“After the other day... I needed to apologize,” he answers.
The honesty on his face has me caving in. He’s a chink in my armor. Probably always will be.
“I can’t force my friendship on you, but I miss you, Colton, so fucking much.”
He abandoned you, my mind parries.
I stare at him longingly, unable to escape how he affects me. My heart not wanting to see what’s right in front of me. He must see my yearning because he steps closer, holding my jaw. Tenderness meets me, so warm and welcoming. Human touch, you never realize how much it matters until it’s happening after a long fast without it.
He abandoned Cass, my mind reminds. Making me dizzy but too distracted by his silver eyes.
“I like the piercings,” he adds, “especially the hip ones.”
“Oh, the hip ones? Couldn’t tell you noticed with how you ogled my tits,” I grumble, ignoring everything inside, yelling at me to walk away.
He chuckles, kissing my nose.
What are you doing?
The nagging voice in the back of my head telling me he left me alone, didn’t come to Cassidy’s funeral, and isn’t here with good intentions is ever-present.
“Sorry, babe. Those are fucking hot.”
Babe. He can’t call me that.
“Ten—”
“Shh.”
He silences me with a kiss. Our mouths meld, and the curtain barely held up of anger and resentment bows out with how he takes control of our mouths’ movements. He grips my hip with one hand, his thumb tracing the barbell there while his other holds my throat. I like it there, his hand. It’s where it belongs.
He pulls away, placing his forehead against mine, ragged breaths the only sounds leaving us both. This tension we’ve always carted is going to get me in trouble. I can’t trust him. I won’t. He’s no longer the person I allowed to take my virginity last year. He’s not the same sweet guy who brought me calla lilies when my period struck. He’s definitely not the guy who stood up for me when Lennox belittled me. He’s a new breed of asshole, and probably only pretending to care about me for whatever game Student Gov has planned. When it mattered most, he chose them. When Cass was buried, none of them showed up. When my life felt hopeless, shredding the last bits of humanity spared by my beating heart, he didn’t say a word. He’s something else now, and that realization is scarier than the fact that I’ve allowed him to touch and kiss me twice within days. The more power given up, the more I lose myself and the less Cass is honored.
“You should go,” I suggest, pulling away, allowing the tiny morsel of pride to stab through me. “This can’t happen, Ten, no matter how good it feels.”
“So, you admit. You still feel it, too.”
“How many chicks did you fuck this summer?” I change the subject.
His face falls, and right there is where his truths are visible. There have been several others. The jealousy gnawing my insides makes zero sense. He owes me nothing. He’s not mine. Never was.
“Colt—”
“Please. If you actually care as much as you pretend, just go. I bet there are tons of chicks who’ll beg to take my place,” I mutter, the bitterness seeping from each word.
“I don’t want anyone else.”
It’s too late, though. I’ve already gone to my dresser and thrown on some panties and a shirt and am moving him toward the door.
“It can’t be me, Ten. There’s too much history. I’m not even part of Student Gov. Technically, we can’t even date.”
Not that the guys ever tried to get rid of the rules after Yang and I came on board. They wanted every reason to hit it and quit it. There are rules at Arcadia Crest. Weird fucking barbaric ones, but rules nonetheless.
He nods with understanding and anger. No fight. Never any fight. “Can we at least try to be friends? Like before? Cass would—”
“Out.” My single word brooks no argument, and he realizes his mistake immediately.
“My number is still the same, Colton. Try.” He heads out after giving me another once-over.
I sit on my bed long after he has left, wondering why and how he could be involved with what happened to Cass. It’s not like he could harm a fly. His heart, though not reflective of his dark outer appearance, is gold. Or it was.
He’s changed.
They all have.
When I’ve finally calmed down, several knocks sound at my door. Turning toward it, I groan, wishing we had peepholes. Hopefully, no freshman decides the egging contest is great for the outcast. Opening the door, I see my phone sitting on the ground. Hoping Ross didn’t get into it somehow, I search it for clues. Nothing.
What are you playing at, Dare?
Eight
“You are Colton Hudson?” a new student asks as I’m heading to Psych. She has bright eyes because she hasn’t experienced the toxicity of this place yet.
A few days later, I’d finally sucked it up and went back to classes. After the scolding from Moms, the visit from Ten, and the realization that the world doesn’t stop turning because I’m miserable, I ended up back on track.
The girl waits for my response. She’s being nice, and it’s different. She’s the first person who hasn’t called me a freak.
We couldn’t be more different. She has natural strawberry blonde hair and freckles smattered across her nose and high cheekbones while I’m dark and gory on my nice days. She’s charming in that small-town-debutante kinda way.
“The very one, and you?” I’m nothing if not polite. It’s ingrained in me. Even when I hung out with the boys of government, I didn’t treat anyone less than me. Why would I? There was never a rivalry for me with girls. While they may have had issues with me for being popular, I didn’t have the same qualms. Plus, this new girl seems sweet and with good intentions.
She smiles kindly at me, the distinct niceness of her personality floating over me. Unlike half of the student body, she doesn’t give me the I hate your guts vibes for being different. It’s a pleasant change.
“Melissa Tompkins,” she replies. Her voice has a little lilt to it. She’s not from the Valley, where most Arcadia kids are. You’re either part of the Valley—the rich and famous—or you came from other similar places around the world. She almost has a southern drawl. Maybe she’s from the south or far east?
“I’m not—”
“Oh, my bad! My father is Roderick Krane,” she interrupts as if it explains everything.
The name lights a switch, but I’m not sure why. I give her a pensive stare, not wanting to be rude, but unsure where this conversation is leading.
“I’m not sure who that is. I’m so sorry! I kind of live under a rock.” Shielding my face from the first moment of actual embarrassment I’ve had, a self-deprecating laugh leaves me. It’s a half-truth. It’s not in me to care about status and all the other bullshit they drill into our heads. They want us to know our place on the scale, as if it makes us worthy or not.
She giggles. “It’s okay. He owns half of Tennessee. He’s old money. But out here, the west coast, I can completely understand why you wouldn’t know. It’s kind of refreshing,” she says on a sigh. “Usually, people are terrified of me because of him.”
The name repeats itself in my mind over and over, and finally, it clicks. “Is your father that Movie Mogul? The one with Irish ties?” The mobster. It’s coming to me, the scandals, court cases, lies upon lies, and the family dragged apart by them.
“That’s the one,” she whispers. “It’s why I don’t go by Krane. Don’t need to start here on a bad note. Being the new girl is hard enough without that name tying me down.”
I smile at her, offering her my hand. “Nice to meet you, Melissa. Welcome to hell. Hope you like it warm,” I tease. I’m not even slightly lying now.
She stares at me, almost as if she’s trying to dissect my brain. Good luck, girl. Not even sure I could do it myself.
“You’re not going to prod?” She bites her lip, her face one of confusion.
Almost deciding something in her mind, she nods. “I’m not sure where I’m headed.” She hands me her schedule. “Please, if you don’t mind.”
This is the strangest yet most pleasant conversation I’ve had this year. It’s insane that a new girl is kinder to me than anyone I’ve known my entire life. It’s sad, really.
Perusing her schedule, I notice she’s headed the same place as me. “Oh, you have Psych like me. Not many new kids do. They generally don’t take this class.”
“Oh, psychology fascinates me,” she drawls, her voice taking on a passionate tone. “Knowing how the brain of a killer’s works and people with mental health issues intrigues me to no end.”
The enthusiasm in her tone reminds me of the me from before, with Art, back when my life wasn’t a living hell without my favorite person to experience it with me.
“Me too. Not sure what that says about me.”
“Maybe you’re a knowledge fiend like me?”
“Not really. My grades are decent but nothing to write home about. If not for my parents, I’d never get into Providence Hall.”
“That’s a nearly impossible school to get into,” she muses thoughtfully.
She’s not wrong. Providence Hall is an Ivy League University far outside Arcadia. It’s where both my moms went. The difference between them and me, they’re actually eclectic, wanting to be the best of the best. I just want to survive high school.
“It’s not as if your parents own half the country,” I say.
“Your mom is Tasha Hudson, the Multi-Billionaire Diamond Trader?”
“Unfortunately,” I deadpan.
She’s not just a Diamond Trader. She’s the Diamond Trader.
The warning alarm for class rings out, cutting our conversation short. She follows me as I rush to Mr. Bautista. He’ll lock us out if we’re late. By the time I’m rushing inside the room, there are only two seats available, both next to Lux and the new guy, Jordan. Though Jordan was kind, he’s also in Student Gov, which means he’s practically an asshole without the confirmation. Instead of forcing myself to suffer at the hands of Lux, I take the seat in front of Jordan and immediately regret my decision.
“So, you’re back to class. Does this mean we get to be friends?” Jordan’s voice sounds out from near my ear. He has to be leaning in really close for me to hear him so profoundly.
My response sticks to my tongue and absolutely obliterates itself when Lux jests nearby.
“You should keep your distance, Walker. Might catch an STD.”
“Are you fucking joking?” I hiss, turning toward him. “Get bent, Lux.”
“Are you offering, Vampire? Not sure if I’m into blood play and sacrifices.”
It’s a lie. We both know he’s down for blood play.
“Fuck off.” It comes off as a grumble, not a full attack.
My eyes catch onto the new girl while she studies the situation. She literally analyzes it with that big brain of hers. Her wheels turn as she absorbs the information and comes up with whatever conclusion she sees fitting. It’s present in her eyes.
“Class. Today’s the day!” Mr. Bautista announces like we’re at some goddamn award show. He’s excited for the subject, I’m sure. Any psyche is. It’s like a thing.
“Boring,” Lux complains.
Our teacher turns to him with a conspiratorial grin. “Sounds like Mr. DeLeon volunteers.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right,” Melissa comments, barely stifling a giggle.
That little comment has me liking her even more.
Lux practically drags his feet to the front of the room. It’s surprising, just for the simple fact that his loafers cost more than my entire outfit. He’s not one to scuff his precious things. Once upon a time, he made it a point to claim me as one of those things. How times change. Unlike me, Lennox isn’t scared to spend every penny his father offers, while I shop at Dark Princess as if it’s the best I can afford. It’s not. It’s just my preferred attire nowadays.
In his hand is a notebook, and the wicked gleam in his expression scares me. It’s one I know too well. A promise really, of destruction, pain, and callousness.
“I decided to do my paper on a serial killer who hasn’t been caught.”
Bautista nods, acting like he doesn’t know where this is going, but I do. From the way his eyes seek mine out and connect, it’s clear. He’s going to hurt me. Nerves claw their way to the surface, begging me to leave before this gets worse. Before he embarrasses me. Before he ruins what’s left of my sanity.
“In Arcadia Crest, no less,” he starts, waiting for the collective gasp.
Bautista doesn’t seem to know what to make of this, but he can’t know of every serial killer in this rural town. Not when he’s an outsider. But I do. There’s two. Since this tiny town was founded, there’s only been two.
“A person in this town pushed a young boy, an Arcadia Crest student. The fall ended his life as he bled out from his skull in messy heaps. There was so much blood that when the crime scene photos leaked, no one could erase the horror.”
“Is he talking about Cassidy?” a grade eleven boy whispers loudly.
“Didn’t he fall off a building?” one mutters.
“Yeah, that’s the freak show’s brother,” another adds.
“Some say the killer will strike again, and at homecoming, no less,” Lux explains solemnly like he’s telling a sad story instead of a true one. “Some say the killer is a teenage freak with green garbage hair.”
A whimper escapes my lips before I can swallow it down. A chorus of laughter mixed with hushed whispers spread throughout the room.
Bautista realizes where this is going a little too late. “Class, settle. Settle down!” His voice carries across the room, brooking no argument.
Lux’s eyes haven’t left mine, and the triumph there has me barely holding in tears. He accused me once again of killing my brother. What about Lux? He’s the one who had been there, not me. I’d been losing my virginity to Ten in Crystal while he and his fuckboys disappeared on us, doing whatever it was they were doing.
What do they know?
The class doesn’t stop their incessant whispers, but I can’t move or look at any of them. I’m stuck in the disgusting hazel thrall of Lux DeLeon, the worst kind of monster. He smirks evilly at me. It stays on me as he sees himself out. No matter how long he’s gone and the next students talk about their chosen serial killer, there are still whispers of me and my poor brother. They don’t know us. They don’t know our story. They don’t know how much pain comes with even the mere mention of him. He’s gone, and he’s never coming back, and the asshole elitist snobs at this school know what happened.
“Miss Hudson, you’re up,” my teacher announces as my body numbs to everything around me.
“She did it. She’s only in this class as a cover,” a grade eleven snubs at me.
“Her brother was such a good kid. This godless whore took him away,” another bites.
Tears sting my eyes. The emptiness in my steps as I make my way to the podium only increases the dread. It’s all I know. When things start to look up, everything crashes down. It’s how this school works.
My hands grip my paper tightly, so much so that it’s crumpled around the edges from the force. When I make it to the podium, everyone’s whispering under their breaths and pointing at me. Everyone but Melissa and Jordan. Using them as anchors, whether they know it or not, I stare at them as I deliver my research on Pedro Rodrigues Filho, a Brazilian man who killed over one hundred people. One of which was his own father. It’s said he ate a piece of his father’s heart to prove a point, which to me makes me feel like he was hurt and needed something to prove that his father wasn’t heartless. By the time I’m finished explaining tyranny and Pedro’s knack for killing bullies and murderers alike, people are staring at me as if I’m Pedro, and I’ll kill anyone who speaks ill of m
e.
My assignment goes from something that harbors passion to something despicable and fearful. It feels as if my body closes in on itself at the whispers going around. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does. Classmates stare at me in horror and fear. It’s something I’m used to. This time, though, after Lux has ruined my whole reputation, it somehow seems worse.
“Thank you, Colton. You can have a seat,” Bautista announces.
Even in his eyes, there’s doubt, an inkling of sorts, or maybe I’m reading into things. Either way, my stomach eats itself as the wait for class to be over seems to go on like a snail in a race.
When predicting this year would be easy, I never accounted for others openly working against me every step of the way. Lux will be an issue. Not that he’d been anything less than a prick since we met, but now his charming and addictive charisma only sets itself to turn the entire school against me.
Colt + Lux = screwed.
Nine
“I didn’t mean to come off so strongly.”
“You’re fine. I’m not a people person anyway,” I mutter, walking toward my next class.
After saying the words, I realize how inaccurate that used to be. Last year, when my brother and Yang were my best friends, life was good. Popularity, fame, you name it, I had it. It was fake, of course, but it was mine for the taking. Then Cass died. Then they all abandoned ship.
My only stresses surrounded four guys who make my life hell but also made my life something more. They weren’t afraid to reveal how much they liked me.
Ten was always first, pushing for us to mess around, but I didn’t want only him. Call it greed or the need to be single so when I went to college, boys wouldn’t break my heart or academic goals. Either way, our relationship was everything but the title.
Then, there was the rest. They were mine without ever saying it.
It was obvious in the way they kissed me, held me, always kept me close. We were a group of people who just loved being around each other.
Yang didn’t approve.
At first, I thought jealousy drove her, since I had the school’s four hottest guys for myself. After everything happened, I realize it was because she recognized their darkness.
Here Lives a Corpse: A Dark Bully Academy Romance (Here Lies Book 1) Page 6
