I did not glance at Archer, though with my peripherals, I could tell he was trying to focus on the board, even though class hadn’t yet started. Even though nothing was up on that board and we were surrounded by talkative, loud students. He didn’t want to look at me, either.
Fine.
“You know,” I muttered under my breath, refusing to meet those blue eyes, “normally when someone fucks up, they own up to it. It says a lot about you that you won’t.” I said nothing else, and soon enough the announcements came on.
As the rest of the class simmered down, as the teacher made a shushing noise in the front of the room to get everyone to quiet, I heard Archer say, “I think it says more about you that you fell for it.”
If the pencil in my hand hadn’t been mechanical, I would’ve snapped it in half.
Was it better to be the gullible fool or the ass doing the fooling? Probably the latter.
I said nothing else all period, and it continued that way for most of the day as I drifted between classes. I’d thought it would be impossible to feel more alone here than I did before, but life came to prove me wrong yet again. I really was alone in Midpark High. Truly.
It sucked.
When choir class arrived, I was knee-deep into a morose, gloomy feeling I just couldn’t shake. I sat in my chair, keeping my head down, as I got out the sheet music I hadn’t thought of at all.
I should’ve dropped choir. I didn’t like singing. Singing was…something happy people did, people who had good voices. Me? I sounded like a dying cat on my best day and a shrieking monster on my worst.
Bobbi plopped down beside me, lightly touching her elbow with mine. “Hey,” she spoke, sounding far too kind. Or maybe I was just used to the sneering and the laughter from everyone else. “How are you doing? I…I heard about what happened at the party.”
I was slow in meeting her hazel stare. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a low, messy ponytail. A thin scarf hung around her neck, sitting on top of a red sweater and dark blue jeans. Even though she wasn’t considered a part of the cool crowd here, I knew her outfit still cost more than a monthly car payment for a normal household.
When I said nothing right away, she whispered, “Everyone was talking about it. They still are. I didn’t know you went with Archer.” She quieted as a few other students wandered into the room, setting their books down in the corner before taking their seats. “You didn’t ever mention his name, otherwise I would’ve warned you.”
I appreciated the sentiment, for what good it did me now. “Thanks,” I said. Running a hand through my hair, I muttered, “It isn’t like I knew he had a girlfriend. He never mentioned her. I didn’t…I didn’t think to ask and make sure. I figured he was a good guy.” At the time, Archer had really seemed like a good guy, but he fooled me, and now I was both enraged and aching in my heart.
As stupid as it was, I felt like I’d lost him, even though I’d never really had him.
It was just a dumb hookup. Just because he was gorgeous and fine didn’t mean I had to go crushing on the guy. Now that I knew he was an ass of epic proportions, I really should know better.
“Brittany has had her eyes set on him for years,” Bobbi spoke, about the only one in this school who wasn’t acting like I was a social pariah.
The other students in choir didn’t seem too particularly gossipy or cruel, but you never really knew. Bobbi might pay the price for talking to me like this; that didn’t stop her, though.
“She’s been obsessed with him, and for so long, Archer never gave her the light of day,” she recalled, thinking back as she crossed her ankles beneath her chair. “Then, sometime late last year, something changed. Almost overnight, they started dating.”
Wasn’t that how relationships were formed in high school? New couples sprouted up overnight all the time at my last school; it was nothing out of the ordinary.
The look on my face must’ve said it all, for Bobbi had to add, “You don’t get it, you weren’t here—and it’s only because you’re not part of the Brittany club that I’m telling you this—but Archer hated her. He couldn’t stand her. So, you tell me why, all of a sudden, they start dating and it’s water under the bridge?”
“Hormones?” I suggested, figuring it’d be a good explanation for why I acted the way I did with him. Hormones and his stupid, handsome face, muscular body, and calm, strong hands. Oh, those hands…
Bobbi didn’t look impressed by my suggestion. “If I had to guess, I’d say she got something on him. Everyone has dirt around here, you just have to know where to look. Blackmail is a biweekly ritual in Midpark.”
I didn’t care enough to comment on her wild theory about Archer, instead questioning, “Do you have dirt, too?”
She smiled. “Probably not as much as you, now—only your dirt has been spread around this school like herpes. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. I’m all for trying to take Brittany down a peg or two.”
Bobbi radiated kindness, something I wasn’t used to. “I do want to take her down, but it’ll need to be good,” I muttered, frowning to myself.
As Ms. Haber walked in front of the class, gathering herself, Bobbi leaned into me to whisper, “You want to reschedule for after school? I know you probably have a lot on your mind—after everything, I bet choir is the last thing on your mind.”
Now was the time when I could’ve brought up the fact I had no ride home for the foreseeable future, when I could’ve asked her if she wanted to come over—and thereby drive me home—but I didn’t. A part of me still didn’t trust her, mostly because I didn’t truly trust anyone in Midpark.
The choir concert was in two weeks, so we really didn’t have much time. I couldn’t push it off for too long.
“How about Friday?” I said. Going to any parties was the last thing I wanted to do, so it wasn’t like I had any hot plans. She might, but it wasn’t like I planned on practicing and singing all night. I mean, shoot me now.
“Friday after school works,” Bobbi agreed.
We had to quiet down as Ms. Haber took hold of the class, leading us in vocal warm-ups. Some people might find singing relaxing, but I didn’t. I struggled to pay attention, trying to keep in tune with the fellow altos around me. As I sang, I wondered if what Bobbi said had a shred of truth to it.
If Brittany had some dirt on Archer, if she was basically forcing him into being in a relationship with her, would that change anything? Did that make what he did any less wrong?
No. No, it wouldn’t change anything, and no, it didn’t make it less wrong.
The class period passed slowly, and when the bell rang, I was one of the first to grab my books and rush out after telling Bobbi that I’d see her tomorrow. You know, it was kind of funny, now that my life had spiraled out of control—I hardly had time to worry about Jacob or the reason I hired him.
Until I stood at my locker, all my books shoved in, and made the mistake of checking my email before heading to lunch.
Jacob had emailed me, wanting to meet after school at the diner.
Had he found something? My heart skipped a beat at the thought. Wouldn’t now be the absolute worst time to discover something insidious about Oliver Fitzpatrick, now that mom and I had no car to drive out of here with? I should’ve figured this was how it would go; when things spun out of control, everything went to hell all at once.
There was no point in denying the inevitable, if he had found something, no point in pushing him off or delaying what was surely to come, so I quickly responded to the email before grabbing my lunch bag.
I had a better idea.
Vaughn sat at his usual lunch table, a tray of food before him, which he was mainly pushing around and playing with, not eating. The moment I neared, though, he dropped his spork, eyeing me up like he hadn’t just seen me hours earlier.
I slid into the seat across from him, meeting that black stare. Hate and pain were written across his knuckles, and he moved them under the table, out of sight. Va
ughn seemed quiet, not at all the type to have tattoos like that, and it made me wonder if, maybe, I didn’t know the real Vaughn at all.
Could I really know anyone at Midpark?
I said nothing, unrolling my lunch bag in silence and well aware that Vaughn watched me with a quiet fascination I couldn’t place. Was he jealous, maybe? He and I did have a few close encounters…
Was Vaughn the type to get jealous? I guessed I didn’t know him well enough to be the judge of that.
Minutes passed, the cafeteria loud around us, full of dozens of different conversations, laughter, whispering, shouting—you name it. I was glad Brittany and Archer had separate lunch periods than me, but that was a small prize, considering.
“So,” Vaughn broke his silence, tilting his head at me slowly, measuredly, as if he wanted me to be the one to talk.
“So,” I repeated, feeling—oddly—not as freaked out or angry as I’d been earlier, just awkward. A whole lot of awkward. I didn’t owe Vaughn any explanation for what happened, but I knew the weight of last Friday hung over us like a dark grey storm cloud ready to let loose a torrential downpour.
He studied me hard, his intense expression causing my stomach to do a few twists. “What happened, Jaz?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure you saw the video. You know what happened.”
“Why would you go anywhere with Archer Vega?” The way Vaughn spoke his name, like it was acid on his tongue…well, I couldn’t really blame him.
“Because I took a page out of a guy’s book and thought with my dick, okay?” My crass comment caused Vaughn to blink, and I immediately slapped a hand over my mouth, as if trying to push the words back in.
Too late to take them back.
When neither of us spoke for a while, I added, “I made the mistake of trusting him, but don’t worry—I’ve learned my lesson. I can’t trust anyone around here.”
Vaughn’s mouth thinned into a line, and he nodded. “You’re right.”
I heaved a sigh; I knew I was right. I didn’t need his affirmation of it. What really shocked me, however, were his next words.
“But not everyone here is out to get you.”
My eyes met his stare, and I felt…uneasy under it. Did I compare Vaughn to Dante? I shouldn’t have. Dante was an overconfident, wild guy who held no hesitations about showing off his crazy. Vaughn? Vaughn was quieter, more extreme, somehow. If he held a beast inside, he did a better job at caging it.
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel any better, but…maybe it would be a good thing to have someone like Vaughn have my back. He unnerved people, for obvious reasons.
Why would he help me? I didn’t have anything to give him. I supposed I could tell Jacob to stop investigating the Scotts, but could my conscience allow that to happen, all for the sake of my revenge?
Hmm. Having money on my side would help.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “Who’s not?”
He took his time in saying, “Even though you’re having my family investigated, I’m not, and if my brothers caught wind of what you’re trying to do, I wouldn’t let them come after you.”
“I don’t—” The rest of my fumbling stopped when Vaughn pushed his tray aside, leaning over the table as much as he could, his knuckles laying between us, the recent tattoos flexing on his fingers.
God help me, but I did find him unreasonably attractive.
“You want to make them pay,” he murmured. “I can see it in your eyes. You want them to hurt like the way you hurt at that party.” Pausing, it was a moment before he asked, “Am I wrong?”
For whatever reason, I found I could not lie to him. “No, you’re not.” He was smack dab on the truth, actually. You couldn’t get a better bullseye than he had right now.
And then he said something that took the remainder of my breath away, speaking it so lowly, so seriously…so dangerously I couldn’t help but feel a chill crawl up my spine: “I can help you, Jaz.”
My appetite was gone, and I was faced with a choice I never thought I’d have. What was the price of his help? Was it one I could pay, would it be worth it, or would I regret the choice I felt myself inching towards?
“And why would you do that? You know I don’t have anything to give you,” I spoke, hedging toward my decision already, assuming he meant it.
“There’s always something,” Vaughn murmured, his eyelids dropping as his gaze fell to my mouth, instantly warming my entire core like a fucking furnace.
“What do you want?”
“Nothing right now. But, if you choose to accept my help, the price will come,” he said, “and you’ll have to pay it.”
What could his price possibly be? Clearly, my body hadn’t learned its lesson before, so if his price was anything of a sexual nature, I’d be fine. He knew I didn’t have money, so asking for payment in the form of green was out of the picture.
I spoke the word I knew I might regret later, a word that might haunt my dreams and my nightmares alike, “Okay.” Sometimes, getting into bed with the devil himself was the only way to get what you wanted. The more people I had on my side, the easier it would be to knock Brittany and her crew down a peg.
Vaughn had me tell him exactly what went down Friday. Every little detail I could remember, I told him. I wasn’t sure what reliving Friday’s events would do, but beyond a general plan for revenge, I didn’t have much decided, yet. Getting almost kidnapped by Dante had thrown off my brain a bit.
Hmm. Dante. Was it wrong to wonder where he was right now?
Chapter Seven – Jacob
I’d be the first one to admit, I didn’t get much work done over the weekend. How the fuck could I, when my fucking brain kept replaying Friday night’s events over and over? Jaz had no idea the shit she’d walked into, let alone the shit she narrowly avoided.
Thanks to me, I might add.
All thanks to me.
What would have happened to her if I hadn’t been watching her for my other client? What twisted, sick horrors would’ve happened to Jaz if I hadn’t grabbed her outside the house and helped her walk down the driveway? She might not have made it off the property, someone might’ve dragged her back inside. She’d been drugged, so it was clear someone at that party had hoped to capitalize on that.
The little fuckers. Just because they were in high school did not make them any less dangerous. If anything, they were more dangerous. Kids with money and power—there was nothing worse.
I worked out a lot after I dropped Jaz off near the Fitzpatrick’s house. Practically all weekend I tried to sweat out whatever strange feelings had bubbled inside of me after spending most of the night with her and basically nursing her back to health.
Jaz, like I’d mentioned before, was far too tempting. Her mature face, those big, brown eyes, that long, black hair coupled with those full lips…
She was a walking temptress, and I wouldn’t fall for it.
I worked out all weekend because, having her there, talking with her, feeling her resting against my chest—all nestled and tucked away from the rest of the world—it’d been the farthest thing from wrong. It’d felt nice, and that was something I couldn’t allow.
She was a child, even if she didn’t look it.
That’s when I finally decided I needed to see her, needed to explain what had happened before, years ago. Why I lost my job at the station, my history with the Fitzpatricks, the whole shebang. Surely if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t push me. She could be just a client and nothing else.
That’s what I told myself, anyway, but I couldn’t get it into my head. I stayed in my apartment on Monday, trying to work through the conflict inside of me, but by the time Tuesday rolled around, I figured it was time.
Time to get back to it. Time to see her again, tell her the truth, tell her that our relationship would remain strictly professional—that her falling asleep and cuddling on me that night could never be repeated. I wasn’t going to be her savior. Mr. Anonymous just wanted me to watch her, so that’s wh
at I was going to do. No more interfering, no matter what the consequences might be.
Fuck.
I didn’t think of myself as a good man, but I couldn’t sit back and let her wander into danger, either. It was something I couldn’t control.
After I sent the email to her, I sent a quick update to Mr. Anonymous. I didn’t tell him exactly what happened on Friday, but I did tell him that she got herself into some trouble with a boy. That was putting it lightly, since I’d bet any money that boy planned on raping her, but it was what it was. Mr. Anonymous wouldn’t know the difference.
I didn’t like keeping things from a client—a client who was paying me really, really fucking well—but I also didn’t see why he needed to know every single detail. Hell, I had no idea what made Jaz so important to him, why he’d pay me exorbitant amounts of money to basically stalk her, but I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I needed the money. I wasn’t proud of it.
After this job, maybe I’d have enough to leave Midpark in the rearview mirror. Yeah, that’d be nice. It was almost too much to hope for.
With me, things never worked out.
I spent my anger a bit that morning on the punching bag before heading to the shower. I’d emailed Jaz to meet me at the diner after school—no way in hell was I ever going to bring her back here again. Silly me thought that was that, but when I checked my phone as I headed to the bathroom to shower, I saw she’d replied.
She didn’t want to meet at the diner. She wanted to meet at the school.
No. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to step foot on school grounds, not after what happened last time with Celeste.
I set the phone near the sink in the bathroom, leaning on the counter as I stared at the email. My eyes flicked up, meeting my reflection. A man stared back at me, a stranger. The light brown hair I had was nearly black with sweat, the hazel eyes in the mirror just a tad too dark. I didn’t look like myself, but I supposed that was a good thing.
I guessed it was true what they said about Midpark: there were no good men here. I sure as shit wasn’t one of them, and I’d never pretend to be.
Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2) Page 6
