Vindictive: High School Bully Romance (Kennedy Acadmey Book 2)

by Mae Doyle

  What the fuck is going on with me.

  “Oh, that reminds me.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a handful of cash. “Will this cover tutoring?”

  Her eyes widen and she carefully takes it from me, making sure that our fingers don’t touch. “Yeah, this is enough for the month.” She slides it into her backpack.

  “It’s for today.”

  “Bullshit. That was a couple hundred dollars.”

  I shrug, enjoying feeling like I’m in control without having to hurt her. “Yeah, but I know that you have big plans after graduation, so I thought that I would help you out with them.”

  At first, I’m not sure that she believes me. Hell, she has every reason to think that I’m lying to her. “Okay,” she finally says. “Shall we get to the tutoring?”

  I lead her into the classroom and sit down at a desk, waiting for her to see what else I’ve done.

  It’s not that I felt bad about breaking her violin. I loved knowing that I could draw so much emotion from her. Seeing her weep and knowing that her tears were because of me? That’s power.

  But then learning a bit about Ted? Fuck that guy.

  Elle puts her books down on a desk next to mine and slides in the seat before she sees the violin case resting on the table. “Someone forgot their instrument.” I can see the longing in her eyes.

  “Why don’t you play it?” I’ve wanted to hear her play since the other night. I want to see her cry her way through another piece.

  For a moment, I think that she’s going to go get it, but then she shakes her head. “It’s not mine. It just wouldn’t be right.”

  Ignoring her, I stand up and grab the case, bringing it back to her and putting it down on her desk. Before yesterday, I’d never been in a music store. I had no idea which violin to choose, or how to know if it was a good one.

  The owner tried to talk to me about the scroll and bridge, but I didn’t care. I wanted a nice one, the nicest one they had, and I bought it.

  “Open it.” She looks up at me, confusion splashed on her face. “Open it and play it.”

  “It’s not mine.” Obstinately, she crosses her arms on her chest. “Someone left it here and I’m not going to touch it.”

  “Elle, are you that fucking dense?” She rolls her eyes at me but doesn’t move. I snap the locks open on the case and lift the lid, watching her face as I do. Fuck, her eyes grow wide as soon as she sees it. Maybe it is a good one.

  “Have you ever seen such a beautiful violin?” I can tell that she can’t help herself when she reaches out and gently trails her fingers along the neck, plucking the strings just a little, but then she drops her hands back down into her lap. “You should put it away. It’s way too expensive to be left out like this.”

  Good. “It’s yours.”

  She laughs, a dull sound that makes me shiver. “In case you forgot, Clay, you broke mine. You landed on it and smashed it into splinters. So, that is definitely not mine. Besides, it’s probably worth more than our mortgage each month.”

  “Yeah, I know. I bought it.”

  “You what? You have got to be kidding me.” She reaches back out and runs her finger along the violin, tracing its curve.

  I have a sudden urge to pull her to me and trace her curves in the exact same way. She’s touching it like she loves it, like she wants to make love to it. It’s addicting.

  “You just trying to make me forget that you destroyed my violin the other night?” She turns and looks at me, a scowl on her face. “Because just so you know, I remember. And I still hate you for it. This doesn’t make it better, okay?”

  “But it’s a start.” I don’t ask her. I tell her. I know that as much as she hates me, this helps soothe her. I can see it in the way she looks at the instrument and in how she gently touches it.

  “I never said that.”

  Chapter 14

  Elle

  My insides are all twisted up like the last time I rode a roller coaster. It was with my dad, so I must have been really little, and as badly as I wanted to get on the ride, as soon as we were on it, I regretted everything.

  I wanted to get off. I begged him to stop the ride, but he couldn’t. We had to finish the whole thing, him holding my shoulders as I sobbed into his arm. That was the first time that I realized that my dad can’t fix everything in life.

  Now, I can’t help but wonder what he would do if he were here.

  Hell, that’s useless. If he were here and not dead, then we wouldn’t have moved. I wouldn’t have ever met Clay. Mom wouldn’t have met Ted. Everything would be so much better.

  When I tell Clay that him buying me this gorgeous violin doesn’t make me hate him less, I mean it. The wood of the instrument is cool under my finger as I trace its lines, and I have to force myself to shut the lid and lock the case.

  I used to play the violin, but after the other night, I don’t know that I ever want to again.

  “You know that you deserve it. First chair.” Clay looks intently at me, but I can’t hold his gaze. There’s a stack of books on his desk, and I point at them, wanting to get his attention off of me.

  “We should study.” That’s what we came here to do, and that’s what I want to do. I know how to study. I can reduce our interactions to being centered around diagramming sentences and writing persuasive essays.

  I know what to do when there are clear rules to follow, but Clay throws all of those rules out of the window. I hate him for it.

  “No. I don’t need to study, Elle. Do you think that I’m that stupid?” He leans back in his chair, tipping it so that the front feet come up from the floor. I have a sudden violent desire to kick the legs out from under him and watch him topple backwards.

  “You’re stupid if you think that I’m going to ever let you get close to me. I think that you’re stupid for paying me a wad of cash for nothing. And, yeah, I think that you’re stupid for breaking my violin and thinking that buying me a new one will make me not hate you.”

  Without thinking, I walk over and shove his stack of books onto the floor. They slam and scatter, stray bits of paper sliding out and slipping on the slick surface.

  “Feel better? When I’m really pissed, I like to go out to the football field and hit something. You ever hit someone, Elle?”

  He stands up and towers over me. Immediately, I feel like I’ve made a mistake, but I don’t want to back down now. I don’t want him to see me stutter.

  “No.” I’ve wanted to hit someone, mostly Ted. Over and over I’ve imagined punching him in the face, my fist making his skin slide around as he gasps for air. I’ve thought about what it would be like to feel his nose crunch under the impact and watch blood pour onto the ground.

  But I’ve never followed through. I know that if I did, he’d kill me.

  “Hit me.” Clay is closer now. I didn’t notice him stepping closer, but he’s well within range for me to hit. My heart beats faster and I hear blood start to pump in my ears. It’s so tempting.

  But what will he do to me if I actually hit him? I imagine him pinning me on the ground but this time not taking no for an answer. I imagine him touching me the way that Ted…

  No. I can’t go there.

  “I won’t.” Before I can turn away, though, Clay’s reached out and grabbed my arm. He pulls me back so that I’m pressed up against him.

  Oh, shit, he smells good up close. I can smell the same cologne that I smell on his t-shirts all the time. I want to breathe him in, but I don’t want him to know that’s what I’m doing.

  What the fuck is wrong with me?

  “Punch me, Elle. I want you to hit me as hard as you can. I know that you have it in you. I know that you hate someone, even if it’s not me. I broke your violin, Elle. I pulled your shirt down and forced myself between your legs. Don’t you want to make me suffer for that? Or are you too much of a pussy?”

  I do. I want to make him cry out as I beat him to a pulp. Without knowing what I’m doing, I step back and raise my fist. H
is eyes are locked on mine, his breathing shallow.

  My heart is beating so loudly that I can hear it drumming in my ears. I’ve never felt this exhilarated before, or this scared. My mouth runs dry and I try to swallow.

  “You’ll kill me.”

  “Punch me. I’ve treated you like shit. Make me pay for the violin.” He pauses and I almost drop my fist. The magic is gone between us. There’s no reason for me to hit him. “Pretend that I’m Ted.”

  Is he baiting me? I don’t know, but right now I don’t care. I swear, I see red, which is something that I thought only happened in books. Before I know what I’m doing, I’ve pulled my arm back and punched him as hard as I can in the stomach.

  It’s like hitting a brick wall. He doesn’t even move, so I pull back and punch him again before balling my left hand up into a fist. No matter how many times I hit him, Clay doesn’t shift his feet and he doesn’t try to stop me.

  I’m punching harder now, barely breathing between hits, my sight blurry with tears. I want to hurt him. I want to bring him to his knees and make him apologize, but I can’t seem to do it, no matter how many times I hit him.

  Then it strikes me.

  Clay knew this all along, and he was right.

  I don’t want to hit Clay. I want to hit Ted.

  I sob, a loud cry that rips through my body from my toes and I pitch forward into him. Immediately, he reaches for me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to the same strong body that I was just beating on.

  “Elle, Elle, you’re okay, kitten.” I’ve never heard his voice be this calm, this compassionate, and it makes me cry harder. I’m sure that I’m soaking his shirt with my tears, but he doesn’t seem to care.

  “No, I’m not,” I finally manage, choking the words out. “I’m not okay, Clay.” Then, without really thinking about what I’m doing, I reach up and wrap my arms around him. He’s more solid and much stronger than I would have ever thought, and my arms fit perfectly around his waist.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Why the fuck am I hugging Clay Bryson?

  Maybe because he finally pushed me to the point of breaking. Maybe I was closer to the edge than I ever realized, and Clay was the person to trip me and sending me falling, head over heels, with no end in sight.

  Or maybe, just maybe, he’s the only person who has seen me in a long time. He broke me down but he saw what he was doing. He sees that there’s an end for me and he wants to help me.

  I can’t believe that it’s the second.

  There is no way in hell that Clay Bryson has a soul.

  I lean back to look at him, but he doesn’t let me pull away. Instead, he drops his head down and presses his lips to mine. I can taste my tears when he kisses me, but I don’t want to stop. I want to fall into his kisses and finally find a place to rest.

  It’s crazy.

  Clay might be the only person who can save me.

  Clay

  I knew that Elle was going to break, but I didn’t know how much she would shatter when all of her pieces fell apart. She was hitting me with all of her might, pouring rage that she didn’t know she had into the effort, when she finally came apart.

  I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around her. I’ve wanted to torture her since the day I saw her, but now I see something completely different.

  There’s another chance for me to do the right thing, and I want to take it. I don’t want to be the person who kills another girl. I already took Tiffany, and as much as I hated Elle, she needs something else from me.

  She needs me to do for her what I couldn’t do for Tiffany.

  Elle Suttles needs me to save her.

  My mouth finds hers and she eagerly kisses me back, running her hands up my sides and then catching them in my hair. Sliding my hands down, I find her ass and I pick her up, making her wrap her legs around me.

  “What are you doing?” She pulls back long enough to ask the question, but she doesn’t take her hands from my hair. I can feel her thighs squeezing me tight as I walk her to the back of the room.

  “Showing you something.” Gently I put her down on the back table then slide my hands down her sides. She’s all curves and soft, everything smooth and sweet. As much as I want to protect her, I still want to tear into her.

  I can’t help myself. Squeezing her sides, I push her back from me, digging my fingers and thumbs into her skin. She cries out and tries to pull away, but I hold her in place so I can look at her.

  Without warning, I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it up, pulling it roughly over her head.

  “Clay, no,” she gasps out my name, but I ignore her. This little kitten has teased me for far too long and I can’t wait any longer. She haunts every waking moment that I have, and I see her in my dreams. If I don’t claim her for my own and ruin her so that nobody else will touch her then I won’t be able to stand myself.

  Grabbing the lace of her bra, I yank it down, feeling the hooks in the back give way. Elle pushes me away, her hands flat on my shoulders, but I grab her wrists and twist them back and over her head so I can pin her there.

  “What’s wrong with you? You need to stop!” She’s not yelling and I know that she won’t draw attention to us, as much as she may want to.

  “You don’t want me to stop. I can’t, Elle. You’re mine, little kitten, and I’m going to show you that.” Her wrists are small and fragile and I can easily hold both in one hand.

  “Please, Clay, you don’t want to do this.” Elle twists away from me as I run a finger down her chest and lightly pinch her nipple.

  “Fuck, yeah, I do, Elle.” Without warning her, I pull her closer and suck her tit, enjoying the way her nipple hardens in my mouth. She may not think that she wants this, but I know better than her.

  I have since the day I met her.

  “Clay, please,” she moans, trying to pull back. In response, I grab her hip with my free hand, digging in my nails and pinning her in place. She’s mine now, and I’m going to take what I want from her.

  I’m going to coax her to the edge and maybe let her crash over it, but only if she’s good. Nipping at her neck, I kiss her, enjoying how she allows her tongue to skate across mine. She moans again, this time into my mouth, and I feel my hard cock throbbing against my pants.

  “Don’t move.” I should have known better than to think that she would try to run when I released her hands. She panting hard, her eyes locked on mine. Narrowed pupils, flushed chest…my little kitten is done running and wants the same thing that I do.

  Stepping back from her a moment, I yank my shirt off and toss it on the floor, then step out of my jeans and boxers, moaning when my cock is finally freed. Elle’s eyes go wide and I watch as she reaches for me but then she pulls back.

  “Come on, Elle,” I tell her, stepping closer to her. “You know what you want to do.” She reaches out for me, the tip of her tongue barely visible between her lips.

  “There’s no way that it will fit.” She glances up at me from looking at my cock, and I groan. I need to see her slender little hands wrapped around my dick. I want to know what it looks like to fuck deep into her mouth.

  I want to do right by my kitten, but first she’s going to have to prove that she’s willing to play the game.

  “Suck my cock, Elle. Get down here, off that counter, and onto your knees. I want to see you worship me and beg me not to hurt you.”

  Fear flashes across her face, but she slides off of the counter, her eyes locked on mine. Before she can kneel in front of me, I grab her by the hips and undo her jeans. “Take them off.”

  She shivers, but she does what I tell her to. Once her clothes are in a puddle on the floor, I turn my finger in a circle in the air. “Let me see what I get to play with, kitten.”

  This time, Elle hesitates a moment, biting her lower lip, but finally she turns, allowing me to look at her. All of her. Fucking hell, she’s absolutely perfect. I’m going to tear her open and soak her with my come.

  “Your kn
ees, Elle. Get down there and show me what you think about my cock.” She slowly kneels, looking up at me the whole time, then reaches out for me. I gasp when she wraps her hands around my cock and I have to fight from thrusting forward.

  I knew that she would feel good. This may be even better than destroying her.

  She leans forward and licks me, her soft tongue sliding up and down my shaft. “I don’t think that you’ll fit,” she says, glancing back up at me.

  “You better pray that I do.” She nods and leans down, opening her mouth and slowly licking and kissing my tip.

  It feels incredible. I grab the counter for support while my little kitten sucks and swirls her tongue around my head. I could easily come in her like this, but that’s not what I want. I have to make sure that she knows she’s mine.

  “Get up.” My voice is throaty and full of gravel, and at first, she doesn’t respond. Reaching down, I grab her by the ponytail and yank her up to a standing position. She’s breathing hard, her chest bouncing up and down and I reach out to squeeze her tit.

  “You’re mine, kitten. Are you ready?” I trail my fingers up her inner thigh, reaching for her. She doesn’t answer, but I don’t need her to. I can tell that she’s already ready. She’s dripping wet for me and she trembles as I cup her mound.

  “On the floor, kitten. Let’s see how well you fuck.”

  Chapter 15

  Elle

  I shouldn’t be here, doing this with Clay, but it’s like one part of my brain has completely switched off. His cock is huge and I wanted to suck and play with it, but when he pulled me up by my ponytail, I had no choice but to stand.

  Now, I have to make a decision.

  Do I stay?

  I could run.

  The thought crosses my mind and it must cross my face, because I see Clay’s eyes darken. He glances towards the door, which is shut, and then slowly shakes his head at me.