Make Your Move (A High School Bully Romance): Hannaford Prep Year Two

by J Bree

  “It must be serious if you’re coming to me, little Wolf.”

  I nod and stare at the swings for a minute longer. I hope my voice is as hollow and lifeless as his is when I say, “Thank you for meeting me on such short notice, Crow.”

  He places his hands in his lap. “A favor is binding. I would never go back on my bond.”

  Right. Well, I guess I should just dive right in. “You have some dealings with Joseph Beaumont, correct?”

  He turns to look at me and the steely gray of his eyes cut me to ribbons. He’s a handsome man. His hair is only a shade or two lighter than Avery’s and it’s short on the sides with some length on top, making him look like a distinguished, clean cut businessman. Cleanly shaven, straight nose, and cheekbones for days. His tattoos swirls across the skin of his chest that his v neck shirt shows and look faintly like feathers and claws. Tall and broad but completely self assured in the way he carries himself. He looks older than twenty-two. His entire demeanor screams wealth, enough that I keep questioning myself on who he is when he’s not the Crow. Only the desperate enter the Game to become a member of the Twelve.

  “I find it wise to avoid the man. I’d suggest you do the same.”

  I reach into my pocket and pull out the velvet bag that holds his black diamond. His eyes drop to it and grow hungry. He wants the diamond back and favor over with. I can only imagine how heavy the weight of an owed favor must be.

  “I need to make sure he’s busy. I need him to disappear during the school breaks, all of them, until I graduate. I don’t care how, I don’t need details.”

  The Crow takes the bag and pockets it. He doesn’t check the contents like Diarmuid did, that would be a grave insult to me. Even the Crow is cautious of what I can do.

  “You should tell the Jackal to stay away from Joseph Beaumont as well. Whatever it is he’s making you do in that house, it’s not worth the wrath of that man.”

  I measure my words very carefully before I speak. I need to start distancing myself from the Jackal and everything he does but to say that outright would risk him coming to Hannaford for me.

  “This favor is my own. I have people I need to protect, people who are no concern of any other member of the Twelve, and I am well aware of the extent of that man’s wrath.”

  His eyes flash. His face slips just enough that I see concern. I’ve never been close to him, I’ve only really seen him at meetings, so I don’t know why he’s worried about me.

  “You’re protecting his children. They go to school with you, don’t they?”

  “They’re not up for discussion. I’m asking you to ensure that man never steps foot in a room with the twins again. Do you require any further information?”

  I slip into protocol to end this little meeting. I don’t want him digging into this and drawing more eyes to my back.

  “Done. I’ll call if anything comes up.”

  I give him a curt nod and walk back to the car, slow and steady like I’m used to meetings at midnight with crime lords and no backup. Ash looks grim in the front seat but his eyes never falter from the silhouette of the Crow. Only when I’m safely buckled into the Maserati does he glance away. My hands shake and I lace them together on my lap to hide it.

  Ash doesn’t speak to me as we drive back. He walks me back to my room and once I’m inside he grabs Harley’s keys off of me. He hesitates by the door.

  “Whatever you’ve done, if he finds out-“

  “He won’t. He won’t the same way Harley’s grandfather can’t come after him. I’m not going to explain it, you’ll just have to trust that it’s taken care of.”

  That’s the problem. Ash doesn’t trust anyone but his friends and I am not his friend. I can see him fighting with himself, the war waging in his mind clearly visible on his face, and I must be tired because I feel so fucking bad for him. How many times has he gone home from school to be beaten by his father? How long has he been abused by the other men in his family? Is that why he can’t trust anyone? How deep is the damage?

  “Go get some sleep, Ash. Just forget tonight ever happened.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I text Harley the next morning and tell him he’s a treacherous asshole.

  I know he has training for his swim team so I’m not expecting a text back, just the cold shoulder he’ll give me all day in our classes. As I rush out the door, late because Avery wasn’t around to make coffee and snark with, my phone pings.

  I check it while I lock the door.

  I’m helping Ash get his head out of his ass. I see how much you’re doing for us. I see how much Avery means to you. I see that you’re one of us. He needs to open his eyes and see it too. Fuck, even Morrison sees it and he’s usually too far up his own ass jotting down morbid love poems to see anything.

  My heart does a weird little flip.

  I don’t know how to answer it. Shrug it off, make a joke, or give him the same honesty? It’s a private chat, not the group one, so I take a risk.

  I’ll do whatever it takes to get us all out of here alive and together.

  He doesn’t text back.

  When I arrive late to our first class he doesn’t say a word, he just tips his chin to acknowledge me when I sit down. We work in silence but it’s soothing to me now, I don’t feel any hostility from him at all. When it’s time for lunch he grabs me by the elbow and directs me to the dining hall with him. Usually I eat an apple in the library and work on assignments or hangout in the dance rooms while Avery practices.

  He grabs a tray and fills it with food. I know he’s grabbing for me as well because he hates mushrooms and he’s grabbed the mushroom risotto I like. I grab us both iced coffees and we sit together.

  My stomach does not want to eat under his intense scrutiny but I also can’t turn him down like that. We don’t speak while we eat and after a few minutes Ash takes a seat next to me. I put down my cutlery with a sigh.

  Harley sees the look on my face and says, “Just eat, Mounty. He’s here for lunch not war.”

  I eat my banana.

  Harley and Ash start up a random conversation about cars they’re interested in, though Harley seems to be more reserved. Ash doesn’t look at me or try to speak to me and I focus on eating my lunch. I’m busy texting Avery about our plans to go to Haven together when Joey takes a seat next to Harley. I don’t acknowledge him and I finish the text. I’m not going to show this evil dickhead any respect or fear. Fuck him.

  “Does the Jackal know you’ve made some friends, Mounty?”

  I hit send and then I lean back in my chair. Ash’s leg has tensed where it’s pressed against mine under the table. Harley is glaring at Joey and the nerve in his jaw is ticking. “I don’t answer to him, or you, Joey. Where have you been hiding this year? I’ve barely seen you.”

  His eyes slide around the room in an awful liquid way, like he’s something not quite human, and his grin is nothing short of psychotic. “Oh, have you missed me, my little Mounty love?”

  I force myself to swallow the bile creeping up my throat. “I don’t think anyone misses you, Joey. I don’t think anyone could ever like you enough to miss you. What are you here for?”

  He picks up Harley’s steak knife and begins to play with it. Harley watches him carefully and, knowing what family he belongs to, I’m fairly confident he can defend himself if Joey takes a swing with it. However, Ash turns ghostly pale and looks like he’s going to vomit. If he has to stop Joey then he knows it will be Avery that pays. I don’t know why but I put a hand on his knee under the table and squeeze gently. He takes a deep breath.

  “The twins and Morrison are going to the recital next week in the city and I’m celebrating in their absence. Come to my party. I’ve missed hanging out with you and I think you should have a drink with me. I’ll make sure they have your favorite whiskey.”

  I glance at Harley to see a little frown on his face but his eyes still follow the knife.

  “Sure, why not. Arbour will come with me and we can ma
ke a night of it.”

  Joey grins and moves as if he’s going to put the knife down. He stares into his brother’s eyes obsessively, straight into the soul of his favorite victim, and then swings his hand down to impale the knife through Ash’s hand and into the table below.

  Well, that’s what he tries to do except my reflexes are quicker and I shoot out to catch his wrist. Harley gets ahold of his arm a fraction of a second later and the tip of the knife stops millimeters away from Ash’s skin. Joey pants like he’s getting off on this. He licks his lips and grins at us. It’s disgusting.

  I lean forward and whisper, “You may have tied his hands but you haven’t tied mine. Push me and I’ll show you that being a Beaumont only gets you so far in this world.”

  Ash and Harley have a raging argument about the party and I duck away from them both to head to my choir class. I have to go to the party, I need to know what Joey is planning and if Harley doesn’t want to come with me then I’ll go by myself. I only offered to take Harley because I thought he’d insist.

  Avery is laughing along with Blaise when I take my seat and I smile at Lauren, Jessie, and Dahlia. They all look at me with that awe-struck fear they direct at Avery and it’s pretty fucking weird to have it directed at me as well.

  “Stop being nice to the sheep.” Avery teases and I cut her a look.

  “Your green-eyed monster is showing, Ave’s. You know you’re my favorite.”

  She giggles and bumps my shoulder with hers. “The only green-eyed monster around here is Morrison and he’s too hungover to be any trouble.”

  Blaise rolls his eyes and I notice how bloodshot they are. “Drinking on a school night? How very rockstar of you.”

  He groans and slumps down. “I had no choice. Ash borrowed my car to go fuck a Haven chick and Avery cornered me about my own evening activities so I tried to drown her out with bourbon. I think I’m going to join Harley in celibacy because I haven’t found a pussy yet that’s worth dealing with Avery’s lectures.”

  Avery makes a gagging noise at him and I stare at him, stunned. I do not have anything to say. I’m saved by Miss Umber starting the class, thank Christ.

  “I have some exciting changes in your syllabus to announce! Usually your final assignment for choir is to perform in front of the class but this year we’re joining forces with the music students and holding a concert for the entire school!” She claps her hands like an excited toddler while she’s casually ruining my life. This woman…this fucking woman and her ‘good ideas’.

  “What the fuck is Miss Umber’s obsession with individual performances?” I hiss at Avery the moment the teacher’s back is turned.

  Avery hums under her breath at me, lifting her shoulder in a nonchalant way, and my palms begin to sweat. I’ll just have to talk to her again and get out of it somehow.

  Miss Umber hands out worksheets, designed to help us pick which song we will sing, and then giggles when Blaise smiles at her. Avery scoffs and rolls her eyes which only makes him turn up the charm. I don’t know how the older lady’s heart survives it, I am sweating.

  “The concert will be held at the end of the school year, choir students will sing in front of the entire school. Then the musicians will perform. So I hope you all take this very seriously, as always the majority of your mark will be determined by your performance. No exceptions. If you’re not there, you’re not passing this class.”

  Oh, god.

  I was no longer sweating at Blaise’s hotness. There is no way I can do this. No way. Next year I’m risking my fucking leg and doing track or something. Maybe I should join Harley on the swim team? Ash would probably have an aneurysm over it but whatever. Is it too late to switch out now? I’m spiraling, I know I am and I have to grit my teeth to pull myself out.

  Miss Umber starts directing the warm ups and I don’t even try to pretend to join in. Once her back is turned again, I lean into Avery.

  “911.” I hiss and she startles to look back at me. Blaise casts us both a curious look but he doesn’t miss a single note in his warm up.

  “Singing for a group is a 911?” she murmurs and I nod emphatically. She frowns at me and then nods.

  I don’t join in for the rest of the class. When Miss Umber questions me about it, Blaise cuts her off and flirts mercilessly with her until she forgets why she ever walked over to our group. Instead of thanking him, I hand him the iPod and he nods.

  We communicate better with lyrics than with words.

  Later that night, when Blaise has left from our tutoring session and Avery is freshly showered, I explain our confrontation with Joey at lunch.

  “He’s up to something.”

  Avery rolls her eyes at me. “He’s always up to something. The question is what’s changed? He’s stayed away from you because of the Jackal’s warning so he must have found something out if he’s playing with you again.”

  I nod and take a seat at the bench while she fusses with the stove. “Ash wasn’t too keen on Harley joining me. He thinks we’re walking into a trap. I mean, we are but what choice do I have?”

  Avery cocks her head as she stirs her cocoa. “I’ll try and put some feelers out, see if there’s any gossip about what he’s planning.”

  I nod and sigh, scrubbing a hand over my face. Who would think high school politics would be as complicated as this?

  “So? Are you going to tell me why singing is a 911?” Avery shoves a spoon into a tub of ice cream and slides it across the bench at me. It’s cherry flavored, I’ve never told Avery it’s my favorite and yet the sneaky bitch knows. I swear to god she’s going to take over the country some day. Or she’ll put a puppet in power and she’ll pull all the strings and make the whole damn world dance for her. The secret, darkest parts of my soul whispers to me about how much I love it.

  “Have you ever heard of the NTT? Naval Torture Technique?”

  Avery shakes her head and sips her cocoa.

  “It’s a way to increase your pain tolerance. It’s a long process where the degree of pain inflicted onto you is upped slowly until you’re able to stay silent and function even when you’ve been shot or have multiple broken bones.”

  Avery looks a little green. She’s put down her cup while I was talking and now her chin is propped up on her fist as she watches me.

  “I can’t hear the sound of my own raised voice, not yelling or singing, without triggering my PTSD from my training.”

  She rubs her eyes with her fists like she’s trying to scrub the shock and horror out of them too. “Right. Who did this…training to you?”

  “The Jackal.”

  Avery nods and drops her hands away from her face.

  “I should have known. Can you switch out to do a sport instead?”

  I raise my leg up so she can see the thick scars that run from thigh to ankle. “Nope. I’ll be in agony for days after any major activity.”

  “You really are broken, aren’t you?” she says with a smile. I think if anyone else said it to me I’d lose my mind at them but there’s this kindness in her eyes when I look at her. Like she knows exactly what it’s like to be shattered into a million pieces and taped back together in the wrong order. Fuck, we’re both a hot mess.

  I shrug and eat some ice cream. I wash up the dishes and Avery roots around in the bathroom. I think she’s doing her bedtime routine but then she hands me a pack of earplugs, saying “Put those in,” and then drags me over to her record player.

  If there is anything in this room that I’m truly jealous of it’s Avery’s record player and collection of vinyl. It was her mom’s and Blaise adds to it constantly, his own music and anything he thinks she’ll like.

  “What are we doing?” I slip one of the earplugs in.

  Avery messes around with the record player for a minute and then whirls around to me. “We’re fixing you. I heard you sing to Miss Umber so we know that you can do it, we just need to practice. We’re going to do this over and over again until it’s perfect.”

  I
hesitate as she hits play and ‘High Hopes’ by Panic at the Disco starts. The sneaky bitch must have looked at my worksheet. I sigh and slip the other earplug in just before I need to sing.

  I make it through the whole song. I remember the lyrics, having listened to this song a hundred times, and after the first chorus I’m calm enough to open my eyes. Avery watches me with rapture, sitting on her bed with her head propped up by her fists. When the song ends I give myself a second to breathe and then I take the earplugs out.

  “We need to fix you because you need to sing, Lips. I can’t even-there aren’t words for how you sound. Blaise is going to lose his mind when he hears you.”

  I blush and shrug. I don’t see myself getting over the PTSD. I’m going to do this because I need my scholarship but I’m never going to be able to just sing along with the radio or hold concerts in my shower. It’s just not possible.

  She starts the song over and I go again.

  Chapter Twelve

  Avery leaves for her recital at lunchtime on Saturday.

  There’s no word of what Joey has planned but I refuse to let it bother me. I can handle whatever he throws at me.

  I spend the afternoon on my assignments and practicing my singing. I heat up some leftovers for dinner and tuck in when my phone pings.

  Swim training finishes in an hour. I’ll come shower and get ready in your room after that.

  I gulp. Harley showering in my bathroom. Harley getting naked in my bathroom.

  Harley naked.

  Sweet lord.

  I scramble to get showered and ready before he gets here. I grab jeans, a lacy tank top and then throw a hoodie on over it all. I’m not trying to impress anyone, I just need to be comfortable and warm. I keep telling myself that even as I do my makeup and hair. When Harley knocks at the door I’m pretty happy with how I look.