Noble Savages: A Dark Bully High School Romance Multi-Author Box Set

by Kent, Rina

  How can someone so gorgeous be the embodiment of the devil?

  I start towards the exit. “I’m telling the principal.”

  “Sure thing, princess. While you’re at it, tell him you painted my car’s windshield.”

  I come to a screeching halt and fold my arms. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He pushes off the door and it’s like he gained height. He’s become all broad and stiff and…

  Threatening. Intimidating.

  All humour vanishes from his face as if I was imagining all the smirks and nonchalant behaviour.

  It’s scary how much he masters his emotions, what to show and what to hide, when to stalk and when to attack.

  Something undecipherable shines in the depth of his eyes and they turn another completely different shade of blue.

  Deadly blue.

  The type of blue that's infested with sharks,

  I keep my position, refusing to let him affect me. But that doesn’t stop my limbs from screaming at me to step back.

  Levi King isn’t someone I want to play games with.

  One more year.

  If I stay out of trouble and finish this year peacefully, everything will be over.

  Any type of conflict will destroy my invisibility game.

  Despite my pride, I step back, matching his wide relentless strides. The air ripples with crackling tension that grips me by the gut. With every step forward, my heart hammers against my ribcage. I feel like the stupid little deer who lost her way from the herd and got herself stuck with a hungry, relentless predator.

  My shins hit the easel and I yelp. I grit my teeth at the effect I’m letting him have on me.

  “Stop!” I thrust both my palms against his chest and push him.

  I might as well be pushing a buffalo.

  A very toned one with hard ridges and pectorals and the whole thing.

  He doesn’t move back. Not even a step. If anything he leans closer into my personal space. So close that my hands are the only thing stopping his chest from crushing against mine. So close that he becomes tenfold more beautiful. So close that I smell cigarette and chocolate cheesecake on his breath.

  Wait. Is that on me from this morning’s breakfast? Because if this bully likes cheesecake, too, then I’m retiring from the food.

  “What do you want, Levi?”

  “It’s King to you.”

  “No, thanks. You have a name, why does everyone call you by your last name?”

  “You don’t ask the questions, princess. You only answer mine, understood?”

  I can’t believe the arrogance of this bastard. But then again, he’s had the school at the palm of his hands for two years, why wouldn’t he think everyone would bow down to him?

  “What do you want, your majesty?”

  He tilts his head at the sarcastic note and I jut my chin upwards. He looks down at my palms on his chest as if contemplating something.

  Before he can get any wild ideas, I remove my hands with a jerk.

  Big mistake.

  Levi advances into me like the bull from earlier, and I have no choice but to step over the easel and move back. My back hits the wall and a shiver draws down my core.

  Why the hell do I keep getting myself into corners with him?

  Levi slams his hand on the wall beside my head with his face mere inches from mine. My air supply comes in and out in short bursts. I can’t even breathe properly, afraid that this time my throbbing chest will surely become one with his.

  “I told you what I want.” His voice drops to a dangerous, low range. “But what did you do?”

  I fold my arms both to stop his chest from grazing mine and to control the hammering of my crazy heartbeat.

  My gaze trails in the opposite direction, refusing to meet his eyes. If I do, I have a feeling they’d swallow me whole and never let go.

  “I said.” His thumb and forefinger squeeze my chin, forcing me to face him. “What did you do?”

  I gulp against the feel of his skin on mine. The calloused, long fingers bring back memories of that night.

  Hit-and-run night.

  For the first time in months, the memories aren’t gory and gruesome like in my nightmares.

  No.

  It’s entirely different.

  These memories consume me like a case of drugs gone wrong — or maybe it’s gone right.

  Goosebumps form on my skin at the memory of how good it felt to be touched by him.

  How he elicited those desperate, foreign sensations in parts I thought didn’t exist.

  This same devil made me feel like no one did before.

  No. That was Ecstasy. Anyone could’ve touched me and it would’ve felt good.

  Only now, I’m under no drug influence and I might as well be. Tingles draw down my spine, and I have no way to fight them off.

  All I can do is show him that he can’t get through me.

  “I told you I’m not meeting you. It’s not my fault you assumed otherwise.”

  He raises one perfect, thick eyebrow. “Is that why you painted my car?”

  “That was for humiliating me in front of the entire school.”

  “That’s nothing compared to what I can do to you. Be a good little princess and I’ll let everything blow over.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to go there.” Something menacing and sadistic shines in his gaze. It’s like he wants me to defy him so he can take sick pleasure in crushing me.

  That’s his type, isn’t it? They’re so rich and entitled and bored. So they make it their job to step on anyone in their path to fend off their boredom.

  If he steps on me just because he’s bored, I’ll make his life a living hell.

  He releases my chin, and I hate how the place his fingers touched feel empty and tingling at the same time.

  “I heard you’re not dropping the accident with the police.” His tone turns dispassionate.

  “You know about that?”

  Aside from Dan and the odd student here and there, I didn’t think my non-fatal accident meant much to RES, especially not to the point that Levi would know about it.

  My invisibility game must be getting too weak.

  “Drop it,” he says in that infuriating authoritative tone.

  “Huh?”

  “Stop going to the police station, stop digging your nose around. Drop. It.”

  “Are you out of your mind? You want me to let a criminal who left me to die off the hook?”

  “You look fine to me.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” A potent fire shoots through my veins. “While you were having fun in your stupid summer camps, I spent my days in physical and mental therapy. Bet none of you thought I’ll come back, but I’m here now and I’ll make anyone who made me suffer pay. So don’t you dare stand there and have the audacity to tell me to drop it. That will never happen, King.”

  I pant after my outburst. My ears and face are on fire and my entire body is stiff, but I don’t back down from his demonic stare.

  It actually feels super good to give him a piece of my mind. Screw him if he thinks he can make me give up on my justice.

  Something undecipherable flashes on his face as he steps back with his head tilted in that assessing, unnerving way.

  “I’ll play the game. Think carefully because this is the only time I give up the first move. What will make you give up?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing, huh?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “Tell me, princess, is your sense of justice more important than everything else?”

  I lift my chin. “Of course.”

  The unnerving silence returns as he measures me from the top of my head to my shoes. It’s not in a sexual way, though. He’s like some hitman assessing which way will kill me faster and with less hassle.

  When he meets my eyes again, they’re darker than a few seconds ago.

  B
lack.

  Lethal.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Dread tightens my stomach. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means…” He taps my nose twice with an easy smile that would’ve made him appear welcoming if I didn’t already know that a devil lurks inside him.

  “Break or I’ll do it for you, princess.”

  Chapter Nine

  Levi

  You were caught in a crossfire where I could only win.

  * * *

  “Do you know what happened?”

  I stop at the foot of the stairs and smooth my RES’s jacket. And by smooth, I mean, unbuttoning the shit out of it and making myself look like the school’s charity case.

  The sound of Uncle’s voice puts me in a sullen mood. Shouldn’t he be already out to ruin some lives?

  “Tell me, Aiden.”

  “Yeah, tell him, Cousin.” I breeze into the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator, not sparing either of them a glance.

  “Morning to you as well, punk.” Uncle shoots the words like rapid fire.

  I grab a bottle of milk and don’t bother with a glass as I gulp half of it down. The cold liquid soothes my throat after drinking last night.

  We have a dining room down the hall, but we don’t bother using it for meals. It’s only a place for Uncle’s gatherings where he can show off his wealth.

  Once I swallow, I wipe the side of my mouth and lean against the marble counter, facing Jonathan and Aiden. They sit side by side at the kitchen bar.

  Looks-wise, Aiden is a carbon copy of his father. He shares his jet black hair and the emotionless dark grey eyes — the King’s signature. Mine came out light and wrong because of Mum’s genes.

  A chessboard sits between them made of crystal glass and black stones. Only a few moves were made. They’re probably picking up an old game. Jonathan and Aiden take weeks to finish a chess game.

  Normal families speak about their day. Ours is all about fucking each other over in a chessboard war.

  “So what are we talking about this morning?” I tilt my head. “Aside from the usual banter of screwing my life, I mean.”

  Jonathan pushes the plate of scones away as if my mere presence spoilt his food. “You’re screwing your own life. If you choose to be nothing, you’ll be nothing, Levi. How about you be something different for a change?”

  “Do say what something means in your definition, Jonathan. Spoiler alert. If that includes following your steps, then I’ll pass.”

  “You’ll lose the attitude in front of me.” His eyes darken and so does his voice. “I raised you when your mother threw you at your father’s feet. I continued to raise you when your father couldn’t.”

  My grip tightens around the bottle of milk until it almost cracks. Still, I keep the carefree tone. “If by raising me, you mean, you spent money on me, then no thanks to you. My father was a King, too.”

  “A useless one at that.” Jonathan deadpans as if he’s talking about a pet he disliked instead of his flesh and blood. “This family doesn’t need worthless members. If you use the King’s name, then give back what you use.”

  “Such as?” I tilt my head.

  He mirrors the gesture. “Study at Oxford.”

  “Pass,” I say as nonchalantly as I can and take another swig of milk.

  Aiden shakes his head, shooting me a disapproving glance, then he goes back to cutting and eating his bacon as if he’s all alone in the kitchen.

  Screw him and his father.

  Jonathan stands and buttons his pressed, dark blue jacket. “Our deal still stands, Levi. If you screw up one more time, your trust fund will be suspended until you’re twenty-five — as per your father’s will.”

  “A will you forced him to write.”

  “You’re lucky I had him leave you something in his state. Do you think he cared about you or your future?” He pauses for a beat.

  Another intimidation method that he taught us. Silence always gets you what you want, he used to say. People are always compelled to fill the silence and it can be used to your advantage.

  “Having me as your guardian is the best thing that happened in your life, punk. You’ll bend to me.”

  I meet his harsh stare with my own. “A king doesn’t bend.”

  “One without a crown does.”

  And then he’s striding out of the kitchen like he already owns half the world and plans to conquer the other half.

  I slam the bottle of milk against the counter and droplets scatter all around. With a long breath, I close my eyes to reign in the onslaught of sweeping anger rolling inside me.

  A year.

  I need shit to stay together until graduation, then I’m leaving Jonathan’s kingdom once and for all.

  “You’re doing it all wrong.” Aiden places his empty plate on the sink beside me. “You think you can take him, but you can’t.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “I don’t make unprofitable bets.”

  He perches over, staring at the board. Jonathan blocked Aiden’s knights, and any moves he makes will cost him either his rook or his bishop.

  Typical Uncle. He always starts by making you lose your strongest defences.

  “Careful there, Cousin.” I raise an eyebrow. “You’re underestimating me.”

  “And you’re underestimating Jonathan. We all have the competitive streak, but he’s been in this game longer than us. How do you think he widened his empire? You’re supposed to back down when he rises so he doesn’t crush you.”

  “If anyone crushes, it won’t be me.”

  “I don’t know if you’re being an idiot or what, but he won’t hesitate about ruining your life. There’s nothing that stops him from stripping you from your inheritance until you’re twenty-five. Are you ready to risk being kicked around for a whole seven years?”

  “Shut the fuck up, Aiden.”

  “Just stating facts, Lev.” He reaches over the counter, grabs an apple and crunches a big bite. “Play smart, not strong.”

  I tilt my head to the side, watching him as he chews on the apple. “You know about what happened that night, don’t you?”

  “Sure do.” He appears completely unfazed, his dead eyes calculating the best way to overthrow his father’s game.

  Since that incident nine years ago, there’s something wired completely wrong about Aiden.

  It’s like the deity took my little cousin and sent us back a demon on his behalf.

  An emotionless, psychopathic demon.

  “Why didn’t you tell him?” I ask.

  “I don’t have a reason to.” He lifts a shoulder. “As I was saying, smarter, not stronger. You can’t dethrone Jonathan King in a game of muscles. A game of wits, however…”

  He leaves it hanging as the corner of his lips lifts. He must’ve figured out a way to protect his defences against Jonathan’s ruthless attack.

  But that will probably put his queen in jeopardy. Not that Aiden cares. He was never shy about bringing out the big guns since the beginning.

  “Do you have anything that ties you to that night?” he asks without ripping his gaze away from the board.

  “I’m killing all ties.” Starting with that damn Clifford princess and her nosing about.

  “Exactly.” He picks up another apple on his way out and throws it my way. I catch it right above my head as he says, “Play the person…”

  “Not the game.” I finish.

  One of the truest things Dad has ever said.

  I catch a ride with Aiden for our early practice because my car needs professional help to remove the paint.

  As we stop in the car park, I catch sight of honey-brown hair flying in the wind. Aiden steps out, but I remain glued to my seat, watching her easy laughter.

  She’s tipping her head back, eyes twinkling with spontaneous energy. It reaches me from across the car park and stirs a dark, unhinged side of me.

  I want to ruin that.

  I need to ruin
that.

  Beautiful things have positive effects on people. Most want to capture such moments and relive them over and over again.

  Not me.

  I itch to burn them and destroy their ashes until nothing is fucking left.

  With Astrid Clifford, that sensation is morphing into something else.

  I’m compelled to turn her life as black as those canvases, but a part of me yearns to feel the stuttering of her breath as I barged into her space uninvited.

  Aiden hangs his arms from my open window. “Are you coming?”

  “Daniel Sterling.” I fix the boy wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they walk inside.

  I have two thoughts about him.

  His arm needs to be broken.

  He should be black, too, for witnessing her laughter.

  Aiden follows my vision. “He’s senior and usually benched.”

  “Or out of practice altogether.” He didn’t show up to practice yesterday, probably not wanting to waste his time on senior year.

  Daniel is the cocky football player type. The type who’s using the game to get his dick wet and to have all the attention that comes with it.

  He’s decent enough and could’ve snatched his place long ago if it weren’t for his half-arsed attempts.

  A smile tugs my lips. Guess who’ll have my wrath during today’s practice?

  One point over Clifford’s princess.

  My phone rings as I reach for my bag. Chris’s number flashes on the screen and I hit ignore.

  I’m not in the mood for his empty excuses.

  He sends a text.

  Chris: Urgent. I have news.

  “What is it?” I answer as soon as he calls again.

  “I overheard my father with his officers,” he’s whispering and seeming out of breath.

  “And?”

  Thanks to the fact that Chris’s father is the deputy commissioner at the Met Police, we were able to avoid prison-trouble all these years.

  “It’s bad.” Chris sounds chilled. “That girl’s doctor said she can remember if she’s put under similar circumstances or shown potential suspects. My old man and his colleagues are contemplating it. He told them to push through with the case because she’s a lord’s daughter. Fuck, King. What if she remembers us?”