Like You Care: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Devilbend Dynasty Book 1)

by Kaydence Snow

  “Shut the fuck up, you whore,” Madison growled as my cheek burned.

  For a few seconds, the only sound was my ragged breathing, bouncing off the abandoned walls of the dark classroom. There were no running footsteps out in the hall, no worried cries—no one had heard me scream.

  No one was coming.

  I swallowed back the fear threatening to take over and took a deep breath. I needed to stay calm. I needed to get myself out of this.

  Madison was still by the door, and Jayden was still holding me, his grip on my upper arms sure to bruise. He seemed to be the only guy.

  Kelsey wasn’t with them. Whatever Donna had on her must’ve been way heavier than threatening poor people’s jobs—and that had been going straight for the throat. Which begged the question . . .

  “Why are you doing this?” My voice was croaky, weak. “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “Your stuck-up cousin’s threats spooked people, but we talked it over, and . . .” She shrugged. “I don’t believe her. I mean, she’s a senior in high school, just like us. As if she could really get anyone fired.”

  I chuckled darkly and shook my head. Clearly, they didn’t know Donna. But laughing was the wrong move.

  Another slap stung my cheek, and Madison leaned in close, baring her teeth. “Who the fuck does she think she is, coming here and threatening us? Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re not one of them. You’re poor, sad, worthless trash. And you need to be reminded of it.”

  Did she realize she’d just put us in the same category? That she’d all but referred to herself as worthless trash?

  It probably wasn’t wise to laugh again though. That last hit had cut the inside of my cheek, and the taste of coppery blood filled my mouth.

  Steph poked her head out the door and looked up and down the corridor. “No one’s around. Let’s get moving.” She walked out of the room, and the others followed, Jayden pulling me along roughly.

  Where were they taking me? What were they going to do to me? They’d never gone this far. Even the incident with the mop hadn’t made me bleed, and it felt as if they were just getting started.

  In the week after Donna’s show, I almost couldn’t believe how well it had worked. They had really been leaving me alone. It was all I’d ever wanted. She’d pushed them into a corner and made it clear it was either submit to her demands or be ruined.

  But that’s the thing—when animals are pushed into a corner, the only thing they can do is fight. Madison and her crew were fighting, all right. But four against one wasn’t exactly fair.

  As we rushed through the dark hallways of the school, I tried to scream another few times, but one of them would always shove me or smack me over the head; they didn’t seem too worried about it. They knew just as well as I that everyone had gone home.

  I’d have to figure out some way to save myself. Whatever I had in my bag was useless, sitting as it was in the empty classroom where I’d dropped it. The only thing I had on me was my phone, tucked into the back pocket of my jeans. All I could do was hope they didn’t discover it, and wait for a moment when I could call for help.

  At the doors leading out to the football field, they paused again, checking that the coast was clear. Then we were making our way across the grass, which was still wet from the previous night’s rain. The bluish-gray light of dusk covered everything in a gauzy blanket of shadows, and the chill wind raised goosebumps along my forearms.

  Out in the open, I hoped there might be someone around to hear me, so I screamed again.

  Jayden shoved me to the ground. The impact cut off my scream, pushing all the air out of my lungs.

  “Shut the fuck up!” he roared above me, one foot on either side of my hips. “Scream again and I’ll knock out all your teeth.” He turned to Madison and threw his arms out. “What the fuck are we doing, Madison? This bitch isn’t worth it.”

  Madison’s tone was clipped, her rage barely restrained. “Get her ass up and get her to that goal post, now. I refuse to be threatened by her. She needs to learn a lesson she’ll never forget.”

  Jayden sighed but did as he was told, dragging me up roughly by the arm.

  They’d completely lost the plot. She was so outraged I’d dared to step out from under her control, so angry with the world and her place in it, she was lashing out. She wasn’t even thinking about the consequences. All she could see was red.

  I’d never been more scared in my life.

  This wasn’t about humiliating me in front of the rest of the school.

  This went deeper.

  “Against the pole.” Madison pointed, and Jayden slammed me into the goalpost, my back crunching.

  The other girls disappeared behind me and yanked my arms back. A cable tie zipped into place around my wrists.

  “What do we have here?” Steph taunted as she pulled my phone out of my back pocket. I closed my eyes and sighed. That was my only chance . . .

  She held it by one corner and waved it in front of my face, smirking.

  Bonnie grabbed it, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it, the screen making a devastating cracking sound under her foot. “Who the fuck would you have to call anyway?”

  My eyes went wide. I knew they could do serious harm to me, was preparing myself for it. But with my hands tied to the pole and no way out, for the first time, I wondered if they were about to kill me.

  The panic I’d been holding back broke through, and I started crying. Sobs racked my body, and tears trailed down my cheeks.

  “Please,” I wailed. “Please, just let me go. No one has to know. I won’t even tell Donna. Just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened.”

  Bonnie spat at my feet as Madison mimicked me. “Please, please, don’t hurt me. Wah!” She ended on a cruel laugh, which her sadistic friends echoed. “Like I give a shit if you tell Donna. Like I give a shit what you want.”

  She stepped forward and shoved her thumb against my right eye. I closed it just in time, but she didn’t try to gouge it out as I expected. Instead, she dragged her thumb down my cheek, smearing the makeup.

  She cocked her head, surveying her work as more tears poured out of me. “There. That’s more like it. Now you look like the trash you are. And since you insist on trying to cover it up with makeup, your rich-bitch friends, and this, quite frankly, rude new attitude . . .” She shook her head like a disappointed mother scolding her child. I hoped to god Madison never had children. “Well, it’s time to expose you. Completely. Lay you bare, so to speak, for the world to see. The football team has practice here tomorrow morning, right, Jayden?”

  He nodded and gave her a bored “yeah.”

  She grinned. “Excellent. Then they’ll see you. Maybe a few of them will even use you. That’s all that lumpy body of yours is good for anyway.”

  I was getting a little confused. Were they just going to leave me out here all night? I could work with that. I could try to reach my phone as soon as they left.

  Like an idiot, I let hope spark in my chest.

  They crushed it almost immediately.

  Madison reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out something small enough to fit in the palm of her hand. Slowly, she pulled the switchblade straight, giving the sharp edge of the knife a little stroke.

  The others shared uncertain looks. Obviously, she hadn’t shared this part of the plan with them.

  “Madison?” Bonnie was the only one brave enough to tentatively voice her discomfort.

  But Madison ignored her. With every slow step she took toward me, the beating of my heart somehow ratcheted up even harder and faster. At this rate, I’d die of a heart attack.

  I sobbed again and turned my head to the side.

  She pressed the blade flat against the side of my nose, right at the edge of my birthmark.

  “Maybe I should cut this out. It’s so disgusting,” she whispered close to my face as another sob shuddered through me. “But no, that would be doing you a favor. Don’t wanna catch
any diseases anyway.”

  Instead she trailed the knife down my cheek, over my jaw, and down my neck, moving to the middle of my chest.

  She bunched the top of my T-shirt in her fist, adjusted her grip on the knife, and started hacking away at the fabric. She didn’t stop until it was cut all the way down the middle, and then she pulled my bra away from my chest, wedged the knife between the cups, and cut that too.

  The others stood by doing nothing, saying nothing, as Madison dragged the tip of the knife down my torso. Just before it reached my belly button, a flash of movement over her shoulder caught my attention.

  Someone was running—sprinting across the field toward us. The sky was now nearly completely dark, only faint indigo light and the brightly shining moon making it possible to see.

  He was halfway to us before I realized it was Turner. Relief warred with uncertainty in my chest.

  Noticing my attention was on something behind them, the others all turned.

  “Fuck,” Madison muttered under her breath.

  Bonnie looked as if she was ready to bolt, wide eyes flicking between Turner and me.

  Madison’s knife was still pressed to my belly.

  Turner stopped just a few yards away, breathing hard, his shocked gaze taking the scene in.

  Jayden recovered first and took a step toward him. “Hey, man. Let’s get out of here and leave the girls to it.”

  Turner looked at him as though he’d only just realized he was there, then his eyes zeroed in on me—the cut-up clothing, my arms tied behind me, the mess that was my face.

  I couldn’t look away from his eyes, but I started to cry again.

  I was out of my mind with fear, and in that moment, I had no idea what he might do.

  Would he crack a joke, join them in torturing me?

  Do nothing and just walk away, as he had every other time?

  Snap out of his shock and try to help me?

  Did I even want him to, knowing what it would mean for Jenny, for his family, for all that he’d sacrificed to get here?

  Everything was so fucked up; I had no idea what the boy I loved would do next, and that almost broke me.

  “What . . .” The single word fell from his lips softly, hanging in the moonlight between us. Then his eyes hardened, his nostrils flared, and he roared, “What the fuck is wrong with you people?”

  Jayden dropped his friendly act and got in Turner’s face. They were almost the same height. “Just walk away, Turner. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “Walk away and let you keep hurting her?” Turner pushed Jayden, who stumbled back. Without giving him a chance to recover, Turner threw his whole body behind a solid punch to the other boy’s face. Jayden went down hard, clutching his nose.

  Madison pointed the knife at Turner.

  The other girls backed away, looking as though they wanted to run but were too afraid of what might happen if they did.

  “Get away from him, you psycho!” I screamed as Madison swung the little switchblade. Turner leaned back, avoiding the swipe at his chest.

  I pulled at my restraint in vain, the hard plastic digging farther into my wrists. My fingers were completely numb.

  Turner lunged and grabbed Madison’s wrist, stopping a second strike. With his other hand, he gripped a fistful of her hair and yanked. She cried out in pain, and Turner took the knife smoothly, tossing her to the ground as soon as he had it.

  “Leave!” he bellowed. “Get the fuck away from her before I completely lose my shit!”

  The girls backed away immediately, breaking into a run when they realized he wasn’t going to chase them down like the animals they were.

  Madison helped Jayden to his feet. He looked as if he was considering having another go at Turner, but any idiot could see he didn’t stand a chance, especially when Turner had the knife.

  Madison sneered at me. “This isn’t over.”

  Turner stepped between us, breaking her line of sight. “Oh, it’s fucking over.”

  Without saying another word, they walked away. About halfway up the field, they started to bicker, gesturing with their hands, but by then, they were out of earshot.

  Once he was sure they were gone, Turner rushed to my side, his hand hovering around my shoulder, beside my head, but not connecting. “Oh god, Mena.” He sounded pained, his soul as tortured as my body.

  I closed my eyes and cried some more. I hated that he was seeing me like this, even as a forceful wave of relief coursed through me. I hated that he was hurting. In that moment, I hated the whole fucking world.

  Turner stepped behind me and carefully cut the cable tie. As soon as my arms were released, I collapsed to the ground, the wet grass squelching beneath my knees.

  Despite my numb fingers, I managed to cover myself with the ragged bits of my T-shirt before slumping forward and completely giving in to emotion.

  I was hysterical—crying, rocking back and forth, yelling as all the pain registered over and over in my overworked mind. My knees hurt where I’d fallen on them. My hands were in agony as the blood rushed back to my fingers. My shoulder ached from when they’d shoved me to the ground. My head pounded. My cheek stung.

  My soul was the worst though—my soul was in tatters.

  Turner wrapped his arms around me so gently—as if worried that if he pressed too hard, I might shatter. He was murmuring something, but his words didn’t register. All I could focus on was the feel of his strong arms; his fresh, clean smell; the rocking motion of our bodies.

  All that mattered was that he was there. He’d been there for me in the single darkest moment of my life.

  I wrapped an arm around his waist, and he drew me closer into his chest, rubbing my back, kissing my hair.

  “I’m here.” His words finally broke through the fog of my shock, and I stopped sobbing. “You’re OK. You’re safe. I won’t let them hurt you ever again.”

  “Shit.” I gripped his jacket in one fist. “Turner, what about Jenny?”

  “Shh. It’s OK. Don’t worry about that right now. We’ll figure it out.”

  I had to take his word for it. I could cope with only so much at one time.

  He stroked my hair. “I’m gonna call the police now, OK?”

  “No.” I pulled back to look into his eyes—his red, crying eyes. I held my T-shirt together with one hand and stroked his cheek with the other, softening my voice. “Please, don’t call the police.”

  He frowned. “OK, then let’s find a way to contact a teacher or the principal to report them. There has to be some kind of after-hours emergency number.”

  I was shaking my head before he finished speaking. “No, Turner. They don’t care. No one gives a shit what happens to me. Haven’t you learned by now? I’m nothing. I don’t matter.”

  No one cared about me. No one. How could this have happened to me if they did? What was the point in trying to tell someone when they didn’t care to listen?

  I wanted to get away from it all. I wanted to ignore the world as it had ignored me. I wanted my very existence to stop so this pain would stop too.

  Turner looked angry. He huffed and shrugged out of his jacket, then draped it around my shoulder and helped me put my arms through the sleeves. “You’re not nothing. You matter to me more than anything on this fucked-up world.”

  I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say to that.

  Moisture was seeping into my jeans. I shivered. “Just take me home, Turner. Please.”

  He gave me a searching look, then zipped up the jacket. “OK, Mena. Let’s go home. I’ve got you.”

  He didn’t let me even try to stand up myself. He just grabbed my broken phone, gathered me into his arms, and started to walk across the football field.

  I rested my head on his shoulder and stared up at the impassive moon.

  I awoke with a start, but the feel of Turner’s warm, comforting arms made me relax back into his side almost immediately.

  “What . . .” I cleared my throat. It was so
re from screaming for help, but that was the least of my worries. “What time is it?”

  “Just after ten. You dozed off.” He kept his ocean-deep voice low—a balm to my bruised soul.

  I sighed against his shoulder and snuggled closer, staring out the window. His curtains were wide open, the moon intruding on our private moment.

  The past few hours were a bit of a blur, but I’d obviously felt safe enough to fall asleep. Small victories. I remembered Turner shuffling me gently into the back of a cab, the driver grumbling about the short fare.

  He hadn’t let me walk when we were dropped off outside our building, scooping me right back into his arms. “Do you want me to come in with you? Talk to your parents together?” he’d asked.

  “They’re not home. I don’t want to be alone. Take me to yours?”

  He did as I asked, not even setting me down in the elevator. It seemed his dad was out too—his apartment was dark, silent. I hardly registered a couch, a kitchen as we passed.

  I asked to use his shower, and he hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt. “OK, but . . .”

  “What?”

  “I know you don’t want to go to the police or whatever, but can I take some photos first? Just so you have them. If you change your mind later.” He eyed me warily.

  I didn’t want to think about why I might need them, what he wanted to take photos of. I just nodded.

  The flash cut harshly through the darkness of his bedroom, and I closed my eyes. He took several photos—of my face, my wrists, my clothing. Then he shuffled me to the bathroom and got awkward again, asking if I needed help.

  I’d managed without him.

  I remembered thinking it felt good to be in his T-shirt and boxer briefs—comforting. We must have settled on the bed soon after.

  The next thing I knew, I was starting awake.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  I wished we could stay like this forever, cocooned in the darkness, away from the rest of the world. But eventually, things started to creep back into my head—ugly, insidious things crawling over my comfort and ruining everything.