Bully (Angel & Demons Trilogy Book 1)

by Ashley Love

  He's so angry at himself. He hates himself. And this isn't exactly old news, but it's especially strong today, the self-loathing. He thinks of how he hurt Ariel, how he lost control and nearly killed this girl who is so perfect and gorgeous. What kind of a human does that? Zane goes over and over it in his head, and the anger in his chest tightens and tightens like a rod between two wires, twisting and twisting, tightening the wires more and more, strangling him, choking him.

  He thinks of how he left Ariel to die. He thinks about how he couldn't save his mother in that burning car. He smells burning hairspray, and he feel pains start to eat away at his side again. How could he not do more to save his mother? It's the same thing with Ariel. He could have done so much more to save her. He could have gone back out there sooner. Ariel was out there all night, freezing and starving and thirsty. How could Zane do that to her? How could he leave her behind like that? How could he do the same thing to Ariel that he did to his mother?

  What the hell is wrong with him?

  He lays there seething, shaking a little with how pissed he suddenly is at himself. He's sweating, he's so upset, and even having Liam there next to him doesn't help like it usually does. He grinds his teeth so hard he thinks he might feel one chip. He needs to make this up to Ariel. It's too late to do anything to help his mother. Diane Winchester is dead. But Ariel is still alive, and she's hurt because of Zane. Zane did what he could this morning, but nothing is ever going to make up for what he did to her yesterday in the woods. Zane can try. He can do everything he's capable of to try to make up for it, but what he did to her is unforgivable.

  Zane's brain carries him back to thoughts of Slate again. Maybe he deserved what Slate did to him in that train car. Maybe that was just karma. He certainly deserves that and worse to be done to him now after what he did to Ariel.

  His heart is beating too hard, and he feels so empty, yet so full of fire all of the sudden. He has no idea how long he lays there on Liam's bed, but by the time Mike gets home, the sun has set and the stars and planets and moons on Liam's ceiling are glowing.

  Mike comes crashing into the house down the hall, and Liam jumps a little, looking over at Zane with wide eyes. Zane looks back at him, and this is the part where Zane usually gets up and goes to close and lock the bedroom door.

  But right now, he suddenly has an idea.

  He thought of a way he can start to pay for what he did to Ariel.

  It's not going to be fun, but he deserves every bit of it.

  He swallows, and gets up off of Liam's bed, his stomach fluttering nervously. He places one hand on Liam's shoulder, trying his best not to sound as angry and depressed as he feels. "Stay here, okay?" he orders, and Liam just gives him a look as if to say what the fuck are you doing?

  Mike is slamming around in the kitchen, and Zane closes Liam's door on his way out, glancing back once to make sure Liam is still sitting at his desk. Liam is wide-eyed and worried, but right now, Zane needs to do this. He needs to pay for what he did to Ariel. He can start by getting hurt as much as he hurt her. Maybe getting hurt even more. Maybe if he pushes Mike hard enough, Mike will kill him. That's what Zane deserves, right?

  He wanders out into the kitchen, and finds Mike rifling through the fridge. He's drunk again, as usual. But Zane is okay with it this time. It'll make what he's about to do much easier.

  He just stands there staring at his father for a long moment. It doesn't usually take much to set Mike off. One little comment will blow up in your face. But Zane needs to get him mad. Really mad. Mad enough to hurt Zane as much as he hurt Ariel yesterday. It helps that Mike is already drunk, and already seems to be irritated. But Zane still has to choose his words carefully. He doesn't want Mike to just wander back to his room and lock himself inside for the next few days like he's prone to do sometimes. He needs Mike to hurt him.

  The only way he knows how to piss Mike off the most is bringing up Diane. That's the one hot button in Mike's brain that is sure to get fists flying. Zane hates the idea of saying anything bad about his mother, but he needs to consider his options here. He needs a good beating, something to make right what he did to Ariel, make him and her even. And the only way to get that is by provoking Mike with trash talk about his mother.

  Zane swallows past the hard lump in his throat, and he feels like he's swallowing gravel, he's so nervous. Mike is scary. But Zane has to do this. He deserves this. He chokes back every reservation he has, whispering a small apology to the universe, hoping that maybe Diane will forgive him for the things he's about to say about her. He needs to get Mike angry. The sacrifice is bad-mouthing the woman who brought him into this world.

  He clears his throat a little to get Mike's attention, taking a step into the kitchen. Mike barely glances up from where he's rifling through the fridge. A jar of mayonnaise falls out, but Zane does dare go over to pick it up. He remembers what happened last time he tried to clean up something that fell out of the fridge while his father was there. He ended up with Tabasco sauce in his face.

  "Hey Dad?" he asks, trying to sound casual, and a lot more brave than he feels. "Can I ask you something?"

  Mike grumbles from inside the fridge, throwing a rotting head of lettuce towards the oven. He's probably looking for the beer he finished off last night. He probably doesn't even remember drinking it. "Not right now, Zane," he growls. "I'm busy."

  Zane swallows hard again, mustering his voice. "I just wanna ask you one thing," he says, and his voice cracks at the end, but he's hoping Mike doesn't notice in his drunken state.

  Mike growls and straightens up, holding onto the door of the fridge and glaring over at him. "What?" he demands.

  Zane freezes up momentarily when Mike looks right at him. It's an old, familiar fear that's seeping into his bones. Every encounter with a drunken Mike is a scary one, and learned fear always takes over. But Zane has to do this. He forces himself not to look away from Mike's annoyed eyes. He's not really angry just yet, only irritated.

  "I just wanna know..." Zane says, and his voice cracks so hard that his throat goes dry, and he has to pause and swallow a few times, his heart throbbing in fear. "I just wanna know, why did you marry Mom? I mean...she was a nice lady and all, but holy fuck, she was ugly."

  Zane wishes he could say more, but his voice catches in his throat, and he just stands there awkwardly after he insults Diane. In his head, he's whispering a thousand apologies a minute up towards the heavens, hoping his mother is covering her ears.

  Mike blinks at him, looking like he's not sure whether he heard Zane correctly. "Excuse me?" he asks, and he doesn't quite look mad yet, although his knuckles have started to bleed white where he's holding onto the refrigerator door, like he's just starting to feel the first tendrils of anger.

  Oh God, Zane has to say it again. This is a lot harder than he thought it would be. He swallows, trying desperately to lubricate his dry throat. He's sweating through his shirt, but his brain keeps screaming Ariel at him. He needs to pay for what he did to Ariel. Ariel is why he's doing this.

  "I was just wondering why you married such an ugly broad is all," Zane repeats, and his voice is a lot weaker than he wanted it to be. "She was real fucking ugly, Dad. Someone's gotta say it."

  Zane holds his breath and waits for the reaction. Mike just stares at him in disbelief for a moment, like Zane is a dog that just meowed. Zane is just beginning to muster the strength to insult his mother one more time when suddenly, he sees it. That switch in Mike's eyes. When the confusion and surprise bleeds into anger. It's subtle, and if Zane didn't know his dad, he wouldn't have caught it.

  But Zane knows that look. It's a look Mike only gets in his eyes when he's about ready to skin someone alive. Zane's stomach drops to the floor, and he can't even breath as he looks into Mike's suddenly murderous eyes.

  "What the fuck did you say?" his father asks, and his voice is low and dangerous. Zane has to actually reach out and hold onto the counter so his knees don't buckle
. That's the voice Mike uses when he's so angry that he can't even yell.

  Zane can't speak, so he doesn't respond. And then Mike is slamming the fridge door shut so hard the things in the door rattle and crash around inside, guaranteeing that five items will probably fall out next time they try to open the refrigerator. Zane's ears ring as Mike walks towards him, and he's saying something, but Zane has checked out.

  This is it.

  The first punch lands across his temple, and his vision goes black for a moment. He feels himself hit the ground, and when he blinks his vision clear again, Mike is already reaching down and picking him up again by his shirt, tearing the material. Zane feels another punch land on his jaw, and then another on his upper cheekbone, and he just tries to breathe through each hit.

  Mike is yelling now, screaming at him, and Zane knew bringing up Diane in any distasteful way would piss his father off this fast. But it's still surprising how easy it is to make him explode. Zane feels a trail of blood start to run out of his nose as Mike lands a few more punches, and while it hurts and it's awful and Zane can't really open his eyes anymore, he feels okay about it. This is probably what Ariel felt like in the woods yesterday. Zane is experiencing what he put Ariel through.

  So this is right. Zane deserves this. Zane deserves every hit.

  He has no idea how long it goes on, but distantly, he hears Liam's voice all of the sudden, screaming for Mike to stop. He's screaming so loud that Zane can hear his little voice over the ringing and buzzing and white noise in his ears. He feels his face bleeding, and he thinks his nose might be broken. There's a loose tooth in the back of his mouth that's leaking blood into his throat. Mike keeps landing punch after punch on his face and moves on down to his stomach.

  Zane feels himself fall to the floor again, and in addition to the fists hitting him, there are now smaller hands wrapping around his upper arms suddenly, trying to drag him away. Liam. Damn it, he told Liam to stay in his room. But he can't speak—he can't tell Liam to get the fuck out of here. Why can't he speak?

  He hears a small yelp, and then Liam's hands leave his arms, and it's just Mike hitting him again, shouting things Zane doesn't understand, spitting on his face. Zane raises his arms weakly in defense, choking on blood and he hears pattering footsteps running out of the room. The last thing he sees is a flash of blue, and he thinks it's probably just a memory of how blue Ariel's eyes looked in the forest yesterday.

  And Zane actually smiles. Or he thinks he does. And then everything goes black.

  37

  I return home from the hospital around seven that night. Sophia demands answers, but I just tell her everything is fine for now, even if I don't believe it myself. She glares at me and goes storming off into the living room to watch TV, and I wander into the kitchen. I'm exhausted, but Bonnie made me promise to eat something else before I go to bed.

  I was right about what was wrong with me. A combination of dehydration and mild hypothermia caused my fatigue and disorientation, as well as what could have been a concussion. I'd had Tessa as a nurse again, and she was as sweet as the day I went there and needed stitches on my head. She didn't lecture me about bullies or abuse or seeking help, which was nice, but she did look a little upset to see me in there again, wounded like last time.

  I pick gently at my earlobes as I wander into the kitchen, feeling the strange crunchy texture of mild frostbite there from the cold last night. Tessa told me I wouldn't lose my earlobe or anything, and to just put cream on it.

  I swallow. I'm glad at least the heater's not broken right now, so the house is relatively warm. I don't think I can spend another night freezing like I did last night. My mind wanders back to the deer again, but I shake those thoughts off and grab a plate of leftover casserole from the fridge, heating it and carrying it up to my room.

  I strip down as I eat, changing into clean clothing, just throwing away my torn and dirty clothes that I spent the night in the woods wearing. When I sit on my bed, I almost fall over, I'm so tired. I just want to sleep. But I need to eat, and I need to get Sophia to bed at least. And it's only seven.

  I chew slowly and stare up at the Project FAZ list I hung on the wall above my bed, to remind myself of all the reasons I can't have a crush on Zane Peterson. Fuck. It's only worse now, and that shouldn't be happening. I need therapy or something, because how could anyone in their right mind have this strong of feelings for someone who almost killed them little more than 24 hours ago?

  I don't like to think about the fact that, when I first woke up in Zane's bathtub this morning, I was as thrilled as I was confused as I was afraid to see him there. My fear and infatuation for the guy are one in the same, and that's unhealthy. But I can't fight it anymore. I can't. I'm too tired. I'm too worn out. I have a hard enough time dealing with everything else, and trying not to have a crush on Zane is exhausting.

  I finish the last bite of my casserole, ignoring the nauseous flip my stomach makes, and I set the plate on my nightstand. I stare at the Project FAZ paper for another moment or two and then stand up, pulling the paper down from the wall and ripping it up into several pieces. Screw it. I'm not going to do anything about my crush on Zane, but I'm not going to try to fight it anymore. What Bonnie said earlier was a good point.

  Zane came back. He came back. He didn't just leave me in the woods for good. He came back, and he took care of me today. He bathed me and gave me water, however unsuccessfully. There's good in Zane. I know that. I've known that from the start. There's something good in him, and I believe in him.

  I just don't know how dangerous that is.

  What I do know, is that I want to kiss Zane. I want to kiss him, and touch him, and hold him, and love him. And that right there is proof that I no longer possesses even a single ounce of sanity.

  38

  They say when you meet the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with, you'll know it. You'll know instantly that she's the one.

  Zane thinks that's total bullshit. Because if that were true, then maybe he would understand why he can't stop thinking about Ariel. Why he can't stop thinking about those abyssal cerulean eyes or that creamy pale skin that's so often marred by bruises and scrapes from him and his friends.

  Is this the universe punishing him? Is this karma making him fall for someone who would never ever want him back?

  The thing about soulmates is that they don't exist. Not really. People love each other, but Zane's seen it firsthand. You can love someone to the point at which it aches deep inside, but you still hate them half the time. True love and destiny and soulmates—it's all crap.

  And it's not like Zane loves Ariel. That would be impossible at this point, right? It's just that there's something there. Something in those godforsaken blue eyes that keeps Zane awake at night, guilty and awestruck and embarrassingly horny. And unable to stop fucking hating himself.

  Zane doesn't go to school for a week straight. He spends his days hiding in the corners of his house, waiting until Mike leaves for the bar or wherever his father goes during the day. Then he sits cross-legged on the matted rug in the bathroom, staring at the bathtub where Ariel had been laying Tuesday morning, unconscious and bloody and undeserving of the pain she was likely sustaining.

  It's not just that Zane is in no condition to go to school after possibly the worst beating from Mike he's ever gotten. It's more than that. He doesn't know what he's going to do when he sees Ariel. And word on the street is that Slate is back at school too. So there are two people Zane really needs to avoid: one he wants nothing but to see, and the other he never wants to see again.

  For five days Zane does this. He sits and stares at the empty tub, thinking about life and blue and miles of pale skin and how much he hates himself for the things he cannot change. Liam finds him a few times in there when he comes home from school and teases Zane about having uncontrollable diarrhea, listing off causes and cures he learned when he was briefly interested in going to medical school, before
realizing that they didn't have the frankly illegal amount of money it would take to buy him the extra education.

  After a few days though, even Liam stops teasing him, leaving him alone apart from bringing him food once in a while when he realizes Zane isn't going to feed himself, and cleaning Zane's wounded, nasty face morning and night.

  Once—only once—Liam asks hesitantly if Zane's ready to talk about what happened to him the night he burned his clothes. Zane just gives him a hard glare, and Liam lets it drop once more, instead bringing up Ariel, and whether or not Zane has spoken to her or made his move. Liam has been relentless with questions about Ariel ever since Zane told him about his secret crush on the girl. But Liam doesn't understand—he doesn't know why Zane can't just make a move on Ariel.

  Liam doesn't know what Zane did. He doesn't know how Zane hurt her.

  And Liam's never going to know. Just like he's never going to know what Slate did to him.

  In all honesty, thinking about what Slate did makes Zane feel like scrubbing his skin clean with steel wool, but that's not what's actually bothering him the most. He feels like a stain that's ruining a nice tablecloth. Ariel is crisp and clean and soft and innocent, and the furthest thing from weak, and Zane is tearing her to shreds and marring her because of the things shredding and marring his own brain.

  So he doesn't go to school for a week. Because there's that chance that he'll see Ariel in the hallway, in the cafeteria, walking across campus, and definitely in math class. The thought of seeing Ariel again is terrifying, exhilarating, and nauseating all at once. Ariel is very easy on the eyes, yes, but every time Zane looks at her, he feels like he's corrupting her. He doesn't deserve to look at a perfect girl like that.