The Masks We Wear: High School Bully Romance (Emerald Falls Series Book 1)

by Lee Jacquot

  I grab my phone and call Lily, a sudden overwhelming sensation of dread working its way up my spine into the darkest part of my thoughts.

  No answer.

  Calling again, I shove on boots and grab my windbreaker, pulling on the hood.

  No answer.

  Another crack of lightning pierces through the sky, stretching its electric fingers in every direction.

  Fuck.

  I leap from the window, ignoring the harsh winds slapping across my face on the way down.

  Sirens.

  Fuck!

  I’m through the back gate, around the side, and in the front door within seconds. I don’t really know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

  Lily is against the wall, holding her stomach and sporting a fresh raw bruise on the right side of her chin. Her mother, the head custodian at Emerald Falls High School, is on the ground, screaming in Spanish, struggling under the knee of a... she looks like an older version of Lily. Her long blonde hair has streaks of white that whip back and forth as she struggles to keep her down.

  Her big brown eyes flash to me, then to Lily and back again. She yells through the screams of Mrs. Conley. “Spencer, I need you to take Lily. Now!”

  I jolt upright, not thinking twice, and scoop Lily up in my arms, cradling her to my wet chest, and push out the back door.

  The rain thrashes against me as I run to the closest place I know will make her feel safe. I somehow manage to climb up the wobbly stairs and into the treehouse.

  Shuffling on my knees, I take her to one of the beanbags, but as I set her down, she clings to me, shivering violently. “Lily, I have to get you some clothes.”

  She shakes her head against my chest, bunching my jacket’s soaked fabric in her tiny hands. I relent, rocking her back and forth, waiting until her breaths are even.

  The storm rages on outside, the sirens sailing through the air for what feels like forever until finally, they stop. That’s when Lily releases me, leaning back into the beanbag, one hand still wrapped around my jacket. Her face is puffy, eyes rimmed in a deep red, and mascara streaks down her face. My heart aches for her, anger and confusion swirling around my chest as I work out what the fuck I just witnessed.

  I damn sure don’t ask though, instead I unzip my jacket. “I’m not going to leave you, but at least let me get you a blanket. Do you still have some in the crate?”

  There was a chest we used to keep under the sealed window for our sleepovers out here. It also had some battery-powered lanterns and dish towels for any spills. The chest is still there, but the new paint job makes me wonder if it houses the same items.

  She nods.

  Thank fuck. I move quickly, opening up and pulling out all the contents. The lights are set up in seconds, and when I turn around, Lily is already coming out of her clothes.

  I suck in air, heat creeping up my cheeks. Part of me wants to look away, but the other part...

  Then I see it.

  The necklace that’s always hidden.

  It’s the heart charm that belongs to a bracelet I bought her three years ago. I left it up here the day she told me not to move to Emerald Falls.

  She fucking kept it.

  THIRTY FOUR

  He sees it.

  The charm to a bracelet I found a couple of years ago when Amora and I made over the treehouse. It became clear immediately it was from him, and I think it was the second time my heart broke.

  I hated him for what he did, but I missed him so damn much I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. It felt like I still had a piece of him here, comforting me when I was surrounded by the dark. When I was lonely and broken at the hands of my mother. So I kept it, attaching it to a delicate chain long enough to keep the small charm hidden, right next to my heart. Every time I feel overwhelmed, upset, or sad, I latch on to it, and it always anchors me.

  After a few lingering seconds, he snaps out of his daze, moving quickly and wrapping the blanket around my shivering limbs. He strips off his hoodie and sweats in one fluid motion, leaving him in basketball shorts and a dry white tee.

  Spencer flops down on the beanbag beside me and hoists me closer, draping my legs over his lap and my head into his chest. Even through the blanket, I can feel his warmth. It reaches through and encircles my body, acting as a second cover. He returns to stroking my hair and rubbing the goose bumps from my arm.

  Everything about what he’s doing fuels the fresh rain of tears streaming down my face. I never told him when my mother would hit me. I was too embarrassed and thought maybe things would get better.

  I guess that’s why it’s taken me so long to feel the effects of my mother’s abuse.

  Like the frog in tepid water—merrily swimming inside, not realizing the temperature is slowly rising. Then all at once, the water is in a rolling boil, and the frog is dead. I was almost the frog tonight.

  My aunt found herself a date. A nice banker guy that set up her new account and went out—the first time since making her stay here permanently. And since the bed was calling my name after being up for over thirty-six hours, I went to it, drowning in the sweet bliss immediately.

  When I woke up, the smell of smoke encroached on my airways. Not like the house is on fire, but like a basic pack of Marlboros smokes. I crawled down the stairs, cautious, the tiny hairs on the nape of my neck standing at attention, not really knowing what would be waiting for me. Whatever it was I imagined, had nothing on what I found.

  My mother, dressed in her nicest black dress, was dancing in the kitchen. Her hair combed back in the perfect bun, a pearl necklace dangling from her thin body as she moved. A cigarette stuck out from the corner of her lips, a cherry appearing at the end as she took a long drag.

  She heard the stupid stairs creak from my weight, and she snapped her face up to meet my gaze. My lips pulled into a vicious snarl, anger licking up my spine and settling between my shoulder blades. “Why are you here?”

  My mother looked at me, wiping away a streak of mascara I hadn’t noticed before, and smiled.

  After that... everything blurs into punches and kicks. And it wasn’t me who was at the receiving end this time. I’m relatively certain I blacked out, succumbing to the built-up rage that resided beneath my skin, waiting for its chance to wreak havoc.

  But then, my light, my sun, the guy that’s taking over my life, appears at the door, leaving the rest to be forgotten.

  When my mind returns to the present, Spencer is kneeling in front of me, his glorious eyes searching my face, trying his hardest to read my thoughts. I decide not to speak and instead reach up, planting my hands on the side of his face and drawing him to me. His lips cover mine in the sweetest, softest kiss yet.

  He’s hesitating. As though he’s scared he’s going to hurt me.

  It strikes a match of irritation, and I push into him, deepening the kiss and nipping at his lip. He moans in my mouth, and my core tightens.

  “Love me,” I whisper against his mouth, too caught up in his web to worry about the missing ‘make’ and ‘to’ in my request.

  “I already do, baby.”

  We freeze. His hands are locked in my hair, mine are wrapped around his back. Our lips are inches apart, the staggered breaths we exhale whirl between us, drowned by the storm surging outside. So many reasons to keep going and never look up, but we stop. Our eyes look into each other’s as if they hold all the answers in the world.

  And maybe they do.

  At least the questions I want answered.

  We are what we need more than anything in the world. Today, yesterday, tomorrow, and I’ll be damned if I waste another minute not wrapped in his love.

  I reconnect our mouths, arching, so my body is flush against his, our lungs taking and receiving the same small puff of air, making me dizzy. Grinding into him, I hook my hand in his shorts, pulling them down, greedily searching for his length currently pressed into my leg.

  He hisses when my cold hand wraps around it, smiling into my mouth. It�
��s wide as hell, and for a second, I wonder if it will hurt. Besides some fingers, nothing else has been inside me.

  Shit. Am I supposed to tell him...

  No. Well, maybe I should.

  But what if he stops?

  “Where’s your head? Come back to me.” His throaty whisper travels right to my core, turning my thoughts into incoherent whimpers.

  He kisses my chin. Once. Twice, and then descends to the column of my throat, taking care to be as soft as possible. My pulse throbs under his tongue until it moves down, sliding between the valley of my breasts and then down to my navel.

  I keep my eyes on him as I take his dick and drag it through my soaked folds, trembling when he growls below me.

  “Lily,” he hisses through clenched teeth, moving back up to nip at my bottom lip.

  Whether it’s a warning or challenge, I’m not quite sure, but I’m ready to find out. Lining him up with my entrance, his beautiful eyes snap to mine, dark, hooded, needy. His eyelashes flutter, and a shiver shakes through him as I tilt up, pushing the tip of his head inside.

  “Fucking hell.” Spencer slides in more, digging his hands in my ass. My eyes flare, a little pain spiked with immense pleasure as I stretch around him to accommodate his width.

  Then, out of nowhere, he pulls out. Chocolate eyes flitting back and forth, brows furrowed with what looks like rage. My body mourns the quick loss of him, and I automatically reach out, pulling him back to touch me.

  He sucks in a quick breath, his throat bobbing from his harsh swallow. “Lily. Have you had sex before?”

  I groan, tilting my pussy up, so it rubs against him. “Why does it matter?”

  His eyes disappear, rolling in the back of his head as he feels me. His words are strained, and it’s easy to see he’s holding on by the thinnest of threads. “Please, just answer me. Have you?”

  “If you promise, you won’t stop,” I clip, wrapping my hand around him again. He’s somehow harder now, and it’s pulsing under my fingertips.

  He nods.

  So I answer.

  “No.”

  THIRTY FIVE

  She’s a fucking virgin?

  I literally turn off my brain, refusing to let my thoughts run away and take me out of this moment. Instead, I lean against her, propping myself on my elbows. “Are you sure?”

  She grunts, her face tensing as if she’s the most annoyed person in the world. But then she narrows her eyes, and I know if looks could kill, I’d be a fucking goner. “If you don’t put it back in, I will.”

  And she means it. She bucks her hips, and my head slips inside, the slickness of her cunt letting it glide right in.

  “Okay, but slow.”

  She grits her teeth, but nods, nonetheless.

  I push back in, and much to my agony, slow, reveling at the way her tight channel squeezes around me, pulling me in further. She’s nothing but wet, coiled muscles, and her moans into my biceps are almost my fucking undoing. I want to ask her if it hurts, but she answers the unasked question, jerking her hips back and meeting my next thrust.

  Fuck. She feels so fucking good.

  She buries her teeth into my arm, reaching to pull me closer. “More.”

  I want to take it slow, cherish her for giving me something so fucking important, but she backs away again and shoves herself up, taking my dick all the way to the hilt.

  Fuuuuuuckkk.

  Gripping her ass, I sit up, letting her legs wrap around me like a vice, and drag out to the head. I lean forward and push back in. She throws her hands above her head, stifling a scream. Working up a rhythm, I lose myself and whatever control I had, moving in tune with each moan spilling from her lips.

  My eyes flash to the window where the rain and lightning still attack the earth, drowning every other sound with its winds. I reach up, hooking a finger under her chin and tilting it so she can look at me. Her chest is flushed, pebbled nipples peek from behind a lacy bra, and rain droplets shimmer on her skin as she rocks her hips. Everything about her is breathtaking.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.”

  Her eyes widen, and she nods. I reach up, tearing the fabric of her bra down, and find the pert little nipple with my tongue. Biting softly, I coax a whimper from her before rolling it around until it’s unbearably hard. My other hand works its way down, finding her sensitive clit waiting. Rubbing in small circles, I start slow but accelerate as her moans get louder, hungrier.

  “Come for me, Lily.”

  Lily’s legs tighten around my waist, and her muscles tense, her impending climax consuming her. Her pussy flutters before her body finally seizes beneath me, her orgasm ripping through her body. She screams her release into the next strike of lightning and roll of thunder at the moment I can’t fight anymore. My balls tighten, a surge exploding through my body as I come. Colors crash behind my eyelids, black, blues, silvers, and white. I have to find her lips with mine to ground me. To bring me back down to earth.

  When our breaths finally sync, the high rolling through our bodies coming to a close, we slump into each other. Exhaustion takes over, and for the first time in five years, she sleeps in my arms while the world rages on outside, and I know what I’ve known all along.

  I’m in love with Lily Conley.

  Monday used to be just a typical day. Not one I hated and not one I was excited about. But today, knowing I’ll see Lily puts an extra pep in my step when I pull up to the school.

  Yesterday, she spent time with the woman I found out was her aunt, at the police station and later with her family therapist for an emergency meeting. Both pieces of information I acquired over text. Though what actually went down on Saturday is still a mystery, Lily has all the time in the world to tell me.

  Something I’ve learned about people, especially those who shoulder a significant burden, is that words are easier to write, or in this case, text, rather than talk about face-to-face. It’s difficult when the strong have to be vulnerable, and however she wants to tell me these things, I appreciate it. She’s given me so much already…

  My mind drifts to Saturday night, when the world was crashing both outside and inside the treehouse. The place we spent years laughing, crying, playing, loving. Seems kind of poetic in a way that it all came back full circle to where it started.

  “Hey you.” Her voice cuts straight to my core.

  I spin around, grinning like a dummy from ear to ear, but it soon evaporates. We haven’t talked about how things are going to be. We made out in front of some kids from AP science, but I hadn’t put much thought into how her group of people will react.

  Lily’s lips are on mine before I have a chance to finish my thoughts that now don’t even fucking matter. My hands wrap around her waist, lifting her and spinning in a full three-sixty before placing her back on the ground.

  She giggles into my mouth, kissing me once, twice before backing away.

  Her face, as beautiful as ever, glows today. Her rose lips stretching into an endearing smile, lighting up her aura from a thousand miles away. She’s wearing my windbreaker from the other night over a cropped white tee and painted on black jeans.

  But it’s not the mouthwatering outfit, flowy hair, or lack of contacts that puts my heart in my throat. Nope. It’s the necklace.

  It’s not hidden today, dangling from her neck like she couldn’t be prouder to wear it.

  I thread my hand through hers, and she leans against my shoulder as we walk, or maybe float is a better word, toward the entrance.

  As soon as we pass the school threshold, I feel it. Every single person within our vicinity is staring at us. Some are stifling laughter, others are whispering comments I can’t quite make out, but the air is thick and putrid, reeking of something I can’t place.

  My back tenses, unsure if it’s me, or if she feels it too. But when I look down, her eyes are already on mine, a confused look pinching together her delicate features.

  Amora and Remy surprise us, app
earing out of fucking thin air.

  Remy is worried, her big hazels darting back and forth between Lily and me as if she’s on the verge of tears but also waiting for some big thing to happen. She rocks on her heels, her chest heaving.

  Amora, on the other hand, is fucking pissed. Her nose flaring, eyes bulging, and teeth bared. She doesn’t even look at me and instead holds out a balled-up piece of paper for Lily to take.

  When I look at Remy, I notice she, too, has a wad of flyers in her clutches.

  Lily releases my hand and grabs the flyer, unraveling it as I take one from Remy.

  The world stops. Completely and utterly. All sound ceases to exist, while all colors fade to a gray scale.

  Holy. Shit.

  It’s a picture of Lily, fall of her senior year, I’m guessing. She’s all bright white teeth and perfect hair. Her eyes twinkle somehow, even beneath the contacts. There’s a thick layer of makeup covering her naturally beautiful face. The true mask of the Queen of Emerald Falls.

  But next to that is a mug shot. Fresh off the fucking press of Lily’s mom from Saturday. It’s not hard to see the resemblance as they share the same heart-shaped face, small nose, and slightly pointed ears. But if you didn’t know they were related, the big, bold black caption underneath does it for you.

  Lily Conley, the PEASANT of Emerald Falls

  The same words I told her when we were in the pink room. Lily doesn’t miss a beat. Whatever was there just moments ago crumbles into dust, replaced by the girl in the picture. Her lips flip up in a snarl as she homes in on me with a sharp red stiletto. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Don’t.” I know where this is going, what she’s fucking thinking, and there is no way in hell I’m going to let her spiral. Let her think I would do this.

  Reaching out for her, she recoils immediately as if I’m trying to burn her. I ignore the intense pang in my heart and step forward.