“Enough. That’s enough.” I hang up to the sound of him laughing down the line. The fucker knew how to get me there. If I were sober, I might care about being played but right now all I care about is making sure her body isn’t rubbing up against Shane’s.
Dragging myself from the ground, I collect up my shit and start making my way along the beach.
Shane’s house parties are pretty legendary, although not by his own doing. He’s got older twin brothers who went off to college two years ago who are the ultimate party animals and two parents who always seem to be in another state. Oh and wealthier than I can only dream of. Their house is huge and sits right on the beach. His dad was one of the biggest NFL stars this country has seen, and the oldest Dunn boys lived for the celebrity status they were gifted with. They’ve both gone off to an Ivy League university with full sports scholarships, not that they needed it. Rumor had it that all the top college teams were begging for them, they wanted a slice of the fame too, understandably. It pissed me off more than I’d ever admit that they get a free ride just because of their dad while I’m here with nothing and with no chance at a college education. Yeah, so everyone knows my mother’s name, but her reputation isn’t going to get me fucking anywhere in this world.
Walking up the street full of massive, pretentious houses, my stomach knots with how my life could have been. Another shot from the bottle I’m carrying soon helps to drown the thoughts. Cars fill the street outside the Dunn house and the closer I get, the louder the music is. The neighbors must fucking hate these parties.
As I round the house there are kids everywhere, many I recognize from school, some that must be college kids, that’s only confirmed when I spot the Dunn twins playing beer pong at the other side of the garden with girls hanging off them. Luca nods at me when he spots me but soon gets distracted by the girl who places her hand on his cheek and turns him to kiss her.
Rolling my eyes at them, I head inside to try to find Ethan. When I do, he’s got some brunette I’ve never seen before pressed up against the kitchen counter with his tongue down her throat.
“Hey,” I call out but he’s clearly way too distracted by the girl. Lifting my hand, I slap him across the back of the head. “Oi, Savage.”
Pulling away from the chick, he turns to look at me at the same time he rubs the spot on his head I just hit. “Hey, asshole. Good to see you.”
“Fuck off. It’s not like you gave me much choice. Where is she?”
“No idea. I hope you’re not too late, she was getting pretty wasted.”
Fire burns through my veins. If Shane or any other motherfucker have put their hands on her while she’s drunk, I’ll fucking kill them.
I go to say something back, but when I turn to Ethan, I see that he’s distracted again. “Get a fucking room.”
He flips me off over his shoulder before pressing even harder into the girl.
Swiping a beer from the side, I set about trying to find my Brit.
My Brit.
Fucking hell, that vodka’s affecting me more than I thought. Why do I keep claiming her as mine?
A few of the guys clap me on the back in greeting as I pass, others try to drag me into conversation about tonight’s game, but I’m not interested, not until I find her.
I spot Camila with her pussy of a boyfriend first. Wrapping my hand around her forearm, I pull her off his lips, much to her displeasure. “Where is she?”
“What the fuck?” She looks between me and where I’m still touching her with disgust filling her eyes. There’s no love lost between the two of us since all the shit went down with her and Mason a few years ago. I know where my loyalties lie and so does she, it seems.
“Where. Is. She?”
“Fuck you, Jake. You must be fucking crazy if you think I’ll feed her to you. You’ve already done enough damage.” Noah, her fucking puppy dog boyfriend, wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her back against him, clearly not man enough to step out in front of her to deal with me himself.
“Just tell me so I don’t have to waste time searching this place,” I ask, already fed up with this conversation.
“Not a fucking chance.” Luckily for me as she says this, her eyes flick over my shoulder. Following her stare, I find exactly what I wanted, or didn’t, seeing as Shane’s hands are currently on her body. “Shit.”
Turning back to Camila, she swallows nervously.
“You fucking hurt her and—”
“And what? What the fuck are you going to do?”
She visibly pales, yet her boyfriend still does fuck all. “I haven’t got time for this shit.”
By the time I turn around, Brit and Shane have gone. “Fuck.”
Glancing around, I find a door to the kitchen but there are so many bodies in the way that I doubt they made it through that quickly or ahead of me is a set of stairs. My heart pounds as images I don’t need fill my head.
30
Jake
Wasting no time, I run up, my slightly wobbly legs take the stairs two at a time with ease until my feet hit the first-floor landing. Working my way down the long hallway, I throw open door after door revealing a mixture of empty and occupied rooms with couples in varying states of dress. I don’t bother saying anything until I get to the last room on this floor and swing the door open.
“Get your fucking hands off her.”
Shane stills, his hands holding Brit around the waist as if he’s about to run them up her stomach toward her... Shit.
My fists clench at my sides as I wait for her to say something about my interruption, but at no point does she lift her head from Shane’s shoulder.
Narrowing my eyes at his panicked expression, I take a step forward, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“N-nothing. She’s wasted, I was just going to lie her down to sleep it off.”
“For your sake, I really fucking hope that’s true.” My voice is low and menacing. The muscles in his neck ripple as he swallows down his nervousness.
It’s not until a soft groan comes from the limp body in his arms that I remember what the fuck I’m doing right now.
Slipping my arm between the two of them, I make quick work of pulling her from him.
“What the hell. Just put her on my bed. She needs to sleep.”
“I’m not letting her stay within a mile of you.”
Shane’s face burns red with anger, a vein pulsing in his forehead. “That’s not your decision to make. She fucking hates you.”
“She’s gonna fucking hate you if I leave her here for you to do whatever it was you were just about to do.”
“I wasn’t…” His hands fly up in exasperation. “I was just getting her away from the party. I wouldn’t hurt her.”
“Don’t believe you,” I bark, swinging her body up into my arms. She immediately wraps hers tightly around my shoulders and snuggles her face into my neck. My chest swells but I know it’s not the time to focus on that. I need to get her out of here.
“You can’t just walk out with her. How do I know you’re not going to hurt her?”
“Because I wouldn’t hurt a fucking hair on her head.”
“Says the guy who sent a photo around the school making her out to be a whore.”
“Have you just about finished sticking your nose into my business?”
“Nowhere fucking near, especially when you’ve got the girl I want in your arms.”
“She’s not yours, Dunn. Never was and never will be.”
“And you really think she’s yours?” he calls, but he’s too late, I’m already walking away with my girl in my arms.
“Yeah, yeah I do,” I whisper to no one.
Heads turn the second my feet hit the ground, a few chins drop and eyes widen as they take in the two of us.
“He’s got to be fucking kidding me,” I hear Camila fume, but I don’t hang around long enough to hear what else she’s got to say.
The sea
of people part as I head toward the kitchen and thankfully at the end of it I find Mason nursing a glass of water.
“I need a lift.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Thorn?”
“Getting her away from his wandering hands.” His brows pinch but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he places his glass down and leads the way out of Shane’s house.
“Wait, wait,” Camila calls after fighting her way through the crowds who obviously didn’t move for her. “What the hell’s going on? What’s wrong with her?”
“Drunk? Drugged? Fuck knows. All I do know is that I found her in his bedroom with his hands on her. Not. Fucking. Happening.”
Camila blanches, I assume at my overprotectiveness, but really I don’t give a fuck.
“Shit, is she okay?”
“She will be.”
Camila looks between the three of us, confusion written all over her face. I can see that she wants to take care of her friend, but she also understands that she’s not got a chance in hell right now.
“Can I trust you with her?” I understand her concern, hell if the roles were reversed, I’d do anything I could to stop this from happening right now but Camila’s not me, and I’m not one to back down.
“You can. I won’t hurt her.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” she whispers.
“I won’t touch her, you have my word.”
“It wasn’t her body I was worried about.”
My mouth opens to respond but no words pass my lips.
“Are we fucking going or not. I didn’t intend on spending my night out here with her.” Mason’s eyes flit to Camila and as always, I can see his conflicted feelings for her. He wants to hate her, I understand that more than most, but he can’t really make himself do it.
“Yeah, open the back door.”
It takes a bit of maneuvering but eventually I manage to get myself and Brit into the back seat of Mason’s car. I lay her across with her head in my lap.
Staring down at her sleeping face, I run my fingers through her soft hair, taking in the array of shades of blonde beneath my fingers.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Mason says from the front seat.
“Not a fucking clue, bro. The only thing I know for certain is that I couldn’t leave her there. The way he was touching her.” My muscles lock up as I remember it.
“Are you sure you weren’t just seeing what you wanted to see? Shane’s not like that. He wouldn’t touch a fly.”
“Even if I was, I’m still not happy about her being in his room.”
“Fuck me, Jake. You’ve really got it bad, huh?”
“What?”
All he does is laugh, telling me he knows just as much as I do how I feel for this girl. He knew before I did, hence why he was calling me out on my bullshit.
“You know she has every right to never forgive you for what you’ve done, right?”
“Yep, I’m aware.”
Silence fills the car, the only sounds that can be heard is that of our breathing as Mason navigates away from the coast and into the town.
“Where the hell are you going?” I bark when he takes a wrong turn.
“Taking her home.”
“No fucking way. We’re going to my place.”
“You expect me to leave her with you after everything?”
“Uh, yeah. You’ve just pointed out how I feel about her. I’m not going to touch her.” His eyes hold mine in the mirror but after a few seconds, he’s forced to look back to the road. “We can’t take her home, her gran will be asleep, and she’ll want to know what’s wrong with her.”
Blowing out a long breath, Mason white knuckles the steering wheel. “I’m not fucking happy about this.”
“I don’t need you to be. I just need you to take us to my place, and to trust me.”
“Fine. But if you fuck this up, I’ll knock your fucking teeth out.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Mason laughs but the tension in his shoulders remains as he turns the car around and heads toward my trailer. In reality, it’s the last place I want to take Brit, she’s better than my damp fucking trailer but I don’t have much else to offer her.
He brings the car to a stop in front of my aunt and uncle’s house but doesn’t kill the engine as he gets out and helps me pull a passed out Brit from the backseat.
“You okay from here?” Hesitation about allowing this to happen fills his voice. Part of me hates that he’s questioning my motives but a bigger part of me is happy that he cares about her and feels the need to be concerned.
“Yeah, we’re good.”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“Thanks for the lift, man. I really appreciate it after everything.”
With a quick nod of his head, he gets back in the car and speeds off. I’m under no illusion that things between us are not going to go back to how they were before the girl in my arms appeared and threw my life into turmoil, but at least we’ve made progress.
I take each step toward my trailer carefully, although most of the effects of the vodka vanished the moment I saw her in his arms, I know I’m not sober by any means.
By the time I’ve dug my key out of my pocket and got her inside, my chest heaves with exertion. Maybe I should have asked Mason for help, I wonder as my breath rushes past my lips.
Walking straight through to my bedroom, I gently lower her down. My breath catches at the sight of her blonde hair fanning my dark pillow and her long, slender body lying across my bed. No girl’s been in my bed before, fuck, other than Poppy, no girl’s been inside my trailer. I wouldn’t want any of the girls at school seeing this shithole. Somehow I already know that Brit’s not going to judge. Hell, she’s probably going to be too hungover, or angry, to even notice.
Dropping to my knees, I carefully slip her sneakers from her feet and place them on the floor. My eyes run up the smooth, muscular lines of her legs and my balls ache to feel how soft her skin is. But I won’t. I won’t touch without her permission.
Grabbing a clean pair of boxers, I go to leave the room for a shower. I didn’t hang around long enough to have one after I got kicked out of the game and I stink. I’m actually surprised the stench didn’t wake her from her drunken slumber.
I have the quickest shower possible, totally ignoring my cock that’s happily bobbing between my legs hoping that she’ll wake up and pay it some attention, I’m too impatient to be with her. Knowing just how much I need to be laying beside her in my bed freaks me the hell out, but I try not to dwell on it. I tell myself that I’m just concerned she’ll wake up and not know where she is or that she’ll be sick and choke on her own puke. The thought of that happening in my bed makes me shudder, but I’d deal with it for her if I had to.
31
Amalie
My head’s spinning before I even open my eyes. It takes me a few seconds to realise that the last thing I remember from the party was dancing with Shane and feeling my eyes starting to get heavy.
Bolting upright, I drag my eyes open and look at my unfamiliar surroundings.
Where the fuck am I?
It’s certainly not Shane’s mammoth house. I didn’t have him down for a rich kid, or a kid who had a famous football-playing father, just goes to prove that you can’t judge a book by its cover.
I’m still trying to piece together what’s happened when some movement in the bed beside me startles me.
“How are you feeling?” The rough, sleepy yet familiar voice breaks through my panic. Looking down, my eyes almost pop out of my head.
Why the utter fuck am I in his bed?
“No, no, no, no,” I chant as I shove the covers off me and scramble from the bed. “This can’t be happening.”
In my haste to get away, my foot gets tangled in his sheets and I fly headfirst toward the floor. Clearly, he’s got a much clearer head, because just before my nose makes contact with his dingy carpet, two large hands grab on to my waist and I’m p
ulled back up.
“Get the hell off me,” I snap, starting to fight to get away once again. When I’m released, he’s not only saved me but deposited me into his lap.
When I glance to my left, inches upon inches of his tanned skin greets me and I feel a little flutter of something between my legs.
No, no, this is not happening.
“Why the hell am I in your bed?”
“You know,” he says, placing his fingers against my cheek and forcing me to look up into his sparkling blue eyes. “You should probably be thanking me, not shouting at me?”
His fingers slip around the back of my neck, allowing his thumb to caress the edge of my jaw.
“O-oh yeah?” I hate that his touch makes my ability to think and speak falter. “And why’s that?”
“I was your knight in shining armor, baby.” Butterflies erupt in my stomach, but they almost make the sick feeling I’ve been trying to ignore more apparent. It must be written on my face because his eyes soften a little before he begs, “Please don’t puke on me.”
“It would be no more than you deserve.” When I go to get off him, he allows me. I’m not sure if it’s because he didn’t really want me there in the first place or if he’s afraid I am about to cover him in last night’s dinner. I stumble back to the wall and allow it to help hold me up as my head spins and my stomach rolls.
“Fair enough,” he mutters, his calm demeanor making my brows draw together in confusion.
“I’m sorry, but am I dreaming or am I really in your trailer with you being nice to me?”
“Don’t worry, I’m about as shocked as you are.”
“You say that, but you’re not the one who woke up here with no memory of the journey.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“Really? Why? What did you do?”
“Me?” he asks, sitting up against the headboard and allowing the covers to pool low across his waist.
Eyes up, Amalie. Eyes up.
“Yeah, you. Did you manage to get me into some compromising positions so you’ve got some new images to spread around? I might be clothed right now, but I wouldn’t put it past you to—”
THORN: A High School Bully Romance (Rosewood Book 1) Page 16
