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

by Amy Brown

  I cringe when I remember telling him he could fuck me without a condom. That was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever said in my life. How could I have put sexual pleasure above common sense like that? I’m never drinking again. If that’s the kind of mindless decisions I make when I’m drunk, then I need to avoid alcohol the rest of my days.

  Thank God he had self-control. As selfish as Mason is, I’m still shocked he turned down my reckless offer. Of course, even that decision was probably about him, not me. He didn’t want to accidentally get me pregnant, it had nothing to do with caring about me. I won’t fool myself into thinking that.

  My sleep is restless, and when I arrive at school the next day, I’m still tired. Paula is beaming, and Gregory too. I’m so happy they’re finally figuring things out, even if my romantic life is in shambles. They’re both such great people, they deserve happiness.

  The idea of facing Mason during first period is daunting. I tell myself it’s no big deal, and that we’ve been down this awkward road a million times together. I’m surprised to feel a sense of letdown, when I walk in, he’s not there. Frowning, I take my seat. Where could he be? I assume he got home safely last night, although I have no proof of that. He was drunk, just like me. Maybe he got a DUI. Maybe he drove off the road, and is in the hospital. Or maybe he drove off the road and died. My mind swirls with all sorts of dire scenarios, and sweat breaks out on my upper lip.

  As much as I loathe Mason, the idea of him dying is powerfully unsettling. I find myself watching the door, praying he walks in. But he doesn’t walk through the door, and I begin to truly worry. I can’t concentrate on Mrs. Dunbar’s lecture, all I can do is stare at the door, willing Mason to walk through it.

  But he never comes to class.

  I go through my day, consumed by thoughts of Mason. He’s not at lunch either, and I guess I don’t hide my concern well because Paula notices.

  She frowns at me and says, “Everything okay?”

  “Of course,” I lie. I can’t tell her my concerns for Mason because she has no idea he showed up at the party last night. She probably wouldn’t care anyway. She hates him, and would probably be glad if something bad happened to him.

  She studies me. “Patrick was very taken with you. He told Gregory so.”

  “Oh, really?” I smile, keeping my eyes down. “He seemed nice.”

  “He’s a great guy. He used to go to Longhorn, but he transferred to Pine View High his sophomore year.”

  “Why?”

  “He didn’t like the vibe here.” She gives me a meaningful look.

  “You mean he didn’t like being under the thumb of The Elites?” Patrick is even smarter than I thought.

  “Bingo. He has a very strong sense of what’s right and what’s wrong.”

  “That’s admirable.”

  “I agree. He’s very mature.” She purses her lips. “Did you know he’s one year behind us?”

  “Oh.” I frown. “I assumed he was in the same grade as us.”

  “Nope. He’s a Junior.”

  Gregory leans over. “Are you guys talking about Patrick?”

  My face warms. “How did you know?”

  He shrugs. “I could see you two had a connection last night.”

  My face gets hotter because I can just imagine what all of them would think of me if they had seen me and Mason in the gazebo. “He’s too nice for me,” I say stiffly.

  “No way.” Paula laughs.

  Gregory cocks his head, his expression odd. “Why would you think that, Charity?”

  I shrug, not about to come clean. “How did he know who I am? If he doesn’t go to our school, how come he immediately recognized me?”

  “Lots of kids at Pine View know about you. Plenty of them transferred out of here because of the bullying,” Lisa chimes in. “You’ve dealt a serious blow to The Elites. That shit gets around.”

  “I’ve just made a few speeches.”

  “You single handedly brought down Mason, and you inspire us to keep fighting. That’s golden.” Lisa takes a bite of her sandwich. “It’s easy to fall back into old patterns. But you remind us that if we want to be free of The Elites, it’s up to us to keep them on the run. You don’t take their shit, and neither should we.”

  “I’ve taken plenty of their shit,” I say softly. “But what Mason tried to do to me, what he’s done to other girls, it crossed the line.”

  “Exactly. And you got him first.” Lisa beams. “That’s why you’re our hero.”

  “I’m no hero.”

  Paula leans toward me, clasping her hands, and batting her lashes. “You’ll always be our hero, Charity.”

  I laugh, but inwardly worry what will happen when I leave. I’m heartbroken at the thought of letting Paula and the others down. Paula will be hurt when I transfer out of here. I want to tell her what’s happening, so she won’t be blindsided, but something keeps me from doing it. I guess I’m in denial. I’m praying something will happen at the last minute to thwart Mason’s blackmail scheme.

  I glance over at The Elite’s table, remembering my conversation with Jeremy last night. He’s such an arrogant prick. Like they all are. They actually believe they’re entitled to lord it over us. Sophia meets my gaze and she flips me off. I return the bird, and Scott chuckles.

  “We can’t let them win,” I say, glaring at Sophia. “No matter what happens, don’t let them regain control.”

  Scott unwraps a candy bar, watching me. “You sound like you’re making a dying wish.”

  “If Sophia had her way, Charity would be dead.” Lisa grins.

  Scott’s lips twitch, but then he turns his attention back on me. “You seem down today, everything okay with you?”

  I avoid his gaze, kicking myself for not being a better actress. “I’m tired. I shouldn’t go to parties on a school night.”

  “You sound like a senior citizen.” Paul laughs, shaking his head.

  “Everybody needs sleep. You don’t have to be old to need sleep.” I finish off my Coke.

  “True.” Paul shrugs.

  “I’m functioning just fine, and I didn’t get to bed till 5 a.m. cleaning up after all you slobs finally left.” Gregory’s grin softens his words.

  “I would have stayed to help clean up, but Mom wanted us home by 11:30. She was pissed I was late as it was.” Paula winces. “I’m lucky she didn’t ground me.”

  Gregory meets her apologetic gaze. “I’m exaggerating. I had a few kids who helped. I know the score. You throw a party, you’re going to get no sleep, and you’ll have to clean up.” He gives Paula a warm smile. “It was more than worth it.”

  “Yeah.” She nods.

  I laugh. “Get a room you two.”

  Paula punches my arm gently. “No fair using my line against me.”

  The bell rings, ending lunch, and with a groan, we clean up our trash and head to class. I don’t see Mason anywhere on campus the entire day. But I’m tired of worrying about him. Regardless of a bad feeling that has hovered in the pit of my stomach all day, there’s no reason to think anything bad happened. Mason’s a spoiled rich kid, he probably cuts school when he feels like it. Daddy’s money will make his future bright, even if his grades suck.

  Once my final class ends, I make my way to the parking lot, to wait for Mom to pick me up. Mrs. Dunbar walks past looking distracted, and at first, I don’t think she recognizes me. Then she stops, and approaches.

  “Hello, Charity.” She sets her big leather suitcase on the ground. “I’m so glad I ran across you. I’m wondering, would you do me a huge favor?”

  “Oh, um… what kind of favor?”

  She glances at her watch, looking uneasy. “Would you mind delivering Mason’s homework to him?”

  Displeasure rockets through me. “What?” I guess he’s not dead if he needs his homework.

  She tugs out a packet of papers. “He needs to go over this new stuff. The test is Monday, but Mason was out sick today. I was going to drop these off myself, but
my babysitter just called, and she had to take my son to the ER. He has a fever of 102.”

  I’m sorry about her son, but I simply blink at her in confusion. “But… why me?”

  “Because I’m in a huge hurry, and, well, to be frank, you owe him.”

  “I do?” I frown. “Why?”

  She wrinkles her brow. “Because he helped you when you needed it, remember? You didn’t have your book, and he studied with you. I know you two have butted heads lately, but he gave up a lot of his free time to help you.”

  She obviously has no idea he was only doing that to spin his evil web around me. I can’t exactly explain any of what has happened to her either. “There must be someone else. Maybe one of his friends?”

  “I’m sure they’ve all left for the day. Not to mention, I don’t have time to try and hunt them down. Not when you’re standing right here.” Mrs. Dunbar presses her lips together. “I’m surprised at you, Charity. You’re certainly not living up to your name.”

  My cheeks warm, and I hold out my hand. “Fine. I guess I can drop these off.”

  Her relief is obvious, and she slumps. “Oh, thank you, dear.” She gives another worried glance at her watch. “Let him know the exam is Monday, and there are no makeup tests.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  She practically runs to her car, and my mom pulls up to the curb at the same time. I climb in the red Mercedes, feeling annoyed. The last thing in the world I want to do is go to Mason’s house.

  “How was school?” Mom asks, as she pulls out of the parking lot.

  “Boring. Long. Tortuous.” I sigh. “We need to make a detour before we go home.”

  “We do?” She glances over at me.

  “Mrs. Dunbar asked me to drop this homework off to Mason. He wasn’t at school today, and we have a test Monday.”

  Mom nods. “Okay. No problem.” I don’t need to give her directions because she knows the way to Mason’s house, since I studied there in the past. Those days seem so long ago, and I still remember the haze of happiness I was in, thinking Mason really liked me. But the entire time he was just setting me up.

  Asshole.

  Of all the people in the world to do him a favor, I’m the last one who should be asked. I slap the packet of papers against my leg, dreading seeing Mason. When we pull up in front of his big house, I climb out of the car on shaky legs. Maybe I can just hand the papers to the housekeeper, Amanda, when she opens the door. I stomp up the steps, and I ring the bell. I hear it echo through the house, but no one comes to the door. I ring it a few more times, giving Mom an apologetic look.

  Eventually, I hear the lock turn, and the door swings wide. It’s not Amanda who answers, it’s Mason. But he looks awful. There’s bruising along his cheek, his bottom lip is swollen, and one eye is puffy and almost shut. He sways as he stares at me.

  “Charity?” He looks surprised to see me on his doorstep. His face is beaded with sweat, and his lips are dry. “Why are you here?” He looks confused.

  I’m so taken aback by his thrashed appearance, I forget why I’m here. “What happened to your face?” He argues with his dad sometimes, did his dad do this to him?

  He touches his face, wincing. “Oh, uh… a couple of guys jumped me at Gregory’s party.”

  Guilt pulses through me because he was only there to see me. I didn’t ask him to come, so I don’t need to feel responsible, but looking at his bruised face, it’s hard not to feel something. “Why would they attack you?”

  “You know why.” His one good eye has a vaguely accusing glint.

  “You never should have gone there. I certainly didn’t want you there.”

  He exhales, looking weary. “Did you come over just to tell me that?”

  My face warms, and I hold out the packet of homework. “Mrs. Dunbar wanted me to drop your homework off.”

  “Mrs. Dunbar?” He blinks at me. “She’s my teacher.”

  I frown. “Yeah. I know.”

  He leans on the door, and for a minute, I think he’s going to pass out. He’s trembling, and it’s obvious he’s in bad shape. “It’s so hot today.”

  It’s actually not that hot. It’s a beautiful day, hovering in the mid 70’s. “Is your mom home? Maybe you should be in bed.” I don’t want to be concerned about him, but if he doesn’t puke on my shoes any second, I’ll be surprised.

  His eyes glitter as he stares at me. “I’m alone at the moment. It’s Amanda’s day off, and Mom is out. She’ll be back tonight.”

  “Did you get your head checked out? You might have a concussion.” I can’t believe someone beat him up at Gregory’s party, and I had no idea. How can something like that happen, and we were all oblivious? Was I the only one who didn’t know? Did Gregory and Paula know, but just not care because it’s Mason?

  “I don’t want to see a doctor.”

  “That’s not smart.”

  “Probably not.” He swallows hard. “Just one of many stupid decisions I’ve made lately.”

  I ignore his comment. “You should probably be in bed.”

  “That’s where I was when you rang the doorbell.” He sighs. “I don’t feel so good. I think I need to sit down.”

  He looks like he’s about to fall over, so I step forward, and grab his arm. He leans on me, and his breath is hot on the top of my head. “You smell good,” he murmurs. “You always smell good.”

  “Thanks?” I glance over my shoulder at mom, and she gets out of the car. As she approaches, Mason lifts his head.

  “Hey, Gloria. How are you?” he asks softly.

  Mom frowns. “Fine, honey. You look horrible.”

  “My head is killing me.”

  “I think we should get him to bed before he falls over,” I mutter, grunting under his weight. Maybe Mason is my arch enemy, but at the moment, he’s just a person who needs help.

  “Good idea.” Mom nods. “You take one arm and I’ll take the other.”

  Between the two of us, we manage to walk Mason across the marble foyer, and up the long staircase. He’s very compliant, which is a relief. It would be a whole other story if he insisted he didn’t need to go to bed. Once we get to his room, I push the door open with my shoulder, and we half walk, half drag him to the big bed. He falls face first, and slowly rolls onto his back, groaning.

  Me and Mom are breathing hard, and I stand with my hands on my hips. It’s painful being in his room. His woodsy cologne hangs in the air, and brings back too many memories that I’d rather forget. It’s still hard to reconcile it had all just been a game to him.

  “Have you taken any ibuprofen or anything, Mason?” Mom asks.

  He doesn’t answer. His eyes are closed, and his stomach falls and rises quickly. I perch on the edge of the bed, and press my palm to his forehead.

  “Your hand feels so cool,” he murmurs.

  “I’m just checking if you have a fever.”

  He wrinkles his brow. “From a concussion?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.”

  He opens his eyes, and they’re so green it takes my breath away. Even with his face bruised and swollen, he makes my pulse speed up. “Could I trouble you for some ice? My face hurts.”

  “Do you have an ice pack in the house?” Mom asks.

  “Probably. I usually just use a sock.”

  I give a grudging laugh. “You’re filthy rich, but you use a sock as an ice pack?”

  “It works,” he says softly, sounding sleepy.

  “When will your mom be home?” Mom asks.

  “10 o’clock-ish?” He frowns. “I think.”

  “Does she know you got beat up?” I can’t imagine his mom just taking off, knowing he’s in this bad of shape. She seemed far too doting not to care about her only son.

  He opens his eyes, looking alarmed. “I don’t want her to know what happened. Promise you won’t tell her the truth.”

  I raise my brows. “Mason, she’ll notice your face.”

  “I plan on telling her I got
mugged at the gas station.” He grips my arm, digging his fingers into my skin. “Please don’t tell her what really happened.”

  “Ouch.” I pull my arm from his grip, rubbing my skin.

  “Sorry.” He grimaces. “But I don’t want anybody to know the truth.”

  “What is the truth?” Mom looks confused, and worried. I’m sure her maternal instincts are in overdrive as she stares down at Mason. She likes him, and I can feel she’s concerned for him.

  “He got jumped at a party.” I haven’t told mom any of the stuff that’s going on with The Elites. It’s way too complicated, and she’d just worry. Maybe I wouldn’t tell her anyway because for some reason we kids don’t share this kind of stuff with grownups. If we do, parents try to fix things, and they get really stressed. Sometimes it’s best just to keep secrets, and try to handle it ourselves.

  She touches her throat. “Oh, goodness. Did you call the police?”

  Mason doesn’t respond, so I say, “He said he didn’t get a good look at the guys.” I don’t love lying to Mom, but it’s obvious Mason doesn’t want to report what happened.

  “It’s so rare to have that kind of trouble in Blue Horn.” Mom shifts uneasily. “I don’t like the idea of you going out at night, Charity. Not if this sort of thing is happening.”

  Great. Now, just because Mason is a liar, I’m going to be stuck at home all the time because Mom thinks there’s a crime wave happening? “I’m sure it’s an isolated incident,” I say.

  Brought about by the fact that Mason is a colossal asshole.

  Mason points a finger at the air. “Yes. It’s an isolated incident. Good one, Charity.”

  I suppress my groan. He isn’t helping.

  Fortunately, all Mom says is, “I’ll go get you some ice for your head.” She leaves the room.

  When I turn back to Mason, he’s watching me. Whether I like it or not, his bruised and beaten face makes my heart hurt. We hold each other’s gaze, and I take his hand. His fingers curl around mine, and he sighs.