by Ivy Fox
Bad Influence
by
Ivy Fox
Copyright
Her Secret – Bad Influence Series Copyright © 2018 Ivy Fox
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of all word marks, products, brands, TV shows, movies, music, bands and celebrities mentioned in this work of fiction.
Cover Image & Edit: Courtesy of X-Factory Designs
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ISBN-10: 1986897826
ISBN-13: 978-1986897822
Dedication
For all the romantics who believe that love comes in all shapes and sizes.
This one’s for you.
Prologue
Tyler
“Boys, I need to have a quick word with all of you. Can you come into the kitchen please?” I hear Mom yelling from inside the house. I’d really rather just stay out here nursing my hangover from last night’s party, but I guess a family meeting is in order. Mason sits on his own lawn chair chaffed with this sudden gathering. He should be, as last night he drank more than I did. I feel like shit, but Mason looks like it.
“You should lay off the hard stuff next time, bro. Just because you can legally drink now, doesn’t mean you have to down every bottle in the place,” I tease my big brother. His only reply is flipping me the bird and lying back on the chair, with one arm covering his eyes from the unforgiving sun.
“Get your lazy asses up. Mom’s calling us,” Carter says, getting out of the pool while grabbing a towel for him, and another for his twin. Chaz silently runs over to a stretched-out, grumpy Mason, shaking his blond shaggy wet hair like a dog, onto our eldest brother’s face.
“The fuck?!” Mason yells, angry that our kid brother won’t give him the moment of peace his head is begging for. Chaz just laughs like the jokester he is and continues to spray water all over Mason.
“Get up, old timer!” He belts but immediately starts to run away when Mason goes after him. Both Carter and I laugh like fucking hyenas, watching my big ass brother chasing the ever agile and slippery little fucker that Chaz is.
From the corner of my eye, I see Drew opening the sliding door from our living room, taking in the show in our backyard. He’s trying real hard to keep his permanent scowl in place, but I see a little bit of his upper lip wanting to lift, challenging my brooding brother into a smile. He wasn’t always a sourpuss, but I wasn’t always an asshole either. I guess we all have the same person to thank for the changes in our personality. My eyes wander up to the house next to ours, catching the sway of the delicate curtains. The howls and wails coming from our backyard must have gotten some attention from the figure doing a piss poor job at hiding behind those baby blue curtains. Always doing the best to hide from us but, to our chagrin, never fully succeeding in her efforts.
“Boys!” Mom yells out loud enough to grab our attention. Without saying a word, Drew turns his back to us and walks into the house, but not before I catch his discrete glance to those same curtains. Carter follows, still dripping wet from his swim, while Mason walks Chaz to the screen door in a headlock, both grinning like fools. I would rather stay out here in our backyard, absorbing the sun’s warmth on my skin and letting the scorn at my side get an eye full, but I’m sure my mother would come out here and pull me by the ear like a toddler. I might be twenty in the eyes of the law, but to my mom, I’m still one of her babies. Never too old to get a smack on the head for my usual insubordination. Not something I want most people to witness, let alone her.
When I get into the kitchen, there is a spread of food on the counter. Ranging from pancakes, sausages, bacon, toast, and hash browns. My stomach grumbles in appreciation for my mom’s homemade cooking. Anna Perry is a wizard in the kitchen, a talent which is only reserved for the men of this house. A talent Chaz is eager to pursue and will kick ass in, once he starts culinary school next semester. My brothers are all stacking their plates up to the heavens, save for Mason who looks nauseous just by the close proximity of the delicious food. Yep, he definitely went overboard last night, and now he’s paying the price for it. Guess I’m on my own today if I want to catch some waves. Mason is in no shape to walk, let alone surf.
“Dad not eating?” Carter asks, pouring an unhealthy amount of syrup on his pancakes.
It’s a wonder how he and Chaz have the same ripped body that I do. Surfing is not a sucker sport, so Mason and I work our asses off to be fit and take on whatever the ocean has in mind for us. Aside from swimming, Chaz and Carter are more into racing, like madmen on their bikes. Hardly a sport that requires exercise. Still, the Perry genes work miracles, and the twins are a perfect example. Drew’s idea of exercise is more relatable to me. He gets his six-pack from fucking. If his head isn’t inside a book, then it’s probably between some girl’s thighs. To each his own. Not a bad way to stay in shape, if you ask me.
“I already saved him a plate. He’s in the study, trying to finish some work he brought from the office last night. Your father is working hard to finish all his pending cases, so he doesn’t have to think about them on our trip,” Mom beams excitedly.
“So you’re all set? Do you need anything from us, like take you to the airport or something?” Mason asks in earnest.
“No, baby. We’re sharing a cab with the Wilsons.” She smiles. “But I do need a favor from all of you,” she continues unaware that the name Wilson has already dampened the mood in the kitchen.
“What do you need, Mom?” Drew asks, his back stiff as if he’s sensing a storm about to approach. I want to do the girl thing of rolling my eyes at his increasing mistrusting nature for these past few years, but I don’t because my own gut is telling me my mother’s next words won’t be something I want to hear.
“I talked it over with Sarah, and we decided that Freya should stay here while we’re on vacation. We’ll both worry knowing she’s in the house all alone for a month, without someone looking out for her.”
“Freya is a big girl. She can take care of herself,” Carter replies, and I don’t miss the hurt in his voice, as much as he’s trying to camouflage it with annoyance for my brothers’ sake.
“Of course she is, but she’s still a shy young girl. And with this whole disinterest of hers in going to college it’s making Sarah even more concerned. And let’s not forget about the recent robberies plaguing our little town. Just this morning, I heard the Henderson’s place was robbed night before last. No, Freya staying on her own is out of the question. She’ll stay here with you boys, and we’ll all breath much easier knowing she’s safe.
Safe is not the word I would use. If Freya moves into our house for a month, then she’ll face a different kind of danger than the one my mom’s concerned about.
“Well, Tyler and I live in the city, so it’s no skin off our back if she’s staying here or not,” Mason replies, shrugging and pouring himself another cup of coffee.
Lies. Lies. Lies.
How Mason is capable of pretending our next-door neighbor
moving in is of no consequence, is a remarkable feat. One that all of us have mastered over the years, apparently. Pretending how unaffected we are by her existence, is ingrained in our very skin.
“No worries Mom, I’m sure the boys will welcome Freya to this house the way she deserves. Won’t you?” I glare at the twins and Drew. Chaz is already broadcasting his famous mischievous smile, while Carter looks none too eager for our guest to arrive. Drew just looks unimpressed, which is bullshit since I know damn well he’s just as unnerved and anxious as the rest of us.
“Mason and I will be sure to drop by over the weekends to check up on her too. Won’t we, Mase?” My malicious grin is unwavering with the scowl Mason holds.
“Thank you, boys. I know she’ll be in good hands with all of you,” Mom states proudly.
I wish her pride was warranted, but it’s far from it. Freya will not be in good hands at all. Once she walks into this house, she’ll be stepping into the lion’s den with no protection of any kind. My brothers and I will relish in her discomfort. The asshole in me lights up, anticipating a shaken, trembling Freya in our sights. This might be the only opportunity we have at some fucking justice to her heartless dismissal of us five. She used to be our world until she cast us aside like we were nothing to her. A little payback is fitting. This might be the heavens smiling down on us and offering our revenge on a silver platter.
It’s the voice of the crushed boy that I once was. I wished I could shut it, but as hard as I try to ignore it, the voice continues to whisper in my ear. This might also be the last time my brothers and I can finally get some closure, and move on from the princess hiding behind pale blue curtains.
Pain will be felt on both sides of the battlefield. We just have to make sure ours bleeds less than hers.
Chapter 1
Freya
“Freya? Did you hear me?” my mother asks, looking at me with a stern expression on her face while closing the refrigerator door.
“I heard you the first time, Mom. I just don’t think it will be necessary. I mean, I’m eighteen, you know. Legally a grown adult,” I answer while biting my inner cheek nervously.
“I’m perfectly aware of that, Freya. Although, most eighteen-year-olds I know aren’t passing their time lying on the living room couch, day in and day out, watching the world go by. They are preparing themselves for college and the real world, instead of spending the summer in their pajamas.”
“Jesus, Mom, how did you change the topic of telling me that I’ll have to spend the summer at the Perry’s, to challenging my life choices? We agreed I was going to take a gap year, didn’t we? I don’t want to go off to college yet, without having lived a little more,” I moan out.
It’s the same argument we’ve had ever since I graduated, and it will probably continue to be so until I’ve finally had enough to move out. I’m just not ready to take that step yet. For reasons I never want anyone to figure out, much less my mother.
“Well, you’re not going to do much living binge-watching Netflix all day, that’s for sure,” she whispers, loud enough for me to hear. I roll my eyes behind her because my mom has no clue at what I’m going through, and it would be pointless having this discussion. I have more pressing concerns than getting derailed by her lack of satisfaction with how I spend my summer days.
“Is it really necessary for me to live next door while you and Dad go on your cruise? I mean, I’m perfectly able to take care of myself,” I plead in earnest. What my mother has concocted for me will do more harm than good. I know she means well, but the idea of me having to spend any time next door, much less a month, will be the nail that will do me in.
“Freya, we talked about this. There have been a series of break-ins in the area these last few months, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here all on your own. Neither does your father. Anyway, living at the Perry’s won’t be so bad for a few weeks. You used to almost live there when you were younger, remember? I don’t see the difference it would make now, staying there for the rest of the summer.”
The difference that my mother refuses to acknowledge is that there is a reason I no longer frequent the household next door — the Perry boys live there. I understand why my mother would assume it isn’t a big deal, but living next door will be excruciating, in every sense of the word, to my fragile young heart.
Sure, I loved going there when I was younger. I enjoyed spending time with all of the five brothers, either swimming in their pool, playing X-Box, or even just goofing about and watching TV. But as we started to grow, so did my feeling towards them, and it confused the hell out of me.
So, distance and a random hello felt a whole lot safer, than sleepovers with the five guys, all of which I had a crush on. Yep, can’t tell my mom that, now can I? Can’t tell anyone, for that matter, or they’ll lock me away for extreme-slut disorder. Hey, I’m sure there is a more politically correct term or phrase for it, but wanting to screw five brothers at the same time kind of falls in the slut category. Girls my age who have done or thought a lot less, have been called far worse.
If it was a guy who was doing five sisters at once, he would be the man. A girl doing it? A whole other ball game. Sucks balls, but it’s still the world we live in. I’m sure if my mother even had one small inkling of how I felt, she would lock me in my room and never let me close to the Perry brothers again. Break-ins be damned.
Want to know the funny thing though? Even with all the distance I created in our teen years, those boys are still the only ones that make me feel this way. In other words, this means I’m an eighteen-year-old virgin because I can’t stomach any other man touching me if his last name isn’t Perry. Pathetic, huh? Welcome to my world. And my misery.
“As I was saying, Carl and Anna already have the guest room set up for you for tomorrow. Here is the spare key to their house. I’ll expect you to take what you need with you so you won’t have to come to the house while we’re gone. I’m even changing the passwords to the security system, so you don’t get any funny ideas,” my mom states smugly.
“Fine,” I grunt in defeat since my mother has thought of every scenario.
“I’m so excited for this trip, Freya. I really don’t want to ruin it being worried about your safety. You understand that, don’t you?” Mom asks, sullenly looking into my eyes. I feel guilty about upsetting her. Yeah, Mom and I haven’t exactly seen eye to eye lately, on how I’m going about my life and impending future, but I know her concerns all come from a place of love. Setting up my living arrangements next door is just another example of her worried ways on overdrive.
“I get it, Mom. You’re right. I will go over to the Perry’s tomorrow, and it will be like old times. I’m sure Anna has a bunch of activities already in place for me.” I smile, reminiscing about the times my next-door neighbor would spoil me rotten. Being my mother’s best friend, she came over a lot, wanting some girl time. Living in a house full of testosterone, she used our house as her small escape. She would always say how she envied my mother for having me. Always lamenting how she tried so hard for a baby girl, one who would go out shopping with her, or gossip over a fresh batch of double-fudge brownies. But instead, she got five strapping young sons, who didn’t share her love for chocolate or fashion. Luckily, she had Mom and me right next door to give her what she lacked at home.
“Well, that’s another thing. Anna and Carl are actually going on the cruise with your father and I. You know how Carl works so much and they hardly have any quality time together. So, your dad and I were able to convince them to tag along with us. It’s going to be amazing!” my mom shouts out in glee, with the thought of having her best friend traveling with her. But every word she utters feels like rocks have been thrown at my stomach.
“You mean to tell me it will only be the Perry boys and me in that house for a whole month?”
“Yep! One big slumber party, just like old times. You’ll have so much fun, I promise,” she says, not containing the big smile on her face.
&nbs
p; Fun is not the word I would use to describe being locked in a house with those five boys for the next four weeks.
Torture, yes.
Fun, no.
Guess my mom and I have a different opinion on the word. How the hell am I supposed to survive the next month alone with the Perry boys without giving myself away? At a distance, they have no clue I’m harboring some very lust-filled feelings towards them. But up close and personal? How am I supposed to act like their mere presence doesn’t set my skin on fire?
Yep, torture is definitely the word I would choose.
Chapter 2
Freya
I haven’t even set foot in the house, and my knees are already shaking. I’m never going to get through this if I don’t get it together. I try to remember how we were all friends once. How these boys protected me, with everything they had, since I was still wearing pigtails. They were my best friends growing up. My family.
It’s not their fault I pulled away. Once I hit puberty and started having these illicit fantasies – that no normal teenage girl had – I made the only plausible decision I could think of and kept my sanity safe. To control my hormonal body from caving into what my dangerous mind commanded, I stopped being their friend. I had to do something, and it felt the right thing to do at the time.
The boys didn’t take it all that well though. At first, the twins, Chaz and Carter, tried to understand why I no longer had any time for them. They begged and pleaded with me to come around, but my flimsy excuses to avoid them started to get old, and soon they stopped talking to me altogether.
Drew, Tyler, and Mason never made an effort as to even question my motives for pulling away from them, which also stung. So, when the twins followed suit without even trying to keep our friendship intact, my heart was ready for the blowout of my decision to keep them at arm’s length. They still said hi on occasion when they came over to my house, usually because their mom was there, but nothing more meaningful than the impersonal greeting.
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