Revenge: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Longhorn Academy Dark Bully Romance Book 2)

by Amy Brown

  My phone buzzes as a text arrives from an acquaintance. Skip is an almost friend of mine, who I hope will help me with my plan to drive Charity away from Longhorn Academy. She’s stubborn and way tougher than she looks. I’ve already tried taking her down head on, she won that round. But she has an Achilles heel. We all do, but hers is her little brother Luke. Skip is going to help me get to Luke.

  I text Skip back. I have a situation and I’d like some help.

  What kind of situation?

  I glance around, but no one is paying any attention to me at the moment. All eyes are focused on Charity and Sophia. It’s delicate. Distasteful. Might even push the boundaries of decency.

  We both know I’m not decent.

  That’s the truth. Skip is a jerk. A real asshole. But his lower qualities come in handy, when you need to do things other people won’t do. Does your kid brother Ronnie still go to Bartholomew Middle School?

  Yeah. Why?

  I need a favor. There’s two hundred bucks in it for you and your brother.

  We’re in.

  I laugh. You don’t even know what it is I want you to do.

  Doesn’t matter. For two hundred bucks I’d sell my grandmother into white slavery.

  Jesus.

  I frown, feeling uneasy about what I have planned. It’s not too late to back out. But I need to do maximum damage to Charity, and the only way I can think to do that is by going after her little brother. I feel bad because Luke seems like a nice kid, but I have to do something before Charity singlehandedly dismantles The Elites. Look how she just made Sophia apologize to the entire school, and Jeremy actually encouraged it.

  If Charity plays nice, Luke won’t even need to get hurt. But I need a person in place, who can make Luke’s life hell, should Charity not capitulate. Skip’s little brother Ronnie is just the ticket. He’s only eleven and well on his way to being a bonafide delinquent.

  I text Skip a response. I’ll send you all the details tonight. I just wanted to be sure you’d be on board.

  Me and the little bro are always down for some mayhem.

  I shiver. Knew I could count on you. Later.

  The lunch bell rings, and I leave the cafeteria fast. The longer I dawdle, the more kids notice me and try to think of ways to make my life shitty. I work my way through the day, going to my classes, dodging punches, and spit. Not sure how I’m going to put up with twenty plus more days of this shit, but I don’t have much choice. It’s either deal with it or change schools, and I’m not starting over at some new school. Working my way back into The Elites is way easier than being the new kid.

  When I get home, I text Skip Luke’s full name and description. I make it clear I don’t want anything to happen unless I say so. What I don’t need is Ronnie jumping the gun and fucking everything up. My plan is to arrange a meeting with Charity tonight, where I’ll tell her what’s up. If she’ll agree to leave Longhorn Academy, not one hair on Luke’s head will be touched. If she fights me, he’s going to get bullied. I don’t think the choice will be hard for her. By the beginning of next week Charity should be history.

  I hear the sound of a car in the front yard, and I go to look out the window. It’s my dad getting out of a taxi. Scowling, I step back from the window. What’s he doing home? Mom’s still in Arizona, and he isn’t due back for another week. I groan because I’m too tired to deal with him right now. My life is in the crapper already. I don’t need him nagging at me too.

  I do my best to avoid Dad the rest of the afternoon. I shower, go for a run, and basically pretend he’s still in China. Eventually though, he corners me when I sneak down to the kitchen for a snack. I have my head in the fridge when he enters the kitchen.

  “There you are, Mason. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” His big voice booms from the doorway.

  I pretend to be surprised. “Dad. I thought you weren’t coming home for another week.” I move toward him, and we hug. I notice he ignores my comment about him coming home early.

  Dad’s a big man, not fat, just tall and muscled. His hair is salt and pepper, and his eyes dark brown. He exudes aggressive energy, and I’m usually drained after just a few minutes in his presence. He’s always full of advice about what I should be doing with my life, and usually it’s the opposite of what I want to do. He has lines under his eyes, as if he’s tired, and he leans against the granite island, studying me.

  “You keeping out of trouble?” he asks.

  “Of course.” I grab a string cheese from the fridge, wishing I could wash it down with tequila. But Dad doesn’t approve of underage drinking, he barely approves of over age drinking. A real bone of contention between my mom and him, seeing as she’s a lush. “Are you keeping out of trouble?”

  He shrugs. “Of course.”

  I throw the plastic wrapper from the cheese in the trash, and take a big bite. I don’t have the patience to slowly peel strings of cheese right now. “Mom will be disappointed she’s not home to greet you.”

  He nods. “I actually came home early on purpose. I wanted to talk to you about your mom.”

  My stomach tenses. “Oh, yeah? What about?” God, they’re not getting a divorce, are they?

  He sighs. “She’s got this foolish idea in her head she wants to go back to work.” He scowls. “I’ve told her I don’t like that notion, but she just keeps at me about it.”

  I’m on my mom’s side about this. I think she’d drink less and be happier, if he’d stop interfering in her desire to work. “You won’t like what I have to say on the matter.”

  He frowns. “What?”

  “I think she should go back to work.” I hold his gaze, trying not to cower when his eyes darken with irritation.

  “Since when?”

  “Since always. I never agreed she should quit. She loves selling real estate, and she was great at it.” How is it possible he has no idea of my stance on this? We’ve argued about it in the past. I guess that just shows how mentally checked out he can be.

  He waves me off. “I should have known you’d be on her side. You’re always on her side.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  He raises his brows. “Excuse me?”

  My face warms. “Sorry.” I clear my throat. “That’s not true. I just think she’d drink less if she had something to do. She’s bored.”

  “No wife of mine is going to work,” he grumbles. “For Christ sake, the woman has everything money can buy, and yet she’s drinking herself into a stupor every chance she gets.”

  Anger prickles me, and I have to work hard not to let it show. “Dad, you’re being unreasonable. She’s not a little child. She’s a grown woman. It’s bad enough you won’t let me get a job, but Mom needs something to do when you’re off in China for weeks on end.”

  “She has a home to run.”

  I roll my eyes. “We have a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener.” I shake my head. “I’m almost eighteen and I’m hardly home. It’s not like she has to change my diapers. What part of the home is she running?”

  He chuffs. “What I don’t need is everybody in Blue Horn talking about how my wife has to work because I can’t support our needs. Is that what you people want? For us to be the subject of town gossip?”

  “People will talk no matter what,” I mutter. “I mean, they’re probably gossiping about mom’s fall already.”

  He frowns. “Why would they? That’s rather heartless.”

  I squint at him. “You do realize Mom fell down the stairs and sprained her ankle because she was drunk, right? She didn’t just trip.”

  He widened his eyes, as if shocked. “What?”

  “How is it possible you don’t know this?”

  He sputters. “She said she fell over her feet.”

  “She’s lying,” I growl. “She fell down the stairs because she drinks non-stop. People are starting to notice.”

  He blinks at me, looking flustered. “No. That can’t be true.”

  “Really?” I laugh. “You k
now she drinks too much. You guys fight about it constantly. Do you think she stops just because you take off for China?”

  His face hardens. “I have to travel for work.”

  “I know. Although, I have to wonder if there isn’t some other reason you’re never home.”

  His face flushes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “For all I know you have a second family in China.” I don’t really believe that. Dad seems to love Mom, but he’s just driven to work. He’s always been like that. “Or you just don’t like being around us.”

  “Excuse me?” he growls.

  “I can’t stand by and not say anything anymore.” I hadn’t intended to get so worked up. Maybe it’s the stress of being shunned by The Elites, and my confused feelings for Charity adding to my anger about Mom. Whatever the reason, I’m having trouble staying calm. “Mom’s too important to me, to stay quiet any longer.” I swallow because he looks furious. “Your ideas are antiquated. No one cares if Mom works. You’re destroying her by being selfish.”

  He strides toward me, grabbing my arm. “That’s enough. I love your mother, and I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

  Even though I’m scared, I snap, “Then wake up! I don’t want to find her at the bottom of the stairs dead because you have too much pride.” My face twitches with anger, and I yank my arm free. “Stop being so goddamned selfish, Dad.” My voice breaks on the last word.

  I almost expect him to slap me. He looks angry enough to do it. His face is purple red, his eyes glittering with rage. We stare at each other for what feels like an hour, and then he slumps and turns his back on me. When he speaks he only says one word, and his voice wobbles. “Fine.”

  I hesitate, wondering if I heard him correctly. “Fine? You mean you’ll let her work?”

  He still has his back to me, but he wipes at his eyes. “Yes. Whatever. I’m sick of being the bad guy in this scenario. If she needs to work so bad, I’m tired of fighting about it.”

  “That… that’s great.” I can’t believe he’s changed his mind. I don’t remember Dad ever changing his mind about almost anything. He’s one of those people who always think they’re right.

  When he pivots, he jabs his finger at me. His eyes are red rimmed, and his voice hard. “Don’t you ever fucking imply I don’t love your mother. I’d do anything for her. I’d do anything for this family.”

  “Okay.”

  “You people don’t understand the pressure I’m under. You think I like working all the time?” His voice is shaking now. “You don’t think I’d like to take more time off?”

  Frankly, no. I didn’t think he wanted more time off. But I don’t say that, I just watch him, not sure what to say.

  “My position is constantly in danger. I have young punks coming at me every day trying to get my job. If I don’t work harder than everybody else, this could all go away tomorrow.” He waves wildly at the room. “All of it.”

  I swallow, feeling uneasy at what he’s saying. “I didn’t know you were worried about your job.”

  “Of course I’m worried,” he mutters. “Damn twenty-year-olds are breathing down my neck all the time.”

  Dad isn’t a man who shows weakness. I can count on one hand the number of times my dad seemed unsure of something. But it’s obvious he’s feeling enormous pressure at work, and I was completely unaware of that. “Does Mom know you’re this stressed about work?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t want to concern her with this shit.” He moves to sit at the kitchen table. Raking a hand through his gray hair, he exhales. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. You’re just worried about your mom.”

  “It… it’s okay.” We never talk like this. He’s being so open with me, it’s a little unsettling. My dad is a rock. He’s a fucking granite mountain. I’m not sure what to make of this man in front of me.

  “Truth is, I knew something was wrong with Olivia. I just didn’t want to think about it. I preferred to think her drinking was no big thing.”

  “It… it’s out of control. Or at least, it was before she fell. She’s trying to control it now.”

  “Is she?” He looks hopeful.

  “Yeah.” I touch his shoulder. “She’ll be so happy about working again.”

  “That’s good.” After a few minutes, he clears his throat and sits up straighter. “I exaggerated my issues at work.” His face is emotionless, and he avoids my gaze. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

  I’m pretty sure he’s lying. A ripple of fear goes through me that he might lose his job. If he did, what the hell would happen to us? I’ve become very accustomed to never worrying about money. I can’t even conceive of ending up poor.

  Maybe end up living in that shitty trailer park?

  I shiver at the thought of that. It would be pretty ironic if after all the shade I threw at Charity, she ends up filthy rich and I end up on welfare. God, she’d have a good laugh. Thinking of her reminds me I’m supposed to try and meet up with her tonight. Do I have the stomach for my little blackmail plan right now? She’s going to be furious when I threaten her brother. I don’t blame her. What I’m planning is really a low blow.

  Dad stands. “I’m going to go to bed early. I’m still on Chinese time.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” I frown. I hate how demoralized he looks. “It’ll be okay, Dad. No matter what, we’ll all be fine.” I have no idea if that’s true. But I hate seeing my dad like this.

  He gives me a weak smile. “I must have really put the fear of God in you, if you’re feeling the need to comfort me.”

  I shrug. “I’ve never seen you that upset.”

  He blows out a long, weary breath. “To be fair, I just flew almost sixteen hours to get here. I’m beat.”

  “Right.”

  He moves to the door, and pauses. “Even if I did get canned, the severance package would be an obscene amount of money. We have assets up the wazoo, and a huge savings account. There’s absolutely no way you’d end up in the poor house, so don’t lose any beauty sleep over what I said.”

  I laugh. “Okay.” I’m relieved at his words. He really had scared me.

  He leaves the room, and I grab another string cheese. When I’m sure he’s gone to bed, I also have some tequila. I need it if I’m going to blackmail Charity tonight. She’s a force to be reckoned with when I’m not threatening her little brother. A shiver goes through me and I pull out my phone to text her.

  Hey, we need to meet.

  She doesn’t respond immediately, but after a few minutes I see the little bouncing balls indicating she’s typing. Why?

  I’ll tell you when I see you.

  Another pause, then, This isn’t a booty call, right?

  I can’t help but laugh. No.

  Promise Sophia won’t be there waiting to murder me?

  It’ll just be me.

  Can I trust you?

  That’s a hard one to answer. About Sophia, yes.

  I have a shit load of homework. Can this wait?

  If I’m successful in getting her to switch schools, her homework won’t matter. But I can’t exactly tell her that. It can’t wait.

  Mom and Fred aren’t home. We have to meet somewhere close, so I can ride my bike.

  I’ll pick you up.

  No. I want to ride my bike.

  Whatever. If the stupid bitch wants to ride her bike at night that’s not my problem. Although it irks me she seems to have some issue with me driving her anywhere. I’m a good driver. Never even got a ticket.

  Why am I obsessing about this? Obviously it’s best if I don’t pick her up. Once I tell her what I have planned for her brother, she’s going to want to rip my throat out. Driving her home would be beyond awkward.

  When and where? She asks.

  Outlaw Cove. 9 o’clock.

  See you there. You better not be lying about Sophia.

  I’m not.

  Little does she know, Sophia is the least of her worries.

  Chapter Eight

 
Charity

  The roads are creepily dark and deserted at this time of night. As I near Outlaw Cove, I have to wonder why I let Mason talk me into meeting him. He barely had to even convince me. The minute I saw his name on my phone, my pulse skipped into high gear. But that reaction is dumb because we aren’t dating. We’re enemies. We’re out to destroy each other, so getting excited when he texts is ridiculous.

  I’m out of breath by the time I reach the parking lot of Outlaw Cove. I need to exercise more. I’m out of shape. There are picnic benches and grills for public use a few feet away, and I lean my bike against one of the long tables. I sit, wipe sweat from my face, and glance around the deserted park. Hopefully there’s no rapists or murderers lurking in the bushes. This is a really dumb idea.

  A vehicle pulls into the parking lot, and I recognize Mason’s truck. My heart picks up speed again as he climbs from his pickup. I brought his hoodie, so I could return it, and I grab it off the back of my bike. As he nears, I hold it out to him.

  “Thanks for the loan.” I say brightly, hoping he can’t see how nervous he makes me. “I washed it.”

  He frowns, taking the hoodie. “I told you to keep it.”

  “Why would I?” I frown. “It’s yours.”

  He seems almost offended, which makes no sense. “Whatever.” He tosses it on top of the picnic table. So much for bothering to wash it. “You know, riding around at night on a bike isn’t the smartest idea.”

  I scowl. “It wasn’t my idea to meet up tonight. You said whatever you have to tell me couldn’t wait.”

  “Yeah.” He avoids my gaze. “It can’t.”

  He looks stressed, which gives me an uneasy feeling. “Is everything okay with your mom?”

  He looks surprised at the question. “My mom?”

  “Yeah. Is she doing better?”

  His face flinches. “She’s fine.”

  “Oh, good.” I sigh. “You just look really tense.”

  He rakes a hand over his hair. “My dad came home early. We had a fight.”