by R Holmes
I cover my boobs with one arm, and the other over my front, and run into the locker room. My gut told me this was happening, but I refused to believe it until I see there are no clothes on the bench where I left them. No key to my locker, which means my book bag, phone, and wallet are locked in with it. I run over to the towel shelf and see there aren't any towels left.
Is this seriously happening right now? I let out a frustrated groan. I'm starting to think I pissed off the big guy upstairs and this is my punishment. Death by humiliation.
I'm stuck naked, freezing, and alone in this locker room. There's only one way out and it's through the door leading directly back into the gym. Before I can gather the courage to walk through it, it opens, and none other than the one person I'd rather die than see walks through. I let out a yelp and run to hide behind the cabinet on the other side of the room.
"Missing something?" He smirks.
"You are a literal psychopath. Where are my clothes?"
"Let's play a game, and maybe you'll get them back. I left your rosary beads, did you see? Can't come between you and your precious savior."
His tone is taunting. He's trying to get a rise out of me. Today, with how I'm feeling… he might just get one. I’m sore from the gym and exhausted from staying up until after two a.m. studying. I have no patience for Rhys.
"Come out, Valentina." His voice is closer this time, just on the other side of the wooden cabinet I’m hiding behind.
"I'm going to scream, Rhys. I swear to God, if you don't give me my shit back, I'm going to scream like a damn banshee."
"You won't. I know it, and you know it, so why don't you stop wasting my time with more lies. I know they're your specialty, but I've grown bored of your bullshit."
I squeeze my eyes shut and will him away. Although, I know it won't matter. He's like a fucking sickness that keeps spreading. I can't escape his hold no matter how hard I fight, he just keeps taunting me with the same darkness that envelops him like a second skin.
"Valentina."
My eyes pop open to see he's standing directly in front of me. His eyes travel the length of my body hungrily and unashamedly. I try and cover myself, but he's on me before I can make a half-assed attempt at modesty.
"Why do you do this? I've told you over and over I didn't snitch on you, or rat, or whatever the hell you call it. Leave. Me. Alone. Aren't you bored of me yet? Basic, pathetic Valentina, remember?" I grit my teeth together and put my hands on his chest, pushing him back.
He cages me in, his hands on either side of my head, clutching the wooden cabinet. His weapon is invading my space, and disarming me with a smolder so powerful, it weakens my knees. They suddenly feel too brittle to hold me any longer. Rhys Blackwood is intoxicating. Alluring. Forbidden in a way that is nefarious. He somehow breathes life into my weak and spineless body, although it's never his intention. His objective from day one has been to break me down into nothing. To leave me in shards, impossible to piece back together. So jagged, anyone who tries to repair me will only be gutted in the process. Little does he know, with each encounter, I feel a sense of power completely undeniable. I feel stronger. Empowered. And I hate him every single second I'm in his presence. His hand drops down and makes contact with my flushed skin, even though he’s eyes hold mine, his hand drifts lower and lower until he caresses the soft skin underneath my breast. A teasing, featherlight touch, leaving my chest heaving.
No matter what my traitorous body allows, I will always hate Rhys Blackwood from the deepest, darkest depth of my soul. After all, he's the reason it's tainted black.
"I'm just getting started, little lamb," he whispers.
My heart flutters wildly in my chest with each passing second. I'm completely bare for him, but his eyes hold mine. The intensity of his stare gives me goosebumps and my nipples pebble on their own accord. I can't control my body's reaction to him even if I tried. What's worse is he knows it, he knows how pathetic and feeble I am. He uses it as ammunition in our warfare.
"Punishing you for your transgressions has become my favorite pastime, Valentina. I'm addicted to all of the ways I want to destroy you."
His finger finds my wetness and dips inside. He circles my clit unhurriedly and I suck in a sharp breath. My eyes slam shut and I grip the cold wood behind me. In all of our encounters, he's never allowed me even a small semblance of control. Always holding and binding my hands, using the hair at the nape of my neck as a show of dominance. The pleasure he brings my body without even trying terrifies me.
His punishments are something I find myself craving hungrily.
"Did he make your pussy wet, little lamb?"
Wait, what? Who?
He must see the confusion all over my face because he all but growls in my ear, "Douchebag from the hallway. Don't play stupid. It's even more unbecoming of you."
"I don't even know him! He's just some guy from my class. Who gives a shit if I talk to a guy before class, Rhys?" I put my hands on his chest to push him away from me, but he steps closer. "You are a literal lunatic. They need to put you away."
"I suggest you shut that mouth before I fuck it. We both know how much you like to choke on my cock, Valentina."
My nipples pebble under his gaze. The room is freezing, but in truth it’s his gaze, his filthy mouth and how close he is to me. Always invading my space each and every chance he gets. He eyes me hungrily with each passing second the intensity in the air sparks. It fizzles and pops every time his eyes drag down my body.
"Only when you force it down my throat, asshole," I spit back.
His eyes darken. "You're feeling quite brave tonight. Especially for someone who's got everything to lose."
"Maybe I'm just sick of you treating me like your personal fuck toy."
When I speak up, he reaches out and tweaks my nipple between his fingers roughly. A mixture of pain and a twinge of pleasure I instantly regret. I hate my traitorous body.
"Who gives a fuck what you're sick of, Valentina? I sure as fuck don't. You're here for my pleasure alone, and that’s the only thing that matters. Unless…" He trails off, but what he's implying is understood.
Once again, he uses Harvard as a weapon against me. He knows that with the video, he truly has the power to bring me to my knees. But then I wonder, what about Rhys Blackwood can be used against him? He's someone everyone wants to know. The girls fall at his feet like flies, and the guys want to be his friend. I know his loyalty to his friends is unwavering. He'd do anything for them. Like burn down a house and possibly commit a murder.
Are they the key to hitting him where it hurts?
"Valentina," he snaps, pulling me from my thoughts.
My eyes drag up to meet his, and they search my gaze. I want to know what made Rhys Blackwood so empty. The truly broken boy.
"Who hurt you? Who hurt you so badly there was nothing left but this…?" I trail off.
As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them. Rhys stills in front of me, his face turning cold as stone. The small, minuscule amount of progress I thought we were making is gone, disappearing into thin air in front of me. The air in the room shifts. His jaw clenches, his hands are fisted at his sides. I see his chest heave up and down in short pants. I feel his anger.
Seconds pass in agonizing silence.
Then, he pushes off the cabinet behind me and leaves me standing there, naked and suddenly so cold, I'm shivering.
He's halfway across the room before he stops. I wait for him to turn around and spew evil, vile things from his sinful lips, but it never comes. Instead, he turns back to look at me. The air seizes from my lungs as he stalks toward me, with a look so lethal, fear instills in me. For the first time, I'm truly afraid he might hurt me.
When he finally comes to a stop in front of me, he wraps his hand around my throat and slams me against the cabinet behind me. His grip is so tight, it's hard to take a breath, when he leans closer and slams his lips against mine.
I'm so stunned, I can't move. I'm comple
tely in shock. Combined with his punishing grip, I don't even have time to react. His lips move against mine in a kiss so searing I know from this day forward, no one will ever compare. I'll look back on this moment years from now and still remember what it was like to have the breath stolen from my body.
His tongue teases the seam of my lips and my treasonous body allows him inside. He kisses me like he's not had a drink in days and I'm the only one who can quench the thirst inside him. It's intoxicating. I moan into his mouth greedily, with no inhibition, as he claims my mouth with ferocity.
This kiss is Rhys. It's everything I could've imagined it to be. Raw, needy, possessive, demanding. Just when the shock is wearing off, he tears his lips from mine and his gaze locks with my eyes.
"I'm not broken, Valentina. I'm dead inside. My soul is as black as the deepest part of hell and you're a fool to think this…" He grips my neck tighter and my hands fly up to his, clutching them against my throat. "Is anything but the beginning of your ruin. I'm a monster, little lamb, and the only one to satisfy the hunger, is you.”
With that, he lets go of my neck and leaves me alone. It takes me moments to regain my bearings, but when I do, I realize one thing.
I’ve hit Rhys Blackwood in the one place it hurts.
His past.
Sebastian, Alec, and I are sitting in the cafeteria at lunch, discussing last night's events with Ezra's dad, when Mara and her friends prance by, giggling and whispering while they stare. I could never understand Mara's obsession with me and have always chalked it up to wanting what she can't have. I've never given her a second of my time or attention, so her obsession is wholly one-sided.
"Yo, you heard about Mara and Maddoc? She caught him balls-deep in a freshman last night and apparently threw a toaster at his head," Sebastian says between mouthfuls of spaghetti.
One thing I hate just as much as a liar, is a gossip. Which is the number one reason I can't stand ninety percent of the females at St. Augustine. Sure, they're hot. Nice tits, tight pussies… but if I have to suffer listening to them talk, I'd rather stick my dick in a meat grinder.
"You sound like a fucking girl, Bash. Who gives a shit? Unless you're interested in her."
I smirk when he shoots me a look. His eyebrows draw together and a shadow of disgust passes his face.
"Dude, not if she was the last person on the planet. I'll fuck my hand to Pornhub before I touch that girl." He gags dramatically.
Fucking drama queens, I'm surrounded by them.
From our table at the far back of the cafeteria, we spend the lunch hour talking shit with guys from the team. Then I get a glimpse of Valentina. I'm surprised, as I never see her in here, I just assumed she ate lunch in the library with the other geeks. I watch as she makes her way through the lunch line, choosing a salad paired with an apple and a bottle of water. She finds an empty table off to the side and pulls out a textbook and starts reading, completely unaware of her surroundings. She never looks up as she takes bite after bite from her apple, simply turning the pages as she goes.
Her dark hair is tucked behind her ear and her face is completely free of makeup. She's wearing a navy cardigan over her uniform, and in true fashion, it swallows her, as always. It makes me wonder why she tries so desperately to hide her body. As much as it fucking kills me to admit, her body is flawless. Thick thighs, an hourglass figure with a pert, round ass that would make any sane man's mouth water. Her tits are full C's, heavy and perfectly round globes. Everything about her is unholy. She was created to tempt men to sin.
The obnoxious click of Mara's heels pull me from my thoughts as she walks over to Valentina's table.
"Hey, slut."
Valentina looks up from her textbook just as Mara leans over and pours her entire water bottle over her head, drenching her. The water soaks her uniform shirt, and even with the cardigan she's wearing, the water soaks straight through and sticks to her pale skin. The shirt molds to her skin like a glove, revealing her deep red bra and tits spilling over the cups.
She's so shocked she freezes, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as the water begins to drip and puddle beneath her chair. When she finally opens her eyes, they shine with unshed tears of humiliation. She takes in everyone around her laughing and pointing, and stands, gathering her wet, destroyed books.
Stand up for yourself.
Mara laughs. "Whoops. That's for ruining my relationship, you skank." Then she turns on her heel and prances back to the table. Valentina never takes her eyes off of Mara, and judging by the tears, Mara won. Her eyes flit over and her gaze locks on mine. She tries to hold back the tears, but the moment her eyes meet mine, she's had enough, she grabs her book sack and soggy books and runs from the cafeteria, bumping and knocking people out of the way in the process.
"Fucking bitch," Mara says, obviously proud of herself.
"Only bitch I see here is you." I look directly at her. Her eyes go wide, she can't believe I spoke to her the way I did in front of everyone, which means she doesn't know who the fuck I am.
"Wha-what?" she stammers, clearly flustered.
"Didn't fucking stutter, Mara. You're a cunt, plain and fucking simple. I suggest you find a new place to sit tomorrow."
I grab my book bag from the table and leave without another word. Everyone at the table is staring at me like I've grown another head. Do I give a fuck about Valentina? Not a bit. But Mara is a bitch who needs to be knocked off the pedestal she's put herself on. The rest is noise.
Valentina Carmichael is still the reason my best friend is sitting in a jail cell at this very moment.
Why I find myself making a beeline for the girls’ restroom in search of her is simply because she's vulnerable and that’s exactly how I like her. My selfish need to hurt her overpowers anything. The door to the girls’ restroom is shut but not locked, so I push it open to find Valentina standing near the sinks, wiping away the mascara from her flushed cheeks.
I don’t like the tears in her eyes not being caused by me. And that’s something I hate to admit to myself.
In this moment, I realize somewhere in the past few weeks, things have shifted. I won't bother lying to myself, while I want to be the one that brings Valentina Carmichael to her knees… no one else will fucking touch her. No one else gets the tears that are reserved for me and me only. She is still the pawn in my game, but shit has gotten complicated. Not that she knows it.
"Get out, Rhys, I can't do this shit with you right now," she whispers, her voice thick with defeat. Her hands shake as she reaches for another napkin.
Ignoring her, I flip the lock on the girls’ restroom and set my bag down on the floor near the sink.
"Why do you let her have control over you?" My tone is curious, if not laced with disbelief.
I'm genuinely curious why Mara has this superiority over her. Or why Valentina allows it. If anything, she's the one who should be holding the cards. Thinking about how Mara just humiliated and embarrassed her, I can't help but think how fucking sweet it would be to watch St. Augustine's queen bitch fall. Replaced by Valentina, who would reign the school with kindness and grace only she possesses.
She looks at me through tear-filled eyes and sneers, "Like you fucking care."
"Didn't say I did. Just asked why you let her humiliate you the way she does."
Her eyes roll and she continues to sniffle. She takes the paper towel and turns on the hot water, wetting it.
I walk over to her and turn off the water, forcing her to look at me.
"Tell me," I command.
She hesitates momentarily, then finally speaks, "It's not like standing up to her will make a difference. She's a bitch, but she's the queen. People bow down and fall at her feet and I'm just… a wallflower. I don't compare to her, and I'd rather just take the shit and stay out of her way. I want to graduate and go to college. That's it. St. Augustine doesn't matter to me."
I step closer to her, invading her space like I do every time I'm within six feet of her. It's almost natural,
I don't even have to think about it, my body is simply drawn to hers.
"I've seen the fire in you, Valentina, it lives in here." I run my fingers across the wet, soaked-through shirt at her chest. She glances down, suddenly remembering her mouthwatering tits are on full display. Her cheeks flush as she tries to pull the cardigan tighter around her, but she's so cold her teeth are chattering. She's completely soaked.
"Stop," I tell her, pulling the cardigan from her shivering grip. I take it off her shoulders and pull it down her arms, ridding her of it. "It's cold as fuck, and you're shivering."
"I don't have anything else, I left my gym clothes in my dorm."
I remover my blazer, then offer it to her. She looks stunned and makes no move to take it from me.
"Fucking take the jacket, Valentina. It's cold as fuck outside and you'll end up with pneumonia." I huff.
She crosses her arms over her chest. The look on her face makes me equal part crazy and fucking horny, and then I just want to put her over my knee and spank her sweet ass until she submits.
"Take. The. Jacket."
"Fine." She snatches it from my grip and eyes me. "Aren't you going to turn around while I take my shirt off?"
I grin.
"Why would I do that, little lamb? It's mine."
"You're an ass. And my body is not yours, you just like to live in some fucked-up world where everything is yours." Her voice is full of conviction, but it shakes. The entire scene in the cafeteria has shaken her resolve, even if she’d never admit it out loud to me.
She fingers the buttons on her collared white shirt, slowly undoing one. Ever so slowly, she makes her way down her shirt until each button is freed and the shirt lays open against her red lace bra.
"Wear it for me?"
"In your dreams, asshole," she scoffs.
I walk closer and snake my hand around her waist, yanking her to me. "Nah, my dreams are a lot more fucked-up. Sometimes you're bound in rope, other times you're riding my face and screaming my name like your precious God."
