Fury (New Adult Romance) - #1.5 Fierce Series

by Clarissa Wild

  After I’m done, I shake my limbs, loosening them. I hang a ball on a tree branch so I can use it as a target. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do. I can’t just replace it with a living human being, and I don’t have the money to get the real thing.

  I blow out some concentrated breaths and ready my fists before striking hard and fast. I’m throwing out as many punches as I can, forcing myself to step over my boundaries. With each strike I drift further away into my thoughts, into my memories, and I’m reminded of the pain. The gash in my heart the moment my brother was ripped away from me. The gang that’s behind it all. The gang that I’ve now joined.

  My anger drives my fists even harder into the ball. With each hit, I imagine it’s one of them that I’m hitting, and it makes my strikes so much better. I’m fueled by my rage. I even hit it so hard I send it flying into the air.

  It reminds me of the times my brother and I used to do this. Just the two of us, a long time ago. He’d teach me how to fight, how to fend for myself. He always told me to use my anger as a tool to increase my strength. Especially when the bullies were harassing me.

  I guess he regrets part of that now, since I started beating them up instead of it being the other way around.

  I draw in a deep breath and wipe the sweat away from my forehead. Taking a break, I look around campus and notice Leafy sitting in the grass with her friend. The sun makes her glow, and she looks so radiant, so alive. So oblivious to what’s going on all around her.

  I like how she’s not involved in anything dangerous, and that I know there’s at least one normal person in my life. Although we’re still not on friendly terms. Not yet.

  But I love looking at her, and the way she smiles at her friend, and how she wriggles her nose when she’s embarrassed. How her tiny body could fit perfectly in my arms.

  When she turns her head and notices me, her eyes widen. My lips curl up into a lazy, arrogant smile as her cheeks turn red. Damn, she looks cherry-poppin’ hot.

  She doesn’t even look away this time. Courageous.

  I wave.

  She waves back.

  Well, that’s a first. I wonder if she’s just a scared little geek ready to be pulled into the real world. Maybe I can help her with that.

  Or maybe I shouldn’t.

  What am I even thinking? I don’t want to involve her in my life. No, not like this.

  Her friend pokes her, and they return to talking, so I look away. Then I notice Jaret standing outside the fence with a bunch of guys. I assume it’s the gang, because they all look shady as hell.

  Guess this is it.

  I shake off the excess nerves and walk toward the fence, making sure I’m as inconspicuous as possible.

  “Hey,” I say.

  Jaret leans forward. “You gotta buy the goods off them. You’ll use this in the fight.”

  Shit, guess that means it’ll have to come from my own pocket this time. They want me to buy my own drugs that I’ll have to use later. Assholes.

  Another guy with slick hair and shades leans forward, pulling something out of his pocket for only a short moment, showing me he has a satchel filled with green crap. Probably the pot.

  “Where’s the money?” he asks.

  Sighing, I rummage in my pocket and take it out carefully, making sure nobody sees me doing this. I don’t want to get caught.

  Our exchange is lightning-quick, and the moment the satchel hits the bottom of my pocket I feel nervous. I don’t like walking around with drugs, but I have to do this. I have to earn the gang’s trust.

  “Cool.” The guys turn around and Jaret walks with them after giving me a wave and a thumbs-up.

  My fingers tremble as I reach down into my pocket, feeling the drugs push against my thigh. It’s disgusting, and it makes me sick to my stomach knowing I’ll have to take them. Only now do I realize the full extent of what I’m doing, what I’m getting myself into. This is for real. There is no going back.

  Chapter 8

  Scheming

  I’m pacing up and down in my room, trying to figure out what to do. My brain and heart are locked in a battle between what’s wrong and right, and I don’t know which one is going to win.

  I’ve barely slept at all since I joined the gang. Images of a needle being stuck in my arm while I’m tied to a chair haunt my dreams. The bag of weed lying on my table has never left my thoughts. Every fiber in my body is telling me not to do it, but sheer will is forcing me to continue. I need to save my brother. He will be freed. I cling to this single thought.

  Suddenly my new phone rings with a melody I’m not familiar with yet. I hate new phones. However, this phone call is probably important. I rush to it like it’s the last connection I have with life.

  “Hello?”

  “Come downstairs to the yard. I have the specifics.” It’s Jaret, and he sounds serious.

  “All right. Be right there.”

  I put my phone back into my pocket and hurry downstairs and out of the dorm. Jaret’s standing with the same group of guys we met on my first day on campus. Wes is one of them.

  Straightening my back, I stride toward them.

  “Glad you could make it,” Wes says.

  “I came down as soon as I got the phone call. So, what do you want me to do?” I say with a confident tone.

  “We loaned a guy some money. We want our money back, and since we didn’t get it in time, we want you to send a message.”

  “Okay,” I say, feeling bad already. “Who?”

  “That guy,” Wes says, and he points at a guy with a beanie near the fountain.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You know …” Jaret says, squinting.

  Right. Beat him up. I nod.

  “You want your money back, right?” I say.

  “Yes, but not before you give him a good whooping.”

  “What? You won’t even give him a chance to redeem himself?” I say.

  Wes spits on the ground. “That motherfucker had his chance. You’ll kick his ass, and then take the money. It’s a lesson he has to learn.”

  I frown, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay.”

  “You’ll take the drugs before the fight,” Wes says.

  I raise an eyebrow. “What?”

  “You heard him,” one of the other guys says, but Wes puts his hand firmly on the guy’s chest, showing him who’s in charge.

  “Take the drugs and beat him up.”

  My nostrils flare as I face the decision I have to make. I know I don’t have much time. They won’t take no for an answer.

  “Fine.”

  Wes smiles arrogantly. “Good boy.”

  Fuck. I have so much trouble holding back. I could almost punch him in the face. Fuck him. Fuck them all. Once I find out who the leader is, nobody’s going to stop me from smashing him to a pulp.

  “We’ll check up on you once you’re done, but make sure you find a quiet spot,” Wes says.

  Sure, of course they don’t want anyone to see.

  “Whatever.”

  Wes slaps me on the shoulder with a short laugh. “We’ll check up on you to make sure you took the drugs.” And then he walks off.

  I’m breathing in and out loudly, trying to compose myself. When I turn my head to see if it’s safe to approach the guy I’m supposed to beat up, I see Leafy standing nearby with her friend, watching me.

  My eyes narrow in on her. What is she doing here?

  Her eyes widen, and then I know she realizes I’ve seen her.

  Is she snooping on me? Damnit. I can’t have her involved in this. She should keep her nose out of my business. It’s for the best.

  She and her friend run off immediately. Good. I hope they’re afraid. I hope they won’t even want to come near me. It’s better this way. For now. Although I’m not sure if I can do the same.

  “Good luck, Hunter,” Jaret says, and after a friendly pat on the back he leaves as well.

  I hurry back to the dorm, because that’s where I
left the weed. Once I’m in my room, the reality of it all hits me like a brick straight to the face.

  I swallow away the lump in my throat and glance at the bag of weed. Shit. Now it’s really happening.

  With shaking fingers I close the door, staring at the drugs. I pick up some of the brown paper Jaret left and spread it out on the table. I unpack the weed, take some out and put it on the sheet. Then I roll it into a blunt.

  My fingers drift toward the lighter Jaret left for me. Christ, he thinks of everything. I would’ve forgotten to get one. Guess he’s always prepared.

  I draw in a few sharp breaths, mentally preparing myself. Just looking at that shit makes me sick to my stomach. The thought alone that I’ll have to use that stuff … drugs … the reason behind all my problems and those of my brother … it’s hard to swallow.

  I’ll just have to keep in mind that I’m doing it all for my brother.

  I put the blunt in my mouth and light it. A sweet aroma drifts through the room, entering my nose. Inhaling for the first time makes me cough like crazy. It feels like I’m choking, tears springing into my eyes.

  But then I spot Wes leaning against the doorway.

  Shit. He’s really come to check up on me.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he muses, smiling lazily. “Hold the smoke in for a moment before releasing it.”

  “Fuck …” I mutter, blowing out some smoke. “I’m trying.”

  “C’mon. Take some more.”

  Squinting, I briefly glance at him before taking another drag. Smoke fills my burning lungs and I gasp for air. I can already feel it taking effect.

  My head is feeling lighter and lighter the more drags I take. It’s getting easier to take the hot fumes, although I’m still sure I’m doing it so wrong. But it doesn’t matter as long as I get it done.

  Wes is staring at me from his corner, smiling deviously, like he’s enjoying the fact that he just forced a rookie to smoke pot. I’ll beat that smirk off his face once I get the chance.

  My worries are diminishing, though. When I say I’m going to beat him up, I actually don’t feel angry at all. It feels more like a fun thing to do. To have a laugh about.

  And suddenly the idea of my brother being in jail doesn’t seem to bother me that much anymore. It’s like I’m okay with it. Like he can handle it. Yeah, it’ll be all right. I’ve got nothing to worry about.

  “All right, you’ve had enough,” Wes says, and he takes the blunt from my mouth, takes it to the nearest sink and flushes it down the drain. He cocks his head. “Now get to work. I need to get back to my classes.”

  “Whatever you want, boss,” I say, laughing my ass off.

  I don’t know why I’m laughing, but I don’t care either. It’s all good.

  I’ll go beat up some dude now, no problem. Easy.

  ♥♥♥

  I find the guy standing in a corner of the dorm, reading a book. He seems anxious when I approach, twiddling his thumbs. His eyes skid all around the room, probably looking for an exit. There’s only one, and it’s the back entrance, the one I intend to drag him through. Trees cover the narrow path behind the dorm, partially hiding it. Perfect for random fights.

  “Come with me,” I say with a smug smile, still feeling the effects of the weed.

  I’m overly joyful and don’t have a care in the world, other than being up for a brawling match.

  The guy looks like a wimp, though.

  “What do you want from me?” he says.

  “Come outside. Now,” I say with a smirk.

  “N-no,” he stammers, closing the book.

  I grab his shirt and drag him with me.

  “Hey! Let go!” the guy yells, dropping his book. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “When I said ‘come with me’ I thought I was being fairly clear.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “We’re gonna have a nice little talk,” I say, coughing, because my throat feels unusually dry.

  I can hear him gulp as I drag him past a few other students, whose eyes widen when they see me drag him through a door. Good. They need to know I’m going to beat him. That way word spreads, guaranteed. I want people to know.

  I throw the guy outside and close the door behind us.

  “Do you want money?” he says, plucking at his trousers.

  “I don’t want your money. Do you see me? I’m happy,” I say with a big-ass smile. “But others do want your money.”

  “Oh no …”

  “Oh yes,” I say. “I’m here to send a message.”

  “I just wanted to have some fun. Please, don’t hurt me. I promise I’ll give back the money. I can give it to you now. I know it’s too late, but I have it. Please don’t kill me.”

  I burst out into laughter. Is this guy serious?

  “Of course I’m not going to kill you.” I step closer, and he takes a step back, shivering. I back him into a corner. “Listen up. The gang wants me to beat the crap out of you.”

  “Please don’t.”

  “Just shut up for a second, will you?”

  He whimpers.

  “I’m not exactly in the mood to start beating up random people that I don’t even know. I don’t have anything against you, you know.”

  He nods vigorously.

  “I just want to make them believe that I did.”

  His lips quiver. “Okay.”

  “Besides, I’m too stoned to care.” I put up a smug smile, and he relaxes a little. “So what do you say we just pretend?” I say.

  “What?”

  “Do I speak Chinese or something?”

  “N-no, no.” He shakes his head, and to me it looks like one of those bobbleheads you put on the dashboard of your car. Crazily funny right now. Everything is funny right now.

  “Look, just give me the money, and we’ll fake our way through this, all right?”

  “Okay,” he says, fishing out some cash from his pockets.

  I snatch it from him. “Good, now listen up. I’m going to have to hit you so it’ll look realistic. After that, you hit me. Hard. Like, give me a real bruise. You got that?”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes, just do as I say! Do you want to get out of this or not?”

  He nods so quickly it makes my head spin.

  “You ready?” I say.

  “What, now?”

  Before he has time to prepare, I hit him against the shoulder. He screams in pain like the little girl he is. I have to hold my hand in front of my mouth to stop the laughter from spilling out. It’s too funny to watch him squirm, but nobody can know that we’re faking it. This has to look and sound real, so no laughing.

  And then I hit him again in the face. He winces and groans, tumbling back on his feet, catching himself on the wall.

  “That hurts!” he says.

  “Duh, of course it does.”

  “Do I have a black eye now?” He blinks a couple of times.

  “Probably. Now grunt a few times.”

  He frowns in confusion, making me sigh. “Just do it.”

  His groans sound almost like he’s taking a shit outside, but it’s good enough to pass.

  “Now hit me,” I say, pointing at my face. “Right there.”

  “Okay … here I come.”

  He throws a quick jab at my eye, and I’m impressed by the punch he manages to land. Fuck, it hurts. I did not expect this dude to be able to hit me that hard.

  “Damn …” I mutter, closing my eye, because it feels bruised and broken.

  “Sorry.”

  “I’m not. Stop acting like a wimp. Man up.”

  I start making some weird-ass grunts, trying to sound as realistic as possible, but it’s hard while being under the influence. But shit, I’ve never felt like this before. Being high certainly makes life feel a lot easier.

  When I’m done faking, I say, “Right, now you’ll have to disappear for a few days.”

  “What?”

  “D
o not under any circumstances come back to campus. You got that?” I say, poking his chest with my finger. “Stay away.”

  “If you say so …”

  “You’ll be in danger if you do. Just lay low for a while.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll manage. I have to stay here, but I’m good at pretending. Don’t worry about it. I can fool the gang.”

  “Okay … Thank you,” he says, sighing with relief. “I owe you.”

  “No, you don’t. Just don’t ever buy or take anything from Alpha Psi again. You understand?”

  As he nods, I say, “Now get out of here.”

  I shoo him away with my angry eyes, although I’m not even really angry. Pain is buzzing underneath my skin, and when I touch my eye, I know it’s going to be black. Guess I’ll have to start wearing more hoodies from now on.

  I’m also hungry as fuck.

  Whatever. I can’t stop smiling. God, I am so damn smart.

  Chapter 9

  Darkness

  The next day …

  My face has been aching more and more. Icepacks don’t really help anymore, and since the effects of the drug wore off within an hour my head has been pounding badly. My mood has darkened quite a bit, realizing what I did yesterday.

  God, I am so fucking stupid.

  How could I just let that dude get away with only two hits? I was so fucking nice to him. Am I crazy?

  I can’t believe I actually thought this would work. Dammit. Now I’ve got even more to worry about than before. Drugged up me thinks it’s funny to mess with the gang, pretend everything’s okay. I just hope they won’t find out.

  Jaret’s been laughing at me from the time he came home until now. Every time he looks at my face, he holds back a laugh, and I’m throwing stuff at him because it’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. My face is all purple and bruised, and my eyes are dry and red. I look fucked up.

  And he thinks it’s funny.

  Well, at least he believes my lie. I’m glad I didn’t tell him anything about what I really did with that guy yesterday. I’m not sure he’d be able to keep it between us. He has a much stronger connection to the gang than I have, and I just can’t risk getting exposed.