Sinners: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 1)

by Cassie James

  My mouth twists into a scowl as Jax continues to stand there staring at me with that stupid smirk. Like he knows he’s about to get what he wants. “Hey.” Jake taps my cheek to force me to look at him. “It’s okay, neither of us can afford to get in trouble here, right?” He leans in and presses a kiss as close to the corner of my mouth as he can get without full-on kissing me. “Call if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” I mumble to him as I start to slide across the seat. Jake doesn’t let go of me until I’m sliding far enough away that he can’t reach anymore. He lets his hand hit the empty seat as I reach the door and struggle to step out without bumping into Jax. “Seriously?” It’s exasperating that he refuses to move, still holding onto that smirk as I’m forced to brush past him to get out without catching my backpack on the door. I turn right back towards the truck once I can put some space between the two of us. “Bye, Ja—” Jax slams the door shut. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” This was exactly the kind of confrontation I didn’t want this early in the morning. I wave goodbye to Jake through the window, instead. I try not to let it hurt my feelings that he doesn’t even roll the window down to get a real goodbye in before he pulls away, the traffic on either side of him having subsided by now as everyone got pissed and figured out how to squeeze their way around the truck. I look at Jax. “What the hell was that?”

  He rolls his eyes at me, as if I’m the one being dramatic here. “Dr. Peterson is asking around about you.” My backpack is only slung over one shoulder. Jax grabs the free strap and uses it to drag me forward with him. I nearly stumble over my own feet trying to jerk away from him, but he’s got a surprisingly tight grip for someone who seems like they only ever half-ass anything.

  “I don’t even know who that is.” And why the hell does everyone at this school have a doctorate anyway? Who even pays these people’s salaries? I really should ask Pearl what kind of tuition she’s paying for this place. No, I probably should look it up online, I’m not all that comfortable asking Pearl money questions. I haven’t even worked up the nerve to ask her about replacing the cellphone Smith gave me that I don’t want to keep using any longer than I have to.

  “Dr. Peterson is the counselor.” He says it like he’s explaining something to a two-year-old. We’re nearly to where Smith is waiting, still watching us closely, but Jax stops abruptly and forces me to face him. “Peterson’s going to ask you about those pictures, but you shouldn’t tell him anything.”

  I bark out a laugh that gets more attention than I meant it to. “I don’t have to protect you people.” After everything they’ve been putting me through, it’s insane of him to expect me to lie or withhold anything for his benefit—or anyone else’s.

  Jax lets out a low growl that does something to my lower body that I would never admit to. An involuntary shudder rips through me. Even coming from someone I loathe, that noise is so undeniably sexy. Damn the bullies of this school for being so distractingly hot that it makes my brain randomly short-circuit. This is definitely one of those instances, at least for that brief moment.

  “It’s not us you’ll be protecting. Peterson isn’t trustworthy, and everyone besides you already knows it. Ask Sadie if you don’t believe me. She has to meet with him twice a week and still doesn’t tell him shit.” He trips me up with that tidbit of information. I think back on the way Sadie got dragged into that guy’s office on the very first day of school. Why is Sadie seeing the school counselor twice a week? “We don’t have time for you to think this over. You need to get in there, but you need to keep your mouth shut.” I can tell he’s getting frustrated with me. He lets go of my backpack but doesn’t give me a chance to go anywhere. Instead, he grabs my chin, his fingers digging painfully into my cheeks as he forces me to make direct eye contact with him. “Everyone here has a lot to lose if you say one wrong thing. You haven’t even begun to see how bad things can get for you here. Do you understand?” I swallow hard and manage to nod despite the fact that his grip is so tight it’s making my eyes water.

  “Good. Let’s go.” He lets go of my face but grabs my backpack strap again. Damn him. I’m perfectly capable of finding the counselor’s office by myself. It’s the one office in our building that’s actually labelled and everything.

  We start to pass Smith, but Smith steps in Jax’s path. “What the hell was that?” Jax starts to sidestep Smith, but Smith shoulder checks him. “You tell me to back off but then you’re pulling that shit? I’m getting real tired of listening to you only for you to screw me over.” Jax lets go of me, but I’m so surprised by what’s happening that I don’t go anywhere. Is Smith seriously standing up to Jax right now? He couldn’t have done this about five minutes earlier?

  “You started this.” Jax’s voice is low enough that no one else walking past can hear him, but I do. I don’t think he meant for me to be able to hear, too. “You were the one that wanted my help. You came to me. So now if you don’t like the way I do things you can fuck off, Harrington.”

  I want so badly to see Smith keep standing up for himself, but whatever Jax is talking about, it cools Smith off real fast. He mutters something I can’t hear under his breath before he spins and takes off towards the parking lot. I try to watch to see where he’s going, but Jax is back to grabbing me and we’re moving again. I let myself be dragged along without much of a fuss once I realize people are avoiding looking at me. It’s not because of me, either, because I catch Jax glaring daggers at anyone that dares take even a quick look in our direction. I hate him, but he’s casting a weird safety net around me at the moment.

  He takes me all the way to Peterson’s office, where Dr. Peterson himself is waiting. He looks Jax over suspiciously as Jax basically shoves me in his direction. The whole thing is weird beyond words, but I can’t seem to forget Jax’s warning. I believe him when he says things could get worse for me here. So, when I’m alone in Peterson’s office and he starts asking me all kinds of questions about my family stuff and the pictures from Friday and everything in between—I lie my ass off. About anything and everything. I don’t know what it is Jax doesn’t want Peterson to know, but I walk out satisfied I haven’t given away anything. And I hate that my first thought as I head to first period is to wonder how it would feel for Jax to be proud of me. Teenage girl hormones are the fucking worst.

  Chapter 11

  For a whole week, I’m able to pretend the pictures never happened. Ace doesn’t come to school which means I don’t have to face him. And the one time a senior tries to harass me about it, I see Jax pulling him aside a few minutes later. That guy doesn’t bother me again. I can’t even begin to fathom why I suddenly get a whole week of peace, but I don’t dare look a gift horse in the mouth. I start riding to school again with Sadie and Smith after having a heart to heart with Sadie—and promising her I’m not planning to use her little secret against her. Aside from some long glances in the rearview mirror that I pretend not to notice, Smith mostly ignores me. I even start eating lunch with their friend group, mentally blocking out the fact that they’ve all now seen what I look like half dressed from the waist up. I try to keep my guard up, but it gets harder as my third week passes with almost no trouble.

  It’s a false sense of security I’ve been lulled into, because when the next week comes, I’m not so lucky. Jax and I have to meet before classes start Monday to talk about our history project. I offer to find another ride, but Smith insists on driving me. I walk out of the house with coffee in hand, surprised when it’s only Smith waiting for me.

  “Where’s Sadie?” I peek around him like he could be hiding her somewhere, even though the thought is ridiculous.

  He opens the passenger side door for me, which is a first. “She’s not ready. I’ll drop you off then come back and get her.” I pause with my hand next to his on the top of the door, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I’m not sure how else I’ll get to school if he doesn’t take me, as far as I can tell Pearl doesn’t drive, but I feel guilty making him take me only to
have to come back again for his sister. “I’m the one that offered, Princess,” he reminds me, reading my guilt easily. “Get in.”

  I climb into the car, gritting my teeth as he shuts the door behind me. Smith is the king of hot and cold, and I don’t like the way my heart flip-flops when he’s being more warm than frigid. I really am a masochist. I watch him out of the corner of my eye and he climbs into the driver’s seat and starts us in the direction of school. There’s a decidedly Scandinavian look to him with his blonde hair, blue eyes, and lean body. He’s much prettier than the guys I’m usually attracted to, but damn if I can’t get behind the boyish rebel thing he’s got going on. He’s way too clean cut and with a much too pretty face to look like a real bad boy, but then he puts this dark leather jacket on over his uniform shirt and it’s such a hot contrast.

  “Are you staring at me?” We’re stopped at a stoplight and Smith looks right at me, leaving me no choice but to twist my head the rest of the way to meet his eyes. I pray like hell that he can’t see the blush I feel fighting it’s way up my neck. “It’s okay,” he says when I don’t answer, “I like it.” He winks and I am mortified. My soft blush turns into a full on facial flush as the light turns and he’s forced to focus on the road.

  I turn my head towards the window. “I wasn’t staring.”

  “Uh-huh.” For a few minutes he sings along softly to the radio, some kind of indie rock song that I’ve never heard before but I like it. And that definitely has absolutely nothing to do with how good Smith’s singing voice is. “I noticed your friend didn’t stick around.” It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about Jake, who’s been gone for a week now.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” I reach into my backpack and then set the phone Smith gave me in the cupholder between us. “You can have that back. I’m a big girl, I don’t need someone controlling who I’m allowed to talk to.” I finally asked Pearl about a new phone. She didn’t even ask questions, just made a few phone calls and had something delivered the same day. I’ve been carrying around the other phone waiting for a good moment to return it and let Smith know I now know what he did. This seems like as good a time as any.

  “Shit.” He looks from the phone to me. “Shit,” he says again. He clears his throat with a slight wince. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.” Yeah, no shit.

  “Then why did you?” Because as far as I can tell, he didn’t really think it through. Jake and I have been friends for so long, I was going to get suspicious eventually. Even when we’ve argued, Jake’s never just ghosted on me.

  We’re pulling into the nearly empty school parking lot before he answers me. He pulls in up front and puts the car in park. He looks right at me as he reaches across the console to stroke my arm. “We have chemistry, yeah? Didn’t you feel it that first night out on the balcony?” It’s not exactly an answer, but it seems like enough to confirm there’s some weird jealousy at play here.

  “No,” I lie, but I know Smith sees right through it. His lips quirk up in the corner like he wants to laugh at my denial. “And even if I had felt anything, which I didn’t, it wouldn’t matter because you’re not all that nice to me.”

  His eyebrows, so light you could almost miss them if you weren’t looking carefully, rise into high arches as leans in so close his breath dances across my cheek. “I could be nice to you. Really nice.” He trails his fingers up my arm and into my hair. I’m pretty sure he’s about to kiss me, and against my better judgment, I’m pretty sure I’m going to let him.

  A hand slams down on the passenger side window and we both jump apart. Smith glares over at the person while I catch my breath. Warm September air rushes over me as my door opens. Jax. He looks mildly amused, and I’m sure he’s well aware he just interrupted… something.

  “We’ve got a project to work on.” Jax’s posture is just as relaxed as usual, but his arms are tense where he’s got them perched crossed over the car door. “If this is what it takes to get your attention, I’d be more than happy to oblige, myself.” I cross my arms over my chest, tempted to refuse to get out of the car. He’s insinuating that I’m easy and it really freaking pisses me off. Especially because it feels a little too close to the truth for comfort. I have admittedly been struggling with my attraction to several of the assholes around here since arriving. Apparently, I have a type.

  I don’t know what comes over me but I do get out of the car—and then slug Jax in the arm. He blinks back his surprise, rubbing the spot where I straight up punched him. I blink back at him, refusing to apologize. I don’t care if he is the governor’s son, he deserved that.

  “Let’s get to work.” I start to leave but call back over my shoulder, “Thanks for the ride, Smith.” I walk faster than my normal pace just so Jax has to walk behind me the whole way to the library. It’s not until we reach the library doors and I turn slightly that I realize he’s staring at my ass. So much for me having the upper-hand. I stare pointedly at him until he realizes he’s been caught looking. He has no shame. He grins as he steps around me to hold the door open. I’m surprised to see he’s got any manners at all.

  This is only my second time in The Patience School’s library and I’m just as awed by it the second time as I was the first. Unlike the school library back home with its sagging shelves even saggier librarian, this place looks like an art museum. The books sit on display on these oversized wood shelves that are so tall they create all kinds of quiet spaces. Jax leads me to one of them, a corner table hidden behind the biographies section. We saw a couple other people when we walked in, but this is the closest I’ve been to being alone with Jax, and it turns me into a nervous wreck. I fumble with my backpack, trying to find something to take notes with. Jax beats me to it. He slides a notebook and a pen across the table to me.

  “You write.” I frown at him. This isn’t off to a good start if he’s going to be this bossy the whole rest of the semester. He sighs. “Because you have better handwriting than I do. Chill out.” It’s incredible how he manages to both compliment and talk down to me all in the same breath. Still, I pick up the pen. Jax has our history textbook. He flips aimlessly through it for only a second, not even long enough to actually look at anything in particular. “I think we should do our presentation on The Great Depression. You know all about being dirt poor, we could use that to our advantage.”

  I set the pen back down. “Good luck on your project.” I stand up, grabbing my backpack and walk away while Jax’s still busy patting himself on the back for how clever he thinks he is. I’m already halfway to the door before he catches up to me. This time, I manage to keep both of my backpack straps out of his reach. “Fuck off, Woods. I’m done playing this stupid game with you.”

  He follows me into the hallway. “You have to do this project with me, it’s the bulk of our grade for the semester.” There’s a mild panic in Jax’s voice, but it actually doesn’t surprise me. I’ve seen how Jax is in class, he does actually do his work. His grades matter to him far more than mine matter to me. The only reason I’ve been showing up consistently to school is because I’m hoping to build some goodwill with Pearl.

  I shrug. “I’ll fail, then.”

  “Stop fucking walking away from me.” Jax must decide he’s done chasing me, because he grabs my arm and jerks me up against the wall between two banks of lockers. He puts a hand on either side of my head, pinning me in as I stare defiantly back at him. Everyone in this school—and fuck knows who else—has seen me in my bra after I was betrayed by someone I thought was my friend. Jax can do his fucking worst, I can’t imagine how he’d compete with that. “You’re turning out to be an even bigger pain in my ass than I expected you to be.”

  He leans in, his cheek grazing mine. His face is scruffy where he must have skipped shaving this morning. I’m pretty sure facial hair is against school rules, but I’m not surprised that Jax doesn’t care. I tried to ignore how much more dangerous and masculine it made him look but it’s much harder to ignore the feel of that
scruff against my own smooth skin. I squeak quietly as Jax slides his nose across the sensitive skin of my neck just below my ear. He doesn’t acknowledge the sound, so I hope like hell he didn’t hear it.

  “You’re driving me fucking crazy,” he groans. He leans into me, leaving no mistake as to what he means. He’s hard. Really hard. And he’s not trying to hide it at all. I squirm against him, unable to control my natural reaction. Damn him for turning my brain into mush with the way he’s touching me.

  He fingers the front of my blouse, toying with the buttons in such a way that I catch myself staring mesmerized down at his hands. He catches the top button, unhooks it. It’s not so scandalous losing one button but then he starts working the second one. “Wait,” I protest.

  He doesn’t even slow down. “Is this the same bra you wore for Ace?” His eyes trace the shape of my red bra. It’s not the same bra from the pictures, but it is similar. The question is disgusting. Nothing about this feels sexy anymore. Now it just feels dirty. I try to slip away from him, but his lower body is pinning me in place.

  “Get off.” He traces the exposed part of my cleavage with one of his fingers. “Get off,” I repeat, my panic growing as I try helplessly to shove him away. He’s like a fucking boulder not giving an inch. “Jax, stop.”

  He’s really starting to scare me. I let my body go limp because squirming against him is only making it worse. When I do, it’s like I’ve thrown a bucket of ice water over him. He stops cold, tearing away from me. His expression is blank as he stares at me like I’m something he doesn’t recognize. For a full minute I just stand there under his scrutiny, my heart racing so much that I’m irrationally worried that I might be having a heart attack or something. An anxiety attack would be much more likely.