Broken: A High School Bully Romance (Athole Academy Book 1)

by Vi Lily

  They got to the door with Ben following close behind, but his dad saw him and put the gun to Beth’s head. Ben put his hands up and took a few steps back.

  “Easy Dad,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage, considering. “Why don’t you just let Beth go… get in your car and take off. We won’t call the police.”

  His father smirked. “First of all, no. Beth is coming with me. I wanted Gwen, but she’s the next best thing.” Ben didn’t even want to think about the fact that his father “wanted Gwen,” and why.

  “Second, there’s no reason for you to call the cops. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Again, Ben felt shock at the realization that the man was seriously insane. He wondered when, and how, that had happened.

  He thought back over the years and realized that yeah, his dad had been losing it for a while. He’d always been self-centered and the entire family had to walk on eggshells so they didn’t piss him off and get subjected to one of his famous rages — the kind that meant broken objects and scared family members.

  His mother had called her husband a narcissist. Ben wasn’t real sure what that was, but if it meant selfish douchebag, then yeah, that described his dad to a tee.

  “Okay, Dad,” he said in a calm voice while giving Beth a wide-eyed look that he hoped said, Do not do anything to antagonize the crazy person.

  “Let me just get the door for you,” he offered, like he was helping the man unload groceries. His dad was so far off center that he probably didn’t even think the offer was unusual. Instead, he just grinned at him.

  “Thanks, kiddo,” he said amicably as Ben reached for the door. As he did, he gave Beth a quick look and darted his eyes down to the duffle bag behind her. Thankfully, she caught on right away. She made a groaning sound and stumbled, like she was faint or something.

  Terrible actress, Ben thought. But he watched as she grabbed one of the trophies out of the bag and hid it behind her leg as his dad pulled her back upright.

  “Sorry,” she told him. “Just a little dizzy. All the excitement, I guess.”

  His dad actually grinned at her. “Yeah, I can see how you’d be excited,” like he was some amazing catch and she was lucky that he was taking her away.

  “Okay, Dad, well, have a good trip and keep in touch!” Ben said with probably too much enthusiasm as he pulled the door open all the way. His dad reached out to pat him on the back and that was when Beth took her shot.

  She whacked his head hard with the trophy, which broke and the little figure kicking a soccer ball went skidding across the tile floor.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t hard enough, because his dad didn’t go down. Instead, he jerked and the gun went off.

  And Beth collapsed on the floor, blood pouring from her head.

  Epilogue

  B EN UNCEREMONIOUSLY dropped the flowers beside the grave and straightened as he stared at the writing engraved on the plaque. It was wrong. The dates were too close together. They were accurate, but so wrong.

  No one should die that young.

  The dash between the numbers of birth and death, the sum of a lifetime. One that should have been filled with laughter and love. With more joy than sorrow, more smiles than frowns, more peace than strife. And a hell of a lot more time.

  He tensed as the familiar feeling of guilt swamped over him. If only he’d known that the time would be so short, he wouldn’t have wasted so much of it. He’d left so much undone.

  Too many things had been left unsaid. Too many things left unforgiven.

  He turned and moved away, the time spent at the gravesite as short as her life had been. But he wasn’t one to dwell on what lie beneath his feet; he’d rather keep his memories — the good ones, anyway — tucked safely away, where they could warm his soul as the sun warmed his face.

  Despite the chill in his heart, it was a beautiful spring day, all traces of the hard winter nothing but a distant memory. He wished that day, too, would release its hold on his heart and retreat into the dark recesses of his memories.

  He sighed heavily; it had been a year, but that day was still as fresh as if it had just happened that morning. It was something that was becoming all too familiar, the pain. He knew it would be with him for a very long time.

  Slender arms wrapped around him, disrupting his thoughts. He tipped his head to the side to press his cheek against soft hair. Gwen squeezed him a little tighter.

  “She knew you loved her. That’s all that matters. And she wouldn’t want you to be here, bleeding sadness all over her grave.” She squeezed him again and tugged.

  “C’mon, big bro. We have places to be.”

  Ben nodded and turned, throwing his arm over his sister’s shoulders as he led her out of the cemetery. He walked with her to the passenger side of the Jeep and opened the door for her.

  “Can we get something to eat? I’m freaking starving.” Ben laughed. Of course she was; she was always hungry.

  “When aren’t you starving?” Gwen asked, voicing his thoughts.

  Beth laughed. “You try being eight months’ preggers and see how hungry you are all the time, witch.”

  Gwen swatted at her sister-in-law as she climbed in the back. “No thank you. I have no desire to imitate a baby hippo waddling around.”

  Before his wife could retort, Ben leaned in and kissed her as he laid his hand over her swollen belly. He grinned against her lips when Isaiah Joseph — he’d put his foot down on the Penn rhymes when Beth wanted to name their son “Len” — kicked at his hand.

  “My boy’s gonna be a soccer star like his daddy,” Beth announced with a wince as she shifted to try to get more comfortable.

  Ben grinned at her and ran a hand down her soft hair that was so light he imagined it was the same color as angels’ wings. She’d had it cut into what she called a “bob” after his dad had accidentally shot her. Thankfully, it had just been a graze, but it had taken a good chunk out of her skull right below her part, so Beth had wanted bangs to cover the scar.

  He closed the Jeep’s door and walked around the back and stood there, breathing heavily of the crisp air. Whenever he thought back to that day, the day he thought he’d lost the love of his life before he’d even gotten the chance to show her how much she meant to him, to spend a lifetime showing her, he’d feel so sick that he’d nearly throw up. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get past that feeling.

  It was also the day he’d lost his father — and found out that he’d also lost his mother.

  After Beth had been shot, his dad had freaked out and ran out the door, leaving Ben holding Beth’s limp body to his, screaming her name, thinking she was dead, not just unconscious.

  Ken Penn had fled like the coward he’d been, gun in hand, and had been immediately gunned down by two officers with the Bearing Police Department.

  When Beth had called Gwen to ask her what she wanted packed, she’d been interrupted by his father showing up, looking for his daughter. Ben knew his sick, disgusting dad had wanted to kidnap Gwen, taking her away so that he could have her to himself. The man was seriously deranged.

  Through the forgotten cell phone, Gwen had listened in horror as her father threatened Beth, and Gwen had hung up and called the police. They’d arrived just as the shot had been fired. Assuming the worst, they’d opened fire on the man waving the gun as he left the house.

  Ben always thought good riddance whenever he remembered seeing his father falling through the open door, four bullets buried deep in his body.

  It turned out that the mansion in Oak Place was Ken Penn’s second crime stop of the day. First, he’d gone to McLeod, a city two hours to the south, where he’d discovered his wife was living after she’d run off — yep, with Beth’s dad. The two had met when Jack Hanson had gone to the office of the Oak Place community manager because his code for the gate had failed.

  The two had hit it off immediately — Jack feeling like he wasn’t needed any longer since his wife had new wealth, and Jen Penn needing a ma
n in her life who wanted her, and not a slew of young girls… including his own daughter.

  That was something Ben wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive his mother for — the fact that she’d known about his father molesting Gwen all along. He doubted he’d ever be able to forgive her, even if Gwen had.

  Posthumously, though. That day Ken Penn had lost his life, he’d also taken the life of his estranged wife… and had nearly killed Jack in the process. But he’d survived.

  And after he got out of the hospital with a two-inch scar in his chest from where the trauma surgeon had extracted two bullets, he divorced Nadine after finding out how crappy she’d treated Beth.

  Ben loved Jack for that. He might not have a father now, but he had a great father-in-law.

  He and Beth had only been married five months, having gone to a Justice of the Peace when Beth found out she was pregnant. With all the craziness that had gone on last spring, she’d somehow managed to forget to get another birth control shot. She had tearfully told him she was pregnant at Christmas last year.

  It was the best present he’d ever gotten.

  Even better than finding out last fall that New England wanted to sign him. He’d been playing with them for two and a half months and was so far loving every minute. Turns out that he loved soccer, once the demands of Ken Penn were no longer hovering over him.

  The best part was that the team’s stadium was just half an hour away from Harvard. While he still had away games, most of his time was spent close to Beth.

  They’d rented an apartment in Stoneham, not too far from Cambridge and had asked Gwen to move with them. But she’d wanted to stay at Athole Academy for some reason Ben had never figured out, so Glen and Sandy had offered to let her move in with them. Ben figured his sister-in-law only agreed so that she’d have a live-in babysitter.

  School was out for the year and he had a three-day break from games, so he and Beth had made the trip back to the area to see friends and family. Not Beth’s — she refused to talk to her mother or brother, even after they both begged for her forgiveness after the original video was sent out. He didn’t blame her. They weren’t there for her when she needed them most. And since Jack had moved back to California after the divorce, they only got to see him through internet chats.

  Since they were in the area, Gwen had insisted they visit their mother’s grave. Ben hadn’t wanted to; as far as he was concerned, it was just a parking spot in the dirt. His mother wasn’t there. And even if she had been there, standing in front of him, he wasn’t sure what he’d say to her.

  It didn’t matter. He had a new life now. He had a new family, one that wasn’t going to be filled with dirty secrets and broken beyond all repair. One that would know they were loved, protected, cherished. There would never be backstabbing or betrayal.

  He’d make damn sure of that.

  The passenger door opened then. “Hey, Penn, get a move on! Starving pregnant lady here needing chicken nuggets and onion rings! Ooh, and maybe a chocolate shake…”

  Ben laughed as he walked to the driver’s door. “Yes, dear. Whatever your little heart desires.”

  Funny thing was, he meant it.

  If you liked this book, you might like Ariel and Alex’s story in Beaten:

  KARMA, THY NAME IS BITCH.

  I’m sure it wasn’t supposed to be in my destiny to be the girl who smelled bad, looked dirty, dressed funny. The girl who avoided everyone, who hid in the back of class, away from the looks of utter disgust, the snickers of disdain behind perfectly manicured hands, the scrunched-up noses and overdone gasps of breath.

  I’m a social pariah.

  In a long-ago life, one almost forgotten except for in the dark night when I cry myself to sleep, I was the popular girl. The girl who everyone wanted to be friends with, even though I now know most of those “friendships” were totally fake and superficial.

  My family was among the super rich. I was considered beautiful and funny and smart. I was the girl who most envied, some hated, but the girl everyone wanted to be. I was that girl, the one everyone loved.

  And when everything fell apart, I became the girl everyone loved to hate.

  I suppose it’s a bit of justice that’s come into my life to bite me on my formerly designer-clothed butt. Ashamed to admit there were times in my long-gone privileged past when I had been one of those who snickered behind her hand at some unfortunate soul.

  Karma, thy name is bitch.

  My unwanted life, the one that’s been dropped on me like a crop duster unloading a belly full of cow manure, is built on avoidance. I avoid the other kids in my school, the ones who are quick to make sounds of repulsion whenever I pass by. I avoid the teachers, who aren’t much better than the kids at the snobby academy I attend. I avoid talking. I avoid participating. I avoid my brother.

  But mostly, I avoid Alex.

  Alex Johansen, the biggest jerk in Athole Academy. Alex is a mountain of a man — and I say man, because there really isn’t any way to call someone his size a “boy,” regardless of his age.

  He also has a crappy attitude that matches his size.

  Alex hates everyone and everything and reminds me of the mangy dog in town, the dog who is chained to a tire he drags around like a giant scarlet “O”, for “Obnoxious.” The dog who snaps and snarls at the chain-link fence whenever I pass, trying to take a chunk out of my flesh for daring to get too close to the kingdom he guards. The kingdom of broken furniture and discarded car parts.

  Honestly, Alex is probably worse than that dog.

  He’s never even looked my way, thankfully. But the day he does, I’m pretty sure he’ll pound me into the pretentious European tile that lines the floors at Athole.

  It sucks, realizing a guy his size would use his strength on those smaller, weaker. I probably would have argued against that myself, if I hadn’t seen him grab Beth Hanson in the dining room and pull his fist back, ready to shatter her face all because someone tripped the poor girl and she’d splashed her food on Alex.

  Beth had been saved by Ben Penn that day, thank God.

  After that, I’ve really gone out of my way to avoid the blond giant, afraid he’ll one day notice me and destroy me just for existing, and for daring to breathe the same air as he.

  It isn’t hard to avoid him, because he’s so easy to spot. He’s as big as Ben, the academy’s Samoan soccer star, maybe even bigger. But Ben is nice, sweet even. Alex is… not. He prowls the halls like an invading Viking marauder, looking for the next abbey he can torch, the next victim he can torment.

  To be fair, I’ve never seen Alex actually pick on anyone. In all honesty, he seems to avoid others almost as avidly as I do. But God help anyone who has the nerve to cross him in any way. Then, I’m sure the pin would be pulled on a very lethal, very large grenade.

  Athole Academy doesn’t have a football team. Our town is all about soccer. If we did have a football team, though, I’m pretty sure Alex could be relied on to be the entire defensive line.

  He is the Academy’s heavyweight wrestler though, and we’re favored to take State this year mostly thanks to Alex. I think the other wrestlers stepped up their “game” just to keep from dragging the rest of the team down and pissing Alex off.

  No one wants that.

  There have been stories going around, rumors. Tales of Alex moving to our town of Bearing because he’d been kicked out of a boarding school in the UK after almost killing a teacher. And it had been like the fourth school that had happened at.

  Who knows, though. I don’t put much stock in the stories. Rumors are like the plague; they destroy lives and are spread by rats.

  Thankfully, I only have a few more months of avoiding everyone at school before I get a break. Then school will be out, my junior year will be under my belt, and I’ll be able to hopefully work fulltime for the summer. Lord knows I need the money.

  It’s funny in a pathetic, sob story kinda way, that I’m attending one of the most exclusive schools in the
country — and the school with the country’s highest tuition. And no, I’m not here on a scholarship. Athole is too freaking snobby to offer scholarships; they wouldn’t want their million-dollar tile being smudged by dirty less-thans.

  What’s seriously funny is that I’m the chief of the less-thans, smudging the tile with my dirty, too-small shoes. I’m also soiling the upholstery on the fancy student desk chairs with my two-sizes-too-small school uniform that’s always just this side of filthy. And my barely-washed body stinks up the place where the beautiful people pretend people like me don’t exist.

  I have the “privilege” of going to the most exclusive high school in the country because four years’ of tuition was paid in full at the beginning of my freshman year by my super rich parents. So, even if the administration and student population wished I didn’t get my dirty cooties all over the Academy, there isn’t a damn thing they can do about it. They’re stuck with me.

  During winter break of my freshman year over two years ago, my parents disappeared. The Academy doesn’t know that, though. The town of Bearing doesn’t know that. The state doesn’t know. No one except my brother, Devon, and I know.

  Mom and Dad went on vacation to some island I’ve never heard of and just never came back. Their cells went straight to voicemail and eventually the numbers became someone else’s. Devon and I had no information about a hotel, airlines, or anything at all to track them.

  Dad was a trust fund kid and never worked a day in his life. Mom had made millions as an independent investment broker, before retiring at the ripe old age of thirty-five. Neither had employers, employees or family. Other than Devon and me, there was no one to look for them.

  We didn’t put a lot of effort into searching, honestly. At first, we tried, but then Devon decided that the search was just going to get the authorities involved and neither one of us wanted to end up as rich foster kids.