind the glass. He’s still so beautiful, but he looks like a little boy who’s lost and terrified. The expression on his face is heartbreaking – the expression of a man who knows he’s condemned.