The Mercy Academy Box Set: A Complete High School Bully Romance Series

by Lane Hart

  I grit my teeth because the jackass actually thinks he’s better than me just because he doesn’t say fuck.

  Before I can really offend his delicate sensibilities by telling him to go suck his daddy’s dick, Hannah Morgan comes bouncing over to us. She’s the female counterpart to Garrett’s good guy image, even wearing a braid over her shoulder, which makes her look younger and more innocent than the sixteen years old that I know she is. Hell, she’s probably so squeaky clean that she doesn’t even say swear words in her own damn head.

  “Hey, Garrett!” Hannah says as she throws her arms around the chump’s neck to hug him. He awkwardly hugs her back while taking a step backward like he’s trying to hide his boner from her, making me snicker.

  “Hey, Hannah. I’m glad you came back this year,” Garrett gushes.

  “Yeah, of course,” she says when she lets him go and then glances over in my direction. “Royal? Wow, I had no idea you even went to church.”

  “I don’t,” I respond.

  “Ah, well, anyway, it’s great that you’re here and want to help out,” Hannah says happily. “Oh, Garrett! Can you ask your dad to put Royal in our group? That way he’ll at least know two people.”

  “Ah, sure,” the dickhead responds with a scowl, none too happy about having me join his little group, which is the only reason I don’t object. Also, because over the last few months Hannah’s grown a big rack. At least the view every day will be decent, if nothing else.

  “You should probably go find him and get it set up before he makes the groups,” Hannah suggests, running an annoyed Garrett off with her megawatt smile.

  When he’s gone, Hannah asks me, “So, this is your first year?”

  “Yep,” I reply while staring at her round melons that are straining her thin, white Camp Caremore tee.

  “You’re going to love it!” she assures me, which I highly doubt. “We get to help so many people, which is just the best feeling in the world, you know?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, you will,” she says. “I’ve got to go tell my parents goodbye, but maybe we can catch up later?”

  “Uh-huh,” I say to her tits. “Sure thing.”

  When she leaves, I’m a little disappointed she takes her rack with her; but then I get a nice, long look at her ass in her red, cotton shorts as she walks away, her cheeks swishing with each step.

  Someone steps in front of her, though, blocking my view. And based on the man’s age and the way he’s now glowering at me, I’m guessing it’s her father and he knows I was checking out his little girl.

  Screw him. It’s not illegal to look, and there’s not a damn thing he can do to stop me.

  With a heavy sigh, I notice that the line at the registration desk is dying down, so I go ahead and suck it up to get my information packet.

  When it’s my turn, a white-haired lady behind the table asks my name.

  Is everyone who works here ancient?

  She pulls out an envelope for me, along with a campus map and a key to my dorm room.

  “Now,” she starts. “Do you have your cell phone?”

  “Ah, yeah,” I respond, pulling it out of my pocket. “It’s right here.”

  “Wonderful,” she says gleefully before plucking the device from my hand.

  “What are you doing?” I shout at her.

  “Do you have any laptops, tablets or other electronic devices in your bag?”

  “No. Now give me my phone back!” I demand.

  “Sorry, but we don’t allow phones or any computers,” she says, slapping a label with my name on the back of my phone’s cover and then tossing it into a bin full of cell phones behind her.

  “Are you kidding me?” I ask in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Serious as a heart attack,” the old bird says. “And if you are caught with electronics during your weekly room inspection, you will be disciplined, and your parents will be contacted. Now, off you go.”

  Fuck.

  If I had known I had to give up every connection to the outside world, I may have chosen boot camp instead. Although, they probably don’t allow phones either and I’d be doing pushups and running for the next four weeks. Guess that’s one upside to this place.

  Hannah Morgan

  “Are the girls in different dorms than the boys?” my dad asks while I’m hugging him and my mom goodbye.

  “Yes, of course. Why?” I ask since he’s never questioned the living situation in all the years I’ve been coming here.

  “No reason,” he mutters. “Just, stay away from the boys. They’re nothing but trouble at this age.”

  “I know that, Dad,” I tell him, thinking of one specific troublemaker.

  I can’t believe Royal Fitzpatrick is here this summer. He’s one of the richest, most popular guys at Mercy Academy. All the other boys look up to him because he’s a jock, and all the girls have crushes on him and his two best friends, Aric Prince and Blake Sullivan, because they’re hot. I’ve barely ever talked to the three guys unless one of them asked to borrow a pencil or for me to move so they could get to their lockers.

  “We better go so you can get unpacked,” my mom tells me with a smile and another quick hug. “Love you, sweetie.”

  “Love you too,” I tell them before I roll my suitcase toward the side door, ready to make the long trek up the hill to the dorms.

  And like the past two summers, all of the girls my age that I say hello to ignore me, which is so frustrating. I’ve never done anything to them, so I don’t know why they’re so mean to me.

  Hopefully, this year I can get them to just talk to me and tell me why they hate me so much.

  My room is on the second floor of the Dogwood building, which sucks because there is no air-conditioning and the upper floor is much warmer than the lower ones. Still, I’ll survive.

  I’ve already unpacked my suitcase and am sitting on my bed sketching a rose with charcoal when the door opens, and Leeanne Winters walks inside.

  “Oh, heck no!” she exclaims when she sees me. “I am not rooming with you!”

  “Wait! Why not?” I rush to ask her before she retreats. “What’s your problem with me?”

  “As if you don’t know!” Her face turns a dark shade of red before she looks away, reaching up to smooth her short, black hair down and tuck it behind her ears.

  “I don’t!” I tell her with an annoyed huff.

  “For years now you’ve just strung poor Garrett along, making him think you want him when really you’re just messing with him.”

  “What?” I ask in confusion. “Garrett?”

  “You go to school with him, and then he follows you around here like a lost puppy dog all day and night. Why don’t you just tell him that you don’t want him so someone else can have a chance?”

  “You-you like Garrett?”

  “Well, duh! Everyone knows that!”

  “I didn’t know,” I tell her honestly. That’s why the girls hate me? Because of Garrett. “And I had no idea that Garrett…I think you’re wrong. He doesn’t like me.”

  “Yes, he does. It’s pathetic and such a waste of his hotness.”

  If she thinks Garrett’s hot, then she’s obviously not seen Royal, who is, like, a million times hotter. All Royal is missing is a few tattoos and some facial hair, and then he would be the posterchild for bad boys.

  “Garrett’s just a friend. I don’t like him that way,” I assure her.

  “Then maybe you should tell him.”

  “Okay. I will,” I agree.

  “I’m still not rooming with you,” she huffs with her nose in the air.

  “That’s fine. I’d rather have the room to myself anyway,” I lie before she slams the door shut.

  The truth is, I hate being an outcast. Not that I come to camp every year to make friends. I come here to do some good for people who need it, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to that doesn’t hate me.

  Maybe once I talk to Garrett, the gir
ls will stop being so catty and will finally be nice to me again.

  Chapter 2

  Royal

  “Time to get up!” Garrett says before he finally turns off his clock radio that startled me awake and out of a really good dream. I was in an actual soft bed, not one of these piece of shit cots, and I was surrounded by boobs. Big ones, small ones, all right in front of my face, filling my hands. I was just about to shove my dick between a pair when the asshole’s alarm interrupted.

  When I finally squint my eyes open, the ceiling light is blinding, but it’s still dark outside the open window. That’s right, windows up at night are the only hope of cooling down since this fucking place is so old it doesn’t even have air conditioning, which means I probably have no less than five million mosquito bites.

  “It’s too early,” I mutter, covering my face with the pillow.

  “We have morning prayer at six-thirty before we report to the shelters to find our groups. You owe me for putting you in mine, by the way.”

  “Whatever. I’m not going.”

  “You have to,” the goody-two shoes says. “If you don’t, I’ll tell my dad…”

  “Fuck you,” I huff before slinging my pillow across the room at him. I don’t even see if it lands before I roll out of the damn bed. Not like it was that comfortable anyway. I’m hot and hard and would give anything to just fuck someone in a freezer right now.

  Since that’s not an option, I take an ice-cold shower, not by choice, and then put on the stupid white camp tee with a pair of black athletic shorts. At least the shirt reminds me that all the girls will be wearing the same tight one, so the day won’t be a complete waste.

  Half an hour later and I’ve had breakfast and am hiking up yet another hill to get to the shelter where my group is supposed to meet. I see Hannah and Garrett sitting at one picnic table with a few other guys and…all of the other girls at a table on the far side. It’s strange, but it’s too early for me to really give a shit.

  “Royal, you just made it!” one of the female counselors holding a clipboard says, so bleached blonde and peppy she’s nearly jumping for joy. “We were just getting ready to load up in the van.”

  “Awesome,” I mutter. “Where are we going?”

  “This week’s site will be Latham Park. We’ll be cleaning up, painting and rebuilding playground equipment.”

  “Wow. How exciting,” I grumble.

  “Isn’t it?” the counselor exclaims excitedly, having missed my sarcasm. She then presses the clipboard to her chest, so she can grab my hand. “We are going to have a great time serving the Lord on such a beautiful day.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say as I glare at her hand still squeezing mine. “You know what, though? I’m feeling a little queasy this morning. Think I can just observe today so I don’t vomit all over anyone?”

  “Oh, yuck,” she says, quickly dropping my hand. “I guess sitting this one out would be best.”

  “Great,” I reply in relief.

  “All right, everyone on the bus!” she yells, holding up her clipboard above her head and blowing the fucking whistle around her neck, right beside my goddamn ear.

  If she touches me again, I may just shove that whistle up her ass. Not that she isn’t cute or whatever. I just can’t take her peppiness this early in the morning. If she wanted to grab something else of mine later on, then I would be all for it.

  All of us file slowly onto a big white van, everyone heading to the back until all the tattered leather rows are filled.

  I didn’t even know Hannah was behind me until I flop down on the seat and see her about to slide in next to me.

  “Hey,” she says with a smile.

  “Hey,” I greet her melon twins that are so far the best part of waking up at the ass crack of dawn.

  “Hannah! Up here!” Garrett calls out before she can lower herself into my row, making me want to knee him in the balls for some unknown reason. All I know is that he’s going to be the bane of my existence for the next four weeks.

  Hannah

  “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Garrett asks me when I take a seat next to him on the bus.

  “Ah, yes, it is,” I agree.

  “Tonight should be clear skies too,” he adds, making him sound like a wanna be weatherman.

  “Really? That’s nice.”

  “There’s going to be a bonfire at the lake,” he goes on to say. “Do you want to maybe go down there with me?”

  Well, if that’s not a perfect segue for what Leeanne brought up yesterday, then I don’t know what is. And while I hate to be mean to Garrett, it’s probably for the best if I’m honest with him like she suggested. Not to mention I absolutely hate being hated.

  Leaning closer to him so that I can lower my voice without anyone else overhearing, I say, “I think you’re really great, Gar. You’re one of the nicest, most polite guys I’ve ever met.”

  “Ah, thanks,” he replies with a big smile and a bump of his shoulder to mine. “I think you’re great too, Han.”

  “I’m so glad we’ve been friends for so long and that we get to hang out here helping people together every summer.”

  “Oh. Friends,” he says, sounding defeated, his cheeks reddening a shade at the emphasis I put on the word friends. “Yeah, I’m glad we’re friends too.”

  Lowering my voice even more, I say, “Did you know that there are a ton of girls that think you’re cute?”

  “No.”

  “Well, there are. If you go to the bonfire tonight, I bet they’ll be lining up to talk to you.”

  “You really think so?”

  “I do. I hope you have fun,” I tell him, and then thankfully the van pulls up at the park and I’m saved from having to endure another second of this awkward conversation.

  As soon as we’ve all decided on our assignments — I asked to re-paint the old clubhouse, because having a paint brush in my hand is one of my favorite things — everyone gets to work.

  I’m on my second coat of red paint when someone behind me says, “You missed a spot.”

  Without looking, I know it’s Royal just because he’s always rude and grumpy, never with anything nice to say. Not that he’s ever said more than a sentence directly to me before…

  “Thanks, but I’ll get to it eventually.”

  “Whatever,” is his reply.

  I hear his footsteps stay nearby, so before I go back to the tray for more paint, I glance over my shoulder to find him sitting on one of the steps. His arms are crossed over his chest and his amber eyes are closed with his face tilted up toward the sun, the rays of which highlight the auburn strands in his short curls. There’s a scowl on his face that doesn’t distract from his handsomeness. If anything, it just makes him that much more appealing for some unknown reason, like the frown is only a hint of something so much deeper on the inside...

  “Stop staring at me,” he grumbles without opening his eyes.

  How did he know I was even looking at him? Embarrassed at him catching me gawking at him, I get back to work, painting in slow and even strokes. “Shouldn’t you be doing something?” I ask.

  “Nah. I ain’t doing shit today or any other day.”

  “Oh-kay,” I mutter. “Then why did you come?”

  “Not by choice, that’s for fucking sure.”

  I wince at his easy, familiar use of the f-word. “Time goes by faster if you stay busy.”

  “I’ll take my chances with being lazy,” he tells me. Neither of us speak for a few minutes until finally Royal says, “So you and dickhead were pretty cozy in the van this morning.”

  Since it wasn’t a question and really none of his business, I don’t bother responding.

  “You actually want his boring, straitlaced ass?” Royal eventually asks me.

  “Garrett’s my friend.”

  “Looked like more.”

  “Well, it’s not,” I tell him.

  “You know what?” Royal says. “Dickhead looks a little mopey over there where he’
s sanding the seesaw. That your fault?”

  Since Garrett’s working in front of the clubhouse, I glance around the corner to see him. The usually happy-go-lucky guy does look miserable with a frown on his handsome face and his shoulders slumped. Still, I won’t give Royal any ammunition to use against him. “He looks fine to me.”

  “No, he doesn’t. The dude looks like someone took a shit on his pancakes. What did you say to him this morning?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar,” he accuses. “Must have been harsh whatever it was.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” I quickly argue.

  “So you did say something to him,” Royal chuckles. “Did you tell him to fuck off? Didn’t take you for a bitch, Morgan.”

  “I’m not a bitch, and I’m sure it’s something else that has him upset, not me.”

  “Does that mean you don’t have any plans to go kiss him to cheer him up?”

  “Um, no.” The idea of putting my mouth on Garrett’s is just wrong, not because I’ve never kissed a boy before, but because I have zero interest in kissing that particular boy.

  “That’s what I thought. You friendzoned him! Brutal, Morgan. Absolutely brutal!” Royal belly laughs out loud, clearly enjoying someone else’s misery.

  “Could you go find someone else to annoy?” I ask him. “Or maybe pick up a tool and do something to help us?”

  “I’ve got a tool, all right. Want to see it?”

  “Sure –” I start to say before I realize he’s being crude. “Go away, Royal.”

  “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me, Morgan. Get over it.”

  “You may be the only person who wants to be around me,” I mutter under my breath.

  “What’s that?” he asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “You missed another spot up top. You’re gonna have to really stretch for it,” he informs me, making me roll my eyes. It’s going to be a long day.

  Chapter 3

  Royal