Cruel Academy: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Princes of Ravenlake Academy Book 2)

by Nicole Fox

  The stars in my vision double. I taste blood.

  And still, no one is coming to help.

  “Don’t make it worse for yourself,” he slurs. “Relax and this could be real nice.”

  His hands wrap around my wrists, and his body is plastered to mine so thoroughly that I can’t even try to knee him again.

  His body rolls against mine, pressing the hardness at his center against my hips. I cringe away from him and try to pull myself free, but my arms feel like limp noodles compared to his.

  This is real. This is happening. I can’t think straight. Can’t fight back.

  I’m fucked. I’m fucked. I’m fucked.

  Suddenly, the door next to us swings open. A sharp triangle of light shines out, momentarily blinding me.

  We both look towards the door. Levi curses.

  “Fuck, sorry,” the intruder says. It’s a Hell Prince I recognize but don’t know well. “I didn’t know anyone was out here.”

  He starts to close the door. Just before it shuts, I gasp, “Help! Please.”

  “So dramatic,” Levi sighs, cutting me off. “We’re fine.”

  The Hell Princes aren’t good guys, but they are still human beings. I expect the guy to step in and see if I’m okay, to check and make sure I want to be here.

  Instead, he just chuckles to himself. “Have fun, you two.”

  Then he pulls the door closed, plunging us into darkness once more.

  3

  Caleb

  This kid never stood a chance.

  He came into this match thinking that being a few pounds heavier and a few inches taller gave him the upper hand.

  Big fucking mistake.

  It took him a while to realize it, too.

  It wasn’t until the third or fourth time I cracked him straight in the jaw that he started to understand he was in very, very deep shit.

  I dance around the corner of the ring as he lumbers towards me.

  The spotlights are bright. The crowd is roaring. It’s a good night for fighting. A good night for winning.

  The big idiot takes a huge, loping swing that misses by a country mile.

  I swerve around it, then deliver a crunching uppercut right under his chin.

  He hits the deck immediately, square on his ass. The crowd goes apeshit.

  “Stay down, moron,” I hiss at him.

  It’s for his own good. He oughta just stay down there and take his loss. That way, he’ll go home intact. I can’t promise what will happen if he tries to keep this going.

  But he’s not the type to take friendly advice, it seems.

  Growling like a wounded ape, he plants his knuckles on the canvas and lumbers up slowly. I sigh, wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of one glove, and get ready to do this again.

  He brings his hands up in front of his face. Takes one step towards me. Feints high with the jab, then tries to bring that big old roundhouse through again. Trying to take my head off.

  If I were anyone else, the feint might’ve fooled me. I might’ve eaten the roundhouse right to the chops.

  But I’m not anyone else.

  I’m Caleb Wilson. I own this fucking ring.

  It’s time to remind him of that simple fact.

  I duck under the roundhouse. It goes whistling over my head like a meteor.

  Then, two lightning-fast punches to his gut. The wind whistles out of his lungs. He doubles over, giving me that big, ugly face as a perfect target.

  Another uppercut. Crunch.

  Two crosses, one right and one left, send his head snapping in either direction. Pop! Pop!

  Blood flies. Sweat drips.

  And then he hits the turf.

  He’s out cold before he lands. I’m already turning to the crowd, mounting the rope, hands held high in victory.

  The crowd was deafening before. Now, they’re like a sonic boom. Packed to the rafters, chanting my name.

  “Ca-leb! Ca-leb!”

  I’m famous here. Undefeated prizefighter. The surefire bet who never loses.

  If only they knew what the rest of my life is like.

  4

  Caleb

  After the fight, I’m mopping the sweat off my face with a towel when a girl approaches.

  “Do you train every day?” she asks in that faux-curious voice that hides the real question underneath: Do you wanna fuck?

  She’s a card girl. Not one I’ve seen before, and I don’t know her name.

  More to the point, I don’t need to know her name. She is just the girl who lets the crowd know which round it is. The only requirement for the job is “extremely fuckable.” There isn’t a need to go into further detail.

  “Most days,” I answer. If football practice and beating down any idiots who come for me and my friends counts as training, then definitely.

  She drags a finger from my shoulder to my bicep and pokes at my arm. “That’s hot.”

  She is hot.

  Her denim shorts are so tight they look painted on, and her tits are bursting out of a low-cut tank top. Barely-there clothes are the mandatory wardrobe for any card girl, which is why I’ve slept with most of them.

  Another perk of the business.

  “Wait while I pick up my money, and I’ll show you how hot.”

  She gnaws on her plump lower lip, and I know she will service me just fine. I don’t need to connect with her on a spiritual level. I just need a place to dump the adrenaline still pulsing in my veins.

  I need a release. There’s no reason we can’t be that for one another.

  She nods, and I hold up a finger as I turn away.

  A few people stop me as I make my way to the kitchens, congratulating me on another win, but most people steer clear.

  No one from Ravenlake Prep is here. It’s not their scene.

  Most of the kids are from Public or other towns entirely. The Hell Princes run this joint, which means my Golden Boys don’t want shit to do with it.

  We’ve been in a truce with the Hell Princes for almost a year, but tensions are still … tense. Anything could go to shit at any moment.

  Best to stay on guard.

  There’s another reason I need to remind myself of that fact: no one at Ravenlake Academy knows I fight here.

  To a select group of Public kids and Hell Princes, I’m a fighting god.

  But to the kids at the richest private school in the state, that part of my life is a complete and total mystery.

  I intend to keep it that way.

  I push open the swinging kitchen door and step into the stainless-steel shell of what was once an operating kitchen.

  Felix, the fight promoter who arranges these underground events, is standing in front of the sink with two brawny guys on either side. The basin of the sink is full of cash.

  He looks over his shoulder at the sound of my footsteps.

  “I should start paying you in advance,” he remarks.

  “I wouldn’t mind.” I cross my arms and lean my hip against the counter. “It would save us both some time.”

  All three men turn, standing shoulder to shoulder to block the sink from my view.

  “I bet against you tonight,” he adds with a wild grin.

  “Why would you do something stupid like that?”

  He frowns. “Because you can’t win them all.”

  “History would disagree,” I laugh.

  Felix reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls out a bundle of cash bound with a rubber band.

  I take the time to eye the guys on either side of him. They’re Hell Princes, which means they’re wearing their leather jackets.

  “You know,” I drawl, “for an outlaw motorcycle club, you guys seem to have a very strict uniform policy.”

  “The fuck did you say?” the one with the shaved head growls. His buddy, a goon with eyebrows thicker than caterpillars, tightens his fists and takes a half-step towards me.

  I chuckle. “I’m just saying, it’s Texas. Hot as hell down here, in c
ase you haven’t noticed. Have you considered switching to something else? Linen, maybe, or seersucker? Maybe then you morons wouldn’t stink like sweaty shit all the time.”

  I’m still laughing as the pair of Hell Princes flanking Felix look like they’re ready to throw down here and now.

  Felix rolls his eyes. “Easy, idiots,” he snaps at the two bodyguards.

  They growl, but relent. Even dumbass Hell Princes know the pecking order around here.

  He tosses the money across the counter to me. “Count it if you want. It’s all there.” He says that every time.

  And every time, I unbind the cash and count it anyway.

  He sighs. I ignore him.

  When I first came to the fights, Felix almost tossed me out on my ass. There are high school kids in the Hell Princes, but Felix is in his mid-twenties, and he was worried the fights were turning into an after-school program.

  He especially wanted me gone when he heard I came from Ravenlake Prep.

  “Get your pansy, prep school ass out of my face” were his exact words, if I remember correctly.

  Before he could even finish the sentence, I’d twisted his arm behind his back and had my fist poised a centimeter from his eye.

  From then on, I was allowed to fight.

  It’s been extremely worth his while. I don’t lose—ever. Week after week ends with me on top of the ropes while the crowd screams my name.

  He lost money on me this week for being stupid enough to bet against me, but the rest of the Hell Princes no doubt made a pretty sum.

  I’m their cash cow.

  Which is why, even in the midst of the drama between the Hell Princes and the Golden Boys, Felix wants to keep me around. It’s also why none of the Hell Princes ever mention my fights to my best friends.

  They respect my wishes because it’s good for their bank account.

  And also because I’ll beat the fuck out of any of them who don’t.

  When I finish counting the last crumpled bill, I shove the five hundred dollars deep in my pocket and tip an imaginary hat. “Thanks for your time, as always, gentlemen. And keep in mind what I said about the linen. Very breathable material, you know?”

  And then I’m gone, leaving behind two very pissed off Hell Princes who couldn’t lay a finger on me if they wanted to.

  Because if they did, I’d put them in the fucking dirt.

  5

  Caleb

  Most of the crowd has cleared from the arena, leaving behind the people cleaning up after the fight. There are two card girls standing within spitting distance of one another.

  Shit.

  For the life of me, I can’t remember which one I was talking to before.

  There’s a redhead and a blonde, which should be a dead giveaway, but I was a bit more focused on her other assets to pay attention to her dye job.

  They both have on tiny denim shorts and tank tops, asses that never quit, tits on display in expensive push-up bras.

  I weigh my options. I could take a stab at it—just walk up to one of the girls and say something nondescript. Then, if she seems confused or doesn’t recognize me, I’ll move on to the other girl. Easy enough.

  From the back, the redhead has the bigger ass. I decide to start there. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

  I check my phone as I saunter over. I have a few notifications from the guys. J.C. wants to know where I moved Finn’s spare key, and Noah texted a minute after J.C. did to tell me not to tell him where the key is.

  I’ve been watching Finn’s house for him ever since he and Lily split for New York in the middle of the summer. I’m the only Golden Boy he can trust to actually show up to take care of the place and not destroy it.

  Lily got into an art school up there, and Finn is working remotely for Barber Engineering. After all the shit with his dad happened, Finn inherited a lot of Mr. Foster’s responsibilities at the company. It’s taken a while to clean up the mess old William left behind.

  I text J.C. to fuck off and stay away from Finn’s house when I’m not around. No telling what that clown would get up to if he was given run of the place.

  The red-haired card girl spins around at the sound of my footsteps, purring out a greeting. “Hey, Caleb.”

  Not helpful. I was hoping for something more concrete like, Are you ready to rail me now?

  “Hey.” I glance up, but nothing about her face is particularly memorable.

  She turns towards me, chest pressed out. “Great fight tonight.”

  Shit. The other girl already said that, so unless she has early-onset dementia, this isn’t her.

  “Caleb?” The blonde card girl is skewering me with her gaze.

  Guess I picked wrong.

  Blondie lifts an eyebrow. “Did you forget which card girl you were going home with?”

  Now both girls are looking at me, and I’m trying to math out the likelihood of turning this mishap into a three-way. Maybe we could all laugh about it while they take turns riding me. Stranger things have happened.

  Before I can bring it up, though, I hear a scream.

  The sound is faint, probably coming from behind the building.

  I turn to the sound, and immediately, it cuts off. “What was that?”

  The blonde snorts, obviously annoyed. “Are you shitting me? That was probably your chances of getting with this flying away. You’re a pig.”

  She storms off, her high heels unsteady on the gravel parking lot.

  I expect the redhead to respond in kind, but she takes a step closer. “Maybe I’d be offended if you forgot me, but—”

  There is another muffled scream.

  It’s quieter this time, but it still distracts me enough that I miss the second half of the redhead’s sentence.

  The front lot is mostly empty, and there shouldn’t be anyone around the back. As soon as the fights end, the bouncers herd everyone out the front doors and away from the building.

  Usually, I’m not even still here by this point. Already off somewhere getting my dick sucked.

  The girl lays a hand on my chest and rubs her chest against my arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”

  I consider it. After all, it’s not my job to play caped crusader and go rescue whoever’s screaming.

  I got myself into a mess like that once before. It didn’t end well. I’ve got the scars to prove it.

  “Yeah, but give me a minute. I want to check something out.”

  The girl frowns, but she follows me as I turn and head back towards the school building. I angle across the lot and round the crumbling brick façade to the side of the building.

  The cars that were parked in the old staff parking spaces when I first arrived are gone now, and the skinny alley running straight down the side of the building to the back is plunged into shadow.

  No one should be over here.

  “What are we doing?” the girl asks. “I’m not into doing it against the bricks. It hurts my back.”

  “I heard something.” I’m not whispering, but my voice is low.

  “So?” she crosses her arms and taps a foot on the cement. “I’m not going back here with you. It’s dark and creepy as hell.”

  “Would you shut up?” I hiss over my shoulder.

  She lets out a frustrated huff of air. She is about to continue annoying the shit out of me.

  But before she can, there is a third short, stifled scream for help.

  I know the card girl hears it this time because she yelps in surprise and freezes in place.

  I take off down the side of the building at a loose jog, leaving the redhead behind me.

  I’m halfway down the side of the building when I see dark shapes ahead of me separate from the darkness.

  A lump of shadows pressed against the wall, squirming.

  It takes a second for my eyes to adjust. But when I get closer, I’m able to see a larger shape pressing someone against a wall. Based on the screams, I assume it is a girl.

  And whatever the guy i
s doing to her is very far from consensual.

  Her arms are pinned above her head, and he is fumbling with something between them. She lets out another scream, and he immediately stops what he’s doing and clamps a hand over her mouth.

  In a matter of minutes, her screams wouldn’t have mattered.

  I would have left with the card girl, and this girl would have been here alone. She could have screamed as loudly as she wanted and it wouldn’t have made a difference.

  “Hey, asshole,” I bark, flipping my phone’s flashlight on and shining it into the darkness.

  The guy squints and then turns away, trying to shield his eyes.

  The girl takes the opportunity to knee him in the crotch and wiggle out of his grip.

  Smart chick.

  “Hey, hey,” the guy says, his voice low and slow. He sounds drunk. “We were just talking. Why don’t you mind your—”

  He is so out of it he doesn’t even realize I’ve crossed the distance between us until my fist hits his face. My body is still smarting from the fight, but I always have a little juice left in the tank for scumbags like him.

  My punch hits squarely. The bastard’s head snaps back and hits the brick wall.

  Immediately, he slumps down to the sidewalk. For a second, I think he is going to try to get up and fight. His arms twitch, and he sits up slightly.

  But before anything can happen, he falls back down. Out cold.

  Night, night, motherfucker.

  “Well, that was easy.” I’m almost disappointed.

  The girl he was assaulting is standing just behind me. When I turn around, we are less than a foot apart. Close enough that I can smell her perfume.

  Her eyes are wide, and even in the darkness, I can see they are a vibrant blue. Her hair is wavy and wild around her head, hiding half her face.

  She takes a startled step back and straightens her clothes, pulling down her cropped hoodie. “Thank you,” she murmurs.

  I nod, about to tell her it was my pleasure.

  But then she steps forward into the ring of light.

  All at once, I realize I know exactly who this bitch is.