Not My Prince: A Dark Bully High School Romance

by L V Chase

  Cin.

  Cin's hand goes to her mouth. "Oh my god. Did your father just beat you?" She steps forward, then freezes when she sees my face. She backs away.

  No, this won't do. I stand taller, spread my shoulders, and slowly approach her, my face a mask. She tries to bolt, but I seize her by one wrist and drag her close to me. She yanks on her arm twice, but my hand's an iron shackle that she can't break free from. Her face flashes fear, then anger. She looks like she's about to swear at me, but I put one finger on her open mouth.

  "Don't test me, Cin. I'm not in the mood."

  I remove my finger from her mouth when she doesn't say anything.

  "That's a good girl," I say. "Now tell me again. What did you see?"

  Cin hesitates. Her eyes go to my mouth. "There's blood."

  "What?" I touch my lips with my free hand. There's a spot of crimson on my fingers. Fucking hell.

  "Nevermind. Listen carefully, Cin. We might have had a rough time since we've met—"

  "Yeah, if that's what you call it—"

  I shake Cin's wrist. "Quiet." I wait to see if she's going to reply, but she doesn't. She can see the rage in my eyes. Good.

  "I was saying, things might have been rough between us, but I fucking guarantee that this will be all sugar and nice compared to what I’ll do if you tell a single soul about what you saw. Understand?"

  Cin nods slowly. She reaches for me with one hand, then stops. "Are you...are you okay?"

  I frown. "Why wouldn't I be? Why, what'd you see?"

  She opens and closes her mouth. "Nothing. I didn't see anything."

  I hold her gaze, trying to see if I can trust her. Word getting out that I got beaten by Dad would be worse, far worse than anything Dad could do with his actual punches or kicks. I've earned respect, fear, a reputation. There's no way I'm letting the others think I'm weak, or worse, letting them feel sorry. I know why I let Dad get away with it, but those fucking idiots wouldn't understand.

  For a moment, I wonder if Cin would try to use this against me. She's probably smart enough to know what this means, why I care that she keeps her mouth shut. I've threatened her, but she's not the type to cower so easily.

  I can always try another way.

  "Please, Cin," I say softly. "Don't tell anyone about this. Please?"

  Cin nods. "I swear, I won't."

  I lean in closer to her face, holding her gaze. The fire's flickering in her green eyes, but it's a different kind of fire, the kind that melts not burns. My face is inches from her now. Her mouth opens slightly, and she leans her head upward to meet me.

  She wants this. I like that.

  As I draw even closer, her eyes flick down to my mouth where I can feel a warm droplet of blood, but she doesn't pull away. She pulls closer. Our mouths meet.

  For a second, we're both hungrily taking in each other. I break apart, though, then touch my lips again. There's another smear of crimson on my fingers.

  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Cin stammers. "I didn't mean to hurt you..."

  I grin, ignoring the sharp sting on my lips. "I'm fine. Remember, you saw nothing."

  "I know," Cin says, but she's not thinking about what she says.

  Her face is confused. She wants more, but she's fighting it. She's a fighter through and through. I'll give her that.

  I step further away letting go of her wrist, which I've been holding this whole time.

  "See you around, Cin."

  20

  Cin

  I plop down next to Jay. The backs of his arms are covered in pastel, though he’s currently digging through the art room’s junk box. Ollie is supposed to be teaching us pointillism, but Heather told him about the chrysanthemums. They both left the room to ooh and ahh over the flowers.

  “I’m going to give you a hypothetical situation,” I whisper. “And I need you to tell me, hypothetically, what you think I should do. And don’t ask me who I’m talking about.”

  “You mean who you’re talking about hypothetically?” Jay asks. “I’ve never been good in a theoretical world. Physics might kill me this year.”

  “Shush,” I say. “So, one of the people who’ve been bullying me—"

  “—That only leaves the entire school.”

  “One of them,” I say. “I just found out that he’s being abused by his father.”

  “Physically? Emotionally?”

  “Does it matter?” I ask. “But, yes, to all of it. Should I…report it?”

  Jay frowns, a baggie of clay dangling in his hand. “Why wouldn’t you? You’d normally be all over this. It’s part of your crusading personality. Cinnamon of Arc.”

  “He threatened me. He said he’d ruin my life if I told anyone.”

  “Nobody in this school can completely ruin your life,” Jay says, shaking his head. “Except maybe a Voss.”

  I rub my knee. “Right, but I’m still worried about it. And it’s not like he’s the nicest guy. I’m not saying he deserves to be abused, but it’s not like I’m swooping in and saving an innocent lamb. I’d be swooping in and saving a wolf, and that wolf doesn’t want to be saved. And his pack is also pretty shitty.”

  “If these people are so powerful,” Jay says, “get it on that gossip site, Peer Review. All these people care about is reputation. Ruin it. Show him you aren’t a pushover.”

  I take the clay from him, squishing it between my fingers. “Maybe.”

  Ollie nearly skips back into the room. “Right! Pointillism! Georges Seurat and Paul Signac cultivated it in 1886, but the critics thought it wasn’t worth being called art.”

  I try to focus, but I replay the scene of Lawrence punching and kicking his son. At my old school, violence is often a guest at students’ homes. I’d heard rumors about abusive parents being visited by the police, but nothing ever came of it, and the kid would end up getting in worse trouble afterwards.

  And those parents didn’t have the deep pockets that Lawrence has. The rich don’t experience consequences, only minor inconveniences. Considering how fucking crazy Lawrence seems, calling the police on him seems more likely to blow things up than solve anything.

  While I have no problem with punishing Lawrence, defying Grayson is too dangerous of a dive into deep waters. Both Grayson and Aurora will graduate this year. They can escape from under Lawrence soon enough. I’m being a busy body, one of those annoying old grandmas.

  I need to focus on my own survival. I’m dealing with my own psychopath, and we have a lesson tonight.

  By the time my morning alarm goes off, I’ve gotten a few hours of sleep, and it mostly revolved around a dream where Grayson actually showed up at our lesson last night. In reality, I must have spent two hours sitting outside the dining hall building, waiting for him to show up and unlock the doors.

  But in my dream, we screamed at each other. We threw insults at each other. We fucked on that metal table he liked to sit next to.

  I’d woken up right before orgasm, my body aching for friction. I slipped my hand under my waistband but stopped myself. I’m not going to touch myself thinking about Grayson. I could consider the dream out of my control, but I’m awake now.

  Fuck.

  I turn off my alarm. I throw my legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring the insistent pulse between my legs. I’ll take a cold shower. It’ll shock my system enough that I’ll remember Grayson for what he really is: affluenza personified, infecting the rest of us with his entitlement.

  There’s a knock on the door. Nobody ever knocks on our door. Nobody is ever visiting me, and Diana always visits her friends instead of them coming here.

  I open the door. Grayson pushes his way into the room, taking the handle out of my grasp and slamming it shut. He shoves me. I stumble back, hitting my back against my bed. He grabs me by the arm, pulling me back up.

  “Are you fucking stupid?” he snarls, grabbing the front of my shirt. His knuckles digging into my chest. “Did your mother get drunk every day she was pregnant with you? Is your brain damag
ed?”

  “It’s fucking seven in the morning,” I say, trying to pry his grip off the front of my shirt. He doesn’t budge. “How the hell do you get so angry this early? Lay off the steroids.”

  “I warned you to keep your mouth shut, and you had to go blabbing. Did you think I was bluffing? Did you think I wouldn’t destroy you?”

  “I didn’t…I didn’t do anything,” I say.

  He reaches into his pocket, taking out his phone. He taps the screen a couple of times and shoves it in front of my face. It’s the Peer Review website. The latest update is in capital letters.

  GRAYSON VOSS BEATEN BY HIS FATHER? AFTER A BRUISE IS SEEN ON GRAYSON VOSS’ FACE, A WITNESS HAS STATED THEY SAW GRAYSON’S FATHER, LAWRENCE VOSS, BEAT HIS SON. WHEN HIS FATHER COMES AROUND, GRAYSON IS NO LONGER THE ALPHA WOLF ON CAMPUS.

  He slides his phone back into his pocket. His fist presses against the center of my clavicle.

  “I didn’t do it, Grayson,” I say. “I swear to God, I didn’t.”

  “You were the only person there,” he says. “Did you think you were being brave? Do you feel like a savior? I don’t go against my father, because he makes me look like a fucking saint in comparison. There are people he’d hurt, really bad, if he gets mad enough. Fucking hell.” Grayson grimaces. “You know how pissed he’s going to be? You know what? You’re done. Pack your bags and get the fuck out of here, because I can’t promise I won’t literally kill you if you stay.”

  It had to be Jay. He almost figured out who we were talking about when we were in class. Maybe he’d figured out the rest. Maybe he already had, and I’d been too self-absorbed to see it.

  “I’d never tell anyone. I know how dangerous it can be—"

  “Then how did this happen?” he asks. “Come on, Cinnamon. Explain it to me. Fucking tell me how it happened.”

  I press my lips together. Jay deserves my wrath, but he doesn’t deserve Grayson’s.

  Grayson sneers. He jabs his fist harder into my chest, shoving me hard against my bed. He abruptly releases my shirt, turning around and throwing the door open. The lack of pressure and heat from his body feels jarring after he’d been so close.

  When he slams the door shut, a gust causes a flurry of papers to scatter throughout the room.

  I find Jay’s number on my phone. I tap on it, holding the phone up to my ear.

  “Hello?” he answers.

  “Why?” I ask. “Why would you do that? I was handling it. It was my problem.”

  Seconds of silence pass by.

  “He needed to be knocked down a peg, Cin,” he says, sounding abruptly tired. “He needed to know you wouldn’t just let him bully you.”

  “All he knows right now is that I told somebody about this,” I say. “And he thinks I released it to a gossip site. You didn’t do this for me. Don’t try to act like my hero. You’re not. You just—I can’t even talk to you. Don’t talk to me again. Don’t even look at me. We don’t know each other.”

  I hang up. I stare at the door Grayson left through. Within an hour, everyone will know that I tried to take down their king.

  It’ll be open season for my head.

  21

  Grayson

  My phone buzzes again. I silence it without looking at who's calling. Dad's already tried to call me four times this morning. Unless it's a big fat coincidence, I know why he's calling, and I know why I won’t answer, not until I deal with this my way.

  I didn't think she had it in her, that little snake. I thought that she was coming around, that she didn't want to piss me off. And to think I was trying to do something nice for once. I should throw her to Brady, show her what a real asshole is like, what I've been protecting her from.

  Fuck Cin.

  I want to break something, hurt someone, do anything. Cin's playing dumb, but she's a nobody. Even if Cin runs her mouth, she can't do anything by herself. You don't waste time dealing with nobodies. Dad taught me that. If someone hurts you, you go straight for the jugular. The real power. The one that made it happen.

  My shoulder slams into someone walking past. Something falls to the floor. Books, folders, I don't care. I brush past everyone in the hall, heading to my destination at the library. I feel their stares as I pass them. I hear their whispers. The bruises on my body burn as a rage fills me.

  I need to see what Ally McCulloch has to say about this. The bitch is probably pleased to take us down a notch. She'll probably get a pat on the head like a good little dog from the rest of her family.

  Our family isn't like the others. We own the media. No one dares to run a story that we don't approve, especially not about us. We've been reduced to cheap tabloid material. It's a sign of weakness, that we aren't in control. We have to nip the bud, now, before anything else happens.

  "Gray!"

  Footsteps run up to me from behind. Only one person would call out to me like that after what's happened. I glance over my shoulder to find Eric jogging towards me.

  "Gray, you okay?" Eric asks.

  I stop. His eyes go up to my face, then down to my body and arms, like he's checking for something.

  "Why wouldn't I be?" I ask coldly.

  A rare look of uncertainty crosses my brash buddy's face. "I don't know. Nothing." He's not an idiot, even if he plays the clown. He can see that I'm on personal business. "I'll catch you later, Gray."

  Eric nods and turns away. I continue on to the library, bursting through the double doors when I arrive.

  "Ally!" I yell.

  No one replies. I make my way to her desk. I spot her red hair peeking out from behind a computer monitor. I'm tempted to grab her by the hair and drag her down the hallway, but I refrain. This is dangerous business. Even if she's something of an outcast among her family, she's still a McCulloch. I need to be careful.

  I walk up to the desk and knock the monitor away. It hits the floor with a loud clatter as a gray cable whips through the air.

  Ally frowns and lowers the book in her hands. Another one of those trashy things. She pushes her black glasses up with her middle finger.

  "This is a library," Ally says. "Please keep quiet."

  "Fuck you, Ally."

  I jerk the table forward. It hits her midsection and pins her against the back of her seat. Her face contorts with outrage.

  "Grayson. Don't you dare touch me. You know who I am."

  I rip the book out of her hands and hurl it as far as I can across the library. It knocks over a display stand.

  "Touch you? Fuck you, Ally. You're the one that came after me first."

  I lean forward on the desk, pushing it against her ribs, just below her flat tits, jamming the edge into her. She scowls.

  "You skinny little bitch," I say. "I could snap you like a twig."

  I kick the desk, not hard, but it's enough to draw a gasp from her.

  "You can't touch me," Ally says. "You know who I am, you bastard."

  I hold up my hands. "I didn't touch jack shit." I bump the desk again with my knee, just a little, and Ally winces.

  I step away from the desk. I can't go too far, even if I want to ram the desk through her chest and break all her fingers so that she can't ever type again. But this is dangerous, maybe even insane or stupid, going after a McCulloch. She came after me first, though. She has to learn that when you poke the tiger, the claws come out.

  Ally pushes the desk away, now that I'm not pressing against it. "I printed the truth, like I always do. Nothing more, nothing less. You know that, Grayson. If you can't handle the truth, that's your problem, not mine." She rests her hands on the table again.

  "Oh, please. You're a gossip bitch. Don't make it sound like you're doing something special."

  I kick the table, hard, but upward, not into Ally. The table jumps, then slams back onto the floor with a boom. Ally snatches her hands off the table. She changes her mind and places her hands on the tables edge, as if to push it away from her.

  I slam both my hands onto the table. "Who told you about me?
Who gave you the story?"

  "I'm a journalist," Ally says. "I don't reveal my sources."

  "You're a shit digger. All you do is dig through shit." I pound the table with a fist. "Who was it?"

  "What're you going to do, anyways?"

  The question makes me pause. What am I going to do? I'm going to find Cin and...

  I don't know. As much as I want to choke Ally right now, I realize that I didn't come here because of her trashy tabloid, not really. I might be annoyed with Ally, but it's Cin who I'm furious with. What I want to know, what's pissing me off the most, is whether Cin lied to me or not. That's why I want to kill someone.

  "None of your business." I stand up straight and step away. "Doesn't matter. I know it was Cin. She'll pay. I'll make her pay."

  I flash Ally a fake smile. I take two steps away from her desk before she says something.

  "It wasn't her."

  I freeze, one foot in front of the other. My fists clench. Is she playing a damn game? Maybe I should turn around and kick that table clean through her fucking ribs.

  "It wasn't Cin," Ally says. "Look. I know you've been giving her hell. She's more than justified to spill this, but it wasn't her. If Cin knew about this and kept quiet, she's better than anybody else at this school. And that's the fucking truth."

  I'm not sure what to say to that, so I leave the library quickly. My phone buzzes as soon as I step into the hallway. This time, I answer it.

  "Yeah," I say.

  "You fucking piece of shit!" Dad screams at me through the phone. "What the hell is this shit I keep hearing about?"

  "I—"

  Dad isn't done. "You worthless, whining, cockless son-of-a-bitch. Are you a man or a spineless pussy? Did you cry afterwards? Find a mommy to change your shit-stained pants? I thought I raised you better. You couldn't handle a little discipline? God, I have enough problems. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is for me? That my son is a sniveling coward?"