Consequence: A Dark High School Romance (Holly Oak Academy Book 1)

by G. Bailey

  Without books, I’m not sure I would’ve survived beyond my thirteenth birthday.

  Turning the handle, I push open the door and step inside, not quite expecting to see a guy kissing a woman who’s clearly a bit older.

  And I think she’s the teacher.

  “Oh my God,” the teacher exclaims, jumping off the desk and pushing the guy away.

  He just laughs as he strides over to me, a look of pride on his face. I don’t move as he pushes the door shut with one shove, and then looks down at me. The first thing I notice is his eyes, their smokey topaz colouring sucking me in. I’ve always loved shiny things. His skin is dark, matching his long Cornrows braided hair that is tied back. He smirks, drawing my attention to his lips, which are large and look like they could be really, really good at some naughty things.

  I bet the teacher is well aware of that already. Tut tut.

  She’s frantically patting down her pinstriped suit. “Josh, what if she tells someone?”

  She repeats this a few times but Josh only grins as he steps closer to me. Easy there, tiger. I move one step back until he’s boxing me into the door. He places his large hands flat against the door and leans down, putting us at direct eye level.

  I could get him to move in the blink of an eye.

  But I could also see what he’s going to do.

  The latter wins as I play innocent once more and stay so perfectly still.

  “She won’t say anything, will you?” His voice is so damn deep, and gravelly, that it makes me shiver. It has a slight southern American twang, and damn does it turn me on. “A pretty little thing like you doesn’t want to get in trouble, does she?”

  “You want me to say yes, don’t you?” I spit back at him, my tone just as condescending as I tilt my head to the side. “You want to make trouble for me.”

  “Darling, you see right through me.” He leans down closer, so close I’m stuck breathing in his smokey cinnamon scent, and the peppermint from his toothpaste. It’s not bad, to my annoyance. It’s a little intoxicating. “What’s your name?”

  “Regan Hall,” I answer flatly.

  “Joshua Dedican. Nice to meet you,” he says and leans back, crossing his arms. “If you mutter a word about this, I’m going to make you pay for it. Understand?”

  I only grin as I push past him and find a desk that is empty near the back. I sit down and cross my arms as Joshua tries to calm down the teacher who appears even more frantic about her scandal. It’s honestly quite amusing. I can’t say I’m not going to have fun reporting this later on, because I am. Mrs Bitch—I mean, Mrs Beach is going to love me for this gossip, and hopefully, she will stay off my back if she thinks I’m a goody two shoes.

  What can I say? I’m a jealous bitch and I quite like Josh Dedican. Plus, I need his full attention if I’m going to find a way to kill him later on. He has a bigger secret than just screwing around with our teacher, and just like with Hunter Cross, I’m going to find it out. While I really don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m actually looking forward to finding out what delicious sin Joshua has committed.

  The classroom fills with students only a few moments later and I watch Joshua sit in the seat in front of me, his broad shoulders causing a shadow to slide over my desk. He looks back just once, and I know what he’s saying.

  Don’t tell.

  Shame he doesn’t realise exactly who he’s dealing with. I’m Regan Hall, and my secret is worth more than this one.

  Even assassins have fears.

  Mine is general sports.

  I know that’s such a silly thing to be afraid of. It’s not the physical requirement that puts me off, either. It’s that I need to do it in front of so many people. That’s the good thing about being an assassin: we hunt alone.

  We kill on our own.

  But all of this fitness malarky in front of other students is my idea of hell.

  The only plus side is that Anne is here. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen her. The last time we were together was at the funeral, but my vision had been obstructed by so many tears that I barely saw her. I had also been filled with too much shame and regret to talk to anyone. Anne simply held my hand throughout the service, reminding me that I would honestly be lost without her. I’m not even certain I’d be alive if it weren’t for her.

  My dearest mother forgot to mention that Anne was transferring to this hell hole academy with me, but it doesn’t completely surprise me. Anne’s parents are senior cops that are determined to keep her safe from the world and they wouldn’t leave her in London where someone just died in those circumstances. With Anne also at this academy, it’s like having a touch of my old home here, my real home, and it makes me smile.

  “Are you ready?” Anne asks, knocking on my cubicle door in the female changing rooms. “Everyone’s heading out to the field.”

  “Just a minute,” I say, pulling on my cotton shorts.

  All the other girls, including Anne, got dressed together. I decided to use one of the cubicles. The last thing I want is people questioning me about are the scars on my body—all thanks to my victims’ futile attempts to stay alive. The worst scar is the one I gained on my sixteenth birthday. It runs down the length of my spine. The target was called David Ray Jamieson. He was forty-three, divorced with twin children, a Civil Servant who just so happened to owe my father a lot of money and had resorted to blackmailing his way out of it.

  Life tip number one—never try to blackmail an assassin.

  Father thought it was time for me to take on a more substantial target, so he gave me the hit. I had crept into David’s house while his children slept in the other bedroom. They were young, around five or six, and I remember locking their door before sneaking into David’s bedroom.

  After the hardest fight for my life, I managed to put a bullet through his skull. But it wasn’t easy. He’d used a piece of broken glass to slice into my back, and he would’ve ripped out my spine like he was gutting a fish if I hadn’t reached my gun in time. It was hands down the most terrifying experience of my life. It was like he knew I was coming that night.

  To this day, I’m still not sure how I reached my mother’s car before passing out. The only reason I’m even alive is that my parents have one of the best surgeons in the United Kingdom at their beck and call. He flew out that night, and one kidney transplant and several broken ribs later, I was forced to stay home that whole summer. As my mother always says, a scar is a trophy of survival. Better to have plenty of scars than be dead. I just think of them as reminders that while I didn’t die that day, it’s only a matter of time.

  “I’m ready,” I tell Anne, opening the door.

  She’s wearing the same light grey t-shirt and shorts like me, but she’s much smaller and on the frailer side. Her hair is gathered into a messy bun at the top of her head and her normally pale skin is slightly flushed which is unusual for her. Even her hazel eyes don’t have any dark bags framing them. I wonder if her new medication is working?

  A sharp pang tears through my stomach. I still can’t believe my best friend is dying.

  We grew up on the same street in London since we were seven. We even moved into our houses the same week. She had a cool Raleigh Chopper bike, and she loved my electric scooter, so we swapped them when our parents weren’t looking, and from then on, we became best friends. She’s literally been there for me through everything. Despite that doesn’t know about my secret or my dark past, I can still trust her wholeheartedly, and that’s rare to come by in people.

  I never in a million years thought her headaches and nosebleeds, which turned out to be a tumour, would become a terminal illness that is slowly but surely killing her. Anne is still adamant to live a normal as can be life, though. She’s such an inspiration to me. I aspire to be just like her…strong, kind, and not a coldblooded killer.

  “Are you ready to kick ass?” I ask, linking arms with her.

  Anne giggles. “As always, girl. Let’s go catch up with everyone.”
As we leave the changing rooms, she adds, “Do you still hate sports?”

  “Fuck yeah. There’s a special place in hell for the teachers who force me to do it.”

  She shakes her head at me, smiling weakly. “It’s a little ironic that you’re the most confident, bad-ass girl I know and yet you’re terrified of jumping around like an idiot in public.”

  “Have you seen these girls?” I point to my breasts. “Two words: Black eyes. I don’t fancy abstaining more injuries than necessary.”

  Another weak smile, followed by a yawn. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be much involved today either.”

  “Are you still having those bad headaches?”

  She nods. “Always. Mum’s taking me for another scan on Friday.”

  My heart clenches at the words. I hate hospitals and I especially hate the thought of Anne being in one. I’m always worried I’ll never see her again.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” I offer gently, touching her arm.

  Her eyes light up a little and she smiles. “No, I’ll be okay. Anyway, what about you? How are you finding the academy?”

  We step onto the field where all the others have gathered. I spot Charlie May, who scrunches her face up at Anne before turning away to talk to another girl. I glare at the back of her skull. I don’t like that look she just gave my best friend.

  “Well?” Anne probes, nudging me on the shoulder.

  “It’s…interesting for sure. Lots of secrets, drama, and gossip. You know, my kind of place. Not.”

  A tiny old woman in a tracksuit blows a whistle and waves everyone over. “Come on, gather around.”

  Anne drags me over to hear what torture the teacher has lined up for us today. She whispers the teacher’s name, Ms. Lyons, and I’m surprised that for such a small woman, she has an incredibly deep and powerful voice. I spot Hunter talking to another boy who looks almost identical to him. His jet-black hair is shorter and he’s a few inches taller. He must be Hunter’s brother, Nathan Cross. According to Daisy, he’s a year older than us, so I’m not sure why he’s here today. Maybe he got held back a year? Not that it really matters. He’ll be pushing up daisies soon with the others enough.

  Mrs. Lyons blows her whistle again. “I want two volunteers to be the team captains.”

  I look away, but the old woman’s small, pig-like eyes latch onto me.

  “Ah, Miss Hall. Perfect. This will help you fit right in.” She throws me a red ball, which I catch on instinct. Dodgeball isn’t my favourite sport but it could be a lot worse. “Hunter Cross, step forward please. You’ll each pick eight players. Go on. We haven’t got all day.”

  Hunter smirks at me. “Ladies first.”

  I return his smirk. “Why, thank you. Such a gentleman.”

  I choose Anne first. Hunter picks Imogen, much to her obvious reluctance. I then pick his brother, Nathan, who arches an eyebrow as he comes over to stand with me. I pick a few random people, too, including Charlie May. Once we’ve picked our teams, I turn to Nathan.

  “Hope you don’t mind being on the new girl’s team,” I say quietly, dragging my bottom lip in between my teeth.

  My inner Regan is totally gagging at how innocent I sound. But this is all part of my Shy New Girl persona. I need to keep up this pretence for as long as possible. A single crack in the facade could expose not only their sins, but my own, too.

  Nathan runs a hand through his hair, his bowed lips pulled into a lopsided smile. “I don’t mind. It means I get to help kick my brother’s ass.”

  I grin at that. “Your help will certainly be useful. Does he have any weak spots?”

  He snorts. “Try his face.”

  Ms. Lyons signals me and Hunter to join her. “Place your balls on the line and then join the others.”

  We do as she says. Plastic cones have been littered around the field, along with thick chalk lines, to map out our court. Ms. Lyons places two more balls at either side of mine and Hunter’s, then steps back and raises her hand. I’ve played this game enough in previous schools to understand the rules. Five balls in total, the two on each teams’ left belongs to them, and the remaining two belong to whichever captain can grab it first. At least, that’s how I played it in the past.

  I look over at Hunter, and he’s grinning at me, hunched over like he’s about to run a marathon. If Nathan told me to go for his face, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing, preferably hard enough to give him a serious brain injury. Unlikely to happen, but one can certainly dream.

  Before we start, Ms. Lyons comes over and asks Anne if she would like to sit this one aside. Anne is quick to brush off her off like she always does, and at the sound of Ms. Lyon’s whistle, I lurch forward to grab the extra ball.

  Nathan and Charlie seize our allocated balls and start to throw them at the opposing team. I just manage to touch the extra one when Hunter slides his foot in front of my face and kicks it behind him.

  “Try better next time,” he sneers, only giving me more incentive to crush him.

  I dodge out of the way before he can hit me. He looks surprised at my agility. He hasn’t seen anything yet. I join my team, picking up any of the balls I can get my hands on, and aim for Hunter. It’s comforting to see Anne actually enjoying herself. Hell, I’m not hating this as much as I normally would. Maybe it’s because I have a specific target.

  While everyone launches balls at each other, I keep Hunter in sight and aim only for him. I almost smack him right between his eyes, but he’s quick to dodge me and throws his ball my way. I duck out of the way, laughing at his pathetic throw. There’s tension crackling between us like static electricity, and I love it.

  Crave it.

  The adrenalin.

  The way he glares at me like he wants to fuck my brains out, and the way I look back at him like he’s a prized cut of meat. I’m the predator and he’s the prey. He might think otherwise, but I’m about to prove him wrong.

  I dive for one of the balls, and mustering all my strength, I throw it at his smug face.

  It hits him—bingo!—and he falls back, startled. He touches his bleeding nose and glances down at his finger. Ms. Lyons whistles at him, signalling he’s been called out. I watch his other hand dig into his ball, turning his knuckles a peroxide white. A look of murder shadows his face and it gives me a thrill. I might not have given him a concussion or brain injury but blood is still blood. All things considered, this hasn’t been a total waste of time.

  I move away to join my team. We have the most players already which means we’re winning.

  Nathan high-fives me. “Good one, Cap’n.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  “Pleasure was all mine. Next time, aim for his balls. That’ll really piss him off.”

  I laugh, bending over to pick up one of the balls. There’s clearly no love lost between these brothers. That’s actually a good thing. I can use Nathan’s help to get this over and done with sooner.

  Anne lets out a scream. I spin around and find her crouched over, covering her face with her hands.

  Panic grips hold of me and I rush over to her side. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  Before she can answer, Ms. Lyons marches over, frantically blowing her whistle to stop the game. Anne does, however, point across the court. I follow her finger, and there’s Hunter smirking at me, no longer carrying his ball. What. The fuck.

  A veil drops over my eyes, and all I can see is red.

  Hunter turns to walk away but I’m faster than his cowardice. I reach him before he can scurry off, and I grab his t-shirt and pull him down, knocking him off balance. My heart pounding in my ears, I can scarcely register what I’m doing. I’m all rage and instinct at this point, my body filled with white-hot fury, and Hunter knows that. I can see the realisation in his eyes—the fear and shock quickly settling in and clouding his features.

  He deliberately struck Anne just so he could get back at me. Now he’s regretting his move. So he fucking should be! He will suffer d
early for hurting Anne; no one hurts my best friend and gets away with it. But for now, with so many witnesses around me, a light warning will have to suffice.

  I pull him down, bringing our noses so close I can feel his breath tickling my cheeks. “If you ever touch my friend again, I will shove your dick so far up your arse you’ll be giving yourself a fucking blowjob!”

  I half expect Hunter to fight back but he doesn’t. Coward.

  Ms. Lyon’s wedges herself between us and pries my fingers off Hunter’s shirt. The rest of the students are gathered around us, some of them smiling and others shooting daggers into my skull. Imogen, I notice, looks like she’s just been told she’s won the lottery.

  “Wow, new girl. That was pretty fun to watch,” Nathan tells me, tapping my shoulder. “You did good.”

  I’m still too worked up to respond to him. If I do, I’m pretty sure I’ll be telling Nathan to watch his back.

  Because he’s next.

  “Daisy, what classes do I have today?” I ask as I roll my black, thigh-length socks up and straighten the pink bows at the front. I’ve decided to tug my hair up into a tight bun, with a few slides holding it in.

  “Maths, followed by a study class. If I may suggest an idea, the beauty parlour is quiet on Tuesday afternoons. It may be the perfect time to visit,” she says, and I roll my eyes. I don’t have time to have my nails done again or a massage. Every day is important—too important to spend getting pampered.

  “Are you saying I’m not pretty, Daisy?”

  “Everyone in the world is beautiful, Miss Hall.”

  I chuckle at the robotic answer as I stand up and slip my shoes on. Grabbing my bag off my bed, I make my way to the cafeteria for breakfast, knowing Anne is waiting for me there. She’s an early bird, always has been since I’ve known her, whereas I don’t like mornings and never have done. Thank goodness for coffee or my hit list would be triple its length by now.

  As soon as I get to the bottom of the steps and push the door to the girl’s rooms open, I hear the commotion. I jog down the hallway and around the corner, following the noise to see half the school in the main part of the castle, crowded around the door to the reception.