Hateful Lies: A dark high school bully romance (Stonehaven Academy Book 1)

by Nora Cobb

  When the meeting ends, I walk out into the hallway and wait for Bryce. He almost hurries past me but stops short when he notices me leaning on the wall with my arms folded. He leans against the wall beside me, and neither one of us speaks. Professor Getz walks out of his office, looking a bit surprised to see us hanging out.

  “Good evening, sir,” Bryce nods and starts walking away.

  “Good evening, Prof…Professor Getz,” I mimic Bryce, hoping it sounds legit.

  “Good evening, Astrid.” Getz smiles, and I hurry up to catch Bryce. We walk side by side up the stairs to the first floor, and then Bryce holds the front door open for me.

  “Thank you,” I nod warily.

  He catches my hand and spins me around, so I’m facing him. “You’re not going to behave differently. Are you?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, knowing exactly what he means.

  “Good evening, Professor Getz.” He speaks in a squeaky voice that doesn’t sound anything like mine.

  “Thank you for helping me, Bryce, and now, go play with yourself.” I start walking fast toward the dining hall, but he catches up swiftly and walks beside me.

  “What do you want?” I bite out in a fury. “Why are you helping me?” I stop marching. “Don’t you dare think anything will ever happen between us.”

  He stares at me with those eyes that are a shade of blue that I’ve never seen on a person before. That color only appears in the ocean right before it rains but never on a person.

  “I don’t like you,” I squeak and start walking again.

  “Astrid.” He catches up again. “I do want something, but we will discuss it in private. Meet me in the stacks on the fourth floor of Stonier. You know where the stacks are located?”

  “In a library,” I reply coldly, “Except at my old school, we only had one book to read, so we called it the stack.”

  Bryce grimaces like I might be telling the truth. I’m seriously nuts if I meet him in a secluded place, but I have to be brave. I owe him money, and that doesn’t sit well with me.

  ***

  Wanting to belong isn’t my goal at Stonehaven, but I’ll figure out a way to be included. It’s not that I want to be best friends with the freakin’ campus. I want to be shown respect and get the chance I should’ve had if my father had stuck around. I’m not hurting anyone by wanting the education that’s been offered to me.

  Unfortunately, trusting Bryce is probably a big mistake. He’s going to want more than an IOU. He showed his shitty temper when we were at the Pit. Why did I let him get away with manipulating me? Maybe because he could? Fuck. I know how to tear up ass. I can still defend myself.

  I sigh, letting my shoulders slump. How can I expect Bryce to keep his hands to himself when I’m hell-bent on drop-kicking his ass every time I see him? Everyone at Stonehaven knows me as the girl that slapped Pierce and who can’t speak a sentence without cursing.

  I smile at the mental image of a shrieking Bryce sailing through the air, but this is wrong. The boy hates me, and now, I owe him money. He has something in mind, and my self-preservation needs to wise up and send me running in the opposite direction.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket with an urgent message from the main office. I’m to report to the office immediately and ask for Dr. Marianne Rawlins. Fuck.

  Christ, even I’m getting tired of saying that word.

  I stare at my phone and debate why she would want to see me. And a chill races down my spine and gives me a good shake. What if I’m in trouble for slapping people? What if they kick me out for it?

  Or, God forbid, it could be something wrong with Mom. I haven’t actually spoken to her since we both left the apartment. I don’t like how my mind is confusing me. At Monarch, I could stare a problem down with a hand firmly on my hip, and now, I want to sniff books and slide on polished floors.

  Fuck. Shit. Oh, screw it.

  I run toward Foxworth House on the other side of the campus for my appointment. Naturally, the tall building is red brick, but it has several white columns like a larger version of the post office in Rockingham. I huff up the steps, forgetting I’m wearing a skirt, and race into the office, almost knocking over a skittish freshman. The flustered girl flees before it occurs to me to say sorry.

  A grown woman behind the counter glares at me. She only looks old because she’s giving me an uppity attitude. She doesn’t want to hear anything from my mouth as she places her attention back on her computer screen. A brass bell similar to the kind in an old black and white movie sits on the counter, separating her from me. I tap it, and the lady glances over at me as if I shouldn’t touch her shit.

  “I got an urgent email for Dr. Marianne Rawlins,” I answer her raised eyebrows.

  The woman glares. “I’m sure it’s not urgent.”

  “But it is,” I reply.

  The woman goes right back to ignoring me, and I have to wonder if it’s personal. I tap the bell again, and the look she gives me would cracked solid ice. Patience is something I try to practice but have yet to perfect. Staring at her, I smile like the girls that float around campus with their designer bags from Paris.

  “I’m just going to email her back.” I pull out my phone. “And tell her I’m here waiting outside her office while you sit there.” I tap the blank screen she can’t see. “…and send.”

  The woman hoists her ass out of her chair and moves toward a wooden door on the right-hand side of the counter. She frowns in my direction then knocks twice on the closed door. Not believing a word I’ve said, she starts making excuses when the door opens.

  “This student says it’s urgent,” she announces, and a woman—Dr. Marianne Rawlins—steps out of the office.

  To me, Dr. Marianne Rawlins always seems like an older version of half the girls on campus. She probably never left Stonehaven. She is an attractive woman, slightly older than my mom but in better shape. And she has on the neatest suit I’ve ever seen. She must stand all day because there’s not a wrinkle on it. Her hair is silvery blonde and pinned back in a loose bun. She has on turquoise-colored glasses and a simple gold watch on her wrist. She screams class without opening her mouth.

  “Hello,” I smile tentatively. “My name is Astrid Bowen.”

  “I remember you.” She extends her arm toward me and waves me into her office. “So you’ve received my emails, Astrid?”

  I nod as I walk into a room that only this woman could sit in. It looks like an intelligent person works here, with crammed bookcases against the walls. And the furniture resembles antiques from a museum—an enormous oak desk a person could hide in, velvet sofas with carved wooden arms, and a carpet with a crazy circular pattern. It’s missing a lot of threads, but I guess she’s attached to it. I’m careful not to step on the bare spots.

  “Astrid, please sit down.” Dr. Rawlins points to a wingback chair while she sits behind her desk. “How is school?” Before I can answer, she opens a desk drawer and pulls out an envelope.

  “It’s fine,” I answer stiffly. Dr. Rawlins isn’t going to want to hear it sucks, except for Professor Getz’s club, of course.

  But Dr. Rawlins stares through me as if my genuine thoughts are printed on my brain, and she’s reading each one. “That’s good.” She pushes the white envelope across the desk. “Astrid, this is for you from your father.”

  I take the envelope and rip it open, finding a debit card inside with my name on it. I unfold the bank statement that it’s wrapped in, and my mouth swings open before I can catch it. The balance is fifteen hundred dollars. I can pay Bryce back.

  “It’s an allowance of sorts,” she states, “It should be enough for pocket money. Maybe buy some décor for your dorm room?”

  Folding it up, I wonder how much Dr. Rawlins knows about my week at Stonehaven. Does she know I slap boys? Or sneak off campus? Or owe Bryce money? An uncomfortable feeling descends over me as I form a sneaky plan in my head.

  “I’d like to thank my father,” I reply coolly, “but I left his
cell number in Mom’s apartment, and she’s traveling. I don’t have it in my phone. Would you have it?”

  “Nice try, kid,” she replies, “if you need anything else, please let me know.” She stands up and opens the door, and then motions the way out like an airline stewardess pointing to the emergency exits.

  Chapter 11

  Astrid

  The second I step outside, I hurry toward the library. Gym has already started at Stonier Hall, but I need a moment alone to sort this out. The campus has walking paths, circling around large boulders, with places to catch a little downtime without running back to the dorms. I can’t risk someone sneaking up and looking over my shoulder, so I head for the Jacob L. Hillman Library instead.

  Though all the buildings look ancient on the outside, the interiors are up to date with bright lighting, modern furniture, and climate control. The main floor has group study tables past the main desk. I sit at a circular table near a window, where no one can slip behind me. I pull the statement out of my backpack and read every line. The only name on the account is mine, but the bank is located on Main Street, and I can ask for his name. My new plan is to ride over there on my bike after school, except I have to meet Bryce first.

  Daddy dearest is stingy with the zeros. I stare at the amount again. It’s more than what I have, but I can earn this in two weeks if I hustle hard enough. I shove the envelope back into my backpack and head over to Stonier. I don’t want to miss gym; it’s the only class I’m good at.

  ***

  I take the elevator up to the fourth floor to reach the stacks, and when the doors open, I’m right there. The entire floor is rows upon rows of books that touch the ceiling. The lighting becomes dimmer as I walk into the stacks like I’m entering a forest of books. I run my fingertips along the bindings, craning my neck around corners and wondering if Bryce is even here yet. I should have gone to the bank instead. I had the time when I left gym class. I also discovered today I need a school uniform for gym. I thought I could wear my own gear. I’m starting to understand that every piece of clothing worn on campus serves a purpose at Stonehaven.

  The floor must be empty of people because the only sounds I hear are expected in a vast building. In the distance, the A/C cycles on and off, and a door out of sight bangs a couple of times. I consider calling out his name, but do I really want to see Bryce that badly? The last time we were alone…I shake the thought away. He intimidates me, and it has nothing to do with his size. It’s the way he looks at me with those sharp eyes. Instinctively, I hug myself, running my hands up and down my arms to rub the uncomfortable feeling away.

  It’s fucked up. I want to see Bryce for the rush. Arguing with him is as intense as being at the Pit. My first time in the ring was terrifying as a stocky girl beat me in a minute flat. I lay there on the hard concrete as she put her foot on my back until Derick dragged me away by my arms. It’s the novelty of another challenge that makes me want to see him, but I dread the power Bryce is gaining over me. I have to pay him back that money immediately. I can’t owe that boy anything. Even if I want the power he has, I have to find another way to get it. I have the opportunity, so I must have a better life. Like Mom says, youth is expendable, so invest in your brain.

  “You’re lost in thought.” Bryce steps in front of me, and I start. “Or maybe your head is up your ass?”

  I place my hand on my chest to hold down my pounding heart. “I thought you didn’t curse?”

  He smirks, curling his lips slowly into a smile. “It depends on the company.”

  “Hey. So, thanks again for helping me out,” I tell Bryce, “But I don’t need the money, so I’m going to pay you back tomorrow. In cash.”

  His eyes widen in wonder, and then he starts to laugh. “I already have money. And I don’t need yours. Besides, that’s not what I want from you.”

  My feet are thinking faster than my brain as I edge away from him. “Look, I have the money. I can pay you back the loan.”

  Bryce shakes his head. “That wasn’t the deal, Astrid.”

  My breathing is audible as I keep walking backward. I scan for a shortcut out of the stacks, but I wandered in too far. Fuck, this was stupid. I can’t fight Bryce off. Not in this tight space.

  Bryce closes the gap between us and looks down his nose at me. “Are you scared, Astrid?” he whispers, “What do you think I’m going to do to you?”

  His hand grazes my arm with a delicate touch that becomes brutal in a flash. The bastard left a purple bruise on my thigh because I didn’t listen to my gut. He’s too dangerous to challenge on his territory. I’m not strong enough yet. I pull away quickly, avoiding his grip as he tries to grab my wrist again.

  “This isn’t fair,” I hiss, “Just take your shitty money.”

  “But I want your body.” He laughs at my fear. “You should see your frightened face right now. Your eyes look like an owl’s. You aren’t tough.”

  My face hardens into a scowl. “It’s not a fair fight.”

  “I want your body.” Bryce pretends to yawn. “But not in the way your dirty little mind thinks.” He sneers as his gaze passes over me. “I want you to fight for me in the Pit.”

  The relief floods over me, cooling my skin and bending my knees. I actually sigh as a grin displaces the stress I felt moments before.

  Bryce scowls, no doubt annoyed by my reaction. “You’ll earn that money back for me and more,” he speaks softly as we walk toward the elevator, just in case. “I want to sponsor you as one of my fighters. Grinder is wasting your potential by pairing you with women whose only purpose is to entertain. You need to be the main attraction.”

  “What’s the split?” I reply, and his smile widens as his gaze holds mine.

  “Astute question,” he remarks, “Seventy-thirty split.”

  I scoff. “And who gets seventy?” My question is answered with a piercing stare. “I thought so,” I reply, “So, basically, you’re pimping me out.”

  “Astrid,” he sighs, “the world is a bigger place than the neighborhood where you crawled away from. Stonehaven is a different universe.”

  I give this guy the dirtiest look I can without swearing, but I can’t walk away. I have money in the bank, but it won’t last. Not around here. The club has fees. I need a gym uniform, and the dining hall closes early on the weekends. Plus, the campus security guards expect a twenty to ignore curfew. I won’t have that much cash unless I fight. I need the Pit, and now, I need Bryce to make sure I get paid the real money.

  “So, who else are you representing?” I hold my breath, waiting to hear Wyatt’s name. The way Bryce watched Mask tear that guy up last night, he must know his secret. Besides, they hang together. Shouldn’t they be close?

  “Don’t worry that pretty head about the details,” Bryce replies, pulling out his wallet, “Your only concern is training. There’s a private gym in Stonier.” He holds up a wad of bills in his hand like it’s a treat for being obedient. “I want you to train in the members-only gym. It’s private, and the facilities are state of the art. But there’s a fee.”

  I look down at the roll of bills in his outstretched hand. There’s a twenty on top, and judging by the width, it has to be at least three hundred dollars. In the Pit, a fighter learns how to count money without touching it.

  Beaming like a rich dick, Bryce holds it out toward me. Glaring nastily, I press my lips together then leave him hanging as I sashay away.

  Chapter 12

  Astrid

  Over the weekend, I run a hundred errands and spend all my money. Typical how fast cash flies out of my hands, and it’s on stuff I need. When I stop by the Rockingham Savings Bank, the teller won’t tell me the other name on the account. In fact, she looks at me like I’m crazy for suggesting there even is one. Fu—Screw her.

  When I return to Stonehaven, I put on my gear and head over toward Stonier to work out. Maybe that’s the problem. I really haven’t been releasing the tension, and it’s bunching up my shoulders into a knot. I walk past
a group of girls gossiping by the main door, and the conversation stops as they stare at me. I’m dressed in navy and black, not pink like the other girls, who are trying to bring me down.

  “She dresses like a little boy.”

  I ignore it and head for the counter. “Do I need to sign in?” I ask the kid sitting there.

  He pushes a notebook over without answering, and I write down the time along with my name. He watches as I write and then grabs a metal cash box from under the counter. I freeze as he puts it down, knowing that I’m down to a couple of hundred. It might be okay, but I don’t know when I’m fighting again.

  He opens the lid and holds out a key card. “Here’s your membership card,” he says, “You have an unusual name, so I recognized it.”

  The laminated card has my ID photo on it from my school ID. I tuck it into my gym bag, and I head toward the main gym where I had class.