by Becca Steele
TRICK ME TWICE
BECCA STEELE
Trick Me Twice
Copyright © 2020 by Becca Steele
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing by One Love Editing
Proofreading by Sid Damiano
Cover by Opulent Swag and Designs
Becca Steele
www.authorbeccasteele.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s crazy imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Playlist
Trick Me - Kelis
Supalonely - BENEE, Gus Dapperton
Ready or Not - Fugees
To Be Young - Anne-Marie, Doja Cat
Still Don’t Know My Name - Labrinth
Trouble - Stripped - Mabel
Standing in the Rain - Action Bronson, Mark Ronson
Don’t Come Around - Kodaline
Good In Goodbye - Madison Beer
Acid Rain - Cimorelli
On Hold - The xx
Bloodshot - Dove Cameron
Hurts Like Hell - Madison Beer, Offset
you broke me first - Tate McRae
Teenager in Love - Madison Beer
Unbelievable - Why Don’t We
The Reason - Hoobastank
Find the playlist on Spotify or YouTube
Contents
Author’s note
Halloween
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Thank You
Acknowledgments
Also by Becca Steele
About the Author
Author’s note
The author is British, and British English spellings and phrases are used throughout.
For Ivy
Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.
Oscar Wilde
Halloween
“This is an emergency broadcast announcing the commencement of the annual Fright Night. When the siren sounds, let the games begin. Good luck to you all.”
As the unnecessarily dramatic, robotic voice faded from the speakers, smoke began swirling through the night air, and the sound of a siren blared all around me. Strobes lit up the area in sharp flashes, illuminating the surroundings for milliseconds at a time before plunging us back into darkness.
Beyond the rides and food stalls, in front of the haunted house, stood a group of masked, hooded figures, dressed in black. The masks glowed with neon LED lights, creating sinister slashes over their eyes and mouths. Most of the guys had green, yellow, or orange masks, but the three centre figures had red, purple, and blue masks.
I immediately knew who they were. The three kings of Alstone High.
Kian, Xavier, and Carter.
The guy in the blue mask seemed to stare right at me, and it felt like my heart stopped. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew it was Carter. I edged closer to the chain-link fence, trying to stay out of his sight.
The sirens suddenly stopped.
His attention was locked on me.
He ran.
I did, too.
1
ONE WEEK EARLIER
I owned this school. I was untouchable.
Sauntering down the hallways of Alstone High with my group of friends, aware of the envious looks thrown our way, even the teachers fawning over us. Most of them, anyway. We were at the top, and Kian, Xavier, and I ruled them all.
And that was the way it was going to stay.
Until one girl ruined it.
“See me after class, Mr. Blackthorne.” My English Lit teacher thumped my desk as he slapped my essay down on it. D. Fuck. If I didn’t keep up my grades, my spot as football team captain was gone. Even worse, I’d have no hope of getting into Alstone College. A degree from there opened more doors than one from Oxford or Cambridge, and if I was going to follow in my dad’s footsteps, I needed to take my place there next year. I gritted my teeth. This was the only class I was struggling in, and it had to be with the one teacher I couldn’t control.
Tearing my gaze away from my paper, my attention shifted to the girl sitting at the desk under the window. Raine Laurent. Plain Raine. Mousey-brown hair scraped back in a tight ponytail, a school uniform that should really be burned, it was so ill-fitting…she had “future librarian” written all over her.
My eyes strayed from the small smile playing across her lips to the paper she was clutching in her hand, and resentment burned through me. How did she get an A, again, and I could only manage a D? Again?
As the bell rang for the end of the class and everyone piled out, I reclined back in my seat, casual and indifferent to everyone’s eyes, but inside I felt my future slipping from my grasp.
“Another D. I expect better from you, Mr. Blackthorne. Your entire future is in jeopardy if you don’t buck your ideas up.” Clenching my jaw, I remained silent, tuning out Prof. Patel’s rant as he laid into me. I focused again in time to hear him say, “I expect a B or above for your next assignment, or you can kiss goodbye to any hope of getting into Alstone College. You may have a provisional acceptance, but remember, confirmation is entirely dependent on your grades.”
When I still didn’t comment, he leaned across the desk towards me, holding his thumb and forefinger up in front of my face, his voice hard and uncompromising. “You’re this close to failing. This is your final warning. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, sir.” I forced the words out.
“Good. You’re dismissed.” He retreated to his desk, and I got the fuck out of there.
The hallway was already empty, most people having left since it was the end of the school day. I headed for my locker to dump my books before I headed over to the field for football training.
Rounding the corner, I saw Raine, closing her locker. Fucking great. The only person around, and the last person I wanted to see. An image flashed in my mind: Raine, holding her A-graded paper, a smug smile on her face.
The simmering anger burned. I stalked up to her, smacking the books out of her hands so they fell to the floor with a crash, and then before I knew what I was doing,
I had her pinned against the lockers with my hands planted either side of her head.
Her harsh intake of breath sounded loud in the corridor, her chest rising and falling against mine. Without any conscious thought, I lowered my hand and wrapped my fingers around her throat.
We both froze for a moment.
What the fuck was I doing?
Her pulse was racing under my grip. Instead of dropping my hand like I meant to, my thumb stroked down the side of her neck.
Her skin was so fucking soft.
I watched with fascination as her chest expanded with a breathy sigh that she desperately tried to stifle. Her hazel eyes widened, her pupils dilating, but she brought up her hands to push me away, swallowing hard under my grip. She placed her palms flat on my chest, barely even putting any effort into her movements. Even if she had, I easily held her in place with my body weight. She was fucking tiny—she didn’t stand a chance against me.
With an effort, I focused on the reason for my anger and reminded myself that this girl was the cause of misery in my life.
“What’s your fucking deal, Laurent? Sitting in class with that smug little smile on your face, thinking you’re so much better than the rest of us. Do I need to remind you of your place?”
Her heart-shaped mouth tightened into a thin line, and she stilled.
Tension grew heavy in the air as she held my gaze. Why wasn’t she backing down?
“Anything you want to say?”
A gleam of defiance entered her eyes, but she remained silent.
I released my grip, and she slumped backwards with a harsh exhale.
“Get out of my sight.” Stepping over her fallen books, I strode over to my locker and slammed my thumb on the fingerprint sensor. Behind me, I could hear Raine scrabbling around to pick up all her shit, and then she fled, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
D. Fuck.
“Let me help you with that.”
Standing next to one of the honey-coloured stone pillars outside the front entrance of Alstone High, I paused in the process of picking up my backpack. My stomach flipped at the low drawl, and not in a good way. I turned my head to see Carter Blackthorne, self-proclaimed king of the school, eyeing me with arrogant disdain. The football god with a muscled body that shouldn’t be allowed on an eighteen-year-old, expressive eyes that reminded me of autumn leaves, all browns and golds, depending on the light, and mussed, chocolatey hair falling across his forehead. He was undeniably hot, and he knew it.
Looks weren’t everything, though, especially as far as I was concerned. As well as his general arrogance, lately he seemed to get some kind of sick pleasure from tormenting me when no one else was around to witness it, and I had no idea why. I kept my head down and tried to stay out of his way, other than Mondays, when it was unavoidable.
Unlucky for me, we were sort-of neighbours, and ever since my uncle had divorced my aunt and left us to fend for ourselves more or less, she and Carter’s parents had struck up a friendship. They lived in a huge mock-Tudor mansion on the corner of one road, and my aunt’s and my smaller house was also on the corner of my road, meaning our houses were perpendicular to one another.
Carter seemed to take personal offence at their friendship—I guess we weren’t his kind of people, or something. Or at least, I wasn’t. I wasn’t rich or popular or outgoing, and I didn’t care about impressing the in-crowd. I remained invisible to most of them, but Carter? There was no avoiding him. Especially not now.
“I’m good, thanks,” I bit out, swiping my bag from the floor before he could grab it. My head was a mess, thanks to our earlier interaction at the lockers, but right now, my strongest emotion towards him was anger.
“What’s the matter, Laurent? Too high and mighty to allow me to carry your bag now, huh?”
“I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bag, thank you.” I turned my back on him.
That was my first mistake. He spun me around, ripping the bag from my hands, inserting himself into my personal space without a second’s hesitation.
“It wasn’t a fucking question, Plain Raine.”
I set my mouth in a flat line, refusing to let him see how he affected me, even though every part of me trembled with awareness at his presence. His body heat made me suck in a breath, his hard muscles pressing into my breasts, his black-and-green football uniform a dark contrast against the crisp white of my school blouse. He was all hot and sweaty from his training, and that should’ve been enough to make me take a step back, but no. Instead I found myself breathing him in, mesmerised by the rise and fall of his chest, the way he stood tall and unyielding, feet planted on either side of mine, as he looked down at me.
His eyes. There was no warmth in those autumn depths as he took me in. “Come on.”
Sighing, I followed him towards the car park. There was no point in refusing.
Why? Why did he have to be my neighbour? Why did I have to be on his radar, now? All exacerbated by this completely ridiculous arrangement that meant I had to rely on him for a lift home—to say it was torture for both of us wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
It had all started last month, at the beginning of our final year at school. I’d mentioned in passing to my aunt that the after-school drama club was looking for students to work on costumes and set design. The next thing I knew, my aunt and Carter’s mum had come up with this plan which forced us into riding back from school together since he had football training after school on Mondays. So, while I was grateful that I got to be a part of the drama club and do something I loved, my one highlight of the week was always tainted by the fact that I knew I’d end up in some kind of confrontation with him.
It was clear that Carter’s parents felt some sense of duty towards me—pity, even. I hated being a charity case, but I sucked it up so I could get to do something I loved, and with the threat of his allowance being cut, Carter had to play chauffeur to me every Monday. We were both bitter about it, though.
The drive home was silent. My mind replayed the moment when he’d held me against the lockers earlier. The dark look in his eyes as he’d effortlessly gripped my throat, the fear, immediately followed by the completely unexpected jolt of lust and excitement that had shot through me, shocking me into silence… The entire duration of drama club had flown by in a blur as I struggled to process my thoughts and my reaction to him.
I’d liked what he’d done to me.
What was wrong with me?
I couldn’t take my eyes off Carter’s hands flexing on the steering wheel, the way he held the tension in his body, his jaw set as he stared straight ahead. The low autumn sun streamed through the windows, the trees either side of us a riot of rich browns and golds, but the beauty didn’t penetrate the darkness surrounding us inside the car.
We turned onto my road, and Carter pulled up at the bottom of my driveway. Looking out of the windscreen, I noticed the front gates were closed, which meant my aunt was out at work. I sighed. Not that I wasn’t used to spending time alone, but I could’ve used some company, a distraction from the thoughts running through my mind.
“Problem?”
I jolted out of my thoughts at Carter’s impatient tone. “No problem.” Swiping my bags from the floor, I fumbled for the door handle. Then I paused, briefly closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to steady my voice. “There is a problem, actually.”
His gaze swung to mine, and he raised a challenging brow. “You…” I swallowed. “Why do you hate me so much?”
The darkness surrounding us grew thick and suffocating, reflected in his eyes. He reached out his hand to my face, and then he suddenly gripped my jaw, his fingers digging into my skin.
“You know what my feelings are towards you? Indifferent. In order to hate you, I’d have to care about you. You’re nothing to me. Insignificant.”
Nothing to me. Insignificant.
I should have been glad of his words, but to my horror I felt tears pricking my eyes, and my lip trembled.
Tearing
away from his grip and yanking my door open, I fled the car.
He roared away from my front gates, turning the corner and disappearing from sight before the first tear fell.
That night, my dreams were haunted by emotions and memories I’d done my hardest to suppress. Even though I’d put my past behind me, Carter’s words had pierced through to the part of me that was still a small, scared little girl who felt worthless and unloved.
2
“Listen up.” I was in the cafeteria with my best mates, Xavier and Kian. “Why don’t we make Fright Night more interesting?”
After the annual tradition of trick or treat pranks got way out of hand and ended up with the tragic death of a student, this year the county council had organised a massive Halloween carnival they were calling Fright Night, in the vague hope we’d hang out there rather than terrorise the locals. Everyone expected Kian, Xavier, and I to plan something, and we weren’t going to disappoint.
“What you thinking?” Kian turned to me, interest sparking in his eyes.
“What if we add some stakes to this game?”
