Hurting You

by Beck, J. L.

  Contents

  Hurting You

  1. Stella

  2. Cameron

  3. Stella

  4. Easton

  5. Stella

  6. Cameron

  7. Stella

  8. Easton

  9. Stella

  10. Cameron

  11. Stella

  12. Easton

  13. Stella

  14. Cameron

  15. Stella

  16. Easton

  17. Stella

  18. Cameron

  19. Stella

  20. Easton

  21. Stella

  22. Cameron

  23. Stella

  24. Easton

  Epilogue

  BONUS EPILOGUE

  Next in this Series

  About the Authors

  Also by the Authors

  Jenna Reed

  Hurting You

  It was such a shame that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  She knew that we would come for her.

  We had seen her delicate face that night, hidden in the shadows, and she had seen what we did, her gasp of horror giving her away.

  She was perfection, beauty, and oozed goodness, but that wasn’t going to save her from us.

  No one could ever find out our secret, which meant we needed to get rid of her.

  But killing her wasn’t an option, and scaring her into silence wasn’t as easy of a feat as we expected. She was strong, resilient, and smart, doing whatever she could to evade us.

  Thus, without even knowing it, she turned it into a game, and so we became bloodthirsty wolves.

  Run, and we’ll find you. Keep our secret, and you might live.

  That is until someone else finds out what we did…

  1

  Stella

  Pushing the trash down one last time, I pull up the sides of the bag and make a knot with the plastic flaps. I can’t believe I almost forgot this one. Paul would have had a mental breakdown in the morning if I had left the trash in here.

  It takes pretty much all the strength I have to lift the full bag out of the bin, so instead of carrying the sucker out, I decide to drag the heavy thing behind me. Hopefully, it won’t leave scratches on the university’s pristine cafeteria floors. I need this job too badly to get in trouble for something stupid.

  It’s eerie here without all the students. The huge space is so quiet and empty, but yet, I prefer it over seeing all the rich kids walking around inside. I try really hard not to be jealous, but it’s not that easy. All-day long I have to look at these people who have everything I’ve ever wanted. A family, an education, and a chance at a good life. And the worst part is that they don’t even seem to appreciate what they have.

  I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve overheard someone here complaining about the most ridiculous things. Being upset about a store being out of the newest designer shoes or handbags. Not getting the special edition sports car that they wanted. Having to wait an extra day to get their hands on the newest iPhone… the list goes on. Every complaint more absurd than the next.

  Meanwhile, I’m working my ass off just to make ends meet. With my parents gone and my grandma suffering from dementia, all the responsibility for my grandma falls onto me. With that, comes a stack of bills every month and that is the reason I didn’t go to college, even though I had the grades and the ambition to go. Instead, I took any job I could get right after I got out of high school just so I could support Grams and myself.

  When I finally make it to the back door of the cafeteria, my arms are sore from dragging this heavy-ass bag. What the hell do they throw in here? Concrete blocks? I push open the heavy metal door and step out into the crisp evening air.

  It’s dark outside, and the wind is cold as it whips against my skin, but I enjoy the freshness of it after being stuck inside all day. Reaching the dumpster, I try to figure out how to get this overstuffed trash bag lifted into it without breaking my back. Grunting, I lift it with all my might, but barely get it off the ground. Damn thing.

  A sound from behind me has me jumping out of my skin, and I gasp quietly. It’s probably just a raccoon or something. With my heart jackhammering in my chest, I sneak a peek around the dumpster to check, but there’s nothing…

  Another sound, this one sounding more like a grunt, which is definitely not a raccoon, causes my curiosity to pique. I should have remembered the saying; curiosity killed the cat…

  Leaving the trash sitting on the ground, I tiptoe around the dumpster to peek around the corner of the building. I know I shouldn’t be sneaking around, but this is literally the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in weeks.

  Except it’s not quite excitement that I feel when I look around the corner. It’s more like dread and fear. The blood in my veins turns to ice, and the air in my lungs stills at the sight before me. Two guys are lifting a third guy into the trunk of a car.

  My head conjures up all kinds of explanations. The guy is drunk… just passed out. It’s probably a prank… no way did I walk in on a murder.

  One of the guys shuts the trunk and turns to his friend, asking leisurely, “Where are we going to dump his body?”

  A loud gasp leaves my lips before I can stop it from coming out. My hand flies to my mouth to cover it, but it’s too late. Both men turn to me, staring at me as I stand there, probably realizing that I just witnessed what they did.

  A beat passes, then another, and we just stare at each other. My body is petrified with fear as I take in the two guys before me. They’re both tall, looming above me by at least a foot, and muscular like athletes. They’re also well-dressed, leading me to believe that they’re some rich kids. I’m positive I’ve seen them before, and I am one-hundred percent sure they go to school here. Even with the dim lighting above, I can tell that one of them is blond with piercing green eyes, the other one is brown-haired with dark eyes.

  Without realizing it, I get lost in those dark brown eyes, their depth sucking me in, letting me momentarily forget where I am and what I’m doing.

  “Stay here, I’ll take care of this one,” brown-eyed guy states to his friend, and suddenly, I snap out of it. The trance he has on me is broken, and just when I thought I couldn’t get any more scared, he lunges for me. His long legs taking huge strides toward me. Shit. As if my brain is finally catching up with my body, knowing damn well if I don’t start moving, I’ll become just like that guy in the trunk, I unfreeze.

  Without thought, I turn and bolt. I don’t know where I’m going, all I know is that I need to get away. My feet pound against the pavement, and my lungs burn as I force my legs to push me harder than they ever have before. I wish the ground would swallow me whole and take me away from this place and the guy who is about to take care of me.

  Refusing to look back, I sprint through the dark night, hoping and praying that I’m fast enough to get away. Hoping for my life, and for my grandma’s life, that I can survive tonight.

  2

  Cameron

  Fucking shit! No one was supposed to be here. How did we not hear her coming? Like a mouse, she remained hidden watching us for god knows how long. Forcing my legs to go faster, I chase after the chick who just witnessed us throwing James’ dead body in Easton’s trunk.

  Though her face was hidden in the shadows, I know she is young from the way she runs, the way her long silky blonde hair falls behind her, and the way her ass moves with every stride. I’ll bet she has a pretty face too, and soft lips.

  Too bad I have to kill her now.

  My dad might be the chief of police, but there is only so much he can do to keep me out of jail. I have to take care of this one myself, and that means I can’t leave a witness. I’ll have to make her disappea
r.

  With each second, I close in on her. She might be fast, but I’m faster and stronger. Before I know it, I’m catching up with her. I can hear her breathing, each gasp entering her lungs. Once I’m directly behind her, I reach out my fingers circling her slim arm, pulling her backward, and into my chest. Like a banshee, she lets out the loudest shriek possible, so loud that, for a moment, my ears start to ring.

  Struggling, she tries to pull away, but I just tighten my grip and fling her onto the grassy area beside us. Before she can get up, I climb on top of her, straddling her torso. Using my arm, I push my elbow to her throat and slap my free hand over her mouth.

  I have to give it to her, she is a fighter, like a bucking bronco she struggles beneath me. Her nails rake out and cut across my arms, shoulders, and neck. She’s fighting as if I’m about to kill her. Then again, I guess that’s why I chased her down. She’s a tiny little thing, short, with not much meat on her bones.

  Her nails sink deep into my forearm, and I let out a hiss between my teeth. Before she can do any real damage, I release her throat, and gather up her arms, tucking them between our bodies. Lowering myself onto her body, I immobilize her completely. For some reason, I get a thrill out of it. My cock hardens to steel in my jeans, and a rush of euphoric pleasure fills my veins.

  With my face mere inches from hers, I brush some blonde strands of hair that are stuck to her clammy forehead away. She smells like fear, but beneath that, I catch a hint of vanilla, and something sweet. Like a curtain being pulled back, I get my first real good look at her.

  Focusing my attention on her face, I stare blankly at her. Her eyes are wide, fear and terror pooling within them, while big fat tears fall from the corners. Even scared shitless, she is beautiful, absolutely stunning. I can’t quite make out the color of her eyes in the dim light, which only adds further to her appeal.

  She is like a mystery to me. Pandora’s box. There is something about her, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. But whatever it is, it intrigues me. Dreadfully, I’m reminded that I won’t be able to explore my interest in her. Turns out we met at the wrong place, and the wrong time, and now I need to get rid of her, not figure her out.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. No pain,” I try to soothe her, but my words only frighten her more. Her lips quiver under my hand, and her whole body shakes, tremors of fear own her. She tries to say something, but her words are nothing more than a low mumble with my hand placed over her mouth.

  My own heart hammers in my chest. It isn’t like I do this all the time. Hurt people, chase girls down, and snap their necks, and had it not been for her seeing what we did, I wouldn’t even think about doing this.

  “You want to say something?” She nods as much as she can within my hold. “Are you going to scream if I take my hand away? Because if so, I’m going to have to hurt you.” Who am I kidding? I’m going to have to hurt her anyway.

  Shaking her head frantically, she pleads with me with nothing more than her eyes, and because I’m a glutton for punishment, I slowly lift my hand.

  Truthfully, I’m not sure why I do it, maybe because I want to hear her voice and see if it’s as beautiful as her face, or maybe because I want to give her a chance to speak her peace. Either way, I remove my hand, setting myself up for failure.

  As soon as her full lips come into view, she starts talking. “Please, don’t kill me. I swear, I won’t say a word to anybody. I really didn’t see anything. Please…please, please. I take care of my grandma, and she doesn’t have anyone else. Please,” she begs for her life, and all I can do is watch her swollen lips move while she talks. So pretty, so kissable. I want to taste them. I don’t understand why I’m so taken with her.

  “What’s your name?” I ask her even though I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t let her talk either. I shouldn’t even look at her. All of this is going to make it ten times harder to kill her.

  “S-Stella,” she tells me through trembling lips.

  Stella…

  “W-what’s y-your name?” she stutters, her eyes darting around, and I can’t help but smile at her effort to be brave.

  “I probably shouldn’t tell you that, sweetheart.”

  Hope blooms in her eyes, “Does that mean you’re not gonna kill me?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I say, only then realizing that indeed I am unsure if I can kill her anymore. Surely Stella will squeal, and I couldn’t blame her if she did. If I were in her shoes, I’d be pissing myself. Imagining my hands wrapping around her slender neck and squeezing the life out of her has my stomach-churning. Can I kill an innocent? I just watched James die, and I feel no remorse, but he was a disgrace to humanity, so I probably did the world a favor by letting him go. She, on the other hand, is a different story.

  Then again, what is the alternative? Easton and I going to jail for the rest of our lives? Can I spare her life and endanger ours? Could I harm her just to keep my ass out of prison and my family name out of the gutter?

  I don’t know…

  Rolling off her, I move to a standing position and pull her up with me. I doubt she’s going to walk back with me to Easton. In one swoop, I pick her up and throw her over my shoulder. She weighs hardly anything, which only adds to the guilt of hurting her. How can I kill some innocent girl, who is half my size and weight?

  “What… what are you doing?” she asks, her voice frantic. Her hands slap against my back before she starts fisting the material of my sweater.

  “I guess we’re gonna take a vote on if you’ll live or die,” I say as I carry her back to the car. To my surprise, she goes limp. I half expected her to be scratching my back, kicking her legs out, and maybe screaming. But instead, her limp body hangs over my shoulder as she lets me carry her like a sack of potatoes. I don’t even think she is crying anymore.

  Has she given up? As soon as I walk around the corner and Easton comes into view, he gives me a questionable look.

  “Did you kill her?” he asks once we’re within earshot.

  “Not yet.” At my words, I can feel Stella’s grip on my sweater tightening. Okay, so she still has a little fight in her.

  “I’m going to be sick,” her strained voice meets my ears. “Please let me down. I think I need to throw up.”

  Not wanting her to puke all over me, I place her back down on her feet. As soon as I do, she tries to get away, but I keep an iron grip on her wrist.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I growl.

  She takes a few steps before doubling over, vomit pouring from her mouth and all over the ground. I keep hold of one arm, pulled back, while she uses her free hand to steady herself on the side of the dumpster.

  Easton walks up to us, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. I know immediately what he is thinking because it’s the same thing I’m thinking. Bent over like this, her perky ass is pushed out, and it’s hard to ignore how perfectly shaped it is. Round and yet firm.

  He gathers her long blonde hair and pulls it back to keep it out of her face while she’s puking her guts out. After she empties the entire contents of her stomach, or what seems to be all of it, and is done heaving, she slowly straightens back up.

  Using the sleeve of her shirt, she wipes her watering eyes and mouth.

  Easton releases her hair, and I watch the silky strands fan out over her shoulders. Then he pats her on the back, and with a low chuckle, says, “Good job, sweetheart. Puking just saved your life.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I look at my friend. Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, he grabs her other arm and starts pulling her toward the car. I let go of her and let him take over. Obviously, he has some kind of plan I don’t know about yet.

  “What are you doing?” she asks when they reach the car.

  “Give me your hands,” Easton orders. She hesitates but holds out her hands after a moment. I watch curiously as Easton grabs both and pulls them to the trunk of the car, making her touch the metal around the lock. With a grin, he says, “Now your
fingerprints are on the car, and you’ve left your DNA at the scene of the crime.”

  “I… I didn’t. I wouldn’t tell anyone…” Her eyes are wide and frantic as she looks between the two of us.

  “This ensures our safety and yours. We go down, so do you, and believe me when I say this…” Easton leans into her face, and even I can feel the darkness in his voice, “If you try and pin this on us. If you tell the police any of this, we won’t just kill you. We’ll do way worse. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll wish you were dead.”

  Easton’s threat hangs heavy in the air, and looking at Stella’s expression, I think she is trying to figure out if he is serious or just trying to scare her. Soon she’ll realize that he means everything he just said.

  People at Blackthorn know Easton as the pretty boy who gets more ass than a toilet seat, who has good grades and likes to spend his free time at the local strip club getting lap dances. But there is a darker side to him too. A side that most people don’t know or have ever seen. He’s vicious and cruel when he needs to be, and if our lives are on the line, then he’ll do whatever he can to protect us.

  “What were you even doing back here anyway?” I ask curiously. She looks to be our age, but I know she doesn’t go to school here. I would’ve definitely noticed her way before now if she did.