Start a Fire: A Dark High School Bully Romance (The Savage Crew Book 1)

by Julia Wolf

  The sound of waves crashing mixed with pop-funk beats, luring me down the steps faster, excitement stirring in my belly.

  I sucked in the salty air, no chance of holding back a grin. “God, I missed the beach.”

  “Is this your first time here since you got back?” Bex asked.

  “Yeah. Between moving in and starting school, I haven’t had any time.”

  “You might’ve guessed I’m not exactly into laying on the beach to perfect my tan, but I could probably use some Vitamin D. We should come during the day.”

  “And frolic?”

  She grinned back at me. “Hell yes. I’m all about the frolicking.”

  A cooler filled with cheap beer was our first stop. Bex took one, telling me that was all she’d have so she could drive us home when we were ready.

  We found Cassie and a few of the WAGs and their boyfriends near the fire. I recognized most of them from school, but a lot of faces were unfamiliar.

  “Who are these kids?” I asked anyone willing to answer.

  A tall boy with black-framed glasses sidled up to me, his white teeth gleaming. “The real question is who are you?”

  “I’m Grace.” I tilted my beer in his direction. “You?”

  “Elijah.” He tapped his beer to mine. “I haven’t seen you before. Did you fall from the sky with a broken wing?”

  “You’ve got me. I’m a vulture shapeshifter, but I can’t shift back, because, you know, broken wing.” I stuck out my bottom lip in a pout.

  Elijah liked that, grinning even wider. “Alert, we have a weirdo here.”

  I elbowed Bex. “See? Told you I didn’t hide my weird.”

  She elbowed me back. “And I told you guys didn’t mind weird when your legs are nine feet long.”

  “They’ve grown three feet since we last spoke,” I deadpanned.

  “Nine is the new six, didn’t you know?” she volleyed back.

  Elijah pointed between us. “Fuck yes. A comedy duo. Tell me you go to Marshall and I’ve just missed you until now.”

  I sighed. “Sorry, we’re Savage River peeps.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I make it my policy to keep hookups within the county lines.”

  I snapped my fingers back. “Darn. I was just about to pull up my skirt and beg you to sully me.”

  Elijah adjusted his glasses. “Hey now, rules are meant to be broken.”

  Bex rounded on me. “Damn. How did you get so good at this?”

  One shoulder lifted. “It’s easy to flirt when I’m not interested.”

  Elijah waved a hand. “Hello, I’m right here.”

  I laid a hand on his arm. “Sorry, but we both knew this wasn’t going anywhere.”

  He kicked the sand. “You could pretend to be heartbroken.”

  Bex threw her hands up. “That’s it. I give up on you. I’m going to find people with less charm.” She wandered off, leaving me alone with Elijah. Although we weren’t really alone, since there were people dotting the perimeter of the fire.

  “She’s cute,” he remarked, watching Bex join up with Cassie.

  “Right? So cute,” I agreed.

  His head jerked in the direction of the stairs where a few guys were descending. Elijah called out, “Yoooo!” waving his hands over his head, then turned back to me, grinning. “I’mma shoot my shot after I greet my boys. Think I’m gonna end the night with a double heartbreak?”

  I was pretty sure Bex wouldn’t give him the time of day. But he seemed nice enough, so I didn’t mind giving him a glimmer of hope.

  Shrugging, I lifted my beer to my lips. “You never know unless you try.”

  “I like that attitude, Little Miss Optimist.”

  Shouts brought our attention to the other side of the fire. People rushed to see what was going on. I would have stayed back, avoiding trouble, but Elijah tugged me by the hand.

  “Shit, it’s going down,” he said excitedly.

  Elijah pushed through the gathering throng, bringing me with him. I didn’t really want front row seats to a fight, but it didn’t look like I had a lot of choice. Sand sprayed as two guys dove at each other. Outside the ring of the illumination from the blaze, it was difficult to make out any details.

  The guy beside me jumped up and down, howling at the night sky. “Fuck that bitch up, Bash.” He cackled when a solid punch landed, the crunch of bone audible over the noise of the crowd and the music.

  I whispered my realization out loud. “Gabe.”

  The hyped-up boy beside me dipped his face down so we were eye level. “Little princess! What’s uuup?”

  Oh, he was high as a kite, rolling on something that was making him feel really good and forget the meaning of personal space.

  There was no time to answer him, not when a body came flying straight at me. I braced for impact, squeezing my eyes shut, but it never came. When I opened them again, Sebastian Vega stood in front of me, blocking everything else out.

  “You’re here,” he panted.

  My mouth went dry at the sight of his bloody eyebrow and the sweat dripping from his brow. He looked savage, completely untamed, with a hair-trigger violent reaction.

  “You are too,” I replied.

  Gabe jumped on his sweaty friend. “You fucked him up, dude. That little pussy knew better than to show his face—and he’s not gonna be forgetting again.”

  Gabe jostled Sebastian enough for me to see the guy on the ground, the one he’d bodily thrown in my direction, being helped up by a couple people. The guy was spitting epitaphs, fury coming off him in waves, clutching at his ribs like they were shattered, seeming unable to stand upright.

  How had Sebastian gone from zero to beatdown in the few minutes since he arrived?

  “He was warned,” Sebastian grumbled. “He had that coming.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  But my question was ignored when Elijah showed up with beers for the boys and me. Gabe didn’t really need another chemical swimming in his veins, but maybe alcohol would calm him. The same went for me. Ever since opening my eyes to Sebastian, ants had been crawling beneath my skin.

  “You go to school with my girl Grace, don’t you?” Elijah asked Gabe and Bash, and I took long swallows of the piss-water.

  Gabe shot Sebastian a glance, raising his eyebrows wickedly. “Hell yes. Grace is our little princess. She stumbled onto the wrong side of the tracks and we’re not giving her back.”

  Sebastian crunched his already-empty beer can in his fist. “How do you know Grace?”

  Having Sebastian’s attention on him, Elijah seemed to sober. “I don’t. We just met and she shot me down within the first five minutes.”

  Sebastian raised a dark, bloody eyebrow at me. “Why’d you turn him down?”

  I tossed my empty can in the sand and crossed my arms over my chest. “That isn’t your business.”

  Gabe cocked his head, leaning in so his nose almost brushed Sebastian’s. “You’re pouring blood, man. Chicks dig scars, but I don’t know about gaping flesh wounds.”

  Sebastian shoved him away, then patted his pockets. “Fresh outta Band-Aids.”

  Seeing my way out of this situation, I offered help. “I have a first aid kit in my bag. I’ll run up to Bex’s van to get it.”

  A chin jerk was my answer, and I hurried away from them, searching my friend out. I found Bex with the group from Savage River. When she spotted me, her eyes lit up.

  “Girl, you were almost taken out by a dude’s body. Sebastian yeeted him right at you. I screamed.” She pressed a Solo cup in my hand. “Take a shot. I think it’s tequila, and I really shouldn’t be drinking it.”

  “Yep. I got pretty up close and personal, but I survived.” I downed the drink in one swallow, my esophagus burning from what was more lighter fluid than actual tequila. I held my hand out. “Can I have your keys? Bash needs a bandage and I offered to get one from my bag.”

  “Oh, yeah, sure.” She handed them over. “Want me to come with?”


  “Nope.” I shook my head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t worry about me.”

  Once I was away from the light of the bonfire, my strides slowed. I wasn’t in any hurry to get back—not when I’d have to talk to Sebastian again.

  My chest was heaving by the time I got to the top of the steep steps. Catching my breath, I glanced back at the beach. Black shadows of carefree kids danced in front of the blazing light of the fire.

  I shouldn’t have come here.

  My plan of flying under the radar this year had been thwarted within a day. I kept finding myself in situations that called attention to me—attention I didn’t want.

  Being busy helped, though. Surrounding myself with happy people allowed me to pretend to be one of them for a while. But I knew I wasn’t. My dad had been dead for a month, and every day had been a struggle to accept that this was my life.

  Sand and gravel crunched beneath my boots as I walked through the dark parking lot to the minivan. I pressed the key fob to unlock and slide the back door open, then rummaged in the back seat where I’d slung the slouchy purse I’d gotten on a weekend trip to Paris.

  With only the dim overhead light to help, I bent over my bag, searching through the rubble to find the small pouch filled with bandages and other sundries my mom had forced on me.

  “I thought you ran away.”

  Hairs on the nape of my neck stood at attention. Sebastian Vega's knees skimmed the backs of my legs. If I straightened, we’d surely be pressed together all the way to my shoulders.

  “No, I’m still here.” I had to fight the urge to throw myself into the van and lock the doors.

  “Waiting for me to bleed to death before you came back?” Rough fingertips trailed along the backs of my bare thighs, up to my butt, where he splayed his hands. “Thought I should come find you. You shouldn’t wander around dark parking lots all alone.”

  My hands had started shaking too badly to continue my search. I wondered what I would see if I looked into Sebastian Vega’s eyes right now. Would there be more violence, or something scarier? Ownership? His touch was so proprietary, he must’ve thought he had every right to do it.

  “Take your hands off me,” I hissed.

  “I’m not hurting you. And you didn’t mind at all when I touched you at the game.” One finger delved between my cheeks, pulling at the crotch of my panties. “Were you wet?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  He chuckled, low and mean. “You keep saying that, but I think I have the right to know.” His finger slid forward, feeling the damp material between my thighs. “I fucking knew it. I could smell it. Do you have any idea how hard that made me? Touching you like that right in front of your friends, and you allowing it? I thought any second you’d push me away, but you didn’t, Grace. You didn’t.”

  “If I pushed you off, would you stop?” Still bent at the waist, I braced my hands on the outside of the van. If I stood straight, he’d have access to more of me, but maybe he already had access to all he was interested in. My stomach dropped when he toyed with the edge of my panties, skimming my pussy lip.

  “If I thought you really meant it,” he pressed his hips against my butt, his erection like steel behind the zipper of his jeans, “then maybe.”

  “Well, I mean it. Get off me, Bash. I don’t want you touching me.” Without warning, I twisted around so we were face-to-face.

  He raked his dark gaze over me, then one corner of his mouth hitched. “Nah.” He trapped me in his arms, his chest pressed against mine. “I think you want to play.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sebastian gripped the back of my neck, holding me in place while he lifted the front of my skirt and dipped his hand inside my panties. His breath was hot on my lips. If he tried to kiss me, I’d bite the hell out of him. If I wasn’t two beers in and bogged down by grief, I’d scream.

  My heart pounded hard in my chest, threatening to crack its cage when his fingers grazed my clit.

  “Why are you doing this? You don’t even like me.”

  He shook his head, his gaze on his hand under my skirt. “I don’t have to like you to want to stick my dick in you. I can hate you and still want the taste of your pussy on my lips. This isn’t about liking anyone. We’re not children with crushes.” His fingers circled my clit, teasing and taunting.

  My stomach swooped low to the ground. Panic shot up my spine. He was doing this. Touching me. Maybe fucking me too, if he so chose. Even if I screamed, no one would hear me. The only people around were over a cliff with the ocean and music drowning out all other sounds.

  The fingers gripping the back of my neck delved into my hair, fisting it to pull my head back. He dipped his face to my straining neck, dragging his teeth along my throat, then licked a path from my clavicle to my jaw, all while continuing his slow torture between my thighs.

  Sebastian was right. I was wet. That didn’t mean I wanted this. My body reacted because he was touching sensitive nerve endings. It was an automatic response that had nothing to do with who was doing the touching. Yes, I was attracted to him in some warped way, but I barely knew him. We’d never even kissed—I’d never wanted to kiss him—and he now knew what my pussy felt like.

  “Pull your shirt up, Grace. Show me how pretty your tits are.” When I didn’t move fast enough, he bit my shoulder, digging his teeth into the muscle. Sharp sparks of electricity blasted through me. I tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. His lips soothed the sore spot, latching on to me like he was never letting go. It was too much, overloading my brain. Pain and pleasure mixed so thoroughly, I couldn’t tell one from the other.

  Dark whispers in the back of my mind I didn't quite understand made me want to obey him.

  Whimpering, I tugged the hem of my thin tee, gathering it above my bra. Sebastian finally let go of me to watch my every move. When he continued to stare down at me, unsatisfied and fisting my hair so painfully, it took my breath away, I reached behind me to unhook my bra. It wouldn’t fall, not with my shirt still on, so I pushed it up, letting my breasts free from the cups.

  Sebastian grunted, stepping into me until I fell back on my butt inside the minivan. He followed, placing one knee between my thighs and looming over me. Hoping for some space, I scooted back. My mistake became obvious almost immediately. Sebastian followed, filling in any space I’d gained with his taut body and sliding the minivan’s door closed behind him.

  I was trapped. The second row of seats had been removed, so he had plenty of room to do whatever he wanted with me.

  And he did.

  He dipped his hot mouth to my breasts, clamping down on my nipple. He sucked me between his lips and palmed the other. And I was both sick with revulsion at the liberties he was taking and furious with my body for arching into his mouth.

  I tried to hide my response, but when he lifted his head, a cocky smirk tipped his full, wicked lips.

  “You can deny it all you want, but you like it, Grace. You like this.” He curled his fingers around my throat, squeezing more gently than I expected. “If you fight me, it will only make me harder. Remember when I said I like it when you bite back?”

  “You’re sick,” I wheezed, even though I had plenty of air. The very threat of his hand on my throat caused me to feel strangled. But I didn’t thrash or try to buck away, because some deep, unexplored part of me did like this. The danger, the loss of control, the bite of pain. That realization took my breath away more than his hand and it sent my mind tumbling in fear.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?” He lowered his hips between my legs, rubbing his erection against my core. My eyes threatened to roll back when he hit my clit again and again.

  “Why would you want me like this? Please.” Why do I like this?

  My nails dug into his solid chest. He tightened the hand at my throat, and I stilled immediately, my eyes wide and pleading. His returning gaze was black and unyielding. My pleas meant nothing to him. He would take and take until I w
as hollowed out. I saw that in the hard planes of his face, the tic of his jaw, the subtle shudder in his shoulders each time he thrust against me.

  I had no power here. There was no stopping Sebastian. Did I even want to?

  He sucked my tits until I cried out, then he moved down my body, tugging my panties off in a violent, swift motion. His palms pressed my thighs so far, the outsides rested on the rough carpet on the floor of the van.

  “Sebastian...Bash...that hurts.” I struggled to close my legs. My face burned with embarrassment and fury at the way he studied me. “Is your goal to humiliate me? Because you have. Your mission is accomplished.” Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes and into my hair.

  Sebastian tracked them, then moved forward to follow the path with his tongue. My channel clenched from arousal even as my mind warred against it.

  “You look fucking beautiful when you cry, Grace. You always have.” He sank his teeth into my bottom lip, tugging until I mewled like a poor, injured kitten. “And no, my goal is to get you off and then put that pretty pussy on my dick. Humiliation is just a byproduct.”

  He crawled back down my body, settling his face between my legs. His mouth was on me then, sucking my clit so hard, my hips lifted off the floor. I screamed his name, begging for him to stop, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.

  I despised myself for the pleasure that rippled up my spine. I despised Sebastian even more for doing this to me. For putting his mouth where no one else ever had and giving me pleasure even when he meant to break me after. For making me want what he was doing to never end.

  Tears flowed freely as pressure in my belly mounted. Sebastian curled a finger inside me, pressing a spot I hadn’t known existed until that moment. My limbs shook. My belly clenched. I rocked into his mouth and rode his finger, even though my mind continued to protest and riot.

  I shouldn’t have been coming. Not when I was scared shitless. Not with this violent, terrifying boy who was little more than a stranger to me. Not in the back of my friend’s borrowed minivan.