Her Secret: A Reverse Harem Romance (Bad Influence Book 1)

by Ivy Fox

  “YOU FUCKER!!!” Drew screams, and even though I can’t see him anymore, the sounds of punches being delivered from all sides are unmistakable. The monster attempts one more time to shove his tongue down my throat, but this time I’m ready for him and bite down with all my might until I feel blood pool inside my mouth. Before I have time to vomit the liquid out, my eyes only catch four scraped out knuckles make their way to my face, and either in a blessing or a curse, I black out.

  Chapter 20

  Chaz

  “The fucker!” I shout out, flipping my phone face down on the table.

  “What now?” Carter asks, taking a pull of his beer.

  I’m pretty certain it’s his third in less than thirty minutes. I’ll probably need to put his bike into Mase’s truck bed again tonight. Or I can just leave it here at the beach so it gets stolen. It would serve him right for his carelessness. My twin seems to be under the impression that he can drive to the beach bar sober and drive back pissed drunk. No way am I letting that go down under my watch. So, it’s water for Mase and me, the responsible drivers, while Carter and Tyler get wasted.

  But that’s not what has my panties in a twist. It’s fucking Drew and his constant texts. The fucker really knows how to mess with a guy’s head, that’s for sure. He’s been sending us pictures of Freya, without her realizing it, and each photo is like a stab to the heart. Usually, they consist of broadcasting her pain and anguish, as if we needed the reminder. I would swear Drew is a fucking sadist for making us see that shit.

  But this last one, of her completely naked curled up against him sleeping peacefully, took the fucking cake. The dipshit even tags his own subtitles to each shot. Like, “Your girlfriend cried herself to sleep, fuckers! Hope you’re proud of yourselves.” Or “You’re breaking her apart, you assholes!” But this latest one sliced me in two. “Our girl just saw God. Where the fuck were you?!”

  Carter slams his foot on mine to grab my attention. He shrugs as the clueless drunkard he’s been acting like lately.

  “Check your goddamn phone. I’m sure all of you got the same text!” I grunt, standing up and thinking that one fucking shot of tequila won’t diminish my driving skills, but it will take a bit of the sting my brother’s pic has inflicted on me.

  “Bastard!” Tyler growls when I come back with my prized shot.

  “What a dick!” Carter bellows, snapping his fingers for the waitress to get him another beer. The bar counter is like two feet away. Still, the lazy ass prefers to wallow in his seat. Mason just stares at his phone, completely lost in his misery. I sit back down and give him my tequila shot. He doesn’t even register the gesture until I pull his phone away and slide the alcohol in front of him. He doesn’t think twice and flings it down his throat. When he’s done, he slams it on the table, startling all of us around it.

  “That’s enough,” he says.

  “Damn straight! We need to shut Drew down. This is like some twisted reverse psychological shit he’s pulling on us,” Carter slurs.

  “No, I mean, I’ve had it. I’m done. Drew is in the right. We’re the fuckers in the wrong.” Mase clarifies.

  “What are you on about? Drew is not in the right at all. He should be here with us instead of back home. What kind of man does that to his brothers?” Tyler barks.

  “And what kind of men turn their back on the woman they love?!” Mason shouts out, grabbing the attention of the rest of the bar’s clientele.

  “She doesn’t love us.” Tyler laments, taking another sip of his beer.

  “Does this look like she doesn’t love us?” Mason spits back, showing Freya’s porcelain frame cuddled into Drew’s side. Tyler fixes his sights on the image, and I know my brother wishes it was his hand fondly stroking her back instead.

  Mason grabs his truck keys, but I put my hand on his chest to stop his retreat. He looks like he’s about to punch me in the face if I continue to step in his way, but I just nod and ask him to wait a second. I put both my hands on the table and look Tyler and Carter in the eye.

  “While we’re here pissing the day away, Drew is the only one of us with half a brain. He’s not giving up on her, and we fucking bailed at the first sight of hardship. She doesn’t deserve us, that’s for sure. But I, for one, am going to stand next to my brother and fight for what’s mine. I’ll grovel, I’ll beg, and I’ll bleed until she has forgiven me, but I am not staying here one more minute wasting precious time, while I could be by her side instead.” I tell them.

  I’m sick and tired of licking my wounds as if Freya has died or something. She hasn’t. She’s in my house this very moment living in pain because we dumb fucks weren’t able to talk her off the ledge. She was just fucking scared, and we fed her fear. I refuse to live another day with regrets. If down the line they should come to pass, then at least I’ll know I came out swinging and fought tooth and nail for my girl.

  “You assholes have anything to say?” I taunt.

  “When the fuck did you start to sound like an adult?” Mason questions proudly.

  “The day I turned my back on my girl while she was breaking apart. I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’ll become the man she deserves, not the boy who was too scared to do anything about it,” I state plainly. Mason beams a smile that I thought would never appear on his face again.

  “Let’s go,” he tells me, but before we take another step, Tyler stands up, knocking his chair to the floor.

  “Wait,” he says and then bends down to pick his seat up.

  “Get some coffee in Car and me. Let us sober up a bit. I don’t want Freya to see us like this. If I’m fighting for the life I want, then I need to be sober first,” Ty says, taking Carter’s bottle out of his hands.

  “You on board, Car?” Ty asks, and I almost think my twin is going to bawl like a baby with relief.

  “Yeah. Order the coffee,” he replies.

  “About fucking time.” I exhale.

  It took three hours to get Tyler and Carter somewhat sober and cleaned up. At least they’re presentable enough for Freya, who may not notice that they were trying to kill themselves binge drinking. It’s just a bit past nine when we finally make it home. One thing immediately unnerves me when we arrive, and that’s the fact that all the lights are turned off in our house. Sure we saw that Drew and Princess took a nap in the afternoon, but they should be awake by now.

  My suspicions run amok when Ty opens our front door, and the first thing I hear is a muffled cry.

  “YOU FUCKING BASTARDS!” Drew screams out from upstairs.

  The fuck?!

  “I’LL KILL YOU ALL IF YOU TOUCH HER!”

  A cold shiver runs down my spine when I hear a multitude of chuckles after my brother’s threat. And that’s when each one of us sober the fuck up and only see red.

  We run upstairs to where the commotion is taking place, and when Tyler kicks in the door of Princess’ room, it takes everything in me not to barf my insides out. Freya is out cold, naked on the bed with some forty-year-old greasy fucker all over her. I only take a minute to establish he’s still fully dressed, but I’m not quite sure if we’ve come at the beginning of this horror show, or are already in its ending credits.

  Drew is gagged on the floor with two guys holding him down, and Mason, Ty, and Carter kick the men to the ground, freeing Drew, who throws himself on the disgusting bastard who insists on touching what will never be his. I fly off the handle and grab the nasty fucker’s arms behind his back, most certainly breaking bone with the force.

  “YOU BASTARD! I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” Drew yells, throwing punch after punch on the villain. I don’t say anything, but hold on tight, letting Drew take his vengeance. All the while my eyes seek out Freya, who is still cold as stone on the bed with her face covered in blood. I tighten my hold, only happy when I hear the intruder’s shoulder pop out of its socket. By the way Drew is going at him, he’ll be eating his meals through a straw for the rest of his life.

  With all the surrounding chaos, I g
athered my bearings only when the cops showed up and pulled us away from all three men. The neighbors must have called the police after all the ruckus we were making. I used to hate that shit when I was throwing a party, but right now, I’m thanking God for nosy neighbors, and the usually-unwelcomed law enforcement. Drew pulls himself out of the policeman’s hold and runs to Freya, covering her naked skin. It’s enough that these sickos got a view of our girl, no need to add the Hills’ men-in-blue to the list.

  “Freya, baby? Wake up, baby. We’re here. It’s all over.” Drew cries. My own tears make an appearance as I kneel next to her, and grab her hand, kissing it over and over again. Although it’s still a warm summer’s night, her fingers feel like ice.

  “Baby, you need to wake up now, okay? Can someone please grab a wet towel?” Mason yells, and a pale-faced Carter runs to the bathroom.

  “Boys, the ambulance is on its way. I’m going to need you to leave her as she is, so the paramedics can take a look at her,” one cop says, unaffected by the night’s events. I give him the stink eye, and try to kiss Freya’s hand back to life. Carter runs to us with a wet cloth, and Mason takes it and starts cleaning the blood away from Freya’s face. But it doesn’t seem to be enough.

  “Let me the fuck through!” Tyler belts and this is when I see that he was being held by three policemen on the ground. Probably their way of preventing Ty from murdering one of the men he had pounced on. Once Tyler is by Freya’s side, the fear and anguish – that we must all be showing – shines through him.

  “Princess?” he whispers in agony, pushing her hair to the side. He places both arms under her and lifts her off the bed. Drew arranges the sheet, so no part of her is uncovered.

  “Son, what do you think you’re doing? I told you the paramedics will need to look at her,” the same officer says annoyed.

  “Well, when they get here, tell them to wait,” Tyler barks back.

  “Why you little…” The cop starts, but then another man puts a hand on the red-faced cop’s shoulder.

  “Son, I think what the deputy here is trying to say, is that your friend might need to be looked over. For evidence, I mean.” Explains the gray-haired man in a bad suit and tie.

  “Who are you? And what do you mean by evidence?” Tyler questions, his panicked tone only a reflection of what we all feel.

  “I’m Detective Haggart, and I am in charge of this case. I need you to hear me, son, when I tell you that you need to place your friend back on the bed. She may have injuries that you can’t see. We need forensics and a rape kit done, if that’s the case,” the detective calmly pronounces, and my bile reaches my throat in a volcanic rage. Tyler’s flared gaze turns from the detective to a bloodied up Drew.

  “We’re going to clean her and wake her up. The first faces she sees should be ours, not some strangers’. The rape kit won’t be necessary. My brothers got here in time,” Drew states.

  Carter goes off to the corner, lifts the trash bin to puke his guts out. He puts it back down, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve and stands next to us as if nothing happened. Before the detective can say another word, Ty turns his back and walks Freya into the bathroom.

  Carter and Mason stay at the door, preventing anyone from coming inside. I turn on the water faucet, getting it warm enough for our girl, while Drew removes the sheet wrapped around her. Tyler places Freya, ever so gently, in the tub while I turn the shower head on, making sure the spray doesn’t hit her bruised face. Both Tyler and Drew clean her up, and mid-way through Freya opens her eyes.

  It takes her a minute to gain her bearings, but when she sees all five of us standing around, protecting her as we should have done from the start, her tears start streaming down her face.

  Tyler jumps into the tub, holding her naked frame to his clothed wet one. All three of us try to soothe her. We tell her it’s over and promise that something like this will never happen again. That we are here for her, and that we are sorry. So fucking sorry. She hears it all, never saying a word. Carter brings some clean clothes and a pair of sandals, which we put on her trembling body. I brush her wet hair, never once looking away from her fainted eyes.

  “Boys, we’ll need to talk to your friend. We’ll need statements from all of you. We can’t wait any longer,” the detective announces on the other side of the door.

  “Are you up for that, Princess? We can tell him to fuck off if you want? I’m sure we can give our statements tomorrow at the station, if you’re not up for it,” I tell her, rubbing the sides of her arms, up and down. Even after a hot bath, she’s still cold as hell.

  “It’s okay. I want to do it now,” she hushes looking at the ground.

  “Whatever you want, Princess,” Mason says behind me. Freya lifts her head, and takes one long look at each of us, before walking to the door. Once she opens it, the detective offers her a small comforting smile.

  “Are you ready to answer some questions, sweetheart? Is there anyone you need to accompany you?” he asks, looking behind her to the five men that would throw themselves on a blade for her.

  “Yes, I’m ready. But if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like for someone to call my mom,” she replies.

  “Well, of course. We’ll make the call right now. Is there anything else that you need?” he asks in earnest, seeing for the first time the fragile girl he has in his hands.

  “Yes. I’d like to go home. Please take me home.”

  Chapter 21

  Freya

  It’s been two weeks since the ‘incident’ – as my mother likes to say – happened. After that night, the next couple of days were all a blur to me. Detective Haggart stayed true to his word and brought me home, with the promise I would always have a deputy at my door until my parents arrived. Once they heard the news, they took the very first red-eye flight they could get on to, and since their arrival, they have been hovering over me. Especially my mother.

  I’m not too sure what the detective said, but I can imagine he told her enough. Not only does she feel guilty for leaving me alone in a house with five men, but also because they couldn’t protect me the way she imagined they would. I’ve told her time and time again, they did the very best. If they didn’t show up when they did, I might need more counseling than I’m getting now.

  I couldn’t sleep for five whole days after the attack, and when I was too tired to stay awake, that’s when the night terrors began. Detective Haggart has guaranteed that he built an airtight case against the monsters that tried to burglarize, amongst other things, the Perry’s home. It should ease me knowing those evil men will never see the light of day again. But I guess it will take time to heal certain wounds. Time that my mother feels is best spent without interference from the boys next door.

  I have replaced one tower for another. Only this time, it’s against my will. Yes, that first night I wanted distance. Distance from the room that Drew and I had been attacked in. I wanted the familiarity of my own room, of my own things. I needed to feel secure under my blankets, and the house next door just didn’t provide me that anymore. But one crucial thing was still missing to speed my healing process. Or better yet, five important men were missing.

  With my phone and laptop being confiscated by my mother, to prevent me seeing the news or being reminded of that night by scrolling down some friend’s Facebook page, I had no way of getting in touch with the pieces of my heart.

  Even my window, which was my main point of access to them before, offered little comfort. Not one boy took a swim or came out to the yard. Not even once, in the full two weeks I’ve been locked in my room by a very concerned and wary mother.

  As far as I know, they haven’t tried to reach out to me either, but my parents could be lying in that regard too. I don’t think they have taken too kindly, learning that I was in bed with Drew at the time of the assault.

  I guess it could have been worse. It could have happened when we still had the two mattresses on the floor for all of us to share. Yeah, that might have been even more di
sturbing for my conservative parents. But I didn’t care anymore. Life was too short to go around living a lie. I loved them. I always have. And if people will look sideways at us, well I guess it’s their problem, not ours.

  But time was ticking. I knew Chaz would have already told his college advisor that he would take the available spot in Paris. Drew and Carter had been toying with the idea of taking a gap year themselves and accompany Chaz to France, and only take online courses for instance. Even learning the language of love from the fuckers who wrote the book on it, as Chaz kept telling them.

  With Mason and Tyler going back to the city to resume their own studies, I had no idea when I would see my men again. I look out my window for the millionth time, driven only by either desperation, or the light bulb finally coming to life, do I come up with a plan. I run to my bedroom door, adrenaline pulsing through my veins and yell down to my mother that I’ll be taking a nap, begging for her not to disturb me.

  “Alright, honey,” she replies, totally unaware of my crazy scheme.

  I lock my door, just in case, and move to the window that has full sight of the Perry’s backyard. I open the window, locking it in place, and do the unthinkable. I sit on the ledge, pulling one leg and then the other outside until both are dangling in the air. I’ve played the Princess in the tower game long enough. Sometimes the heroine in the story shouldn’t wait to be rescued by her knights, but get some balls and take her freedom with her own two hands. I hear Tyler in my head, telling me how brave I am; Mason’s protective voice telling me to be careful; Drew’s words of encouragement ring in my ear; Carter’s loving and supportive smile is engraved in my mind; and Chaz…Well, Chaz just tells me to fucking jump already.

  So I do.

  I give myself just enough balance and jump my two-story house. In the movies, I would have jumped and landed on both feet, like an experienced and feisty feline. But since this is real life, I land on my ass. Well, mostly anyway. The pain is excruciating but not enough to warrant concern. I’d feel much worse if I had actually broken anything.