Devious Bully - (The Devil's War #1): A High School/Stepbrother Bully Romance

by Harmony Grey

  I really hope she’s right—for the both of us.

  “I know this is a new place and it will take some time for you to adjust, but you can take all the time you need, baby because I’m not planning on going anywhere. Not this time. I want you to enjoy it here too. I want you to feel comfortable and at home. Dean cannot wait to meet you,” my mom adds and I’m guessing she’s hoping that little bit of information will improve my mood, but I’ve been here before. This isn’t my first rodeo and unfortunately, I don’t think it will be my last.

  “I’m not feeling too great, mom. I think all the travelling today has taken it out of me.” I lie freely as I clutch at straws, desperately trying to find a way to get out of the inevitable. Sure, I know I need to meet Dean eventually, after all I’m now living in his house, but I think I need some extra time to adjust to my new surroundings.

  “Livy, baby. This is your home now. The least you can do is make an effort.” My mom’s eyes narrow some more, all carefree and kindness has evaporated from her expression like the true mask that they were. “And, family dinners are going to be non-negotiable.”

  “Please?” I beg her, and finally she softens some. “This is a big change for me. You know I don’t adjust as fast as you. Just give me tonight alone so I can make sure I’m ready for school and stuff tomorrow and I promise I’ll play happy families tomorrow. Deal?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  OLIVIA

  Thankfully my mom didn’t force me to dinner last night.

  Someone somewhere must have been looking over me because by some crazy miracle, just before my mom was about to pull me off the bed so I could change into something more appropriate, almost right to the second before my mom was about to kick up the mother of all fusses, Dean called to tell her that he wouldn’t be able to make dinner after all.

  He was full of endless and most likely empty apologies. Apparently missing dinner, something the two of them had planned for a while was totally unavoidable. Some kind of emergency had come up at Dean’s work and he couldn’t get out of it.

  Personally, I couldn’t have been happier.

  I was totally ecstatic at the news, but my mom… wow, she was wild on the inside, bubbling like a volcano that was ready to erupt. She certainly seemed more than a little upset about being stood up at the last second and I was forced to watch as her smile faded and the rare sparkle in her eyes dimmed into nothingness, like a slow and painful death leaving nothing behind but empty pools of darkness staring back at me. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be a forever thing as my mom’s mood miraculously recovered and improved at an alarming rate when Dean told her there was some cash in his office to order takeout.

  Massive fail on Dean’s side if you ask me. I know she won’t let him live this down for weeks. Plus, now that my mom knows where he keeps his spare cash it really wouldn’t surprise me if she’s already burned a hefty hole into it, already decided on what she’s spending it on in her materialistic head. After all, if there’s one thing my mom loves almost as much as men then it’s money. Money which isn’t hers, or what she doesn’t need to give back.

  However, none of that really matters right now.

  What matters is that I need to concentrate on clearing my mind from my mom and all things relating to her and focus because today is a new day and it’s one that I’ve been dreading, filling the pit of my stomach with an uneasy and uncontrollable dull ache. It doesn’t matter what I try to do to ease it. I’ve had crippling stomach pains ever since I woke up this morning and a few hours in, it’s showing no signs of improving or letting up anytime soon.

  Today is my first day at Manorcroft High and there’s no doubt in my tired mind, not a single one that the whole place will be bursting at the seams with overly obnoxious, entitled little brats. The kind of people who don’t know how lucky they are to have what they have. The type of people I’ve never had the time of day for and now I’m going to have to spend most of my days rubbing shoulders with them. My stomach tightens again just thinking about it. Seriously, it’s enough to make me sick. I’m not stupid, and I can already tell it’s going to be one hell of an experience and then some. Most likely it’s going to be one I won’t forget in a hurry.

  It’s pretty clear for me to see, especially given the type of luxurious accommodation and lifestyle I’ve just walked into that the whole elite of Manorcroft High and little old me aren’t going to mix all too well, if at all. I think we’ll be as compatible as gas and a naked flame.

  It’s no secret that I’m already going to stick out like an infected zit, one that’s ready to rupture and I’m dreading it. If only I could find a way out of this mess, then I’d take it in a heartbeat and save myself the embarrassment.

  It’s also a no brainer that all eyes will be on me right from the moment my trusty ballet pumps touch down on their sacred soil—their territory. Anyone can see that I don’t belong here. That this privileged lifestyle isn’t for me, and I strongly doubt it ever will be. Obviously my mom’s materialistic traits skipped my generation—thank goodness.

  I originally thought my mom would have been more than happy to enroll me into any old school—any school that would have me so long as it meant less work on her part. After all, she’s never been one to easily part with money. My mom’s like a magpie when it comes to anything shiny or worth value. I never really gave my previous schools much thought and I was never all too bothered about where she’d shove me before. Any school would do in my mom’s eyes, no matter its reputation or how rundown it was. So long as I was out of sight and out from under her feet, she didn’t give a damn.

  But now times seem to have changed, and now my mom has a solid reason to keep up her stupid fake ass appearances. I just really hope it doesn’t turn out to be a total waste of time, or money for that matter, because when we finally end up uprooting in the middle of the night sometime in the near future, it won’t just be me losing out this time.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Screw this. I shouldn’t be wasting what little energy I have worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet, no matter how inevitable they may be, or my mom’s drama. I throw my head back on a weary sigh as I desperately try to remove my mom and her stupidly impulsive and reckless decisions from my mind.

  Fortunately, I didn’t need to worry too much about the rare possibility of facing the woman who birthed me this morning and I’m kind of glad because that was one headache I totally didn’t need. I still made sure to plan ahead. I set my alarm earlier than I needed to before finally crashing out in the early hours. I was determined to escape from her wicked grasp in peace.

  I shouldn’t have bothered going to too much trouble though to avoid my mother at all costs, because when it was finally time to face the music, I creeped down the never-ending monstrous marble staircase and I was greeted by nothing but an eerie silence. The whole place looked empty, totally barren of its living occupants.

  The second I realized I was all alone, I had zero plans to stick around to see how things unfolded. Silence to me was a rarity and absolute bliss, like a summer’s afternoon, lay on the beach listening to nothing but the beauty of the waves as they crashed against each other. And there’s no way I was about to let anyone, my ever-absent mother included to burst my beautiful little bubble.

  Instead, eager to get out of this place I quickly and quietly crept across the foyer towards the large double oak doors, grabbed my mom’s keys for her truck off the antique table, which alone looked like it probably cost more than my mom has fleeced from guys in her lifetime, and I escaped like a secret assassin in the night… right out into the cold ass crisp November air. My whole body felt like it was freezing instantly but I knew I had to keep moving, so I willed my feet to keep going and didn’t give so much as a backwards glance to the mansion right behind me.

  I won’t lie. A small, tiny fragment of my hardened black heart had kind of hoped that my mom would have been up and ready, eager to greet her only child and wish me lu
ck on my first day.

  I mean, this is supposed to be a fresh start for us after all. My mom’s famous last words, not mine, yet as per fucking usual that was probably nothing more than an empty attempt as she tried to keep me on side. What’s one more big fat lie falling from her mouth? Because that’s the only things that ever come from my mom—big fat, empty lies and broken promises—which I’ve always tossed onto the ever-growing pile of bullshit I’ve already accumulated over the years.

  I guess it’s true what they say—a leopard never does change their spots. It saddens me to admit it, but my mom’s proven that sorry little fact to be true time and time again. And now it seems like she’s on the top of her game, the way she always is when it comes to anything concerning me. My mom specialized in ignoring my existence, especially when she’s too occupied entertaining her current man of the hour. But then I guess I’m the fool for ever thinking she’d be able to change the habit of a lifetime.

  And there I go again.

  My mom has crept in and invaded my thoughts. Something which seems to happen a lot, and I doubt I cross hers often, if ever. I also need to remember that today isn’t about her. Today is about me as I’m faced with the endless struggle of trying to start over once again. Hoping this time that I’ll actually be around long enough to take it all in. Maybe I’ll be able to create some lasting memories instead of seeing each individual town falling into the distance from the back window as me and my mom drive away from it onto our next destination. Maybe I’ll learn to feel what it’s like to have a childhood and be happy. And if I’m super lucky I might even be here long enough to make a friend or two along the way. I’m not greedy by any means… one real friend would be more than enough for me. I could even be here long enough to sit my exams and bag myself some decent grades—even if it is through the skin of my nose.

  I know I’m being overly optimistic here, and nothing like this ever works out for me, but I have to hope. I need to believe that I can plan and achieve a better future for myself because if I don’t then what the hell am I even living for?

  I’m almost eighteen for god’s sake. I shouldn’t even be worrying about grown ass bullshit and the endless ways my mom could potentially screw this up for me. It’s kind of common knowledge now that my mom always puts everyone and anyone before me—her only child—her own flesh and blood, who she so carelessly brought into this world.

  I have so much on my mind right now and the most important one being that I need to find this goddamn school and making sure I arrive there in one piece.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OLIVIA

  Fortunately, luck seemed to be on my side for once as I set off with multiple doubts swimming in my mind, mixed with the constant fear of not knowing how today was going to play out. It could only be a nightmare or end in disaster, that much I was sure.

  Surprisingly, the unfamiliar roads were clear, and I didn’t take any unexpected or wrong turns along the way, which left me with way more time to spare than I had initially planned for. Time which I ended up spending overanalyzing my current sitch while trying to regulate my erratic heart rate and trying to calm myself down before I ended up falling victim to the mother of all panic attacks.

  I needed to calm myself and fast so that I could focus and be functional enough to tackle whatever today tried to throw at me.

  I thought setting off earlier would be the perfect plan. I was always led to believe that hardly anything can go wrong when time is on your side.

  How fucking wrong was I?

  My award winning and foolproof plan was crumbling and had backfired on me like no other has before. Nothing went in my favor, and now I’ve found myself all alone in my mom’s truck, totally out of my comfort zone with a whole heap of additional thinking time. And let me tell you, it’s not doing shit for my crippling anxiety. What started off as a dull ache in the middle of my chest has now manifested, growing bigger and duller as it festers, spreading it’s toxic poison deeper inside my body and before too long it will take over and consume every single piece of me until I’m gasping for air, my chest feeling like it’s about to cave in, suffocating from my own lack of oxygen as I’m fighting against it, desperate to breathe in all the air I can manage as I try to rid myself of this invading poison.

  Here’s to hoping my mom will prove me wrong for the first time in her sorry life. Here’s to hoping she’ll find it deep within herself to grow the hell up and stick out a relationship—even when it starts to get too tough or she begins to fall a little too deep. Maybe then I’ll finally stand a better chance of fighting off my demons once and for all.

  Now that would be an epic improvement on the life my mom’s given me so far.

  When it feels like enough time has passed and I’m fast failing to come up with any more viable excuses, realizing I can no longer hold off the inevitable, I kill the engine before clutching the wheel like my whole sorry ass life depends on it. I hold it so tight that when my eyes fall and land on my knuckles, I see they’re a deathly shade of white.

  I can do this…

  “I have to do this.” I quickly correct myself. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done this before. I’ve lived this tale more times than I’d like to remember. Really, I should be an expert on first days by now, yet the nerves never seem to disappear. Hell, they don’t even fade into the background.

  I’ve walked through the main office of many schools, and I’ve usually walked straight back out of them just as fast—sometimes only a matter of weeks apart, but to my mom that’s obviously normal behavior.

  I’ve been subject to the usual mutters and jeers that being the new girl brings. The heated stares never fail to disappoint, nor the never-ending assumptions of my background and how I possibly ended up at that particular school with nothing but myself to my name. Honestly, I’m used to every single kind of reaction and smart-ass comment, and before today I’ve always managed to shrug off the unwanted attention because none of that has ever mattered to me. Other people’s unwanted and totally unwarranted opinions have never defined or validated me, and they never will.

  I never paid much attention to the hushed whispers or how the other kids suddenly fell silent whenever I walked into a room, because I knew it would only be a matter of time before my mom decided to pick us up and drive straight out of town again, ready to make her move on her next victim and I’d be forced to endure the whole goddamn ordeal over again, along with all the drama that comes along with it.

  My whole life feels like Groundhog Day. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t see a way out of this never-ending cycle. I can’t find any loops and I certainly can’t break it. That position falls on my mom and my mom alone, and she isn’t going to change her ways. There just doesn’t seem to be an end in sight.

  Not today.

  Not next week.

  Not ever…

  I allow a few more minutes to pass me by, and they do in a total blur until my clouded mind begins to clear and I finally see movement stirring to life from my peripheral in the parking lot.

  “This is it…” I mutter nervously to myself while a flurry of black and gold uniforms penetrate my vision.

  What the actual fuck? I pull myself forward, leaning over the wheel to take a closer look. What the hell are these kids wearing? Panic begins to tingle at my senses when I quickly realize that I’ve only gone and rocked up to the wrong fucking school. So much time wasted, and now I’m going to have to waste some more by trying to find where I’m supposed to be.

  But that can’t be right. This place has to be Manorcroft High. I followed the directions down to the last letter. My eyes lock onto the large gothic building to my right and a black crest with gold lettering fills my vision, telling me I’m definitely in the right place. I’m where I’m supposed to be. But if I’m in the right place then why are all these people passing me by in a blur, yet their black and gold uniforms stand out, warning me that something clearly isn’t right here.

  I grip the wheel even tighte
r as my built-up frustration bubbles closer to the surface, almost ready to burst but I know I need to try my best to keep a handle on my emotions. I swear I could fucking kill my mom. Sure, I know she doesn’t use her brain at the best of times, but this is taking things too far. Is this woman so hell bent on humiliating me for the rest of my living days? She must be. Why else would she completely forget to tell me that my new school has a uniform and looking at the kids from outside the window, a very strict one at that? More importantly, why the hell didn’t she think to tell me that I’d be needing one too?

  I guess there’s a small chance that she didn’t notice the masses of black and gold when she stopped by. I bet my mom never even glanced at the paperwork they would have given her when she foolishly enrolled me at this gothic manor, or maybe I should listen to what my instinct is telling me and that she just doesn’t give a damn. After all, my life or whereabouts don’t really concern her from the second I walk out of the door in the morning, and they don’t really concern her all too much when I come home either.

  I keep hoping that one day her attitude and behavior towards me will change but I’m also wise enough to know that no matter what, no matter how much it stings and pierces at my already damaged heart, my mom will never care about me. She’ll never care about anyone but herself. And that’s a sorry fact she keeps proving to me time and time again.

  I continue to watch the mass of people as they carelessly walk by my mom’s truck, completely oblivious to my current issues.

  It’s sickening how so put together they look. Each and every single one of them look pristine and perfectly presented. I can’t see a single hair out of place, and as I narrow my eyes as I try to focus them further through the heated tears of frustration, I see that the gold embroidery is intricated all along the hem, making the blazers look perfectly tailored to the wearer.