Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “I trust you slept well?”

  “Yes, thanks.” I rushed to keep up with her, sweating despite the cool desert morning.

  The halls were beginning to fill with students, and I found myself searching for Xander in the sea of faces.

  “I’m surprised there were any available rooms. Who is your roommate?” She glanced back at me, only vague interest in her expression as we cornered into another corridor and entered the dining hall.

  Apparently, the dorm room question was the rich equivalent of shooting the breeze.

  “I don’t have a roommate.” I braced myself for a disapproving reaction much like Evelyn Gale’s, but this was much worse.

  Mrs. Foster stopped cold, her clacking heels skidding on the tile. “What room did you say you were in?” She drummed her fingers against her legs.

  “214.”

  It was barely noticeable, but her shoulders tensed, and though she seemed like she was trying not to, Mrs. Foster gasped. Her expression turned severe, with tight lines and a sharp dip of her brows.

  “That was—”

  “What? What’s wrong with my room?”

  I searched her face, but she pressed her lips together and, as quickly as the flash of terror appeared, it was gone, smoothed away. She blinked, ironing out the creases in the faint crow’s feet and heavy laugh lines. Again, her fidgety fingers pressed at an invisible wrinkle in her starched pants. My heart bottomed out and I made a mental note to buy a black light and gloves before going back to my room tonight.

  “Nothing.” She kept her eyes forward and forced a tight smile. “As I said, I’m surprised there was a room available.” And that was the end of it, because she flipped her business mode switch back on. “Very good. Our first-year students usually sit there.” She gestured toward two rows of tables in the far back corner. “But, even though this is your first year, since you’re a senior, sit wherever you feel most at ease.”

  So, I guess I’ll sit nowhere then.

  An hour later, after she gave me a packet with a map and a list of facilities and emergency contacts, I was late into the dark lecture hall of my first period. Most of the seats were taken, but from my position at the door I spotted an empty one a few rows from the back and beelined for it. Except, right when I walked up, the guy on the end propped his long leg up on the back of the chair in front of him.

  “Excuse me. Is anyone sitting there?” I whispered and nodded to the chair with all of his junk and flashed him a smile, to which he sighed dramatically. And loudly.

  The professor was a youngish brunette with angry eyes, and thanks to Mr. Laidback, she zeroed in on me.

  “Good of you to join us, Miss...” she trailed off, and I was freaking livid. All I wanted to do was sit down, stick my Airpods in, and get through the rest of the day until I could find out what the deal was with my room.

  “Waters.” I glared at the asshat.

  At which point, I saw him flick his notebook to the floor. “Would you mind getting that for me, new girl?” His brow arched.

  And so it begins.

  I bent over to grab his notebook and... The lights. The snickers. The whistles sounding off along with a few other inappropriate noises about my ass, my pink lace panties, and getting me out of them. I’d completely forgotten about the skirt. I snapped upright and turned to the back of the room.

  There was Xander with two other guys leaning on the wall beside the light switch. It was a complete dick move, but I shouldn’t have been surprised that he still looked like an angel of darkness.

  Just the sight of his tall, lean frame and his summery eyes sparkling over that cocky half-grin rattled my insides. I couldn’t look at him without thinking about how he left me aching for more.

  His eyes moved on me the way I wanted his hands to.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  It took me a second to come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t a nightmare. This was the orchestrated prank by a bully and his peons. I knew just how to handle a bully.

  I kicked asshat’s leg and plowed my way into the row, tossing his junk to the floor and accidentally on purpose kicking his backpack under the chair in front of us. “Oops.” I fluttered my lashes and pouted. “Sorry.”

  On the projector screen there was a slide with a pie graph sectioned in pink and blue with the words “supply and demand” bold at the top center. Thank goodness I studied the syllabus before I got there.

  The professor pursed her lips and began this insane blinking glare. “Welcome, Ms. Waters. Please be on time to my class. I allow one tardy and then I begin to dock your grade.” Her brows waggled for a slight second before she turned back to her computer. “Now, as I was saying, the factors of price regulations...”

  Great.

  I slouched back and fished out my laptop. It illuminated with my favorite picture of me and Honey Bun, my horse. I was just about to pull up a new document when a pen and paper slid onto my keyboard.

  “Word to the wise, she hates bright screens and key-tapping.” A bright-eyed girl with platinum blonde pigtails and sassy red glasses gave me an extra-wide grin. “By the way, I’m Abigail, Abbie, or Abbs, whatever. This is Owen.” She leaned back far enough for me to see a cerebral-looking, slender black guy with lottery-luck bone structure and hazel eyes.

  I waved and smiled, because after last night and just a few seconds ago, I needed some semblance of normalcy in the new, crazy world I’d been dropped into.

  “Thanks,” I mouthed. “I’m Izzy.”

  The rest of class was virtually uneventful, unless you counted some rustling in the row behind me and asshat at the end of the row dropping his phone in the middle of the lecture. Professor Evil glared at him this time. Which I found quite satisfying.

  As the lights went up in a far less embarrassing display and everyone began filing out of the hall, I just sat there. Even though I met Abbie and Owen, I needed less noise—less peopley interaction. This whole boarding part of boarding school was, like the damn skirt, going to take some getting used to.

  “Not gonna lie, I’m starving.” Abbie cracked her neck and faced me, but then her eyes darted right past me to the row behind us, and her mouth went slack. “Uh...well, we’re going to go, but we’ll meet you in the dining hall in five, Izzy.”

  “Okay, cool.”

  It took me a minute to pack away my stuff, but as the crowd ebbed away, my brain smiled its relief. I stood and stretched, then noticed I wasn’t alone.

  Xander and his two friends.

  Right. Behind. Me.

  “Oh. Hi,” I said, tentatively. The word sort of hung out there, as awkward and tiny as I felt. My heart tripped around in my chest and every inch of my body clenched at the memory of him—his touch. Unsure what else to say, really, I just stood there. Nice seeing you again seemed too formal, and please finger fuck me again in the hall while our parents are in the next room didn’t quite feel like it would cut it.

  “Nice stems.” His eyes darted to my legs then back to my mouth before meeting my gaze.

  A tingling swept up the back of my neck, and I could feel a flush brush over my cheeks.

  “Thanks.” My heart was going haywire.

  In the light of day, Xander Gale was even more of a perfect storm. He was sweeping long lashes over heavy-lidded eyes while doing his dark and brooding thing. He didn’t even have to try because it just worked for him despite the preppy, clean lines of his uniform. He was made for the bad boy role, even in the middle of this pristine school—especially, even.

  His friends were a little rougher around the edges, though.

  The three of them were like the Neapolitan ice cream of boy bands with a delicious flavor to satisfy every girl’s sexual fantasy. Xander’s shimmery blond good looks were offset by one guy who gave me all the Clark Kent vibes with dark waves and stark blue eyes. On the other side was a guy, with decadent dark skin, a low-cut fade, and full lips.

  As much as I wanted to hate and scoff at the way they were glari
ng at me, the heat in their eyes translated a little further south than my mouth.

  Ah, the drought, yes. Still intact.

  Xander cleared his throat, and I realized I’d been staring the whole time. I expected more from him. Maybe a wink or an easy nod, but I got nothing but deadpan from my gentleman of yesterday.

  “Ok, well...” I said, hoping he’d fill the awkward silence, but he merely cocked his head and inspected me again. This time from head to toe.

  I did my best to portray an easygoing manner with strong eye contact, pushing my shoulders back, chest out, chin high, but...nothing. On the inside, I was lightheaded, and my chest felt like it was closing in on me.

  “Uh...’kay. Guess I’ll see you later.” Or not.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  XANDER

  “It’s been months. You’re either up to it or not,” Marshall said. His tone was matter-of-fact, but the bass in his voice echoed. He and Jorden were seated across from me at the dining table. Marshall’s narrowed, icy blue eyes were fixed on the door. Unblinking, he chewed slowly, but the way he lifted his chin and bared his throat, I could tell his mind was made up.

  “I’m itching to find out what this next one’s got to offer,” he said.

  I tilted my head and peeked over my shoulder to see Izabelle Waters. She was standing in the middle of the dining hall, looking lost and alone.

  Our eyes locked for a moment.

  I swallowed and turned back to Marshall and Jorden, who were both zeroed in on her. The second they saw her in class, I knew she would be the one they chose. It was my fault. They noticed her because I’d been staring, couldn’t take my eyes off her. That’s when Marshall spotted me, and insisted we turn the overhead lights on her.

  “I’m already on it.” Take the bait. Let me handle her. “As a matter of fact, I laid the groundwork last night. She’s not worth it.”

  Their eyes snapped to mine.

  Jorden cocked his head at me, and a wicked grin played over his mouth. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Hook, line, and fuck her. Toss her out with the rest of the trash in this wasteland.” I bit my sandwich and chewed, careful not to meet Marshall’s eyes. But I felt the weight of his stare. He knew how to read me like no one else. Sensed when I was lying. The perverse side of him reveled in my discomfort. And he homed in on more than lies and secrets. He sensed fresh blood and liked to draw it out.

  “Is that so?” Marshall didn’t seem impressed. I lifted my chin and threw my shoulders back while he studied me for a moment. “Innocent?”

  “I dipped my fingers in for a taste. Tight and wet, but no.”

  He was salivating, and I knew it wouldn’t be enough. “I want a souvenir,” he said.

  For Marshall Landers, my promise to fuck Izabelle Waters and leave her with the rest of the ruins wasn’t sufficient. He wanted a keepsake. A memory to replay should he want to taste her for himself—a gentle reminder should she refuse.

  I wasn’t supposed to give a fuck about her, but I wanted the freedom to feel her out without the pressure of The Crows. I didn’t want to share, and I didn’t need the costly headache that went along with picking up souvenirs.

  “Are we here again? I don’t recall the last one going over so well with the administration.” I felt my brow lift, challenging him. A mistake. “I’m just saying, if Yale doesn’t happen, I’m stuck in this fucking place. I can’t risk it.”

  “Xan, quit bringing up old shit.” Ironically, despite Jorden Battle’s complicit participation in our past ventures, he remained the peacemaker between me and Marshall.

  Marshall straightened and flashed me a rigid smile as he pressed the air with his palms. “No. Xander’s right,” he said to Jorden without taking his eyes off me.

  I crossed my arms and opened my mouth to protest, then stopped short.

  The tension in Marshall’s neck and shoulders was visible as his smile slipped. “Our last attempt to keep The Feed in line didn’t fare well for us. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking. We should allow a new feed to come into our school and rule. Maybe let the administration tell The Crows what we can and cannot do.”

  On the table, I watched as he balled his fists and continued. “While we’re at it, why not leave the innocent out in the meadow? Easy prey, huh, Xander? You know all about that, don’t you?”

  Heat roiled in my belly as I glared at him. I could feel my teeth grinding under the weight of my stiff jaw. Marshall didn’t mince words. When I was too young and stupid to know about keeping your enemies close, I shared too much once. Or perhaps trusted the wrong crow with my father’s little obsession.

  Marshall didn’t have to say it. The only acceptable option was to completely ruin Izabelle and capture the video proof in the process.

  So that’s how you want to play this?

  I cracked my neck, the muscles quivering from holding back my anger. “Fine. I’ll make sure she’s at the party.” I nodded and flipped around on the seat to face Izabelle, who glided toward me.

  When she reached the table, I almost felt bad for her. She had no idea what was coming for her.

  “Hi.” She bit her lip and pushed a wayward curl behind her ear as she scanned the room. “I don’t see my friends. Maybe I can eat with you and your friends?” She flashed a tentative, closed-teeth smile.

  I looked her up and down, then refocused my gaze, wondering how long it would take her to get the message. You don’t belong here. We’re not friends, you don’t know me, and if you’re smart, you’ll keep walking. But she didn’t. She sucked in a breath and fidgeted, seemingly determined to reach me, appeal to my lighter side. I tried not to let my lips curl before turning my back on her.

  She stood there for a few seconds longer then I heard the light click-clack of her shoes as she shuffled away.

  “Nice work. I don’t know what you’re planning, but she better be at the Estrada—” Marshall said, but I didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence.

  “Or what?” I asked, just to fuck with him.

  “Lovely. Death stares to go with my Greek salad.” Honoré stalked up to the table, flanked on either side by the Harding twins. She twirled the tail of her blue-black braid in one hand holding her lunch in the other. “I really do prefer feta over American cheese.” She flashed a glossy, tight-lipped smile and rolled her eyes as if we were boring her.

  “Honoré, Penny, Nic. Always a pleasure.” I addressed them in order of their Raven status, but my gaze was locked on Honoré. “I’m actually glad to see you.” I paused briefly. “There’s going to be a feeding.”

  For a split second, her emerald green eyes went wide as she gasped, then immediately smirked. “Do you have anyone in mind?” She seemed to have trouble swallowing.

  The three of them crossed their arms in unison, while I let it sink in—let them sweat.

  “Oh, please. By all means, do take you time.” Penny, short for Penelope, the older of the sisters, tossed her glossy chestnut mane.

  And of course, Nic, her echo, wouldn’t be left out. She raised a thick, meticulously arched brow. “By all means.”

  As I regaled The Ravens with the details of the plan and their roles in it, I noted the sinister glint in their eyes. Fitting that a group of ravens is called an unkindness or a conspiracy.

  Run while you can, Izabelle.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IZZY

  After my elective period, Abbie and Owen tracked me down on the way to the stables. I was kind of hoping the horses would cheer me up, because I wasn’t in the best of moods after Xander basically pretended I didn’t exist at lunch. Twenty-four hours was a new record—even for me. I’d let a hot guy with multiple personality disorder finger-bang and publicly reject me. It seemed I was destined to be an outsider my whole life, only this time I didn’t have Dad to lean on.

  “What happened to you earlier?” Abbie pushed her red glasses up onto the bridge of her nose and shuffled to keep up.

  With his long legs, Owen was right on str
ide. “Yeah, we looked for you in the dining hall.”

  I sighed, twisted my hair into a massive bun, and stuck a pencil through it.

  “Cute earrings,” Abbie nodded toward my pair of purple topaz studs. “Birthstone?”

  “Yeah, and my favorite color. Thanks. Anyway, about lunch, let’s just say I got a brief intro to this school’s hierarchy.”

  “Let me guess. It wasn’t a coincidence that The Crows were sitting behind us in Harding’s class?” Abbie asked.

  We whipped around a corner and exited the building out onto the west lawn. I could see the stables ahead, and the scent of fresh hay, sweat, and leather wafted toward us. The tension in my shoulders drained as I stopped and faced my two new friends.

  “First of all, Crows? I don’t even know what the deal is with this school. Sorry, academy.” I held my palms up and shrugged. Gah, I hated how I was letting this place get to me. “Seriously, you two are like the only good things about being here. Since I arrived yesterday morning, it’s just been crazy.”

  Both of them opened their mouths and shut them at the same time.

  “What?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer, yet somehow I was aware I might need to hear it. I chewed my bottom lip and gripped my backpack straps.

  Owen flipped his wrist to check the time. “It’s three forty-three. Not enough time, but we have dinner and free time at five. Izzy, what room are you in?”

  “Let’s meet before dinner, though. If what you have to tell me is important, I don’t want to wait. I’m in room 214.”

  Abbie dropped the pigtail she was fiddling with and her mouth went slack, her already pale skin, ashen.

  “Okay, you guys are really scaring me. What’s the deal with my room? Mrs. Foster reacted the exact same way when I told her.”

  Owen scrubbed a hand over his face before exhaling a winded sigh. “Fuck.”

  I was freaking out. I’d been half-joking when I thought about gloves and black lights after Mrs. Foster’s reaction earlier, but now images of chalk lines and/or ghosts flashed through my mind. Everything around me felt like it was moving too quickly. My heartbeat raced, but I was frozen, rooted in place.