Vindictive: A High School Bully Romance

by Mae Doyle

  “What the hell do you guys want?” Adrenaline is coursing through my body and I bounce up on my toes to keep warm. The guys stop at a distance but are close enough that they could easily grab me if they wanted to. The last time that I was faced with Teague like this, Clay pulled my shirt open so that he could see my tits.

  I shiver at the memory and wrap my arms tighter around myself.

  At any moment, someone could leave the building and come for their car, but nobody’s coming. That would be too lucky for me.

  “We’re just out here to make sure that Clay’s kitten doesn’t run.” Teague again, and he spreads his arms out and gestures around the parking lot. “Although, you don’t have a car, do you, Elle? So I have no idea where you think that you would try to go.”

  “Don’t call me that.” I hate my nickname from Clay, but hearing it from Teague’s mouth is even worse.

  “What, ‘kitten’?” He laughs and takes a few more steps to me. I tense, my entire body ready to run if he comes much closer. “But that’s what you are, isn’t it? A scared little kitten that Clay found?”

  “Like a cat playing with a dying animal.” Brett steps forward. The moonlight hits his face from the side and I can see all of his features in sharp relief. He looks like a wolf.

  Hungry. Feral.

  “And Clay wanted you to keep an eye on me, did he? Well, you can just tell him that you watched me leave and that it was no big deal.” Keeping one eye on Teague, I start walking away from the three of them, but Brett and Robby close rank in front of me, pinning me in again.

  “Not a chance, kitten. You need to come with us.” Teague gestures behind him at the school and I shake my head.

  “No way, asshole. Let me go.”

  He sighs and runs his hand through his hair like he’s bored. “You know what? Fine.”

  Before I realize what he’s doing, he runs at me, ducking down so that his shoulder is level with my stomach. The impact knocks all of the air out of me but before I can stop him, he sweeps me up so that I’m hanging over his shoulder.

  Immediately I start to kick and hit him, but he shushes me.

  “Listen, kitten. We either take you to Clay or we let you run, but one way or another, he’s going to find you. Believe me, he’d love to track you down, but I don’t think that you’d like what would happen when he finally found you. Now, he’s waiting for you inside, so let’s go see what he wants and see how we can fix this, okay?”

  No. No, no, no. I don’t want to go see Clay. I don’t want to do anything but run.

  He said that he’d kill me, and while right now that option is looking pretty damn good, I’m still terrified.

  Clay

  Of course, the little kitten would win. I had to go back into the ceremony but I sent my boys out to look for her. She’s fast, my Elle, but not fast enough.

  She doesn’t know the school as well as we do, and she doesn’t know how quickly we can move. Teague will bring her back to me, I’m sure of that.

  The door opens at the back of the auditorium right after I accepted my award for quarterback and am walking back to my table. It’s Teague, and he’s holding Elle by the arm so that she can’t move.

  Dammit. I told him not to hurt her. Not to touch her.

  I’m the only one allowed to touch my kitten.

  Changing direction, I make a beeline to the back of the auditorium instead of sitting down and reach them in a matter of seconds. Elle looks exhausted and has tear tracks down her cheeks, but she doesn’t seem to be hurt. She glances at me once then rips her eyes from my face, scowling off in the direction of the stage.

  Teague looks pissed. He pushes her towards me and leans forward to whisper. “You’ve got a feisty little kitten here, Clay.”

  I fucking know that. Grabbing her by the arm, I drag her out of the auditorium and outside, heading for the parking lot.

  She stumbles, but I don’t wait. I just yank on her arm to pull her back to her feet and keep her going. Each time she slows down, I dig my fingers harder into her arm.

  “Stop!” She finally yanks back against me. “Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? I hate you! I fucking hate you, Clay Bryson, and I wish that you would just leave me alone!”

  I whirl around to face her. Her bright eyes are dark. There’s a glint of moonlight off of them but it’s hard for me to read the expression on her face.

  “You hate me? Are you serious right now?” I’m in her face, so close that I can feel her breath. “And how the fuck do you think that I feel about you and your perky little self coming into my school? You’re a fucking phantom, Elle, and I hate that you’re here. I hate you and everything about you.”

  I think that she’s going to argue, but instead she yanks her arm free from me and slaps me. Again. The bitch really wants to die. My cheek stings, but it doesn’t hurt as much as I’m sure she’d like it to. If anything, it makes me feel more alive.

  “You’ve treated me like shit since the moment I came here.” Elle takes a step forward and stabs her finger into my chest, making me flinch and step back. “And now I want out. I want to get out of here but I can’t because of my piece of shit stepdad, do you understand?”

  Reaching out, I grab her finger and twist it to the side so hard that she cries out. “Don’t you need this finger for playing violin, kitten? Do you really think that you should go around stabbing it in places where you might lose it? Doesn’t seem very smart to me.”

  “Fuck you.” She spits at me and I grab her by the neck. Her skin is smooth and soft under my hand and I squeeze, just a little. Just to hear her squeak.

  “You asked for it, Elle. I told you not to make promises that you didn’t want to keep, but that’s exactly what you keep doing. Now, tell me something...” I rip her shirt open, the buttons popping off and landing with a clatter on the pavement. “…are you as excited as I am about me being the one to pop your cherry?”

  “No!” She struggles hard against me, but I reach out and yank her bra down. Her tits are fully out now but still she fights me, her body twisting as she tries to pull away. Sweeping her leg, I push her down to the ground so that she’s flat on her back.

  The pavement is freezing and she cries out, but she doesn’t stop fighting me, digging her nails into my arms as I pin her down.

  “This is it, Elle. Tell me one good reason why I shouldn’t bury myself balls deep in you right now. Tell me why I shouldn’t claim you for my own and then ruin you for anyone else in the future.”

  My cock throbs in my pants and I lean into her, pressing it into her side. She turns her head away from me, moaning. She’s sobbing now, huge gulping noises that I think should make me feel bad for her, but don’t.

  I don’t want to feel bad for her. I just want to take her for my own and make her see that this is what she gets.

  This is what she deserves for looking just like Tiffany.

  “Nothing? You don’t have any reason why I shouldn’t fuck you right here? You don’t want to ask for a nice bed? Romance? Beg me to stop? Nothing? I’m disappointed in you, little kitten. I really thought that you had a little more fight in you than this.”

  “Please don’t,” she finally begs, but I’ve made up my mind. I undo her pants and yank them down, taking her underwear with her. Her skin is pale in the moonlight and she has goosebumps from the chill.

  Slowly I drag my fingers along her smooth thighs. My head is pounding with how heady she is and how badly I want her.

  “Do you want this, Elle? Do you want to know what it’s like to be Tiffany, not just look like her? Because I can fuck you like her and then I can kill you, just like I killed her.”

  Fuck. I did not mean to say that, and I hope that she didn’t hear me, but she turns and looks right at me.

  “You killed her?” Her face is contorted with fear. “You fucking killed your girlfriend?” Panic surges through her and she bucks up, trying to force me off of her, but I pin her back down to the ground. Bits of gravel bite into my
knees through my pants as I force her down on her back.

  “Well, killed is a bit of a misnomer, Elle. It was an accident, but yeah, I’m the reason my precious Tiffany is dead. Then you come in here looking just like her. She should be alive, not you.” It feels both terrifying and exhilarating to tell Elle the truth. Tiffany should be alive, but she’s not, because of me. Then Elle comes waltzing into my life like she owns it.

  It’s not fair.

  I squeeze her inner thigh so hard that she cries out, then slide slowly down her body, forcing her legs apart with my hands. Elle tries to clamp them shut, but I’m stronger.

  I’m better than her in every way and she’s finally learning it.

  “Clay, it’s not your fault.” Her voice sounds desperate, but I stop for a moment to listen. “You didn’t know. You wouldn’t have hurt her on purpose, Clay, and now you don’t have to do this. Please, make the right choice.”

  She’s clawing at my hands, leaving long red marks across the back of them, but she’s no match for me.

  “I stopped making the right choice years ago, little kitten. And, no, I wouldn’t have hurt her on purpose, but I did. Everyone I love gets hurt.” I can practically feel the heat radiating from her mound and I reach between her legs to cup it. She squirms and moans away from me, but I’m too strong.

  That moan. That damned moan is enough to drive me crazy. Elle squirms under me, but she and I know each other. Our bodies are drawn to each other, and I can tell the truth, even though she doesn’t want to admit it.

  Elle Suttles wants me as badly as I want to destroy her. I just don’t know how the two of us can co-exist when we both want such different things.

  “Don’t, Clay,” she begs, reaching for me. Her nails dig into my shoulders and arms as I trail a line of kisses down her stomach. Her skin is covered in goose bumps thanks to the cool air. Running my hands over her thighs and then spreading them, I can smell her.

  “You really want me to stop?” I hesitate just a moment, waiting on her to answer. She can’t, and I know that it’s because she wants this. Just as badly as I do, she wants this.

  Elle is just as fucked up as I am. It’s delicious.

  “You’re just so perfect, Elle, did anyone ever tell you that? Makes me want to destroy you.” The truth is out now, and it hangs heavy between us. She’s stopped fighting now, but she does have her hand twisted in my hair.

  “Please, don’t. Ted. Please.” Elle sounds so sad, but that’s not what gets my attention.

  I’ve worked my way down to her thighs and am kissing her smooth skin. She smells amazing and I want to get closer. I need to taste her, but I stop and sit up.

  “What did you call me?” The moonlight is shining right on her face and I can see that she’s silently crying. Tears run down her cheeks and sides of her face, and she turns her head away from me.

  When she doesn’t answer, I sit up and grab her by the shoulders, yanking her off of the ground. Elle doesn’t try to fight back. Her arms hang loosely at her sides and she refuses to look at me.

  “Elle. What the fuck did you just call me?” I know what I heard, but I need to make sure that I was right. I have to make sure that I heard her correctly before I freak out.

  Right when she was begging me not to taste her, right when she wanted to stop me from taking her for my own in the middle of the parking lot, I swear that she called me Ted.

  Chapter 13

  Elle

  I’m still not quite used to my bed in my new room, so waking up and feeling a little disoriented is nothing new. Yawning, I stretch my arms over my head and reach for the wall, but when I grab a metal headboard, I sit up.

  My heart pounds and my mouth goes dry as I look around the room. This isn’t my home. My mattress is still on the floor, and even if it wasn’t, Ted wouldn’t spring for a good headboard for me.

  My body is screaming at me to run, but I have to make sure that I know where I am, first. Slowly, I peel the covers back from my body, swinging my legs out over the edge of the bed. I’m wearing a giant t-shirt that smells vaguely familiar.

  Clay.

  It smells like Clay.

  The realization that I’m in Clay’s bedroom hits me out of nowhere and I have the sudden urge to throw up. There’s an open door in front of me and I run for it, pulling my hair back as I hunch over the toilet. Retching hard, I try to throw up everything that happened last night.

  I can’t be here.

  Turning on the light, I finally get a look of myself in the mirror and I look like hell. My hair is sticking up at all angles and there’s small cuts on my cheeks from gravel. Clay has a toothbrush and toothpaste, but the last thing I want to do is put anything in my mouth that was in his.

  After a fast finger brushing, I tug the bottom of the shirt down farther on my thighs and walk back to sit on the edge of the bed.

  Clay obviously brought me here last night, but why? I remember him telling Ted that he was going to drive me home, and Ted was pissed about it…

  Ted.

  Oh, shit. I told Clay the truth about Ted.

  I want to throw up again, but there’s nothing in my stomach, so instead I bend over, clutching my stomach and moaning. Okay, I’ve got to pull it together. I didn’t want anyone to know the truth about Ted, and then I had to go and spill the beans to my worst enemy.

  Clay now knows something terrible about me, but he told me something equally as awful last night about him. Now I just need to find out where exactly he is.

  At that exact moment, there’s a loud banging from outside the bedroom door. I hop out of bed and wrap a blanket around me, wanting to cover as much skin as possible. The last thing I want to do is go out there half naked. Not after he almost…

  But he stopped. I have to remind myself that he stopped, even if he didn’t want to. Even though, honestly, I wanted him to. I wanted him to take me and push away the memory of Ted, but then at the last second, I couldn’t do it.

  That’s a good thing, right? That he stopped?

  My hand on the doorknob, I hesitate before opening it slowly. As soon as the door is cracked I can smell the coffee and the eggs, and I take a cautious step out of the bedroom. Clay’s in the kitchen, his back to me, working at the stove. I watch him for a moment, amazed at what I’m seeing, before calling his name.

  “Clay?” I wanted my voice to sound strong, but I sound terrified.

  He turns around, a spatula held in his hand, and smiles when he sees me. It’s the first time that he’s smiled at me like that since we met, and it’s disarming. Then his eyes rake slowly over my body and the smile fades.

  “Elle. Are you hungry?”

  My stomach answers for me and I walk to the counter to pull up a stool while Clay makes me a plate and pours me a cup of coffee. The mug is huge and heavy and I have to use both hands to hold it so that I don’t accidentally drop it.

  “Why are you doing this?” After the first sip of coffee, I feel a little braver than normal.

  “Doing what?” He makes himself a plate and sits down next to me. I watch, half in horror, half in fascination, as he takes a big bite of bacon and washes it down with coffee.

  He’s acting like all of this is normal. He’s acting like we’re not already late to school, like he didn’t attack me in the parking lot last night, like he didn’t destroy my violin.

  My violin. I grip my fork tightly and stab a bite of egg.

  “This. Feeding me. Acting like you care. I know that you don’t give a flying fuck about me, Clay, you’ve made that totally clear. So why are you putting on the act now? It’s bullshit.” The coffee is hot and burns my throat, but I don’t care. I’m too angry to really care and I don’t want him to think that I’m weak.

  He takes a few more bites before wiping his mouth and turning to look at me. Holy shit, when I’m not being crushed under his weight in the parking lot or hating him for destroying my violin, he’s really hot. It’s not fair. Clay sighs and takes a sip of coffee.

  “Li
sten, kitten, I told you that I hate you, and I do. But I also told you that I was the only one allowed to destroy you. I didn’t know about Ted. I mean, your stepdad? That’s fucked up, even for me.”

  “So, you’re okay with killing your girlfriend and torturing the new girl, but a little assault between family members crosses the line?” I know that I’m treading on thin ice, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t care about Clay or what he can do to me. I almost want him to do something to me, just so I can hate him even more.

  I don’t like the way he’s looking at me, like he has some compassion for me. It’s bullshit, and he and I both know it.

  Clay gets up and refills both of our mugs before sitting back down. “I would never have harmed Tiffany on purpose. That was a stupid fucking accident, and don’t you dare think that I don’t beat myself up every single day of my life for it.”

  I can see that it’s taking a ton of self-control for him not to lash out at me right now. His fingers are tight around his mug and he’s taking deep breaths.

  Good. Let him feel what it’s like to actually have to control yourself and your emotions for once.

  “Fine. So, you fucked up and killed your girlfriend. But how are you not in jail?” He should be in jail. If he were, then I wouldn’t have any problems at Kennedy Academy. I could have disappeared into the crowd and then disappeared after graduation, just like I wanted to.

  At first, I don’t think that he’s going to answer my question, and I think that maybe I shouldn’t have pushed him so far. Was it out of line to ask? Then I remember all the ways he’s violated me, and I don’t care. He can enjoy a taste of his own medicine for once.

  “Because it was a stupid accident and my dad’s the main county judge.” His eyes are locked on mine, almost like he’s daring me to laugh. He and I both know that it’s bullshit.

  Anyone else would be in jail.

  “You’re fucking kidding me. Daddy got you out of jail? So, you must really be the golden child, huh? That why you have your own suite? Or does Bethany have one, too?” I’m gripping my fork so tightly that the metal cuts into my hand, but I don’t want to put it down.