Broken Empire: A Reverse Harem High School Bully Romance (Boys of Oak Park Prep Book 3)

by Callie Rose

  We walked slowly across campus, and when we got back to my dorm, he made me put my feet up and take a pain pill. I’d been standing for longer than I should’ve, and all the maneuvering of having sex in a car probably hadn’t helped my leg either.

  The other two Princes came over about an hour later, and we spent the evening studying together. A lame Saturday night, maybe, but it was exactly what I needed.

  If only we weren’t missing a piece.

  I counted down the minutes until Cole’s return on Sunday, and only when he texted me to let me know he was back on campus did my stomach unclench.

  The week seemed to fly by in a blur of homework assignments and exams. We were in the final stretch of classes, and I could feel it. It was like no teacher wanted to be the one who was accused to going too easy on us, so they all rode us extra hard, just to be sure.

  Adena was both better and worse all week.

  She’d gotten what she’d wanted—she had ousted the Princes from their place of power and made half the school think they were little better than trash like me. She’d gotten into Harvard. And she would most likely be voted fucking prom queen.

  Now that she’d achieved her goals, she switched tactics, parading around the school like a gracious queen and offering false magnanimity, congratulating the Princes for getting accepted to schools she obviously thought were inferior to hers.

  I could practically see her salivating with glee as she stood over our lunch table on Wednesday, talking too loudly, her voice too syrupy sweet.

  Mason started to get up, possibly intending to try to decapitate her with a lunch tray, but I grabbed his hand and squeezed. He sank back down beside me, and I let myself enjoy a small moment of satisfaction that real fear had flashed across Adena’s face.

  She was playing with fire taunting the Princes like this. And I was serious about trying to keep them from doing something they’d regret, but that didn’t stop me from indulging in a few daydreams where they tore her limb from limb.

  When she finally summoned her entourage around her with a flick of her wrist and stalked off, Cole let out a low growl.

  “God, she really is the fucking worst,” Leah muttered.

  The very fact that she kept her voice low as she spoke was proof of how far Adena had risen around the school. There was a time the auburn-haired girl would’ve said that and worse to Adena’s face. But now doing so would only be asking for trouble.

  “Yeah.” Mason was staring after the bitch queen with narrowed eyes, working his jaw back and forth. Then he turned to me and asked suddenly, “Do you have a dress you can wear to prom?”

  I blinked. Senior prom would be on Saturday, but it hadn’t even occurred to me to think about going. With all the shit I’d been through at this school, why would I?

  “Um, you want me to go to prom with you?”

  “With us.” He jerked his head at the other three, and I heard Leah squeak, then titter.

  God, I’ll be hearing about this for days. She was back to blowing up my phone with incredibly long text strings, and although I rolled my eyes when she built up a head of steam, I had to admit I’d missed them.

  “To prom? With all of you?” I repeated the question just to be sure I wasn’t crazy.

  “Yeah.” Elijah spoke up from my other side, and there was something I couldn’t quite decipher in his hazel eyes. “You only get one senior prom. You can’t miss it.”

  “I—” I glanced at the other two guys, but they both seemed totally on board with this too. “I don’t have a dress.”

  “We can get you one.” Mason shrugged as if it might as well be taken care of already.

  “What about you? Won’t you have to be home?” I glanced at Cole, anxiety twisting in my gut as I asked.

  “Not that night. My dad said I can stay on campus if I go to the dance.”

  I chewed my lip, considering that. The Princes had ruled this school for several years, and I wondered if some of that had filtered up to their parents too—the prestige, the reputation. Maybe Mr. Mercer was willing to let Cole attend because it would look bad if his son didn’t go. Maybe he just wanted him to put in an appearance and be seen.

  And if he didn’t go, I was willing to bet his dad wouldn’t let him stay on campus.

  “Fine. Let’s go to prom.”

  I glanced around the table as the Princes all grinned at me, their expressions almost fierce. Maggie and Dan were a little wide-eyed, but Leah had gotten over her surprise and was glancing down at her lap as she texted quickly under the table—probably a message meant for me.

  When my phone buzzed on the table a second later, I picked it up and glanced at it before rolling my eyes at her, struggling to contain my blush.

  LEAH: Holy shit!!!! You have four fucking boyfriends.

  When a dress was dropped off on campus for me two days later, I chose not to ask how the hell the Princes had known my exact size. The deep purple gown fit like a fucking glove—not that it mattered, since it also came with a seamstress who had me try it on and made a few quick alterations on the spot.

  It was beautiful, with a single shoulder strap and a wrapped waist that flowed into a long, billowy skirt. It was hemmed to just brush the floor when I was wearing flats since I still couldn’t wear any kind of heels.

  I loved it, except for one thing.

  The shoulder that was left bare was on my left side, and the mark from the seat belt and the jagged pink lines of my healing scars were clearly visible.

  My uniform covered all of that up, so I usually didn’t feel too self-conscious about the remnants of my injuries. But I couldn’t stop myself from brushing a hand over them and making a face in the mirror once the seamstress had left.

  “They kind of ruin the effect.”

  Finn sauntered up behind me, peering over my shoulder to take in my reflection.

  “Nope. They don’t ruin anything.” His large hands fell on my shoulders, and he dipped his head to brush his lips over my skin, making goose bumps spread like ripples in a pond. “And if anybody thinks so, they can just. Fuck. Right. Off.”

  Each word was punctuated with a kiss, and the sweetness of his tone combined with what he’d said made me laugh.

  “Yeah.” I turned my head, my nose practically touching his. “You’re right.”

  With prom looming just a day away though, I started to feel more and more nervous. The guys had convinced me that going to the dance was a good idea, had laid out all their reasons why.

  And I was on board.

  But I was still fucking nervous.

  The dance would be held in the gymnasium, the place where I’d been humiliated by the Princes almost exactly a year ago, and no matter how much I might claim to have moved on, there was an almost instinctive repulsion to the idea of attending another big event in that space.

  The parent appreciation night had taken place there, but that had felt different somehow. This felt…

  Well, scenes from Carrie kept flashing through my mind, and even if I felt sure I could trust the Princes, it was hard not to feel like I would be walking into a shooting gallery.

  On Saturday night, I took my time getting ready. Elijah was in the living room, but I kept the bathroom door closed as I applied makeup and arranged my hair into a loose updo. It wasn’t anything very fancy, but it was soft and flattering, and I curled the stray strands at my hairline.

  When I couldn’t justify any more fussing, I opened the bathroom door and stepped out—only to find all four boys gathered in the living room, staring at me.

  They all wore tuxes that fit them perfectly, making them look both refined and somehow more rugged. Even Elijah, who normally looked like he’d been born in a fucking suit, looked slightly offbeat—but maybe that was because the tux he’d chosen wasn’t very traditional, with a black dress shirt underneath and no bowtie. He looked a little bit punk rock, and the thought made me smile.

  Then I blinked, realizing I’d just been staring at them in silence for God on
ly knew how long. Not that it really mattered, since they’d been busy staring right back at me.

  “You look…” Finn cleared his throat. “You look fucking amazing, Legs.”

  I scrunched up my face at him. “You’ve seen me in this dress before. It’s not like I did some kind of magic trick.”

  He grinned. “Well, you looked amazing then too. Goddamn.”

  A flush warmed my cheeks, but I didn’t brush off his compliment again. For one thing, I was sure he wouldn’t let me, and that the other guys would pile on with their thoughts too if I tried to deny Finn’s words.

  And for another thing, with the four of them gazing at me with such awed, hungry stares, I felt beautiful.

  Finn was right.

  Fuck anybody who tried to make me feel otherwise.

  We walked over to the gymnasium shoulder-to-shoulder, me in the middle and two boys on each side. A steady stream of students were working their way over from the dorms, and those who’d left campus to pick up their dates were pulling into the student lot.

  I saw Maggie and Dan walking ahead of us with their arms linked. Leah had agreed to go as part of a group of single girls who were holding out for college boys to sweep them of their feet next year, but she was either already inside or pre-gaming somewhere.

  Mason and Cole held the doors open for me as we entered, and although the gym had been transformed once again by a well-paid decorating company, my heart still skipped a beat as we stepped inside.

  It’s okay, Tal. It’s fine. It’ll all be okay.

  I repeated that mantra in my head as we made our way through the crowd. I could feel people watching us, a mixture of curious glances and scathing glares. People were used to seeing me with the Princes by now, but thanks to Adena’s smear campaign, there was a subset of the school who honestly believed I’d seduced them or mind-controlled them or something.

  And it was one thing to be seen together in the halls of Craydon—another thing entirely to go to prom as a girl and her four dates.

  But fuck them.

  They don’t know, and it doesn’t matter if they never do.

  The world might not ever understand any part of my relationship with the Princes, but I didn’t need it to. The only people whose opinions mattered were mine and theirs.

  And the four boys had made it pretty damn clear how they felt.

  “Drinks?” Elijah asked, glancing at us and raising his voice slightly over the music.

  “Yeah.” Mason dipped his head once. He had a determined glint in his eyes, and when he led the way over to the refreshments table that was manned by student volunteers, his stride was quick and heavy, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

  We were still standing near the table when Adena swept in with Preston several minutes later, followed closely by Sable and a boy named Kyle Bishop. The blonde girl looked like a fucking movie star on Oscar night, and I was sure the thick band of gemstones draped around her neck were real diamonds. I didn’t know what the Princes had spent on my dress, but I was sure they could’ve bought ten of them for what Adena had paid for hers.

  Her gaze panned around the room as the conversation quieted, leaving just the sound of the music filling the large space. Her gaze landed on me, and her features contorted into a sneer for a second before she smoothed them back out, putting on a false smile and tugging Preston along with her.

  Adena might claim to hate the Princes, but I had to imagine it stung a little to see me at the dance with the four unequivocally hottest guys at school while she was reduced to bringing a little bitch like Preston.

  “What’s that grin for?” Finn arched a brow at me, his dimples popping out.

  “Nothing.” I shook my head, pressing my lips together. As satisfying as the thought had been, I didn’t really want to be thinking about Adena at all if I didn’t have to.

  The room was dimly lit, with a small stage erected at the far north end. There were several drink and refreshment tables spaced around the perimeter, with the space in the middle reserved for dancing. We made our way to the next drink table, even though the punch was way too sweet and tasted like Kool-Aid.

  Behind us, Adena and her posse sauntered over to the table we’d just been at, and I saw Kyle furtively pull a flask out of his jacket pocket, pouring a little into all of their drinks.

  “Jesus,” Elijah muttered, so quietly I could barely hear his voice over the music. “That’s what they consider subtle?”

  I hid a smile, turning away from the group of them.

  A little while later, Leah and Maggie both came over to say hi and exclaim over my dress. They both looked amazing too, and as I complimented their hair and outfits, it was nice to feel… normal for a little while. But as the night wore on, I had a harder and harder time keeping my nerves under control.

  Mason must’ve noticed the look on my face, because he took my elbow, leaning in to murmur in my ear, “You okay, Princess? We don’t have to stay. We can leave right now if—”

  Before he could finish speaking, there was a short screech of microphone feedback, and then Mrs. LaVaunne’s voice filled the room as the music faded. She was the teacher who’d overseen the prom-planning committee, and she was dressed up almost as much as the students.

  “Good evening, graduating class! I’m very happy to see you all here tonight.” She smiled, gazing out over the crowd. “The planning committee did an excellent job of bringing everything together for this event. If you see any of them on the floor tonight, be sure to thank them.”

  She made a few more announcements, and then, probably sensing that the crowd was rapidly losing interest, she held up her hands and beamed.

  “And now, on to the best part of the evening. The announcement of your prom court.” She waved a large, sealed envelope, and several girls in the audience let out little noises. “Everyone, please put your hands together for your prom king…” She opened the envelope with a flourish, pulling out the card inside. “Preston West!”

  The blond-haired boy smirked, exchanging punches on the arm with a few of his buddies as he made his way up toward the stage. Adena set her drink down and watched him go with a satisfied smile on her face, and I repressed the urge to wipe the smirk off with my fist. At least I’d gotten to do it once, although that still didn’t feel like enough.

  Preston walked up the stairs on the side of the stage to join Mrs. LaVaunne under the bright lights. Two junior girls darted up from behind them to place a sash over his shoulder and a crown on his head.

  Mrs. LaVaunne nodded in satisfaction, then turned back to the microphone.

  “Congratulations, Preston. And joining you as your queen will be…” She referred to the card again, although she had to have read the name already. “Talia Hildebrand.”

  The music had been turned off when she started speaking, but the room hadn’t been truly quiet until she said those words. Then it was like someone hit the mute button.

  Or maybe it was just that I couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in my ears.

  My heart took off like a racehorse in my chest, and I could feel my ribs pressing against the fabric of my dress as I tried to somehow draw in a full breath.

  Oh, fuck. Okay.

  Mason’s hand squeezed mine, and his low voice was the only thing that penetrated the fog in my brain.

  “You don’t have to, Tal.”

  But I did. I had to do this.

  Mrs. LaVaunne had called my name, and everyone was staring at me. Waiting for me.

  I forced one foot in front of the other, trying to hide my limp under the flowing fabric of my dress as I made my way to the stage. I held my skirt in both hands as I slowly ascended the stairs, glancing upward out of the corner of my eye, as if I might spot a bucket of pig’s blood somewhere in the rafters.

  It’ll be okay, Tal. Just do it.

  Preston was staring at me with narrowed eyes as I approached, but Mrs. LaVaunne truly didn’t seem to grasp that something was wrong here—that everything was wrong
, that this absolutely shouldn’t be happening. She gestured to the two girls behind her, who scurried out to drape the sash over my shoulders and place the crown on my head.

  It was made out of real metal—because of course it fucking was—and as soon as the heavy, bejeweled circlet was set on my head, a screech much louder than the microphone feedback cut the air.

  “What the fuck?”

  I’d never seen over a hundred people move in sync quite like they did as everyone turned to stare at Adena.

  She was standing right where Preston had left her, her hands clenched into fists and her face so red it was in danger of blending completely with her dress.

  “What. The. Fuck?”

  She repeated the question at a higher pitch and volume, as if that would get someone to answer her.

  When no one did, she stormed forward, weaving back and forth slightly but never taking her furious gaze off of me.

  “No! That’s not fucking right! You don’t get to be prom queen! Trash doesn’t get to be prom queen!”

  “Um, now—”

  Mrs. LaVaunne blinked, pulling the microphone out of its stand and bringing it closer to her lips even as her voice broke off. The other chaperones around the room straightened, obviously all realizing at the same time that something was wrong.

  “That belongs to me, you bitch!” Adena was still coming for me, bearing down like a fucking freight train. Sable had followed her halfway across the room, but now the dark-haired girl hesitated, glancing around uncertainly.

  Yeah, think about it for a second. You sure you want to hitch your wagon to that crazy train?

  I didn’t move. Not even as Adena found the stairs and stomped up them, stumbling and almost tripping on her dress. From the corner of my eye, I could see the Princes all gathered near the stage, but none of them moved to intervene. Their gazes were locked on me and Adena, their bodies tense.