Revenge: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Longhorn Academy Dark Bully Romance Book 2)

by Amy Brown

  “I don’t want to hear any excuses either. Should you be stubborn, I’m sure Charity will be happy to send me a copy of her video.” I lower my voice. “And I’ll be happy to send it on to Dad.”

  “How dare you,” she hisses.

  I flinch at the anger in her voice, but stand my ground. “Hate me if you want. This is for the best.”

  She clenches her fists, and stomps her foot. “This is outrageous. You have no right to tell me what to do.”

  “Yes I do. You’re my mom and I want you alive. You’re going down the wrong path right now, and I have to save you from yourself.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” She takes a step forward, and slaps my face hard.

  Shock jolts through me and my ears ring. I’m shocked she’d touch me in anger. She’s never in her life raised her hand to me. I stare at her in disbelief, my cheek stinging. My throat is tight and I find it hard to speak.

  Shame shifts over her features, but then she lifts her chin obstinately. “You don’t tell me how to live my life.”

  She’s close enough now, I can smell booze on her breath. She’s drunk even as she argues with me about being able to control her drinking. What the hell happened to her? She was always the calm reasonable one in the family. I don’t recognize this angry, snarling woman in front of me.

  I need to get out of the house. I’m afraid this might escalate, and I’m in a bad place right now. I turn and walk out of the house, feeling sick to my stomach. My hands shake as I try calling Travis. I need to talk to someone. I’m shaken and hurt at how my mom is behaving. I can’t believe she slapped me. I still can’t believe it. But my throbbing cheek reminds me this is real.

  When Travis doesn’t answer, I still get in my truck and I tear down the driveway. I can’t stand being in the same house as my mom right now. How dare she slap me? How the fuck dare she cross that line? My mind races as I drive, speeding down the deserted highway.

  Maybe I should tell my dad about Mom’s accident anyway. She’s obviously out of control, and I’m not equipped to handle this. Nor should I have to. I’m not even eighteen yet, Dad should be here. He should handle his crazy wife. Not me.

  I realize I’m driving past Charity’s stepfather’s ranch and I pull over. There are still lights on in her house, and I wish I had the nerve to approach her. I’m drawn to her even in my darkest moments. I have the strongest urge to see her. I know that’s not possible. She’s furious at me for posting those naked photos of her, I’m sure. I don’t blame her. I deserve her hatred. I don’t hate her though. I try to, but I’m not capable of hating her.

  I still remember our talks. When she’d come to my house, Charity always listened to me so intently. Before everything went to shit, and she flipped the universe on me, we used to have good talks. Nobody else ever seems to care what I say, but Charity always listened. I miss that. If I’m honest, I miss Charity. It wasn’t just sex for me, no matter what lies I told everyone. That was my pride talking. I cared about her, but was too weak to admit it. I’m still too weak to admit it to anyone but myself.

  The thought of going home makes me sick. My eyes sting at the memory of Mom slapping me. She has no remorse because all she cares about is herself. I guess I’m just like her. All we Johnsons do is think about ourselves all the time. Our needs. My gut aches with stress because I have no idea who I can talk to right now. Dad is sound asleep on the other side of the world, and Travis is unavailable. I can’t talk to Jeremy about stuff like this. There’s really no one who I trust enough to share this shit with.

  I close my eyes, and sigh against the ache in my soul. I’ve never felt so alone as I do tonight. It’s a horrible feeling to know that no one in the world gives a shit about you.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charity

  After Patrick drops me off at home, I can’t sleep. My mind is way too wound up from my run-in with The Elites. I can tell it bothered Mason seeing me with Patrick. I know he’s possessive of me, even when he’s trying to destroy me. Why did he post those photos of me on Facebook? Was that just spite because I got the upper hand earlier with the video of his mom? Probably.

  I try reading one of the books Mrs. Dunbar assigned, hoping it might bore me to sleep. But it doesn’t work, and I’m still wide awake. Glancing at the clock, I see it’s almost one in the morning. I throw back the covers, and slip out of my sleep pants. I pull on some jeans and a hoodie over the sheer top. I often go for a walk at night, when I feel tense. I need fresh air and some exercise to work off this stress eating at me.

  I deactivate the elaborate alarm system, and let myself out of the house. The night air is still warm. It seems like it never really cools down in the evenings here in Texas. In Los Angeles, the temperature usually dropped at night. As I walk down the driveway, I stare up at the dark sky. There are so many stars out tonight, I smile and inhale the clean night air. I really do like it here in Blue Horn, despite all the issues at school.

  Somewhere in the hills I hear coyotes, and I shiver. I’m not worried about them coming after me or anything, but it’s obvious from their excited yipping, they’ve cornered something. Up ahead in the road, I see there’s a truck parked at the entrance to our ranch. I frown, wondering who it could be, and why in the world they’d be loitering near our property.

  Feeling uneasy, I start to turn around to head back home, but suddenly realize the truck looks just like Masons. Shock and a strange excitement ripple through me. Is it Mason? Why would he be here? Remembering how he snuck into Gregory’s party, it does seem possible he’d be here. He definitely marches to his own selfish drum.

  I stop walking, and peer intently at the truck. If it’s not Mason, I sure don’t want to approach. Frankly, even if it is Mason I shouldn’t want to go near. I highly doubt he’s here to apologize for uploading those naked photos. Mason never apologizes for anything because he doesn’t think he does anything wrong. So what possible reason would Mason have for being here?

  Is it Mason?

  I’m drawn to the truck like a moth to a flame. A chill goes through me, and I inch closer. There’s someone sitting in the cab, they have their arms on the steering wheel, and they’re resting their head on their arms. I frown, and study the figure. Whoever it is, they look depressed. When they sit up suddenly, and glance over toward me, I freeze.

  My breath catches in my throat when they open the door, and climb out. Part of me wants to run, and I start to turn back toward my house.

  “Charity?” It’s Mason’s voice.

  I stop, and face him. He doesn’t move toward me, he just stays in the doorway of his truck, watching me.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice sounds strained.

  “I don’t know,” he says softly.

  Frowning, I approach him slowly. His face is in shadow because the moon is behind him. I feel breathless as I inch closer to him. I’m glad he doesn’t move toward me. I’d probably run. It’s definitely creepy to find him here, watching my house.

  “This isn’t normal behavior.” My voice is hushed.

  “I just needed to talk to someone.”

  I scowl, not sure how to respond. “Talk to The Elites.”

  He swallows so loud, I hear it. “I… I can’t.” He still hasn’t moved from the doorway of his truck, as if he knows he shouldn’t be here.

  I’m about two feet from him now. His eyes glitter, but his features are still mostly in shadow. “You’re so weird,” I whisper.

  He slumps against his truck, but doesn’t respond.

  “Is… is something wrong?” I find myself asking. Mason is odd on a good day, but something is weirder than usual about him. I’m now next to him, and he makes no move to touch me. He turns his head to meet my gaze, and I can finally see his face. There’s a large red handprint on his cheek, and he looks like he’s on the verge of tears. “What happened?”

  He shakes his head, and presses his lips tight.

  “Talk to me,” I say quietly. “You said you neede
d to talk.”

  He doesn’t though. He simply watches me, his throat moving as if he wants to talk, but can’t.

  He’s one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever known in my life, but he also gets to me like nobody ever has. He’s obviously hurting, and for whatever reason, I need to comfort him. I move to him, and I wind my arms around his narrow waist. I half expect him to shove me away, but he doesn’t. He hugs me back, and rests his chin on the top of my head. His heart pounds beneath my ear, and I tighten my grip.

  “Mason,” I whisper. “Please talk to me.” I can feel his pain radiating through me, and my heart aches.

  “My mom.” His voice is raw and full of pain.

  For one horrible moment, I’m afraid she’s dead. “Oh, God.” I pull back, and study his face. “What happened?”

  He swallows. “She’s out of control. I can’t get through to her.”

  Relief she’s still among the living goes through me, and I sigh. “You scared me.”

  He exhales a shaky breath. “She won’t get help.”

  “What happened to your cheek?”

  “She… she slapped me.”

  “Why?” I’m horrified.

  He grimaces. “She didn’t like what I said.”

  “That’s not okay,” I hiss. “How dare she touch you.”

  He looks like he feels nauseous. “I don’t know what to do about her. Dad is all the way in China, and she’s drinking constantly, and just…” He shakes his head. “Not herself.”

  “You shouldn’t have to handle any of this.” I scowl. “Maybe I should have called the cops on her. She couldn’t hide her behavior then.”

  His jaw clenches. “God, Dad would fucking freak out.”

  “Well, she’s not allowed to drive around drunk, or assault her kid. That’s not cool.” I lay my head against his chest, holding him tight again. Why am I comforting the guy who uploaded naked photos of me? I think I’m weirder than Mason.

  “I just needed to tell someone what’s happening.”

  “Of course.” I look at him again.

  “I don’t know what to do, Charity. What should I do?” His eyes are so full of pain, it hurts looking at him.

  I touch his cheek. “It’ll be okay.”

  “I don’t know.” He blinks at me. “I’m not so sure.”

  “It will blow over.”

  “I hope so.” He sounds like a scared kid.

  I stand on tiptoe, and press my lips to his. He opens his mouth to my kiss, a little groan leaving him. It’s just supposed to be a comforting kiss, but the feel of his mouth makes me hungry for more. I press closer, a warm flush moving through me as his hands slip down to cup my ass.

  “God, you taste good,” he rasps.

  “You too,” I whisper.

  When he touches me, there never seems to be any chance of pulling away. I always need to take it all the way. I want to take it all the way now. It’s been too long since he was inside me. I know we’re not supposed to be with each other. I’m supposed to hate him, but I don’t. I want him. I want sex with him because I need it. Not because I’m weak, but because I hunger for him. Sometimes you just need to fuck, and right now, that’s where my head is at.

  “Do you have a condom?” I ask softly.

  He stiffens, obvious surprise on his face. “What?”

  “You heard me.” I take his mouth again, enjoying his obvious astonishment at how aggressive I’m being. It feels good to be in control. I definitely enjoy that Mason lets me lead sometimes.

  He groans into my mouth, and he presses me against his truck. He lifts his head, looking almost startled. “Fuck, Charity.”

  “Yeah,” I moan. “That’s what I’m saying; fuck Charity.”

  He gives a weak laugh. “I didn’t come here for this.”

  “I don’t really care why you came here at the moment.” I push him toward the back of his truck. “Get in the back.”

  “Are you serious?” He sounds unsure, but his crotch is bulged. It’s obvious he’s interested. Even as he questions me, he hops gracefully into the back of the truck in one move.

  God, he’s so fucking sexy. My legs are weak as I go to the tailgate, and climb into the back of the truck, less gracefully. He sits down, and I begin to undo my jeans. “Why do you still have your pants on?”

  He grimaces. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I helped you feel better, now help me.” I laugh. I’m a little embarrassed at my behavior, but a girl has needs, and he’s the only guy I want. Yes, he’s a jerk, but he has a beautiful dick, and he fucks like a bull. Why can’t I use him like he uses girls?

  He shakes his head, but his bewilderment is slowly being replaced by lust. He sheds his jeans quickly, and he pulls a condom out of his wallet. I take off my hoodie, but leave my silky sleep top on. Once that’s all I’m wearing, I straddle him. He already has the condom on, and that’s fine by me. I don’t expect this to take long. Ever since the gazebo, I’ve been dreaming about this.

  “We’re not supposed to do this stuff with each other.” He grins up at me.

  My heart squeezes because his smile takes my breath away. It’s nice to see him happier. It hurt seeing him scared and confused before. I don’t want to see him in pain, whether he deserves it or not. Maybe I need to harden myself, but for now, I’ll settle for taking what I need from him.

  “I’m using you.” I say, but my smirk falters when he strokes his fingertip over my clit. I shudder, and moan.

  “Yeah. That’s right. Moan for me.” His eyes glitter up at me.

  I’m so wet, it’s a bit disconcerting. Just the idea of sex with Mason gets me dripping. He tugs me forward, and his fingers slide inside me. I cry out, and arch my back. “Oh, fuck.” I roll my hips, needing that delicious friction.

  “You always surprise me,” he says.

  I lean down on his chest, and kiss him, our tongues sliding together. God he tastes so beautifully familiar. I’m glad he came to me tonight. I like knowing he needed me to comfort him. I want to mean something to him, like he does to me. Neither of us like the fact we’re strangely obsessed with each other, but it is what it is.

  His cock presses my pussy, and I suck in an excited breath, waiting for that searing invasion I crave. His hands slide under my chemise, and he pinches my nipples. I groan, my insides throbbing as he kneads my breasts with his rough hands. A fire builds between my quivering thighs.

  The anticipation is almost too much, and when he finally pushes inside me, we both groan. He takes my mouth roughly as he starts to thrust deep and slow. My hair almost stands on end as every nerve in my body begins to buzz.

  “Oh, fuck,” I pant, holding his gaze as he starts pounding into me.

  “Is this what you wanted, baby?”

  My lips part, and words fail me as my orgasm begins to throb deep inside me. I whimper, trembling and weak as pleasure assaults me. Oh, God, I’m right on the edge, trembling on the cliff of my climax.

  He watches me, eyes sharp like an eagle. “Feel me inside you?”

  I nod, moving to his rhythm, and gasping when he holds my hips and thrusts upward hard, over and over. My breasts bounce beneath the sheer material of my top, and I feel like I might pass out because it feels so good.

  “I’m gonna come,” he growls a warning. He grits his teeth, and I feel him jerk inside me. He arches his back, pumping in and out of my pussy, digging his fingers into my hips.

  The swell of his cock sends me crashing over the edge, and I come hard. Trembling, I shudder as he begins to finish inside me. Wave after wave of delicious contractions ripple inside my pussy, and I whimper with relief. God, I’ve missed this. It’s hard to describe how perfect I feel as my body calms after my climax. Every muscle is warm and loose, and I kiss his throat.

  The last few times we fooled around, we were both so cold afterward. This time, we’re different. We’re still enemies, and I don’t kid myself that he isn’t still out to destroy me. But I don’t have any animosity in me at the m
oment. I just want to enjoy how satiated I feel.

  I lift my head and we kiss softly, and he smiles at me. “I needed that,” he says softly.

  “Me too.” I don’t want to pull off of his cock. It feels so nice and warm, filling up all my hollow spots.

  He rubs his hands over my body, sighing. “I wish things were different.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” I ask, smirking. I’m being flippant, but I too wish things were different.

  He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for talking to me.”

  “What are enemies for?” I pull off of him. As much as I enjoyed this, it’s time to get back to the house. I would hate for anyone to notice I’m missing. That could be very awkward.

  “Maybe I’ll spend the night in a hotel.” He stands to pull up his jeans.

  “I’m sure your mom feels horrible about her behavior.”

  He looks unconvinced. “She’s deep in denial.”

  “You should talk to your dad when you can.”

  He nods. “I will. Mom will be furious, but this is too much for me to handle alone.”

  “She’s obviously stressed. Drinking is her coping mechanism.”

  “She wanted to work again, but apparently that’s stressing her out too.” He frowns. “She’s confusing.”

  “Sometimes the dream is more fun than the reality.”

  He glances at me. “Meaning what?”

  “The idea of working again was fun, and when she was unhappy, she could blame your dad. But now, she’s the only person standing in her own way.”

  He nods. “Yeah.”

  “Don’t go to a hotel. Go home. Sleep on it. My guess is she’ll apologize for slapping you. She’s a good person. That was the booze.”

  His mouth turns down. “I hope so.”

  “I’m sorry she let you down.”

  “People do that, right?” His gaze is enigmatic.

  “Usually.”

  He moves toward me, and he hugs me tight. It might be the first time I’m positive he’s doing that because he wants to, and not because he’s playing me. He presses his face into my hair. “Never thought I’d say this, but I’ll miss you, Charity.”