Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2)

by Candace Wondrak

  Okay, a lot more.

  Still, I fell, just as everyone else did. I had no choice.

  Did I feel awful about it? Sure, but did that change what I did or what I’d do to keep the status quo where it was? No, it didn’t, and it wouldn’t, even with Jaz’s random addition to Midpark High.

  Jaz didn’t deserve what I did to her, what happened on Friday. It was cruel. Needlessly cruel. I could’ve simply told her the truth, come clean, but no; Brittany had wanted a show, and so she got one. Parts of it had been videotaped too, so I was certain she planned on using that just in case Jaz ever tried to stand up for herself.

  Jaz wasn’t from around here. She didn’t know how vicious Midpark could be, but now, thanks to me and what I did, she would never forget.

  As the hours wore on, I hardly spoke. I never raised my hand in class, nor did I really focus. I knew everything I did, I did for a good reason, but…still, doubt nagged at me like a long-lost friend, having suddenly shown up after so long gone. Self-loathing that I usually was able to bury deep inside surfaced, causing me to think back to Friday night.

  My head was starting to feel light, like I’d drank too much. It was weird, because I hardly drank at all. I sat on the couch, watching it all happen, a secret part of me wishing I could stop it. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t, because she had me wrapped around her finger more so than she had anyone else.

  For the last two years, she’d been trying to get to me, and through a cruel twist of fate, she finally had the ammunition to do it. Brittany knew my weakness, and she used it to her advantage like a slimy pro.

  I got through the days—and the dates—pretending she was someone else. Tuning her voice out and instead focusing on her appearance. It helped that she was pretty; she had legs that went on for days and long blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders regardless of how she styled it. Yeah, usually I could focus on her looks while pretending she was someone else on the inside, but lately it’d been difficult.

  No, not just difficult. Downright impossible. Impossible because I didn’t want the hand I was given. I wanted more. I wanted someone else.

  I wanted Jaz.

  That only made what was happening tonight worse, I knew.

  She’d hate me after this. She’d think me the worst scumbag to ever walk the earth, believing me to have tricked her on purpose. Maybe it’d be easier that way. That’s what I would try to convince myself of, anyway.

  The girls had gone with Brittany to the door, watching as Jaz stumbled out. I couldn’t turn, couldn’t get up and look out of the window in the living room, like some of the guys were doing. I didn’t want to.

  God, I was an ass.

  I didn’t want to be here. I shouldn’t—

  It was after I decided that I didn’t want to be a part of this that I got up. The world swayed around me, which I thought was weird, but I was sure I could shake it off by walking. Hopefully Brittany would let me go, now that it was done. Now that she’d embarrassed Jaz and made me out to be the biggest ass around.

  I made it to the front hall, my legs feeling oddly heavy. The girls near the front door dispersed, leaving Brittany to shut the door. Once my girlfriend turned to face me, her amber eyes studied me, a look of annoyance on her face.

  Those eyes were lighter than Jaz’s, so much more full of contempt, set in a face that could kill you just as easily as her words could. Brittany was a menace upon everyone she met, and she loved the games she played.

  “Where do you think you’re going, Archer?” Her voice dripped venom, and I hated it.

  I hated myself, too.

  “I’m leaving,” I said, though my words came out sounding slurred. That was definitely weird. I knew I didn’t drink that much… “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Plus, Jaz was out there—she had no jacket, no way to get home. What if she stumbled into the woods and got lost? What if she couldn’t find her way home?

  Could I live with myself if, come Monday morning, I found out she never returned to the Fitzpatrick’s house? I didn’t know. I also didn’t know how I was supposed to live with myself after this, regardless.

  Jaz had become an immediate temptation to me, and I’d given in. Until her, I’d been a decent—if sometimes unwilling—boyfriend to Brittany. I couldn’t say what it was about Jaz that made me so weak, but she did.

  The thing was, she didn’t just make me weak. She made me wish things were different, made me want something I hadn’t cared about in a long time: my own happiness.

  I didn’t deserve that, not anymore.

  “Oh, no,” Brittany spoke, stepping closer to me in her tall heels. She practically rubbed herself against me, saying, “You and I are going upstairs. You still have to make it up to me, you know.” When I said nothing, when I did nothing, she added, “For fucking the new girl when you know you’re mine.”

  I looked away, feeling unsteady on my feet. She was right, of course…had to make it up to her. Had to do what Brittany wanted me to do, otherwise…

  Brittany’s hand slipped into mine, and she pulled me toward the stairwell, leading me up. Her parents weren’t home, so it didn’t matter which room we went in. In the end, she chose her room, one of the bedrooms on the top floor. She shut the door with her foot, pushing me to the bed, which I fell back on too easily.

  God, my head really did hurt.

  Her lithe figure straddled me, and she ran her hands down my chest, biting her bottom lip to show how hungry she was for me. I wished I could’ve been as needy for her as I was for the girl who ran out of this house, but I wasn’t.

  I also felt like passing out, but I’d fight that strange feeling for as long as I could, knowing if I passed out before the deed was done, Brittany would be pissed—and a pissed Brittany was not a Brittany anyone wanted to meet.

  “Tell me,” Brittany purred against my lips, so close to kissing me but not quite, “did you even think of me when you were inside her? Did you hope I’d never find out? Archer, you should know by now that there is nothing in Midpark I don’t know. Haven’t I already proved that to you?”

  Yes, that was why I was here, in the first place, doing everything I could to save the woman I loved most.

  My mother.

  Brittany helped my shirt off, bringing her lips to my neck. I closed my eyes, wishing for a different reality, wishing it was someone else on top of me—Jaz. Now, after tonight, Jaz would never be on top of me again. I didn’t deserve her, not after this.

  “Do you have a—” My question was shushed by Brittany, whose mouth met mine to swallow my words up. I was always careful, especially considering what happened to get me into this situation to begin with.

  As the seconds ticked by, I started to zone out, even though I could feel my body reacting to hers. It helped to imagine Brittany as some other dark-haired beauty, but soon enough my mind was a blank space.

  I think I passed out.

  When I woke up, Brittany was gone. I was alone in the bed, my clothes on the floor. Light shone in the windows, meaning I’d lost quite a few hours, as it was now early morning. I had to get home, not like my father cared where I went or what I did, as long as I was careful. I hoped, prayed that we’d been careful last night. We were thanks to me on a normal day, but it was impossible to remember.

  As I hurriedly got dressed, I couldn’t help but think that, in the end, Brittany always got what she wanted.

  The more I thought about what happened on Friday night, the more unsure about it all I became. As the day wore on, as I sat through class after class in silence, as I continued to not see Jaz once in the halls, I felt doubt and suspicion creeping up my spine, taking hold of me and refusing to let go.

  What I did was really shitty.

  Maybe, if I saw Jaz, I could pass her a note, talk to her somewhere private? Apologize and tell her…tell her what? Tell her the truth? No, I couldn’t risk it. If the truth got out, Brittany would make good on her word, and then everything I knew would be over.

  No, I could
n’t do that, and knowing I couldn’t do it made me even more down in the dumps. It was times like these when I really hated myself, though it wasn’t like I’d ever done this to any other girl before. Just Jaz. Only Jaz.

  Not sure if that made it better or worse.

  The end of the day came, and it felt like it’d been Monday for years. Time crawled so slowly today, it was unbearable. I really hated it, how I felt, what I did, but I couldn’t change it. There was really no point in drowning myself in self-hatred when nothing would change.

  I went to my locker, tuning out the world as I pulled my bag out and shoved the books I needed to do my homework in. It wasn’t like I wanted to be a good student, but putting my nose into my textbooks would at least get my mind off what happened, for a little while. I threw my bag over my shoulders, slamming my locker shut and turning to walk toward the exit of the school, but I found I wasn’t alone.

  Brittany stood nearby, her arms folded over her chest, her blonde head cocked as she glared at me. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, huffing. The other students who passed us threw us looks, but none were stupid enough to stop and listen to what would surely become an argument. Our relationship—if you could call it that—was always rocky.

  Mostly because it was one-sided, totally forced.

  “Nothing,” I said, sounding pretty emotionless. I didn’t like being a liar, but it wasn’t like I could tell Brittany the truth. She’d never let me go.

  “You were quiet all day, hardly said a word to me,” she went on, cocking a single blonde brow. Most guys would love to have her as their girlfriend; she was gorgeous in the high-class way most Midpark trophy wives were, and she gave great blowjobs.

  But even good sex wasn’t enough to make me fall for her. She was…she was a snake in the grass, and I hated that I’d been caught by her, forced to do her bidding, be her toy. I often wondered: why me?

  The question of the year, one that would never get an answer.

  I shrugged. “I didn’t really have anything to say.”

  Brittany wasn’t happy with that. “If this is how you’re going to be, I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell the world what I know.” She took a step closer to me, whispering, “Is that what you want, Archer? Do you want me to tell everyone what the head of the Vega household gets up to when he’s not at home? What would happen to your poor mother when the police drag your sorry ass of a father away?”

  I glanced all around, finding no one had stopped to listen. Everyone else just had leaving the school on their mind, though the crowd in the hall had thinned a bit. “Stop,” I said, moving a hand to her side, pulling her against me. I said nothing else as I lowered my mouth to hers, giving her a hard, fast kiss to shut her up.

  When our lips parted, I watched her tongue snake out, running the length of her bottom lip. “That’s better,” Brittany purred, her hand finding mine as she pulled me away from my locker. She already had her bag around her shoulders, her coat on. I let her tug me out of the school, and as we crossed the parking lot with a small horde of students, I had the silly thought that I could do this.

  I could keep lying. I could be Brittany’s perfect boyfriend for as long as I had to, no more slip-ups, until she grew tired of me. And if she never did, if she somehow forced me to stay with her forever over this…well, then I guessed that’s how it had to be for me. Some people weren’t able to live the lives they wanted.

  But then, after we crossed the walkway before the line of fancy cars that were parked to pick up the students who couldn’t yet drive, my feet stopped when my eyes scanned the parking lot.

  In the far back corner, I saw something out of place. Someone, actually.

  A guy on a bike. A guy with a thick head tattoo on the sides of his skull, an unkempt mop of hair on the top of his head. He wore way too much leather, and he seemed far too at ease here, even though he definitely wasn’t a Midpark High student.

  And, the kicker, he wasn’t alone.

  No, someone else stood beside him, laughing at what he said, holding onto her backpack like she’d gone to class instead of ditching it, even though I knew that wasn’t true.

  Jaz.

  Brittany noticed where my gaze was, and she spotted them, a smile creeping along her face. “Would you look at that?” she asked. “She moved on pretty fast.” Her amber eyes turned to me, icicles shooting from them. “I don’t think you meant as much to her as you wanted to.” Looking back at Jaz and the stranger, she muttered, “Wonder who he is. Neither of those freaks belong here.”

  I knew what that was code for: she’d dig up dirt on him. If he was an old friend of Jaz’s, or an old boyfriend, she’d find out. And if that guy was somehow important to her, Brittany would find out a way to tear them apart, too. It’s what she was good at.

  I said nothing, knowing whatever I said next would be used against me, regardless.

  Brittany was slow to let go of my hand, and she said, “Meet me at my house?”

  What could I do besides nod?

  As Brittany left my side to head to her car, I stood there for a few moments more, watching Jaz with the tattooed guy. It wasn’t even our local tattooed loner, Vaughn Scott, who I heard Jaz sat with at lunch.

  Who the hell was this guy?

  And why did just watching him interact with Jaz tick me off?

  I had no right to feel the anger I did in my chest, no right to have a monopoly on Jaz’s affections—not after everything I did—but an uneasy, annoyed feeling rose in my gut nonetheless, soon swallowing me whole.

  Though I shouldn’t be, I was jealous.

  Chapter Four – Jaz

  Spending the day with the guy who’d tried to kidnap me hours earlier was actually—and surprisingly—fun. He had no filter, said whatever was on his mind, though no matter how many times I asked, he would not tell me what happened during that phone call or why I was so important to him. I’d never seen him before in my life, and yet he acted as if we were destined to be together.

  He was crazy.

  Maybe a little psychotic, too. I noticed he liked to fidget with his knife. It had been a bit unnerving, at first, but as the day wore on, I got used to it. I’d never claim he wouldn’t pull it on me in public, because he was clearly missing a few marbles, but I felt weirdly safe with him at times.

  It helped that he was attractive, of course. Tall, dark, and handsome, radiating a danger that no one could deny. We got strange looks everywhere we went, partly because I should be in school, but also because Dante clearly didn’t belong here.

  He looked like he was in a gang, or something.

  We walked around Midpark. I didn’t know most of the town, but I knew a few places. I didn’t have to worry about Mom seeing us, but I did worry that she’d arrive at the school before we did in the afternoon. I took him to the small diner I’d first met Jacob at, and it was there we ate lunch. The strange part? We even sat in the same booth; it was kind of like deja vu.

  I didn’t tell Dante everything about my life, even though he was clearly trying to make the day all about me. He’d been watching me for a while, so he knew more than I’d like him to. Instead, as we waited for our burgers, I asked him about himself.

  “So, what did I ever do to merit my own stalker?” It probably wasn’t the best thing to do, to make light of the situation—because today could’ve ended quite differently—but oh, well.

  “You were born,” Dante spoke with a smirk, fiddling with his knife under the table. I prayed the waitress wouldn’t see it, because surely she’d flip shit. Seeing someone like Dante toy with a switchblade was bound to give rise to worry.

  I was about to ask why me being born had anything to do with it, but then something occurred to me. “You…you’re not like, sent by my dad, are you?” The possibility caused my heart to skip a beat.

  If my father was a dangerous man, it would make sense why my mom was so protective of me. Why she never wanted me to date. Why friends always had to come over our house instead of vice versa.
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  Why wouldn’t my mom tell me, if that was the case?

  “Your dear old daddy?” Dante cocked his head, causing some of his dark brown hair to fall over his forehead. “What would make you think that?”

  I played with the straw in my drink. “I don’t know. I really don’t know much about him. Literally the only thing I know is that I look like him. Until my mom slipped up and said that, I was under the impression she didn’t know who he was.” AKA, for my whole life, my mom basically lied to me.

  “Wouldn’t that be something?” Dante questioned, that blasted smirk still on his lips. After spending the last few hours with him, I’d come under the impression he usually wore that expression.

  It was cute, in an annoying way, but still. I’d never seen anyone wear a smirk quite like Dante.

  And, yes, I would forever refuse to call him Storm, however long he was here.

  I mean, surely this guy had to leave. He couldn’t be staying. There was no way he could afford to. He didn’t scream Midpark; he was obviously from somewhere far away. He didn’t carry the same air about him that Vaughn did. Psychotic-ness aside, Dante was more like me than anyone else in this town.

  I chuckled. “I feel like you’re not answering the question.” And maybe that was my answer.

  If he was sent by my father, what then? Kidnapping me was a little extreme, wasn’t it? If Dante had been hired by someone around here to get rid of me permanently, he wasn’t doing a very good job. The more I thought about it, the more I assumed someone from out of town had sent him here.

  Dante shrugged. “Maybe I’m not. Maybe it’s not time for you to know.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to stick around, stalk me more?” The waitress chose that moment to walk up with two plates in her hands, setting them down between us. I gave her a smile when she threw me a questioning look, hoping she didn’t think anything was wrong.

  Nothing was wrong. At least, nothing right now. Earlier, in that hotel room, I’d really been nervous for a while.