by J Bree
Harley gives me a nod and turns back to his friends. “We need to fix this and we need to do it now. Ideas?”
There’s a stunned silence and then, surprisingly, Blaise pipes up, “The bet says proof has to be either a photo or a video. We get our hands on it and prove it’s a fake. No one wants Lance to get the money so it’ll be an easy sell if we can find something.”
Ash snorts derisively, his voice a twisted snarl, “How exactly would that be good proof if no one here has fucked the Mounty before? Who could vouch it’s her?”
“Besides the obvious that her face would have to be in it? The photos last year,” says Harley.
I sit up sharply. The photos from my fucked up walk of shame last year. After I’d had my clothes stolen while showering I’d been made to walk back to my room naked by Harlow, who had also taken photos and shared them around. Fucking bitch. I want to go back to her room and slit her throat.
“We need to get the photos and pray. Lance is taking photography and advanced digital design. I’m sure he’s got the fake photos damn near perfect,” I say, my voice stronger now. I rub my face with shaking hands and consider texting Diarmuid for a hit. Would Avery spot me the fee? I glance at her and the thunder on her face tells me she would pay the son of a bitch ten times over.
“Give me twenty minutes. I know who’ll have them,” Blaise says and he ducks out of the room.
I stay on the floor until Avery finally drags me up and pushes me into the shower. I try to tell her I’d just had one but she starts on with her ‘hot water heals all’ philosophy and I just give in. I throw my pajamas on and when I walk back out I don’t even care that I’m wearing my Vanth shirt. Avery hands me a bowl of ice cream and I slouch on the couch to eat it. Avery sits with me and chews on her lips as she scrolls aimlessly on her phone. Ash and Harley sit at the bench and talk quietly together, their eyes on me more often than not. I’m scrubbing the bowl clean in the sink by the time the door opens again and Blaise is back.
He startles a little at my shirt then ushers us all to sit at the bench. He hands out a pile of photos so we’re each holding a copy of the three photos Lance has produced as his proof. I can’t look down at them. Not until I’m able to do it with a clinical eye. Instead, I watch Avery as she begins to sift through them next to me.
“Fuck, Avery, don’t look at them,” snaps Ash as he tries to pry them out of her hands. She rolls her eyes and turns away from him.
“I’ve seen nudes before Ash. I’m not happy about being forced to look at that little fuck’s dick but I’m the only person here that’s seen Lips naked besides Lips herself so I’m the best person to be looking.”
Blaise’s eyes flash and he purses his lips like he’s trying to seal them shut. Harley notices and punches him in the arm but he only shrugs with a wry grin. “I’m not even sorry, I can’t help it.”
Eh? “Can’t help what?”
Avery answers as she holds one of the photos so close to her face that she must be searching it pixel but pixel for inaccuracy. “He’s being gross about how I’ve seen you naked. Boys always are.” Then she grins at Blaise and swipes her tongue over her bottom lip. “I’ve seen her naked, dripping wet in the shower, in every piece of skimpy lace Ash picked out for her, and all sweaty and panting after a long, hard workout. Oh, I’ve also seen her in yoga poses that would make a monk weep.”
I swear I hear all three of them gulp. Huh.
Ash clears his throat. “How exactly does this relate to what we’re doing?”
Harley butts in before Avery can answer. “So, about this sex ban the Jackal has you on. Is that the real reason you won’t fuck a Hannaford guy?”
I grit my teeth and try to force myself to look down at the photos while I’m distracted by the conversation. Nope. Can’t do it. “Yes. If there’s a chance it could get back to him that I’m with someone then I can’t do it. Hannaford is a pit of snakes and no one gets laid here without the entire school hearing about it. Just not worth the risk.”
Avery chuckles under her breath. “Besides, the majority of males at this school don’t know how to make it good for girls. Why risk torture and death if you’re not even going to come?”
I snort with unexpected laughter at her. “Better off doing it myself, right?”
Avery cackles and I glance up again to find three sets of smoldering eyes glaring at me with a challenge. A blush starts creeping along my cheeks and I’m struck for the first time with the realization that I’ve kissed all three of them. Sweet Lord. Not only that, each kiss had been so fucking hot I had no reason to doubt their…skills.
I hold my hands up in a placating gesture. “Woah, settle down. I’m sure you guys are…great or whatever. You must be if Annabelle is mourning your dicks like she’s missed out on the second coming of Christ.”
“She’s mourning the potential for a wealthy husband not their dicks,” murmurs Avery, in no way helping me with calming them the fuck down. I shrug and finally force my eyes down onto the photos in front of me.
I feel lightheaded.
Avery yells, startling us all, “Ha! There! Lips, we’ve got him.”
My gaze stays glued on the first photo. It’s so fucking disturbing to see your own face on a body that clearly isn’t yours. Yeah, he Photoshopped my scars on it but the knees are wrong. The fingers are longer than mine and I’ve never managed to get my nails to that length. The tits are way bigger and the nipples are much darker than mine are. I really, really don’t want to have to flash my nipples to get out of this.
I finally look over to the one Avery is waving at me and that photo is even more obscene. Lance has the girl flipped over and is doing her from behind. He’s leaning back and the photo has been taken with a nice close up of his dick in her, the fleshy globes of her ass spread by his hand. I immediately see what Avery is talking about.
“Snap, motherfucker,” I mutter and Avery tucks her arm into mine.
“Let’s go end that Mounty fuck.”
Harley texts the bet keeper, some senior named Thomas Darcy, to tell him to hold payment until the next day so I don’t have to charge into the boys’ dorms at midnight in my booty shorts to kill Lance. He arranges to meet after classes in the chapel. At this point, I never want to step foot in that fucking room again but I grin and bear it. I messaged the Jackal last night to cover my ass and buy time, I told him about the fake photos and my plan to deal with Lance.
Send me the photos. I’ll deal with him.
He wants proof they’re not real. I text him and tell him I can handle it on my own but I get the digital copy from Blaise and send it to him. He has people on his payroll that can confirm they’re a Photoshop. Now Lance owes me a life-debt. The little fuck.
Avery marches into the chapel like she’s a general in a war and she’s thirsty for they’re blood. I trail behind her and the guys are grumbling together behind me. I had woken up with my period and am now bloated and moody as fuck. I’ve already snapped at Harley during classes so I think he’s warned the other two away from me. Lord help Lance if he is a mouthy dick to me today.
Lance is already there, laughing and joking with Darcy, and when I walk in he bites his lip and makes a big show of leering at my body like he knows what’s hiding underneath my clothes. My hands curl into fists and I take a second to fantasize about feeling the bones in his cheek break when I punch him. Harley cracks his knuckles behind me.
Darcy saunters over to us and smirks despite the thunderous look on my face.
“You can’t be pissy just because you finally caved, Mounty. You still have the moral high ground, you fucked one of your own.” Every word out of Darcy’s mouth makes me want to grab him by the balls and twist until they pop.
“It’s a decent Photoshop, I’ll give the kid that, but he’s picked the wrong position.”
Darcy laughs and Lance, the little fuck, smirks at me. I manage to keep my breathing nice and even, and I hold my composure. Harley doesn’t, Blaise has to body check him to keep him
from throttling the Mounty boy.
“You’re claiming it’s a fake because you don’t fuck doggy style? That’s not good enough, babe.”
Rage. Blackout.
I regain control of my body to find myself kneeling on Darcy’s not-so-smug-anymore body, one leg on his chest and the other cutting off his airway. I really enjoy the terrified look in his eyes as I press in close to him so I can whisper to him. “Don’t you ever call me babe again. I’ll gut you for that alone. Now, the photo shows the chick’s entire lower back. I’m willing to show you mine, here and now, and you’ll fucking know that it’s not me getting reamed. The Mounty faked them.”
Darcy nods his head a fraction and I climb off him. Lance is staring at me in horror, seeing for himself just how much he’s underestimated me, and I look back at him like he’s a steaming pile of shit. A spade’s a spade.
Avery slaps a blown up version of Lance’s fake-ass photo down onto the table in front of Darcy. He doesn’t look her in the eye at all, just nods along while he tries to suck deep lungfuls of air through his damaged throat. I shrug off my jacket, handing it to Avery, and then pull my crisp white shirt out from where it’s tucked neatly into my skirt. I turn on my heel to face the guys and show off my lower back to Darcy and Lance instead.
“What the fuck happened to you?” hisses Darcy and my face heats up. I shove the shirt back down and then spin back to him.
“There’s your fucking proof. Are you satisfied?” I snap. Darcy stares at me for a second and then with a glance at the guys behind me he nods and shoots a glare at Lance, who’s backing away from us all like he can get away. Fat chance, dickhead.
“No hard feelings, Mounty. I’m still up for it if you want to end this thing for real,” drawls Darcy and I stomp out of the room, livid at this whole miserable day.
I need alcohol, a nap, a shower, a week away from my life, and a whole list of other shit I’ll never get.
Avery skips to catch up with me and hooks her arm in mine. “I told the guys to destroy him. I’ll get a video of it if you want to enjoy it later.”
I force a laugh and the side-eye she gives me says she sees right through me.
“Let’s eat a whole tub of ice cream and plot world domination for a few hours. That always cheers you up.”
“I need all of the chocolate in this damn building, Avery.”
She side-eyes me again and then pets my arm in a way that should have been condescending but instead is affectionate. “I hear drinking the blood of your enemies helps with PMS. I’ll ask Ash to bring us a gallon.”
I’m wrapped up in bed with a heating pad, Blaise’s iPod, and a half-eaten tub of ice cream when Avery opens the door to Harley. He glances over to me as he talks to her but the music in my ears drowns him out and I let my eyes close. This week’s playlist makes my heart ache in the best/worst way, all dark and sweet with longing. I’d started putting together a list of songs to give back to him and I knew my list was an answer to his. Whoever it is that Harley is hoping to date, she has done a number on Blaise. I hate her intensely. I keep trying to imagine what she looks like. She must be stunning to have caught both their eyes.
I’m startled out of my thoughts by my bed dipping as Harley sits. I blush and wince as I sit up, the pain in my abdomen intensifying. I pull out my earphones and glance over to where Avery is perched on her bed, watching us both closely.
“What? What’s happened?” I croak.
Harley holds an envelope out to me and inside I find dozens of photos. Every single one is of me. They’ve been taken throughout the day at Hannaford and there’s even a few from the trip to Haven I took with Avery. Lance, because I’m sure it’s the work of that little fuck, has been stalking me for months. I feel sick.
“Ash and Morrison are trashing his room as we speak and looking for anything else he might have. He stays on the planner,” Harley says and I glance back up at his fiercely beautiful face. He’s hesitating. I look over at Avery.
“Harley found your underwear on him when he beat him. He was carrying it around like some sick pervert. He said he took it as extra proof for the bet but we all know there has been dozens of pairs taken.”
Holy shit.
The creepy little fuck.
Seriously, am I some sort of magnet to disgusting rapists and stalkers?! I give myself three seconds of shock and then I get angry. I get fucking livid. I’m not a victim, I’m not some helpless girl he can covet and jerk off to.
I’m the fucking Wolf of Mounts Bay and I’m going to end him.
Harley smirks at me when he sees the fire that’s been lit behind my eyes. He watches me the same as he did when I attacked Harlow, like he’s standing witness to the dark stain inside me and admiring it.
“Give me two days to sort my uterus out and then I’ll deal with him myself.”
He snorts with laughter but Avery’s eyes narrow. “I can hand all of this over to the school board and get him expelled, you don’t have to be involved in this.”
I don’t need her concern, I’m not afraid of that pathetic piece of shit. I shake my head. “This sort of disrespect needs to be punished, Aves.”
She picks up on my wording and gives me a curt nod. He’s from the Bay and I can’t send him home without giving him a message. Harley grabs the photos back and shoves them into Avery’s drawer. I slump back and seethe.
I don’t want to call the Jackal. I’m still trying to distance myself from him so he doesn’t have the chance to manipulate me. I could call him right now and Lance would be dead by sunrise. I could kill him myself but cleanup would be near impossible without Avery pulling some serious strings. Besides, I don’t want him dead. I want him afraid. I want him watching every shadow for the rest of his life and wondering if it’s me come to kill him. Well, that settles it.
I have a plan.
I slip my earphones back into my ears and fall asleep.
When I wake up in the early hours of the morning to pee I find Harley sleeping on the floor between the two King Cal’s on the pullout. Ash is tucked up in Avery’s bed, frowning even in his sleep, and Blaise is tangled up in a blanket on the couch. I stare around at them before my bladder forces me to move.
They’re gone before I wake in the morning.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harley refuses to let me out of his sight. He tells Avery that he’s going to sleep on the roll out bed in our room until Lance has been dealt with. I immediately make the call that Blaise sleeping in our room for three nights was torturous enough and I’ll never willingly put myself through that again. Blaise at least made jokes and played his guitar for me, Harley would sit and stare at me for hours trying to read the secrets written under my skin. So I go with my gut and I throw caution into the wind for the day.
The Jackal sends me a copy of the original photos and I gag when I realize what the Photoshop has covered. He also sends me through a little background information on Lance but it’s nothing Avery hasn’t dug up already. No, it’s the photo that tells me exactly what I need to know and drives home the last nail in Lance’s fucking coffin.
I’m careful about my planning because I need to get him alone. Avery shrugs and jots down a list of places to consider, and it only takes a quick glance to know where it has to take place. The photography classroom is the perfect place to have a little chat with my creepy fucking stalker. It’s where he’s been developing the photos he’s been taking of me and there’s a black light in the classroom for creating special effects in photos. Perfect.
The problem is Harley follows me down there when I check the space out. When I confront him over it at breakfast he doesn’t even pretend to look remorseful about messing with my plans.
“I’m not doubting you’re skilled with your knife, I’m just saying any guy at this school is twice as big as you and Lance is clearly fucking deranged.”
Ash glances between the two of us and then shrugs at his cousin. “She took down Rory. Don’t baby her like we do Avery, she doesn’t ne
ed it.”
Harley stares him down. “She had the element of surprise with Rory and he had his dick out. She’s inviting Lance somewhere and I doubt she’s going to get him in such a compromising position.”
I shudder and pretend to gag. “I’ve seen more of him then I ever wanted to. If it means that much to you then you can keep watch for me but you’re not coming into the classroom. I’ve got something very specific in mind for the little fuck.”
I’m leaning against a desk when Lance saunters in, though he’s clutching at his ribs I’m sure Harley broke for him. His jaw is mottled and bruised as well and his split lip looks pretty painful but it doesn’t seem to be affecting his mood. The smile is still a mile wide on his face and he gives me this stupid little wave. I just stare at him until he stands before me.
“Changed your mind? I’m still up for the real thing, Lips.”
I clasp my hands in front of me and take in every detail of his body, slowly dragging my eyes over him. He mistakes my interest, which is my exact intention, and he adjusts his pants suggestively.
“You ever fuck a member of the Twelve before, Lance?”
He blanches and stutters, “Wh-what?”
I lean forward. “I know you’re happy enough to fuck with a member of the Twelve but I don’t know if you’ve ever dropped your pants for one.”
He frowns and takes a faltering step away from me. I nod at him, slowly, humming under my breath.
“Listen Lance, you’ve got my attention. I’ve done my research and I know all about you now. I know where you live when you’re not here. I know you grew up in the ‘burbs, you have two loving parents and a little sister. I read your application for the scholarship. It was pretty decent, not as good as mine. I know your taste for girls runs on the damaged side. You want them broken so when you’re finished with them no one will believe them when they say nice guy Lance Michael Owens would ever stalk, beat, dehumanize, and rape a girl. I know that the money was a good incentive but that’s not why you wanted me. You thought I was just your type, a little foster girl with a tragic backstory. But Lance, I’m telling you now, you thought wrong.”