Table of Contents
BULLY ME: CLASS OF 2020
About Bully Me
Copyright
CHARLIE
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About The Author
RIOT HOUSE
Prologue
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
THE ORIGINAL BULLET
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Author’s Note
About the Author
A PREQUEL TO THE BOY ON THE BRIDGE
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
LIKE YOU CARE
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Note from the author
About the Author
Devils’ Day Party: A Time Loop Bully Romance
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
MAKE YOU BEG
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About The Author
HOOD RIVER RAT
Blurb
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About Author K Webster
Bully Me: Class of 2020
Loving your tormentor isn’t easy, especially when they collect broken hearts and parade them around like trophies. They’re the bad boys, the alpha assholes, and the thorns in our sides. They push us past our limits, turn us on, and break us.
They’re our bullies.
They’re the class of 2020.
Eight bestselling authors are teaming up to bring you eight unique stories about the guys we love to hate.
This anthology benefits one of the largest anti-bullying organizations in the world, and all proceeds will go toward helping to support victims of bullying.
Bully Me: Class of 2020 Copyright © 2020
Siobhan Davis
C.M. Stunich
K Webster
Shantel Tessier
Kaydence Snow
Callie Hart
Sam Mariano
Coralee June
All rights reserved.
All authors listed above retain copyright over their respective works, which have been included within Bully Me: Class of 2020. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Formatting by CP Smith
Blurb
CHARLIE (Rydeville Elite #4)
This book is an interconnected standalone romance in the Rydeville Elite world. It can be read without having read the first three books in the series.
Demi
Dropping out of college senior year was never part of my plan. But Dad needs me, and I’d move mountains for the only parent I’ve ever known—even working for the company that fired him. It makes me sick, but I’m low on options.
My boss, Charlie, is determined to make my life a living hell, availing of every opportunity to undermine my confidence, to humiliate and threaten me.
Sleeping with him the night of his wedding might have something to do with his attitude.
Or the fact I’m the spitting image of the woman he really wants.
If our financial situation wasn’t so dire, I’d tell Charlie to stick his job up his delectable butt.
But I’m trapped, and things are only getting worse. Because the more layers I uncover, the more I realize he is nothing l expected and everything I crave.
Charlie
If there was a manual for all the ways a person could fuck up his life, it’d have my name written on it.
I can’t undo the things I’ve done, no matter how badly I want to, and every day is a constant reminder of my epic failure.
Especially her.
It’s as if Demi has been put on this earth to punish me. To inflict more torture and pain. Because every second I’m around her, she makes me feel things I don’t want to feel.
So, I lash out. Doing my best to push her away.
Until I realize she’s everything I never knew I needed, and the fight becomes a new battle—one to win her heart.
Prologue
DEMI
Christmas Night
RHYTHMIC BEATS REVERBERATE through the speakers, mingling with the sounds of boisterous laughter and raucous chatter as I glance at my watch and sigh. I grab hold of Xena’s arm, admiring her colorful ink, as I pull her down closer. “I’ve got to go,” I shout in her ear, a necessity in this noisy room if I want to be heard.
She loops her arm in mine. “Aw, not yet, babe. The night’s still young.” She nudges my hip, swaying her body in time to the beat of the music. “It’s Christmas,” she roars in my ear. “You can’t leave.” She grins, winking at her boyfriend Leo as he eyes her like he’s seconds away from jumping her bones.
“I want to stay, but I can’t. Mrs. Griffin has a family she needs to get home to,” I explain. It was sweet of her to keep Dad company while I attended this party, at one of our old high school buddy�
��s apartments in the downtown area, but I promised her I wouldn’t be long.
Understanding washes over Xena’s pretty face. “I keep forgetting. I’m sorry.”
I shrug, draining the last dregs of my gin cocktail. “Some days, I forget too.”
It’s only been two months since Dad had a stroke, which left him paralyzed from the waist down, and only one month since I dropped out of UMaine to move back home to help care for him.
It’s gradually sinking in—that the life I was leading, and the future I had planned, has all changed in the blink of an eye.
One brutal twist of fate altered my destiny, but I’m not crying over it.
It is what it is.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way, because Dad has always been there for me. From day one, he has had my back, and there isn’t anything I won’t do for him.
There’s no way I want strangers caring for him twenty-four-seven. As soon as we discovered his paralysis was permanent, I shed my old life and moved back home to Rydeville.
There was no dilemma. No anguished decision.
Dad needs me. He’s my only flesh and blood.
And I’m home to look after him.
“At least, we get to hang out on the regular again,” Xena says, pulling me into a hug. “I’ve missed you, girl.”
Xena was my best friend all through school, and we were as close as sisters. But after we graduated from the public high school in Rydeville, our lives went in very different directions. Xena had decided back in freshman year that college wasn’t in the cards for her. She walked straight into a job in her uncle’s tattoo parlor and hasn’t looked back since. My journey took me to the University of Maine and Isaac Sullivan, both now firmly relegated to the past.
“I’m glad we’re reconnecting,” I tell her, kissing her cheek. “And I’m so grateful for your support.” Xena and I slotted back into an easy friendship, and I’d be lost without her daily messages and calls. She helps keep me sane on days when despair threatens to kick in.
“Anytime. You know I’m always here for you.”
“Enjoy the rest of your night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I tease, waggling my brows as I watch the two guys circling her in anticipation. Only Xena would find two ripped, tatted, pierced hotties utterly devoted to her and take it all in her stride, like it’s commonplace to have two boyfriends.
Lucky bitch. My neglected libido wails in my ear, missing regular sex, but that’s the least of my worries right now.
I snatch my coat and my purse, wiggling my fingers at Bo and Leo and blowing one last kiss in my bestie’s direction as I push my way through the crowd swarming the living room, out into the icy-cold night air.
The slicing sting skating along my cheeks is welcome after the overcrowded, overheated room, and I take my time putting my coat on, leaving it unbuttoned as I check my purse to ensure I have everything. My cell rings, and I pull it out, frowning as I spot the familiar number.
“Demi speaking.”
“Oh, thank God,” the male voice on the other end says.
“Danny? Is that you?” I ask, as I start walking, needing to confirm it’s one of the security guards from the banking firm I work at because him calling me like this is beyond strange.
Usually, the building that houses Barron Banking and Financial Investment Services Limited is open twenty-four-seven with round-the-clock security personnel manning the fort, but I’d assumed things would change for the holidays. Guess I was wrong.
“It’s me. I’m sorry to call you so late on Christmas, but I can’t get hold of anyone else.”
I button my coat with fingers that are rapidly turning frozen, quickening my pace, while I keep the phone jammed between my ear and my shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“I’m not sure.” He sounds hesitant. “I’ve left messages for Mr. Barron, the president, and for Margaret Ann, but none of them are picking up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
It must be bad if he’s calling me. I’ve only been an employee for two weeks.
Although I followed in Dad’s footsteps in my choice of accounting major, I never expected to end up where he had spent the last twenty-two years of his life working, and I certainly never expected to work for the man who tossed him so callously on his ass the minute he got sick.
But, as the saying goes, beggars can’t be choosers. With mounting medical bills, we need the money. Pride doesn’t come in to it. It’s as simple as that.
“How can I help?”
“It’s Mr. Barron’s son. He arrived here a little while ago, and something is wrong. He was clutching a bottle of bourbon as he made his way up to the CEO’s office. Someone needs to get here and ensure he’s okay.”
I don’t recall babysitting rich pricks being part of my job description. “Can’t you just put him in an Uber and send him home?”
“He won’t talk to me. You’re closer in age. Maybe, you might have more luck.”
I snort. I’ve heard the rumors doing the rounds in the office about the boss’s son. That he never dates. Just acquires fuck buddies. And, apparently, he has a thing for older women. I might be a few years older than Charlie Barron, but I very much doubt I’m his type or that I’d stand any chance at getting through to him.
Mr. Barron Senior is a coldhearted prick, and I’ve zero desire to help him or his manwhore offspring. Not unless it’s something I’m contractually obligated to fulfill. “Sorry, Danny. I need to get home to Dad, and I’ve had a couple gin cocktails, so even if I was available to help, I can’t drive.”
“I’ll get Shirley, my wife, to pop round to your place, and I kinda already have a car on the way to pick you up,” he sheepishly admits.
“I don’t even know the guy, Danny!” I throw my hands in the air in exasperation even though he can’t see me. “And what makes you think he’ll talk to me?”
“Everyone loves you, Demi. And you’d be doing him a favor. He’s drunk off his ass, and if his father discovers he showed up here in such a state, there’ll be hell to pay. It can’t hurt to try. Please.”
I sigh, already knowing I’m going to regret this. But Danny is one of the few colleagues who was good to Dad after his stroke, one of the few who keeps in contact with him and makes the effort to visit, on the odd occasion. “Fine,” I huff. “But I’m only doing this for you.”
_______________
The driver pulls the Merc up in front of my new workplace, and I sigh. Lights are visible on the top-floor executive suite, and I can see Danny, his feet propped up on the security desk in the lobby, as I exit the back seat and walk toward the building.
I push through the doors, rubbing my frozen hands together as I smile at the gray-haired man who rises to meet me. “Merry Christmas, Demi. Thanks so much for this,” Danny says, enveloping me in a fierce hug.
I stretch up and kiss his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Danny. It sucks you have to work.”
He shrugs. “It’s not so bad. My shift only started a couple hours ago, so I got to spend the day with my family. I don’t mind working the graveyard shift, someone’s got to do it, and the extra money will come in handy.”
“You’re one of the good guys, Danny. Now, I see why my dad respects you so much.”
His cheeks stain, and it’s adorable. “Tell the old man Merry Christmas from me.”
“I will.” I smile. “And you owe me!” I tease as I stride toward the elevator bank with purpose.
I lean against the back of the elevator, watching the numbers rise as we shoot to the top of the building, wondering what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. This is crazy, and it could end up backfiring on me in a major way. Still, I’m here now, so I might as well see it through. I run my fingers through my long, dark tresses, unknotting the tangles the wind put there, as the doors open and I step out onto the executive level.
Everyone who works up here is in the executive secretarial pool, providing personal assistance to the various presidents and VPs. Unluckily for me, th
e CEO—Charles Barron the Second—needed a new assistant because the woman who worked with him for the past twenty years just retired, and I got the gig.
It’s not the best use of my talents, but accounting jobs are in scarce supply, especially for college dropouts. It was either nepotism or guilt that swung the scales in my favor, I’m guessing, but my stellar college record no doubt helped too. I plan to work hard to show I deserve this job on my own merits, that I’m capable of more than this position, and I belong here in my own right, not just because my dad used to be their financial controller.
It kills me looking at that man’s face every day knowing how he treated my father, but I’ve perfected the art of disguise, hiding my true thoughts and feelings, so Charles Barron doesn’t see how much I despise him.
When Dad first had his stroke, there was talk of brain damage. The company was quick to jump on that, using it as an excuse to terminate Dad’s employment. Sure, he got a decent severance package, but that’s already dwindling with the mounting medical bills. Thankfully, there was no brain damage, but the ink was already dry on the paperwork, the payoff sitting in Dad’s bank account, and there was little that could be done then to alter the outcome. After how callously Dad was treated, I didn’t want him returning anyway.
I can stick it out until I gain some experience under my belt and find something better.
The main lights are switched on, and I walk past empty workstations with a growing sense of trepidation. When I reach my workstation, I notice the door to Mr. Barron’s office is ajar. I remove my coat and place it and my purse on my desk as a shrill cry rings out in the solemn quiet. I gulp over the sudden lump in my throat as I lift my head, glancing at the door in front of me where the cry emanated from. Another anguished cry pricks my eardrums, the thread of pain evident in the strangled sobs, and it guts me.
When I got the call about Dad, I’ll never forget the panic, sheer terror, and caustic pain that ripped my insides apart. I was so scared he would die alone in that hospital bed, and when I arrived to find him stable, I cried my eyes out in a mix of relief and fear, because I knew, in that moment, that everything had changed.
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