Charming Devils: A Bully/Revenge Reverse Harem Romance

by Katie May

  Chapter 31

  Cassian stops me before first hour. I can see him storming down the hall, his intent clear in every hard, taut muscle of his body. Pure, unrestrained anger emanates back at me from his dark gaze as he slams his hand against the locker over my head.

  “We need to talk,” he murmurs harshly. Mariabella, standing beside me, flashes me a worried look, but I smile to reassure her, as if I’m not going to be murdered today and have my body hidden in the bushes outside of school.

  Probably not.

  “I’ll be right back,” I assure my friend softly before following Cassian down the numerous hallways until we reach an empty classroom. The light is off when we enter, and that somehow makes everything seem even more eerie. At this early hour, the sun still has yet to rise, painting everything in shades of black and dark gray. A skeleton sits in the corner of the room with eggshell-colored bones and a creepy grin that causes goosebumps to skitter up my spine and both my arms.

  Cassian doesn’t bother to turn on the light as he begins to pace in front of the teacher’s desk.

  A sort of quietness fills the room that has every hair on my body standing on end. It’s that inevitable moment during a hunt, where the predator is stalking its prey through the forest’s underbrush. A knife in a killer’s hand, seconds before it plunges downwards and pierces your heart. It embodies nightmares and monsters and the things that go bump in the night.

  And this time, that “thing” is Cassian, and my terror is so quick and sudden that I feel ill.

  The silence implodes like a bomb detonating when the large man whirls on me, acid spewing from his eyes.

  “I know it was you!” he all but growls, his tone acerbic, almost bitter. “I know you turned in that fucking video!”

  I want to cower in submission, demand his forgiveness, but I lock those thoughts in a steel box and throw away the fucking key. I think a part of me will always be terrified of the Devils, always fear their retaliation and retribution. I know that they grew up, as have I, but the little girl inside of me keeps expecting them to cut off my hair or laugh at me or chase me through the streets at night. That fear lives in the pit of my stomach, mildly uncomfortable but no longer agonizingly painful.

  And at the same time, I want to hug him. Comfort him. Soothe away his fears as he leans on me for support. I want to kiss his soft lips and run my fingers over top of his buzzed black hair.

  I don’t have time to look at the plethora of emotions waging a way inside of me, not when Cassian looks seconds away from either ripping my head off…or kissing me senseless.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, but that’s not the right thing to say. If there’s something Cassian hates more than anything, it’s liars.

  As his eyes narrow into unforgiving slits, I feel myself drift away into another memory.

  “Not until you submit.” Lucas took a menacing step forward. “Not until you know that we don’t accept freaks in our town.”

  Cassian and Karsyn broke into laughter, while Elias merely looked annoyed. He rolled his violet-tinted eyes as he nodded towards the exit.

  “Can we go? I don’t want to stay in her presence longer than necessary.”

  His words felt like a dagger being embedded into my heart. I always knew that they hated me, but hearing their complete disdain spoken out loud was an entirely different matter.

  “You just want to finish your goddamn Die Hard movie,” Lucas responded dryly, and Elias flashed him a tight-lipped smile.

  “You know me too well, brother.”

  They continued bickering as they exited the locker room, but their words weren’t able to penetrate my brain. I could hear them, but I couldn’t understand what they were saying.

  How long were they going to keep me in here?

  I knew that Mom wouldn’t notice if I didn’t come home. She never did. I could be gone for weeks, and so long as it didn’t disrupt her routine, she wouldn’t bat an eye. Would I be here for hours? Days? Weeks?

  “Please,” I whimpered, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

  A muffled voice reached my ears, and I perked up, listening. “I forgot something. I’ll be right back.”

  The door to the locker room opened, and Cassian stepped inside, lips straightened into a grim line. He glanced around the congested, pungent-smelling space before shouting, “Found it!” I watched in rapt fascination as he stalked back outside…only this time, he didn’t shut the door behind him.

  Was it intentional? A mistake? Why did he tell the others he left something when he truly didn’t? Was it a trap? Did he plan to lie in wait with the others until I made my escape? Why did he leave the door open?

  Not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, I waited until I heard their van pull away before scrambling to my feet and running outside. The cool, bitter wind whipped at my hair as I ran and ran and ran, desperate to escape my demons, both literally and figuratively.

  The next day, the Devils gave Cassian hell for not locking the door behind him. Called him a fucktard and an idiot.

  But as they passed me in the hall, I could’ve sworn that he made eye contact with me and gave me a subtle nod, almost as if he had done it on purpose.

  Almost as if he was my guardian angel.

  I’m pulled out of my memories when Cassian takes a step closer, hands balled into fists and chest heaving with every ragged breath he takes.

  “You fucked up my life!” he bellows, before he seems to remember that we’re still at school and could be interrupted at any fucking moment. He glances at the closed classroom door, takes a deep breath, and says in a quieter voice, “She got fired.”

  “Good,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “She was a pervert and a fucking rapist. She deserved it.”

  “That may be, but I needed that A,” he snaps. “Without it, my GPA isn’t high enough to get into Juilliard. I’m just fucking lucky that I was still a minor during the majority of our interactions, so the DA is leaving my name out of it. She’s fucking going to jail, Peony.”

  “And do you care?” I inquire seriously, arching a white brow. At his flabbergasted expression, I continue on, “Do you care what happens to her? Do you have feelings for her?”

  Maybe I read the situation all wrong. Maybe he was a willing participant…though that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a student and she’s his teacher. That he was only seventeen when they first began hooking up, maybe even sixteen. That she was bribing him with better grades to get him on his knees before her. It’s all kinds of fucked up, and I don’t feel an ounce of guilt for bringing this injustice to light. I always knew I was vindictive, but I never suspected that my need for revenge would expand to include people other than myself.

  Cassian stares at me for a long, tense moment. He crosses his tree trunk arms over his chest, the muscles rippling with every breath he takes.

  “No,” he bites out at last. “I don’t have fucking feelings for that crazy bitch. I told you that already. I first had her as my teacher my junior year. When I started failing the class, she offered me a deal.”

  I don’t need to be a brain surgeon to know what, exactly, that deal entailed.

  “And you just took it?” I ask, struggling to hide my shock and horror.

  The look Cassian throws me is capable of freezing lava in a volcano. It’s a look I normally would have expected to see from Lucas, not Cassian. Not my fiery, passionate king.

  “Of course not. But then I realized that I needed that fucking A. Besides, it wasn’t like it was a horrible hardship. Mrs. Town was hot and had big tits,” he snaps scathingly. I can tell how hard he’s trying to act like it’s not a big deal, like he truly wanted it, but he flinches slightly. And I can just picture it now—a slightly younger Cassian desperate to get into his dream school and willing to do anything to make it happen. Including having sex with his older, married teacher.

  “I want to say I’m
sorry, but I’m not,” I confess slowly, trailing my fingers over the top of the wooden desk. “But I understand what you’re going through.”

  “You don’t have any fucking idea!” he hisses through clenched teeth. “No fucking idea.”

  “Some people abuse their power,” I continue on, ignoring his outburst. “They make you feel small and young and fucking weak.” Tears burn my retinas as my eyes follow the trail my fingers take. I lazily doodle circles into the tabletop to distract myself as the ghosts of my past finally catch up with me. “Sometimes, they offer to change your grades. And other times, they offer you protection from middle school bullies.”

  I turn towards him pointedly, and he staggers back a step as if my gaze is a gun and he’s just been shot. Horror blossoms on his face as he stares at me with dawning realization.

  “No,” he breathes.

  I shrug noncommittally, trying to act like I’m not flaying myself open, my guts dripping down my body and landing in a puddle at my feet.

  “Yes.” I shake my head vehemently. “I mean, no. I didn’t accept his offer.” Though that didn’t mean he didn’t try to force me to. “You remember Mr. Gurrel, right? The science teacher?”

  Every muscle in his face freezes as his hands clench even further. I can see the whites of his knuckles as his breaths saw in and out, the noise nearly deafening in the suddenly silent room.

  “I went to him for help,” I confess, my voice still a hushed whisper. “And he wanted something in return for it. Cassian, I fucking despise you, but I understand what you’re going through. I understand that you feel powerless and that you’re trying to justify it any and every way you can. I understand.”

  Like too much pressure being applied to a flimsy layer of ice, Cassian explodes. Cracks. Fucking shatters.

  He releases an agonized scream capable of being heard by God himself. He throws his head back, unclenches his fists, and roars. My stomach tightens and goosebumps race across my skin in response to the pained sound. I can hear his agony and anger, his fear and denial. All of it is as clear as it would’ve been if he had put words to his dissonant music.

  I ache to comfort him—not because I suddenly like him or anything, but because my pain recognizes his. My soul calls to his, a cacophony of noise disrupting the tranquility of this room. It’s almost as if we’re connected, as if our shared traumas have brought us together in a way nothing else can.

  But maybe that’s just my own delusions, my own wistful dreams of peaceful harmony, because in the next second, Cassian shoves me out of the way and storms from the room.

  It’s like a string snapping on my violin, stalling the music once and for all. Silence reigns as I stare after his broad back.

  Maybe in time, he’ll realize that telling the principal the truth about him and Mrs. Town was the one selfless thing I’ve done since I arrived at this godforsaken town. I don’t necessarily want him to forgive me—it would make obtaining my revenge that much harder—but I can’t stand this animosity saturating the air.

  And maybe it makes me all kinds of fucked up, but I can now mark Cassian’s name off of my list, alongside Karsyn’s.

  His dreams are crushed, his chances of getting into Julliard slim to none. His reputation hasn’t been tarnished, but that’s okay. I think he’s self-destructive enough to do the work for me.

  The great and mighty Cassian has fallen. And though it’s much quieter than I would’ve wanted it to be, it still feels pretty damn good.

  At least, it should feel pretty damn good, but I don’t feel the satisfaction I thought I would. I rub a hand over my heart, as if that could somehow fill the gaping hole present. But I don’t think anything I do will abate the lingering pain that remains.

  You got your revenge, Peony. This is what you wanted. This is what you needed.

  My resolves begin to harden as my hands ball into fists by my sides.

  Hell has a new ruler. Better watch out.

  I’m coming for you all.

  Chapter 32

  The entire confrontation with Cassian makes me feel icky and gross. It leaves a sour taste in my mouth, one that no amount of water can completely eradicate.

  He seemed so fucking angry. Was that anger still directed at me and what I did? Or was it for what I told him about Mr. Gurrel?

  And more than that, he seemed hurt, as if I betrayed his trust by going to the principal.

  But I also swear I saw relief in his brown gaze, though those other emotions masked it.

  My heart races in tandem to my thoughts as I hurry to my first hour, arriving a few minutes after the bell rings. When I enter, all eyes in the room flicker towards me, and I blush under their scrutiny. Emmett waves at me cheekily, while Mariabella looks on in concern. And there, looking like a regal king on his throne, sits Lucas. Today, he wears a soft, cashmere gray sweater with a white collared shirt underneath it. His blue jeans have been ironed, not a wrinkle in sight, and conform to his muscular legs in a way that should be illegal.

  Like, hello? Your legs are distracting me, dammit. You should change your clothes.

  It’s the equivalent of bra straps for girls.

  “You’re late, Peony,” Ms. Auperlee reprimands, reaching into her drawer and grabbing a detention slip.

  “She’s fine,” Lucas cuts in. “She had to help me with something before class.” His eyes dare Ms. Auperlee to contradict him, to punish me, and her cheeks turn scarlet as she drops the slip of paper back into the top drawer of her desk and shuts it.

  “Oh, um, yes. Please take a seat.”

  It never fails to astound me the amount of power these boys possess in the school. Even the teachers will look the other way if the Devils so decree it. I wonder if the people here actually believe that they’re supernatural creatures that have risen from hell’s bowels, claws extended and teeth serrated.

  “I didn’t need your help,” I murmur harshly to Lucas as I slide into my seat behind him.

  Lucas doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, he sits up straighter in his seat and begins to take diligent notes as Ms. Auperlee begins her lesson.

  “Hey,” Emmett mock-whispers from the left of me. I feel something soft whack me across the cheek, and I spin towards the football player in alarm.

  “What?” I ask, and he nods towards the wadded up piece of paper he just threw at my face.

  Ignoring Mariabella’s inquisitive stare and the way Lucas’s muscles tighten, I slowly unwrap the paper and smooth it out over my desk.

  I like you. I think you like me. Second date?

  Beneath the scrawled words he drew two boxes, one marked yes and the other marked no.

  I bite down on my lower lip anxiously. The thing is, I do like Emmett. He’s funny and sweet and sexy as hell. But then I remember how he persistently grabbed my ass when we were kissing, forcing his tongue between my lips, and my good thoughts evaporate like rainwater when the sun is high and blistering in the sky.

  Instead of answering, I merely slide the note into my backpack and focus once more on the lesson. When Ms. Auperlee gives us the remainder of the class period to work on our homework assignment for tonight, I know I’m in trouble.

  “Hey, did you read my message?” Emmett persists, tapping his foot against my own.

  “I did,” I confess.

  “And?” He leans sideways across his desk until he’s practically sprawled on mine. “I know our date got cut short because of some assholes.” He glares at the back of Lucas’s head. I can tell that the red-haired Devil is listening keenly, despite his attempts not to. His shoulders touch his ears as he rips a hole in his homework with the tip of his pencil. “But I think we could really have something. And that kiss…” He groans low in his throat. “The thing you did with your tongue…”

  Lucas spins in his chair so abruptly that the air shifts, propelling his papers off his desk.

  “Maybe we should talk about our own date instead?” Lucas asks with an evil grin. His eyes slide to Emmett before locking on my
own. “The one we went to on Friday after the football game? That cute little restaurant I brought you to? You looked radiant in your cheerleading uniform. I kept imagining ripping it off of you…with my teeth.”

  Have mercy.

  The thought of Lucas on his knees before me, his teeth grazing my inner thigh before clamping down on the hem of my skirt, has lust pooling in my belly.

  Nope. Not going there, Peony. Head out of gutter.

  I know exactly what he’s doing, and I refuse to be a part of their pissing match a second longer. If they want to measure their dicks, then so be it. I’ll even be willing to grab the measuring tape and do it for them. But this? Putting me in between them like I’m some sort of toy to be fought over? Fuck no.

  “Fuck you, Scott,” Emmett seethes, baring his teeth. Lucas smiles, every inch the feral mutt.

  “That’s what Peony said on our date,” he quips.

  Mercifully, the bell puts an end to the conversation. I glare at both of them, mustering all of my anger into that one loaded look, before picking up my backpack and turning towards Mariabella.

  Only to see that she has already left the classroom, golden hair trailing behind her.

  “Mari!” Forgetting about the stupid boys, I hurry after my best friend, watching as she gets swallowed by the crowd. “Mariabella!” I break into a jog, practically shoving students out of the way, before I reach her near the stairwell. I tug on her arm to get her to stop, and she whirls on me.

  I’m momentarily taken aback by the anger in her gaze. It somehow distorts her angelic features into something unrecognizable. Something, dare I say, demonic?

  “What do you want, Peony?” she asks haughtily, and I take a step back at the venom spewing from her lips. I’ve heard her mad before, but never like this. Never.

  “What the hell is up with you?” I demand.

  “Why do you care?” She cocks out her hip. “Maybe you should just talk to Lucas, since you seem to care so much about his feelings.”