Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1)

by C. L. Matthews

Or maybe it was conditioned into her, and I’m being too harsh. The real difference between us is that I’m forced into a starvation because I forgot to sustain my body by not mourning my dead brother. She loved her bones poking through her skin. Always telling me I needed to stop eating what made me happy. She was toxicity personified.

  “That’s not what’s wrong here.” The words escape me, more a sentiment and not anger. I could eat all the food, chug all the booze and soda, but my body wouldn’t tolerate it. It’s not used to fats, carbs, or much of anything that will keep me alive.

  It’s broken.

  Like me.

  My heart and what’s left of my hope.

  Big fat tears roll down my cheeks, making my face feel hot and uncomfortable. Crying should be labeled a disease for how it wreaks havoc on the body and mind. It’s such a burden to be capable of such an ugly act.

  “Colty,” Ross soothes, his voice softer.

  He comes up to me, holding onto my arms, bringing me in for a hug. My body melts like butter sitting out in the sun, becoming less and less of the hardened material it once was. An ache in my heart reaches for connection, anything to offer it hope, peace, a viable thing to live for because my life sure as hell isn’t enough to live for. Before everything happened, four guys made me feel alive, giving my heart a reason to beat, offering everything. Now, loneliness is all that meets me. I’m suffering, at the cusp of a mental breakdown, all while trying not to think about the brother who was stolen from me.

  “I didn’t mean you’re sick in that sense,” he offers.

  His voice is so serene, like when I tried meditating for a week and listened to the soft teachings of people who made me sleep. But it’s not tiredness enveloping me. He’s making me come to life in his arms, healing me in a way that shouldn’t happen. He’s worming his way inside, burrowing deep, and I hate it.

  “I’m not broken.”

  It comes out a broken sob, but we both know that’s not true.

  He holds on tighter, bringing one palm to cradle my head. When he pulls back, it’s only to look into my eyes. Sweetness fills the air as if my nose catches his scent for the first time—sugar and honey, two things Ross offers in lungfuls.

  Emotions sift across his eyes like glitter floating in a snow globe. He’s so sincere when he wants to be, but it’s never when it matters. Ross has all the control in the world, and the ability to absolutely destroy me. When he’s not tormenting me, he’s giving so much more. It confuses me more than it comforts.

  “You’re not. You’re right, Colton. You’re a survivor. My strong girl.”

  Tinges of yearning flood my veins, pushing me into him, taking his mouth with mine in the next breath. He’s thrown off for only a second, a little hiss his only sound as he cups my face, devouring my lips like they’re his last sustenance on this earth. It’s consuming and breathless, but neither of us pull back.

  Backing us up a few feet, he only stops to lift me. I moan softly when his hands cup my ass. They’re so warm and strong. He starts to carry me to my room, but my body screams to take off his clothes now, to not hold back, and I listen and reach for the hem of his shirt. He presses me against the hall wall and uses his thigh to hold me up as I help him take of his shirt. Underneath his clothes, he’s breathtakingly hot. The new tattoos he’s inked since this summer and the piercings... I’m practically melting.

  Ross palms my ass, lifting me again, taking my mouth with a fierce desperation that mirrors mine. When he pulls back a second time, it’s with an awe-filled expression. He licks both of my piercings through my bottom lip, and as if only noticing my double tongue ring, he licks those, too.

  “Fuck, you’re killing me.” His words are filled with grit, heavy with unresolved emotions he’s probably tucked away in his faux joker attitude.

  I can’t help but smirk, though. If he knew the power he had over my body, he’d be jumping with cocky indifference, or at least, if the guys were here, he would. He puts up a front with the outside world, but with me, he’s Ross. Not Dare, the asshole who doesn’t give a fuck.

  “These,” he almost grumbles, flicking his tongue over the black metal of my venom piercings again. “They’re giving me ideas.”

  “Like?” I ask, batting my eyelashes.

  “Thinking of how they’d feel against my cock as I throat-fuck you.”

  That has me squeezing his hips. He finally takes me to the room and tosses me on my bed. It hugs me as he takes residence of the space above me. Not touching, only hovering above like a king waiting for his subject to please him in every way.

  It takes no time for him to lower down my body with his confident lip bite just to kiss my bare stomach. His tongue swirls over every inked inch, and he only stops to look me in the eyes.

  “I’m going to taste every inch of you, Colt. I’m going to lick and fuck every hole of yours, and then when I’m done, I’m going to repeat it until my cock no longer works,” he rasps.

  He lifts my crop top, baring my breasts to him. He takes one look at the newest jewelry slicing through my skin and growls. It settles deep in my body, vibrating as chills kiss my skin in response.

  “Fuck.”

  I feel his hiss between my legs.

  As I grind into him, he doesn’t stop looking at my black dangling bat barbells. “What else do you have pierced?” he asks.

  A coy grin crosses my lips. I forget the fact the boys haven’t touched me since I’ve changed. The only thing they got was my belly button ring.

  “You’ll just have to see,” I taunt.

  This has him practically jumping to remove all my clothing. He spares no time to remove the rest of my top, and then he’s sliding my shorts down.

  “No panties?” he hisses, his face dark and desperate.

  I shake my head. “Didn’t see the need.”

  He’s leaning down, and his nose is running up my slit slowly. “Fuck, Colt. Fuck.”

  He inhales my pussy as if it’s the best aroma he’s ever smelled, and I squirm. It’s so depraved and primal. I can’t tell if I’m disturbed or turned on.

  He uses both hands to spreads me. Another groan rips from him in reaction. I’m starting to learn that sound as my favorite noise from Ross.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  I can’t help the giggle that escapes. He’s so entranced by the piercing on the hood of my clit, and I love the way he’s amazed.

  Without another word, he leans forward and bites it. I let out a mewl, and he pulls on it, making me sweat profusely. When I think he’s going to torture me further, he opens my folds as wide as they’ll go, and he dives in, licking long and slow strokes. After I’m canting off the bed, he’s faster, more aggressive, grunting as he eats me out. I’m a mess of moans and cries as he teases my clit and hole with his tongue.

  “Ross,” I moan loudly.

  “That’s right, princess. Come for me. Let me hear you say my name.”

  I cry out his name, my legs shaking, all while his mouth continues to torture me.

  When he’s finally done, he leans back and smiles. His chin is wet; his eyes are wild. Using my finger to call him over, he travels across my body and takes my mouth. The taste of me mixed with the flavor of Red Bull and Twizzlers has me groaning. He’s always been a foodie like me. It helps that we both smoke a lot and have similar tastes. We kiss and kiss until I’m rutting against him for more.

  “What are you waiting for?” I question, breaking our make-out session.

  He grips his shaft through his jeans, rubbing slowly over it. The need in his eyes can’t be avoided.

  “Trying to be a gentleman.”

  “If you cared about being a gentleman, you’d have fucked me without asking.”

  “Oh, princess,” he coos harshly, bringing me down the bed more. “I wasn’t asking.”

  He undoes his belt and pants, and then he’s moving over me. “Now spread those thighs wide for me, Colt. My cock is fucking famished.”

  That’s all the warning I get be
fore he’s thrusting in me. My back arches at the instant pleasure. Ross has always been hung, but I almost forgot how wide and long he is. My body barely adjusts before he’s slamming into me mercilessly. He’s a few pumps in before he flips me over, making me ride him. I start bouncing on his dick, making us both growl and hiss. He holds my hips, his thumbs digging into my piercings as my body comes up and down over his.

  When he’s getting close, he grips me even harder and fucks into me from the bottom. Not being able to keep up with his pace, I just let him control every thrust, and scream when he hits that spot inside me.

  “Fuck, Colt. You’re so tight.”

  That’s the last thing he says before he’s slowing down and grunting his release. My body relaxes on top of his. Our sweat mixes together. Knowing we fucked so hard our bodies are overheating makes my body shake with pleasure.

  He helps me off him, and my body wobbles from exertion. After I fall over, he pulls me into him, tucking me under his arm, and I can’t imagine a better place to be.

  His left arm wraps around me, and it’s beautiful seeing our ink blend together. In his arms, I shouldn’t feel this safe and secure, but I do, and while I’ll regret this tomorrow, it’s exactly what I needed to stop me from breaking apart.

  Twelve

  At some point, we must’ve passed out, or at least, I did. When I wake up the next day, there’s no Ross and no note left behind. Why didn’t Lux come after me? What is he planning?

  Staring at the empty bed, I try not to be upset at the fact that I’m alone, but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that he’s either regretting our time together, or he’s not too fond of cuddling now. He used to be a snuggle whore, I’d always teased him for it.

  It’s not my fault he pulled me into his side and snuggled me, but if he’s pissed about that, he needs a reality check.

  This changes nothing, I’m sure, but hope blossoms in my chest anyway.

  As I’m drying off after a quick shower, I notice the marks across my skin. Shit. I didn’t realize how frantic we were. Hickeys litter my throat, breasts, and hips. With my pale skin, they won’t be easy to cover up. Finding a foundation as pale as I am is hard.

  The first time I bought the lightest foundation offered at Penn & Co., I found out really soon that ‘fair skin’ is not pale enough for me. Yang and Cass made fun of me all day for that mishap, and it took me ages to try makeup again.

  Orange against pasty whiteness doesn’t add up, believe me.

  As my eyes catch all the places he left his own personal brand, a smile creeps forward. Liking this shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Wanting him to mark me as his makes me feel desired, but it’s a lie. He doesn’t want more than my body.

  I hurry to my closet and grab another long sleeve crop top and a skirt that’s a tad longer than the one I wore yesterday. The skirt is pleated with tulle underneath. If goth chic was a thing, my outfit would be definition of it.

  After putting on my face, I make sure to cover all the love bites and head out soon after. It’s Saturday, I’m smuggling myself into town to get my hair done. Scotty—my hair stylist for the last five years—doesn’t travel, and since my blonde roots are coming through, I need a touch-up.

  Lacing up my boots and grabbing my wallet, feeling lucky it wasn’t in my bag yesterday, I leave. Texting an Uber to pick me up at a location near campus, I sneak away.

  My feet are sore for some reason, and as I walk, my thighs and calves start to ache too. Shit. Shit. Shit. As I’m mentally cataloging my need for magnesium and potassium vitamins tonight, my body starts to ache, reminding me I’ve once again mistreated it.

  Glancing at the clock, it dawns on me that I haven’t eaten in twenty-four hours. Not only did I miss my meds yesterday, but eating never happened either. Food and consistency is important when trying to refuel my body and retrain it to consume regular foods.

  Soon, I make it to the meetup point I’d pinpointed for the driver, and I only have to wait ten minutes before my Uber shows up.

  Upon opening the door and sitting down, my heart nearly stops. The pitter-patter of my chest becomes a slow exploding cacophony, whether it is lack of sugar, the face staring back at me, or not breathing correctly, I’m not sure. My ears ring with the power of my heartbeat.

  “You know it’s against the rules to leave school property when you’re not a senior or part of Student Gov, right, Corpse?”

  His words swirl in my mind, but my attention sticks to the smirk making his face too snarky for his own good. My eyes linger on Lux’s lips a moment too long before I cross my arms over my chest.

  “So?” I grumble.

  He caught me, and he’s not against writing me up for it either. Lux is all about being a prick for prick’s sake.

  “Where are you headed, Dracula?”

  Nowhere that includes you.

  “Town,” I mutter. “Need tampons.”

  It’s a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

  “School shop has plenty. Now, where are you really headed? Running away? Couldn’t handle fucking Ross and need to go pout about it?”

  My eyes widen at his words. It’s only been a day. How could Ross already spill his guts? He’s worse than Charlotte Ohara, the biggest school gossip who doesn’t know how to keep a secret to save her life.

  “How—”

  “You think Ross didn’t make sure to record that little tryst?” he taunts. “Your moans made me come twice, sweetheart.”

  I growl and cringe in the same go, hating Lux even more. Ross usually isn’t that much of a tool.

  You don’t know him anymore.

  “Jealous much?” I poke, knowing that’s not why he’s bringing it up. He’s doing it for power. That’s what this entire thing is to him—a power play, a way to win and beat me and make me weak. He wants to win, but fuck, what are we even fighting for?

  “Yes, maybe I am,” he muses, touching his chin. “The fact that Dare got to dirty up the Corpse Bride in less than a month of school is quite demeaning. Didn’t know you’d slip onto a cock so easily.”

  “Fuck you,” I hiss.

  He pushes between the divider of the backseat and grips my jaw. “If you want me to fuck you, Corpse, you’re going to have to beg. My cock is needy, but it’s not desperate enough for you.”

  Instead of giving him more ammunition, I shake from his grasp and leave the car. That’s when I notice my driver standing in wait five feet away.

  Rushing over to him, I bark out Scotty’s salon’s address. Yes, he already has it from the app, but this way he can’t fuck it up and give Lux another reason to be a dick.

  Lux doesn’t follow us, and I finally breathe easily. We make it to town in an hour, and my chest aches at the heady breaths I’ve taken. Not eating is making me feel weightless, and regardless of what others believe, feeling this way isn’t nice. Yeah, being small is great and all, but not being able to stomach food and be able to work out like a normal person is maddening. I hate feeling weak and small, and that’s all this disease does.

  My depression ruined me

  Cass’ death destroyed me.

  My parents’ lack of love killed me.

  If it wasn’t for those things, Lux calling me a corpse wouldn’t bother me, but it does because I am dead.

  He’s winning by calling me that name, and I let him by allowing it to hurt. Either way, I’m losing this battle.

  The car ride is swift, luckily. A little awkward too, especially since I yelled at him when getting in the car. We arrive at Scotty’s shop, Colormore. It still brandishes its uniqueness in Arcadia Township. It’s quirky and black. The only shop appearing gothic in any sense, it stands out against the rest. I’m happy to see her chatting it up with a local. As soon as she sees me, she lets the person go and screams, running toward me. “Colton!”

  It’s such a high pitch shriek that I’m smiling nonstop.

  “My goth princess returns! Touch-up? New do?”

  “This is a lifestyle, Scotty, n
ot a phase.” I laugh when she gives me that iconic okay, honey face. She thinks that once I get over my heartbreak—that’s what she thinks is wrong—then I’ll go back to normal.

  Joke’s on her. This is my new normal.

  “I need a touch-up and wanted to maybe go black underneath?” I question myself and tap my chin. It would give me a little more umph.

  She nods. “I like that, maybe even give you a little trim.” When I shake my head, she laughs.

  “Not a cut, just chop some of these dead ends. Let’s get started!”

  Her fingers trail through my hair. Usually people touching me would make me wince, but right now, it’s like being around Cass or the guys before they fucked up. It’s comfortable.

  She skips, and I follow her to the back where her station is. Her shop was recently remodeled and is now fancy. It’s the only place updated in Arcadia Township. She sits me down and wraps the black tarp around me, humming some melodic tune that makes zero sense.

  “Any new cute guys in your life?”

  Her eyebrows raise at her question, like the motion would allow me to feel cornered enough to answer. It doesn’t. There are no new guys, only the same ones who make my life hell.

  Heat flames my cheeks anyway, and I shake my head, hoping to deny it. “Not in this lifetime. They’re all losers.”

  “The sound of a jaded woman,” she tsks. “Just imagine when you find an Antonio. Then, you’ll never doubt love again.” She grips her chest with happiness.

  Antonio is her French lover. He came over for a modelling gig, and Scotty did his hair at one of his shoots. They literally banged on set while she was supposed to get him ready, and they fell madly in love.

  Scotty is gorgeous. She’s Asian, her skin fairer than mine, her hair never the same shade twice, but what always captures my attention is her tattoos. Unlike mine, hers are woven across her, peonies and pythons, a mixture of dark and intriguing.

  Right now, her hair is bubble gum pink with coon tails underneath. The name comes from the tail of a raccoon, stripes dyed another color to give it the same appearance. She’s slender and bright, always smiling and joking.