Cocky F*ck: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rejects Paradise Book 2)
Page 19
I clench my jaw, shaking my head as I already know he’s right.
“They’re going to call you a liar until you believe it yourself.”
“Colton walked in. He saw what he did to me. He can back me up.”
“Colton has lied for Jude in the past and his parents are well aware of it. They’re not going to believe a word he says, especially when the whole of Bellevue Springs knows that you and Mr. Carrington share a … connection.”
Connection my ass.
I scoff. “So, you’re saying that there’s nothing I can do about it? I just have to sit back and let that bastard get away with it? I don’t think so.”
“I didn’t say that at all,” he murmurs, stepping away. “The opportunity will present itself and when it does, I trust you will make it count.”
Damn fucking straight I will.
I don’t respond, but I don’t need to. My confirmation is written all over my face. “That’s what I thought,” Harrison says. “Now, you’ve already wasted the morning away. I’d suggest that you hurry along and get started on the Carrington’s private kitchen and living area.”
I nod and he gracefully slips away, somehow making it seem like he was never there in the first place. I take a few deep breaths, desperately trying to calm myself and pull back the need to chase after Colton and put both him and Jude’s mother in their place. I find myself watching his back, keeping my eyes trained on the tight muscles beneath his shirt as he practically pushes Mrs. Carter through the door.
He turns around once she’s gone and his eyes lift from the ground, zoning straight in on me and it’s almost as though he knew I was here all along. He walks toward me, not once taking his eyes off of mine. I find myself sucking in a breath and holding it, for some reason scared to step out of line.
His eyes narrow with every passing second until he finally passes me and is gone without a single word between us.
Why the hell did that feel so damn intense?
I shake it off, feeling like an idiot for allowing him to get to me. He’s probably just pissed and hungover after the bullshit from last night, then add the whole listening in on his private conversation thing. Yeah, I’d probably be a little sour myself.
I try to put it to the back of my mind and take myself into the kitchen and look around. The room is a fucking mess. Like it’s not just untidy with a few leftover bottles and scattered red cups, it’s trashed. The furniture is out of place, the floors are sticky as shit, the pool looks like it’s only half filled, while there’s a disgusting smell coming from the back half of the room.
Great. Just fucking great.
I let out a heavy sigh and start working out my game plan before getting stuck into it.
I get halfway through when my phone rings and I glance down to find it well and truly after three in the afternoon. Milo’s name is flashing on my screen. “Hey, Husband. What’s going on?”
“Ugh. Why are you so chirpy at this time of the morning?”
“Morning?” I question. “It’s after three in the afternoon. Are you only just getting out of bed?”
“Uh-huh,” he grumbles, his voice filled with sleep. “I, uh … you busy?”
“Kinda. I have to clean up after the party. The place is trashed. You should see this shit. It’s freaking insane.”
Milo scoffs out a laugh but it doesn’t sound convincing. “Welcome to a real Bellevue Springs party. Where the rich pricks have never had to clean up after themselves or bother respecting other people’s things.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” I grumble.
“Yeah,” he says. “Can you talk while you’re cleaning?”
I pull my phone away from my ear and hit the speakerphone before I grab a trash bag and start making my way around the pool, collecting all the littered cups as I go. “Yeah, what’s up? You kinda disappeared last night.”
“Yeah … about that …”
Milo trails off and I’m left staring down at my phone, desperate to hear what’s about to come out of his mouth. “You can’t just leave it at that. What happened? One second you were showing Jess the time of her life in the pool and the next thing I knew, you were gone.”
“Ifuckedher,” he rushes out.
“WHAT?”
“I fucked her, okay?” he says, sounding sick to his stomach. “I fucked her and it was … I don’t know. It was fucking weird.”
“Wait. Hold on. Go back. You did what to that poor girl?” I demand, unable to keep the laugh out of my tone. “How the hell did that even happen? You know she’s a chick, right? With tits and a tight little pussy.”
“SHUT UP,” he yells. “Stop reminding me. I don’t even know how this happened. We were in the pool and so fucking drunk and her coochie was pressed up against my man bits and it was just … ready to go.”
“Dude …”
“Don’t,” he groans. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well … did you like it?”
A soft groan sounds through the phone and I hold back a laugh. “I mean, it wasn’t awful,” he tells me thoughtfully. “It was actually kinda nice, you know, once I started picturing her as a dude. But I just … I don’t fucking get it. I’m gay. One hundred percent gay. I like dudes. I like big, veiny, hard cocks springing free from their pants and smacking this bitch in the face. Cock, cock, cock. Every day of the fucking week. Cock for breakfast, cock for lunch, cock for dinner. I don’t do coochie. Hell, I even went as far as filing coochie away in the ‘never go there’ box and then topped it off with a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign.”
“You liked sliding up into that sweet, tight pussy, didn’t you? It felt good.”
“You’re not fucking helping.”
I let out a heavy sigh and give it to him straight. “You can look at it in either one of two ways. One, you were experimenting. I’m assuming you’ve never been with a chick before but how are you supposed to know what you like unless you give it a try?”
“Two. What’s option two?” Milo prompts.
I shrug a shoulder despite him not being able to see me. “Maybe you’re not as gay as you thought you were. Have you considered that maybe you like both men and women? It’s not a crime to be bi, you know? You don't have to pick a side. You can swing that dick both ways and have love for everybody.”
“Bi?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I don’t know,” he says thoughtfully. “I’m pretty fond of dick and when your tongue was down my throat, I wanted to bite it the fuck off just so it would go away.”
“Hey,” I snap. “You’re fucking lucky that you got to experience my tongue down your throat. There’s a whole lot of boys lining up just to give that a try.”
I can practically hear him rolling his eyes. “You’re really not helping me.”
“Why don't you get up, take a few painkillers and a hot shower, then think about it when your head is a little clearer. Hell, no one would blame you for thinking chicks are hot. We are hot and our coochies are smooth as hell.”
“I’m hanging up on you,” he growls through the phone.
“Okay,” I laugh, rushing it to get the last word in before he hangs up on me. “Call me when you work out what genitalia floats your boat.”
The line goes dead and I laugh to myself, feeling like a dickhead for laughing out loud when there’s no one around, but fuck it. I know I shouldn't use Milo’s confusion as my daily dose of entertainment but how could I not? He can hate on me later, for now, I need a good laugh to distract me from the memory of Jude Fucking Carter.
That fucking prick.
I can’t believe Colton had the audacity to allow his mother through that door to preach about what a good little boy that rat bastard is. God, I hope no one ever finds him. Well, anyone from Bellevue Springs that is. If that fucker is going to be found by someone, I’m hoping it’s one of the Black Widows—specifically one of my four boys.
Once the pool area is cleared of all the littered cups and trash, I start making my way back inside
only to find Colton standing in the kitchen, staring at me as he leans against the marble counter.
I avert my eyes and keep picking up trash, feeling more like the help than ever before. What is it about Colton Carrington that gives him the power to completely humiliate me?
“So, what?” Colton’s voice rings out. “You’re just not going to talk to me?”
“I’m busy, Colton. Go find some other pathetic bitch to torture.”
“Jade.”
“Stop,” I snap, turning on him and dropping the bag of trash at my feet. “I’m not your little chew toy that you get to fuck around with whenever you want. I told you to hurt me. I gave you exactly what you needed but last night, that was different. That was your pride getting in the way and I’m not about to sit back and allow you or any other fucker in this town make me feel ashamed of who I am or where I come from. You got that, Carrington?”
His eyes tighten and it’s like watching that same familiar wall sliding back into place as he tries to work out what the fuck is going on inside his chest. “You done?” he questions, bringing back the version of himself that I thought we’d already worked past. “I don’t give a shit about your little sob story. When will you be finished with this room? I’m expecting guests.”
I raise a brow while looking at him, my glare sharper than glass. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I demand, wondering what the hell happened to the kindhearted boy who sat across from me at my dinner table the other night and told my mother that I was the most breathtaking thing he’s ever seen and then went on to say that he wasn’t in love with me … not yet. I threw grapes at him while we got to know each other better and it was perfect, honestly one of the best nights of my life. How does it go downhill so damn fast?
“Does it look like I’m kidding?”
Anger pulses through my veins and after the bullshit with Jude’s mom earlier, my patience snaps. I grab the trash bag from my feet and storm into the kitchen. “Fuck you,” I growl, slamming the trash bag into his chest. “Fuck you to the deepest pits of hell. Clean up the goddamn room yourself.”
I don’t say another word as he stares at me in shock. I doubt anyone who has ever worked for the Carrington’s has ever spoken to them like that, but if he wants to keep going with this bullshit, then he’s going to have to get used to it.
I walk out of the kitchen with his heated eyes on my back, not even caring if he was to fire me right now. If that's what he wants, then he can go right ahead. There’s more than enough rich pricks living in Bellevue Springs. I’m sure one of them can be convinced to hire the broken girl from Breakers Flats.
I get to the door when Harrison comes barging in from the other side, momentarily forcing me to put a hold in my dramatic storm off. He briefly looks between me and Colton and I watch the very second he realizes that I’ve just said something that I probably shouldn’t have. His eyes narrow to slits but before he can say anything, I’m out the door, more than ready to get out of here.
“What is it?” I hear Colton’s voice trailing from the kitchen behind me.
“Sir,” Harrison says. “I have Vincent DeCarlo on the phone for you. He’d like to make you an offer.”
“Fuck,” Colton sighs, his voice growing more distant by the second. “I’ll take it in the office.”
Chapter 18
“Oceania Munroe,” I hear my name hollered through my English classroom.
My eyes snap up from the worksheet on my desk to find Mrs. Matthews’ harsh stare on me, sending nerves pulsing through my veins. Her hand hovers over the phone on her desk and dread settles heavily into my gut. What did I do? I swear I haven’t called anyone a rude bitch all day. The only time my name has ever been called out by a teacher holding a phone was when I was about to get my ass handed to me.
“Umm … yes?”
“You’re ten minutes late for your scheduled appointment with the guidance counselor. Why are you still sitting in my classroom?”
My gaze flicks across to Jess who sits beside me before landing back on Mrs. Matthews’. “I’m sorry. Who? I didn’t schedule an appointment.”
“It is compulsory and you are currently giving yourself a bad name. Now hurry up and attend your appointment before you’re forced to reschedule and miss more class time.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say, pushing up from my chair and grabbing my things. I look back at Jess. “What’s this about?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “You can never be too sure with that one, but seeing as though you’re new, I’d assume she just wants to touch base and know what your next steps are.”
“Next steps?”
“Don’t ask. It’s her motto. Everything is about the ‘next step.’”
My face scrunches in distaste. I don't know whether I’d prefer to suffer through this English class or get stuck with someone wanting to poke their nose into my business, but unlucky for me, I don’t exactly have a choice. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Third door on the right after you pass the student office. You can’t miss it. Her name is Miss Davies, it’s on the door.”
I give Jess a small smile and as I go to leave, she pulls me back. “Hey, Ocean,” she whisper-yells. I look back at her, waiting to hear whatever other useful advice she’s got for me to help me through this little meeting. “While you’re gone, could you check in with Milo? I haven’t heard from him since the party.”
Hmm, apparently Jess is all out of useful advice.
“I, uh …”
“Oceania,” Mrs. Matthews snaps. “Miss Davies has been very patiently waiting for you. You’re wasting her time and now mine. Get a move on.”
I give Jess a tight smile and scram. The last thing I need is to be the one to have to break it to her that Milo was just using her for a little fun. That’s assuming he decides that he wants to go back to eating cocks for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I mean, I’m all down for that, but it’s not an issue if he wanted to have a little coochie for an afternoon snack.
I get my ass down to the student office and start looking for Miss Davies’ office and just as Jess had said, I find her name scrawled across the third door on the right. I give a small knock, cringing with the thought of what I’m about to find.
“Come in,” a timid voice says from inside the office.
I twist the handle and push the door open to find a young woman staring back at me through thick rimmed glasses. Her hair is down, and without the expensive skirt suit she wears she’d look like a younger, more chilled out version of my mom. “Hey, umm … sorry. I didn’t know I had an appointment that I was supposed to attend.”
“That’s perfectly fine, Oceania,” she says, waving me through. “Please, take a seat. We have a lot to cover.”
“A lot to cover?” I question, somehow managing to hide my groan. “Like what?”
“Like your future.”
“Future?” I say with a sharp, barking laugh. “What future?”
Miss Davies has the nerve to look offended and honestly, I don't think she has the right. She mustn’t know who she’s dealing with if she thinks a girl like me is about to have some big respectable future.
Her eyes narrow on me and it’s as though she’s trying to work me out. I wait a moment, suffering through her silence before she sits back in her chair, apparently having exactly what she needs. Though if she knows something I don't, it’d be great if she could share it around.
“Tell me, Oceania. Why does the idea of a future scare you?”
My brows instantly pinch together. Scare me? What the hell is she talking about? I was expecting a lot of things to come flying out of her mouth but that certainly wasn't one of them. “It’s just Ocean,” I clarify.
Her lips pull into a small smile. “Ocean,” she repeats, leaning forward and adjusting my name in her schedule. “I like it. It’s very original. Now let's get back to the question, shall we?”
I shake my head. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m not scared of my future.”
/> “No?”
“No. You can’t be scared of something that you’re never going to have.” Her brow shoots up and as she silently leans back in her chair, I feel her waiting for an explanation. Realizing that I’m not going to get out of here until we’re through, I give her my hard truth, knowing damn well that hiding it has never gotten me anywhere before.
“Did you look me up?” I question, watching as she gives me a small nod. “Then you know that I’m from Breakers Flats, and the kids there … they’re not exactly taught to dream big. The majority of my class won’t graduate and will be either killed by the time they’re thirty or jumped into a gang, and those of us who do graduate might get a job working at the grocery store. That is until the banks lock the doors and we’re left selling ourselves just to get by. People like me, we’re not taught to dream for a future because it’s hard enough just getting through each day. Dreaming is for those who like disappointment. We’re taught to survive.”
Miss Davies studies me, keeping her eyes trained on mine as she puts to use that degree that’s framed up on her wall. “You know what I see?”
“Here we go. Another qualified person here to tell me what’s best for me when they don’t know anything about my life or growing up like I did.”
“Oh really? You’re so quick to judge but what would you say if you found out that I grew up in Blaxlands Grove and only just escaped gang life after my brother got jumped in? I worked my ass off, graduated high school, and by some miracle was accepted into college? What would you say then?”
My eyes bug out of my head, I would say her brother is most likely a Wolf. “You grew up in Blaxlands Grove?” I question, not sure if I should be wary of the girl who comes from the rival town of Breakers Flats, home of the West Side Wolves.
“I did,” she says. “I made a life for myself. I broke ties with the people from back home who were holding me back and I built a future for myself. I went to college, graduated, and got myself a job. I had to start small but I worked my way up, and now I own my own home and don’t need a man to help provide it for me. You can do that too, Ocean. You just have to believe in yourself.”