The Princess and the Bully (Goldsworthy University Book 1)

by Tiffany Ransier

  I approach Callan, softly touching his back. “Callan, just leave him. Please, I need to get out of here.”

  Callan glances back at me, his eyes dark. As Josh’s hands flop to the ground, Callan suddenly pulls away, pulling him back and letting him fall to the ground next to the toilet.

  Josh gasps, coughing hard.

  Callan throws a glare in his direction and clutches my hand. He leads me out and down the hall.

  It’s a long way back to my room, but when we finally get there, I collapse onto my bed. Callan’s hands move to my feet as he slides my heels off.

  I hear clothing moving around in the darkness and then I see him get on my bed in just his white shirt and black pants. He gathers me in his arms and rubs his hand along my arm.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, even though I don’t need to. No one’s anywhere near here.

  He grunts. “Wilhelmera, never be afraid. If you ever find yourself afraid, call for me. Or fuck, even call my phone. I will come for you as fast as I can.”

  My eyes feel teary and I rub at them quickly.

  In a soft voice, he explains, “I’m glad I ended up following you to the bathroom five minutes after you left. I hope you know if I ever see that bastard again, he’s dying for real next time.”

  Nodding, I inhale, smelling Callan’s clean scent and let myself become consumed by it and the beating of his heart. And we just stay like that in the darkness of my room. Laying quietly together with no one barging in to bother us.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Callan

  I’m in a deep sleep when I hear my phone going off.

  Fuck it’s too early for this shit.

  Didn’t I just get back to AAA after an early morning practice?

  I feel around on my bed and grab my phone, hitting accept quickly when I see the name on the screen.

  “Princess,” I groan. “I’m trying to sleep before class this afternoon.”

  “I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, I got back to my room and all of my clothes have been destroyed.”

  “What the fuck?” I rub my eyes and sigh. “Why would someone do that?”

  She doesn’t respond, staying quiet. “Wil?”

  Her voice comes out shaky, “I just…I called my parents and they’re sending clothes over, but I won’t be getting them for a few weeks. I hate international shipping. Do you think, well…” she hesitates.

  “Just spit it out. Stop beating around the bush,” I snap.

  She sighs. “Can you take me shopping for a few things after your class? Maybe I’ll get two outfits and cycle through them? It’ll be super fucking embarrassing, but oh well.”

  “Are you kidding?” I sit up, stretching my arms above my head. “We’ll get at least a month’s worth of clothes to replace the ones you lost. I’ll ditch today. Meet me outside in a few.”

  “Thank you!” she squeals.

  “See you soon, princess.” I hang up and glance at the phone to find it’s already past noon, though it would have to be if she’s calling me now.

  I throw a shirt on and get in my Lambo and go.

  When she gets in, she shows me a picture on her phone of all of her clothes strewn across her room. Some spray painted. Some torn. All completely wrecked.

  “No one saw anything?” I ask, looking over my shoulder and taking off.

  “No. No one ever sees anything,” she mumbles, mindlessly watching the road.

  “What?” There she goes again, being vague.

  “It’s nothing. Just thanks for taking me.”

  Our relationship changed after the Christmas Eve ball. We went straight to my house instead of her staying at the sorority alone for New Year’s.

  The past month and a half we haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other. But there’s always something she seems to be holding back. Something she won’t say. We’ve argued about it so many fucking times.

  It has to be because she doesn’t trust me enough yet.

  When we get to the mall, everything is decked out in pink and red and there are hearts all over the place.

  A couple pass by us, holding hands and speaking softly to each other. I’m close enough to hear them say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ to each other.

  Valentine’s Day.

  What a stupid holiday.

  She smiles, looking around. “Before we go shopping, I want to go to Godiva. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.”

  It’s on the second level of the mall, but when we get there it’s packed. Thirty minutes later, we’re at the counter and she picks out some milk chocolate and some milk chocolate with caramel in the center.

  “I’ll pay for it,” she says, handing her card to the cashier.

  Frowning, I shake my head at the cashier. “Take my card. Now.” I hand it off and she takes it looking from Wil to I.

  “I wish my husband was that enthusiastic about paying for my stuff. You two are such a cute couple. Happy Valentine’s Day!” The cashier hands me the card back.

  Wil smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Why? “Thank you.”

  She’s quiet as we take the escalator back downstairs to the clothing stores.

  I grunt and grab her hand. “Wil. If you wanted us to do something special today, we could have.”

  She squeezes my hand. “No. It’s okay. I know we’re not…well we’re not there yet.” I’m about to respond when she steps off as the escalator reaches the bottom. She brings me to the first store on the right. “Let’s just shop for now and talk about it later, okay?”

  I nod, but I’d rather just tell her, I want to spoil her every day of the year. Give her whatever she wants when she wants it. She doesn’t have to wait for this day to get chocolate and flowers.

  Shit she’s turning me into a sap. Me, Callan Goldsworthy, a sap.

  Who claimed he would never be tied down by any one girl.

  But Wil isn’t just any girl.

  We’re in the food court eating Chinese food when I hear the tell-tale click of phone cameras.

  She sighs. “They’re taking pictures again.”

  “Let’s just finish and go,” I tell her, glaring around as a warning to anyone who thinks about following us back to my car.

  The whole world knows about us now and the whole world is judging her so fucking hard for dating Heath and now me. No one but me knows their relationship is fake.

  She doesn’t want to explain to the police why she didn’t tell them before.

  We get up, throw our trash away and set the trays on top of the trash can.

  I grab all of her bags in one hand and wrap my other arm around her shoulder.

  “Thanks for today. I really did have a good time. Are you going to be at the party tonight?”

  I’ve missed out on the last few, trying to keep focused on my classes. Since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’ll go to this one.

  “Sure.”

  As we’re about to leave, I pass by a store that makes me stop and stare. A watch shop.

  “Callan?” Wil asks. “Why’d we stop?”

  “I just remembered.”

  I’ll never see that watch again.

  The watch that Heath was supposed to give me the night he disappeared. Wherever that watch is, it’s lost with him.

  “It’s nothing.”

  She frowns at me and she looks like she wants to ask, but she lets it go. But as we get back in the car, I can’t help thinking back to that night, like I have so many times in the past six months.

  “I can’t believe I have to room with Silverstone,” Vincent yells angrily. “Of all the fucking guys.”

  “That’s just the way it goes, man. Heath didn’t do it on purpose, chill.”

  “Ty, want to switch with me?” Vincent asks, elbowing Tyrell in the arm.

  Ty blinks twice. “No. Don’t ask again.”

  Vincent scratches his head. “Okay. Can’t say I wasn’t fucking expecting that. What about you Noel?”

  Noel snorts. “Absolutely
fucking not. He’s the type that wouldn’t leave the room for the night if I had a lady over. He’d just sit there and fucking watch. Tyrell isn’t like that, right buddy?” Noel claps him on the back and Ty doesn’t look enthused.

  “I’m going to sleep before the party. No one wake me up for any reason, whatsoever.” I head up the stairs, close my door and flop on my bed. Luckily it’s a single. My brother knows I don’t get along with just anyone.

  I set an alarm on my phone for eight. As I’m about to lock it, I check social media and see a bunch of posts with my grandfather’s picture on them. Why are these still showing up on my timeline? His funeral was over two weeks ago.

  My mom’s father. Unlike my father’s father, he didn’t believe I was a failure. He always told me I had potential to do great things. He told it to my siblings and I equally, not just one of us.

  A kind man, and he’s in the ground from one stroke.

  While my other grandfather is in wonderful condition and he’s fucking older.

  He can keep whatever that asshole gives him when he dies, but I deserve to have something from my mother’s father. While he was a rich man, he left everything to my mother. Not that she’s in need of anything because my father gives her whatever she wants. But her father was a sucker for my mom.

  He left his prized watch to the three of us. Naturally, my father gave it straight to Heath.

  But I want it.

  He’s been putting off giving it to me for long enough. Should’ve fucking given it to me this week. Instead he’s been running around with her.

  Last night was priceless. With any luck, she’ll be crying to her parents and be on the next plane out of here.

  I fall asleep to the flash of pink.

  When I wake up, I text him about the watch one last time, telling him he needs to be here by three AM no matter what. He responds with a thumbs up and a text saying he’ll be here and he has something to talk about with me too.

  Good.

  On the other side of the door, music enters the air and it steadily grows louder. Guess the party is starting.

  I knock on Tyrell and Noel’s door and get no response. Then I knock on Vincent’s hoping to God I don’t have to see Silverstone’s face.

  Neither of them answer.

  Where the fuck are they?

  Well, I know where Vincent went. He’s forever following Ashlynn around like a puppy. He went to ZDB.

  Noel will follow the women. He could be anywhere. It’d be most convenient for him to go with Vincent to ZDB.

  Which means, Tyrell went with them.

  Well, I refuse to go.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight I want to actually enjoy myself.

  I get down the stairs and go into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the tap and drain my cup. It’s good, just not what I’m craving.

  I grab a fresh bottle of tequila from the counter and take a swig.

  Fuck yes. That’s it. That burn sliding down my throat is nice.

  “Callan,” a voice says.

  God, I’d know that fucking voice anywhere. I wanted to have fun tonight. Not party with her attached to me like a remora.

  I turn around to find Ginger. She has heavy black eyeliner around her eyes, so thick she looks like a fucking raccoon. Her orange hair falls around her shoulders and she has a black headband on.

  “I’m ready,” she purrs.

  I back away quickly and take another swig. “Ready for what?”

  Most girls follow my brother around the moment they see him. But Ginger? Ginger is different. My brother doesn’t exist in her eyes. She’s been trying to get me to sleep with her since high school.

  The only reason she hasn’t is because she hasn’t been able to follow my one rule.

  I made it up on the spot as a way to stop her from getting in my pants, but by the excited look in her eyes, she’s finally done it. In my brother’s image, a girl can only sleep with me if she drinks a bottle of Jose Cuervo, while his is a bottle of Absolut.

  “Give me the Jose Cuervo.”

  Fuck.

  Think and think fast.

  I turn around and grab the new bottle and hold it in front of her. She grabs it with her hands and pops it open. I can’t count the number of times she’s attempted this. She has to just be overconfident.

  I eat my words when she finishes the bottle in fifteen minutes.

  She slams the bottle on the counter and leans into me with a pink face and hazy eyes.

  “It’s time,” she slurs, “you, me, your bed. Now.” She jumps at me and I grudgingly hold her in my arms.

  I bring her up the stairs to my room and she flops on the bed. “I made it!” she yells excitedly, putting her arms in the air.

  “Now fuck me Callan. Fuck me right fucking now.” She’s too anxious to get my dick inside her.

  “Ginger,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my face and leaning against the door. What the fuck do I do? I don’t want my dick anywhere near her.

  “I did it fair and square. You owe it to me now. You owe…” She blinks slowly and her eyes slide closed.

  “Ginger?” I stride over to her and lean my head down to her chest to make sure she’s still alive.

  Her heart is still beating.

  I move back and watch her face and the slow rise and fall of her chest.

  Lucky. Thank fuck I got lucky tonight.

  I stay in the room for a long time, on my phone and when a respectable time passes, I leave the room and go downstairs.

  The rest of the night, I spend listening to music and drinking until I’m buzzed.

  Heath never shows up. When I call his phone, it goes straight to voicemail. Who knows how long it’s has been turned off?

  Hours later, after everyone’s either left or passed out on the floor, I’m in my room listening to a sleeping Ginger when I get the text from Collette with the picture.

  Heath Goldsworthy is dead.

  What the fuck?

  She calls me a second later, uncontrollably sobbing and telling me the last time anyone saw him, he was with Wil in her room, and they were fucking.

  It’s too much of a coincidence that one week into her existence in my brother’s life, this happens. She has to be partly if not fully responsible.

  Princess or not, she’s going to pay. She won’t get away with this.

  “Callan, are you going to get out of the car?”

  Blinking quickly, I gaze past her and notice we’re sitting in front of ZDB. By the looks of it, the party’s already started by the loud music and the people loitering outside.

  I turn the car off. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  If I’m being honest with myself, it’s been almost six months. I’ll never see Heath or that watch again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mera

  I walk inside ZDB and go straight for the alcohol. Every party I’ve been to since that first one, and there’ve been several I decided to attend, I haven’t had a drink. I’ve been too nervous to, afraid that somehow something terrible will happen again and I won’t be able to remember.

  But tonight, I need it.

  I had a great day with him at the mall. I didn’t expect us to spend Valentine’s Day together. I try not to expect anything of him so I don’t get disappointed. It’s hard when he shuts down on me out of nowhere. The minute he got in the car he was back to being ice cold and distant. He’s only acted that way a handful of times since we got back from Kardenia, each time I want to tell him he can talk to me, but how can I expect him to open up when I still haven’t told him about the notes?

  There’s so many of them now, the bottom drawer of my nightstand is full to the brim. I’ve gotten used to the threats on my life. Their new thing is to threaten Callan’s.

  Every day I’m tempted to throw them all in a bag and show him.

  But they’ve made it very clear, if I tell Callan he’ll die just like Heath did.

  This is their way to make me suffer.

  So tonight,
I drink.

  I grab the bottle of Absolut from the counter, pour a shot and throw it back.

  “Hand me the Jose Cuervo, Wil,” I hear Callan say behind me.

  His eyes are cold as they look from the bottle of Absolut to me.

  I pick up the brand new bottle of Jose Cuervo, and just as he opens his hand to take it, an orange blur snatches it away.

  Gritting my teeth, I watch Ginger shake the bottle. “Callan, this time I won’t fall asleep.”

  Rage fills his eyes and he thrusts his hand forward to snatch it away from her. She moves her hand back, moving it behind her back and shakes her finger at him. “No, no, no, Callan. You know the rules. I finish this, we go find a room.”

  “Ginger, I’m not doing that anymore. That game is over with,” he says in a dangerously low tone. “Hand me the fucking bottle.”

  She turns around and tilts her head back, keeping the bottle straight and letting the liquid slide down her throat.

  She stops after a few seconds, coughing hard.

  She’s halfway there. Fucking hell.

  I glance at the counter and notice two more bottles of Jose Cuervo.

  A sense of deja vu washes over me as I grab the bottle in my hand.

  “Wil,” Callan says with a sigh. “You don’t need to do that. I’m not going anywhere with her.”

  Her eyes widen as she watches me unscrew the cap. “Just let me do it. I can do it.” And I’ll have to do it fast.

  I put the bottle to my lips and gulp it down, feeling the burn as it goes down my throat. My face feels hot as I close my eyes and keep drinking.

  Vaguely, I hear her trying to gulp it down.

  I stop to take a breath, gasping for air, and looking at the bottle. A fourth to go. I haven’t drank anything this fast in a long time.

  I only had a few glasses of alcohol at the Christmas Eve ball.

  I refuse to be outdone.

  I gulp the rest of it down, and slam the bottle on the counter at the same time she does.

  She screeches, “No! I did it first. I finished my bottle first.” She slams her hand on the table and screams, “He’s going with me!”