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

by Julia Wolf

  It didn’t matter what I should have been doing. My orgasm tore through my body, ripping me apart at the seams. I’d never come so hard in my life. I was in shambles when Sebastian raised up on his knees, peering down at my shaking body.

  He palmed his erection through his jeans, then grabbed my hand, pressing it against him.

  “I’m gonna fuck you now, Grace. I’ll even be gentle if that’s what you want.”

  I shook my head, sobs rendering me speechless. Sebastian reached down and swiped my tears with his thumb, then licked it clean, humming with satisfaction.

  He undid his fly, pushing his jeans and underwear down his hips just enough to free his length. I didn’t have much experience, but to me, he looked massive. Like he’d break me in half.

  “No,” I whispered. This was my line. If he went any farther, there would be no going back. My mind and my body finally agreed on this fact.

  He held my legs open, and then his dick slid through my folds. His expression heated, but only for a beat, then he went blank again, devoid of emotion.

  “No?” He curled his fingers around my throat again. “Really, Grace? After how hard you came on my mouth?”

  I twisted and squirmed, frantic to avoid this at any cost. If he squeezed the life out of me, I’d gladly take that over being raped. He’d already taken me to the precipice. If he pushed, I’d fall, and I might not ever get up again.

  “If you do this, you’re no better than Nate.” I clawed at his arms. Anything to get his attention. To convince him this wasn’t right. That now I truly didn’t want it. I didn’t even know if he knew what I meant. If he knew what Nate had done. I’d tell him my every last secret if I could save myself.

  Sebastian froze over me. He growled like an animal, his eyes wild, the rest of him cold and emotionless.

  The hand on my throat slid up to my jaw, keeping me still, unable to look away from him. Not that I would. If he raped me, he would have to see the light go off in my eyes, because it would. My finger was already on the switch.

  Throwing his head back on a groan, he started thrusting without entering me. He ground his shaft against my clit, then reached between us to pinch my folds around him, giving him a tight glove to plunge into. I held my breath the entire time, crazed with the fear that he could slip and enter me at any second.

  As crazy as he was acting, Sebastian held himself on a tight leash. His movements, while frantic, were controlled. He panted above me, not allowing more than the weight of his hips to press down on me.

  “Grace. Fucking Grace.” His face reddened, and his eyes locked on mine. His erection pulsed on my stomach, hot splashes hitting my skin as he spilled.

  As soon as he finished, he reared back on his knees, tucking his dick away in his pants. Accusation contorted his features, but he didn’t voice whatever was on his mind. Instead, he grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on the center console and tossed them at me.

  “Clean up. I’ll walk you back to the bonfire.” His voice cracked, and he refused to look at me.

  Angry and still afraid, I wiped his cum from my skin as best as I could and righted my clothes. Sebastian tossed my ruined underwear at me. They were too wet to wear, so I started to tuck them in my purse.

  “You’re going back down there in that skirt with no underwear? No.” He took them from me, lifted my booted foot, carefully put it through the leg hole, then repeated with the other side. “Pull them up. If I know you’re walking around with a bare cunt, I’m going to want to fuck you. Since you made it clear the idea completely repulses you, you better cover up.”

  I lifted my hips to pull my underwear on the rest of the way, sniffling and silent. I refused to cry one more drop in front of him.

  Sebastian opened the door, climbing out of the van first, then held his hand out for me like some sort of gentleman. Sneering at it, I helped my own damn self to my feet and stalked away from him as fast as I could.

  He caught up with me in seconds, gripping the nape of my neck. “This is between us, Grace. I won’t tell anyone how good your pussy tastes, and you won’t tell anyone everything else.”

  Normally, I would have acted defiant. I would have asked him what he would do if I told someone. But now, I was truly afraid. I didn’t want to know what he’d do. Because deep down in my soul, I knew if I found out, it wouldn’t be something I could come back from.

  He held up a Band-Aid between two fingers before ripping it open and haphazardly sticking it to his bleeding brow. He’d even remembered why we’d gone to the van in the first place. Why I had, anyway.

  At the bottom of the steps, still in shadow, Sebastian pulled me to a stop. I didn’t see him coming, not before his warm lips pressed against my forehead, kissing me so gently, I almost began sobbing again.

  “You really are beautiful, Grace. Fucking beautiful.” His lips touched my cheekbone in another soft caress. “Especially when you cry.”

  He stalked off toward the bonfire, leaving me alone in the dark. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but it seemed like minutes when Bex found me.

  “Hey, girlie. Sebastian said you were ready to go. You don’t feel good?” she asked.

  “Uh…” I cleared my thickly coated throat. “Yeah. I drank too fast and my stomach hates me. Do you mind if we go?”

  “Not at all.” She looped her arm through mine and we began the long trudge up the steps again. “God, I can’t believe Bash came to find me for you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the psycho has a crush.”

  If this was Sebastian’s version of a crush, I’d hate to be on the receiving end of his love. I highly doubted I’d live to tell the tale.

  “You do know better. He’s probably just nicer when he’s a little drunk.” I hoped she didn’t notice the tremor in my voice.

  When she laughed, I was relieved. Bex was still Bex. The rest of my world had gotten turned upside down, but at least I had one good, pure thing.

  I’d be okay. I’d be good again. Even though he’d tried, Sebastian Vega hadn’t broken me.

  Chapter Nine

  My mother tugged on the hem of my T-shirt. “Really? One week into school and you’ve already given up on looking cute?”

  I brushed her aside, grabbing my backpack from the floor. “I told you I don’t feel great.”

  She cupped my elbow, studying my pinched expression. “I let you miss school yesterday, Grace, but cut me some slack here. You’re not feverish and have no symptoms besides not feeling great. I’d be a bad mom if I let you stay in bed another day.” Her soft hand slid up the back of my arm. “Are you missing your dad as badly as I am?”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and my head bobbed. Yeah, I was missing him. I’d been missing him for forever, it seemed. I’d gotten used to that hole in my heart. But that wasn’t why I’d spent Sunday and Monday in bed and had barely forced myself to roll out this morning.

  There wasn’t a chance I’d tell my mom what happened with Sebastian. Never, ever. She’d spent the last two years taking care of my dad, then watched him die. She was incredibly strong, but the last thing I would ever do was burden her with this.

  My mom pulled me into a tight hug. I was half a foot taller than her, but she still knew how to hug the hell out of me. I allowed two or three tears to fall, safe in her arms. Any more, and I wouldn’t stop.

  “Baby, I know. Daddy loved you as big as the moon. When you live your whole life with that, it’s almost impossible to keep going once it’s gone. But, Gracie girl, I love you something fierce. It won’t ever be the same, but we’ll get through this. I promise we will. We’re strong Patel girls, too badass to break for long.”

  “Love you too, Mom. We’ll get through this,” I mumbled into her floaty blonde hair.

  She pulled back, holding me by the shoulders. “Now, are you going to change, or are you going to force that eyesore of an outfit onto the student body of Savage River?”

  I huffed a laugh, looking down at the T-shirt I’d tie-dyed at summer camp when
I was thirteen. It was my go-to, I-wanna-feel-comfy-and-nostalgic bumming around shirt.

  “Eyesore.”

  She snorted. “All right. Eyesore it is. Let’s get outta here before we’re late.”

  I didn’t feel like myself yet, so I wasn’t dressing like myself. My shirt hung past my hips and my jeans had been my dad’s back in the nineties. They were well-worn, comfortable, and most importantly, didn’t cling to a single inch of my body. I knew this form of armor wouldn’t hold up under the battering ram that was Sebastian Vega, but it was something.

  It was all I had.

  Bex was waiting for me in sociology. I slipped into the seat beside her, sighing.

  “Well, you look like crap,” she said.

  “No hello? Good morning? Just you look like crap?”

  She waved a dismissive hand. “We’re past the formalities in our friendship.” She leaned forward to get a better look at me. “That cheap beer really messed you up, huh?”

  Pressing a hand to my forehead, I had to smile. “I guess so. I’m doing better, though.”

  “Good. Because I had to eat lunch with Cassie and Aiden yesterday, and I really can’t go through that again.”

  “Tongues and groping?” I asked.

  “So much.” She sobered after a few seconds and reached across the aisle to tap my hand. “Are you sure you’re good? We can talk about whatever. I’m a rad listener.”

  My chest warmed so fast, I had to avert my gaze to my desk. I’d never had this type of friendship before, one where I didn’t feel in constant competition. Bex actually cared, for no other reason than we were friends.

  “You’re a rad everything, girl. And thanks, but I’m just going through the normal teenage angst. I’ll be back on my game ASAP,” I replied.

  After class, we parted ways. I zoned out through Spanish, then raced to math, stopping at Mr. Klaski’s desk. He glanced up at me, weariness already curling his shoulders. He’d been teaching here for two weeks and had already aged ten years.

  “How can I help you, Grace?” he asked.

  “I have a splitting headache from eye strain. Would it be possible for me to sit in the front of the class from now on?”

  Anything not to be in the back with Sebastian, who hadn’t arrived yet.

  “I sympathize. I do.” Mr. Klaski steepled his hands under his chin. “The problem is, if I let you move, then everyone else will want to move too.”

  My throat clogged with panic. “Please. Even if it’s just for today,” I rasped.

  His eyes darted over my face and he exhaled, sinking back into his wooden chair. “You really don’t feel well?”

  I shook my head, pressing my lips into a tight line.

  “All right. You can take Gabriel’s desk today. He sleeps through class anyway. He might enjoy the back better. Less noise to disturb him.” Mr. Klaski cocked a grin at me, then nodded toward my desk for the period.

  I took Gabe’s seat and opened my math textbook, studying it like it held all the answers to my problems. My hair acted as a curtain around my face, but it couldn’t hide the boy who came to a halt in front of me.

  “Little princess...have you lost your way? You seem to be in my chair.”

  With my eyes still on my book, I said, “Klaski gave me permission to sit here today. You’ll have your desk back tomorrow.”

  He huffed. “Hey, Bash, look where Gracie’s sitting today.”

  I squeezed my eyelids tight. If I didn’t see him, maybe I’d be okay. I could pretend it didn’t happen. Convincing myself it would never happen again would come naturally.

  Long fingers curled around the edges of my desk, shaking the entire thing twice. “Grace...you really can’t hide from me. I think you know that,” Sebastian whispered, low and dark, only for me to hear.

  I refused to look at him. He might have thought he had power over me, but not here. He was brazen and more than a little crazy, but all Mr. Klaski would have to do was press a button and security would come running. Hopefully, that would keep him leashed.

  He slapped my desk again, then moved to my side, feathering his fingers along my jaw. My breath caught in my throat at the ghost of his hand gripping me there. Then he passed, leaving me alone and in shambles.

  I heard nothing Mr. Klaski said. My legs shook from adrenaline tinged with fear. The most I could do was watch the clock, hoping for time to somehow speed up so I could bolt out of this classroom as soon as the bell rang.

  A tap on my shoulder had me turning to the girl behind me. “Yes?”

  She handed me a piece of folded paper, shrugging. “They said to pass this to you,” she whispered.

  I thanked her, then twisted back to face front, dropping the paper on my desk like it was poisoned. It most definitely was, either with words or chemicals. With trembling fingers, I unfolded it, holding my breath as I read what lay inside.

  Grace,

  Don’t run. I’ll find you anyway, and I’ll enjoy the chase.

  Sit with me at lunch.

  SV

  My breath released in one long gush as I reread the note three times. I’d expected a threat, and Sebastian hadn’t disappointed in that regard, but the rest raised my hackles. Anger burned through my veins. Why would I have lunch with him? Was he so out of touch with reality he actually thought I could relax enough around him to share a casual meal?

  Crumpling the paper in my fist, I dropped it into my backpack. My plan hadn’t changed. Five more minutes, and I would run.

  Chills crawled up my spine. I knew he was watching me. He’d been watching me all period, but it had intensified the closer it got to the bell ringing.

  One minute.

  Just as I shoved my textbook into my overloaded backpack, Sebastian came to stand beside me.

  “Sebastian? Can I help you? Class isn’t over yet.” Mr. Klaski sounded flustered and like he didn’t actually want to have to try to control this boy. He probably had his fingers crossed, wishing and praying Sebastian would just go sit back down without a problem.

  “Nah, I’m good here,” Sebastian drawled, resting his hand on my desk. He pointed to the clock behind our teacher with his other hand. “Bell’s about to ring. Five, four, three, two, one.” He waved his finger in the air like a conductor of a symphony as the bell chimed, then bent down and swiped my backpack off the floor.

  “Give that to me,” I gritted out.

  He tossed it over his shoulder. “Are you carrying bricks in here? This thing is heavier than you.” He held his hand out to me. When I only stared at it, he shook it. “Come on.”

  Sighing, I slid out of my seat without his help. He gripped my shoulders, turning me away from him, and slipped my arms through the straps of my backpack. It did weigh a lot, but that was because I planned to avoid my locker from now on.

  Gabe nearly knocked me down when he draped his arms over Sebastian and me. “Who’s starving? My mom packed me some leftovers. Spaghetti and shit. I’m about to inhale it. You have anything good, little princess?”

  I ducked from under his arm, ignoring him entirely as I scurried through the door. I knew I had no real hope of getting away from them, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try.

  They let me get a few steps down the hall before Gabe grabbed the handle on the top of my backpack and hauled me back against him. He pushed my hair away from my ear, dipping his head so his mouth tickled my lobe.

  “That wasn’t very nice. I asked you a question, and you didn’t even answer.”

  “I have a sandwich. Turkey. I made it myself.” I slid my narrowed eyes over to look at his cocky smirk. “Why are you touching me without my permission? I find that to be not very nice.”

  He let me go, holding his hands up. “Touché. I’m a gentleman, Gracie.” He chuckled, swiping a hand over his mouth. “Kinda. Sort of. When I choose to be. Just don’t ask anyone about that—especially Meghan Garcia.”

  Gabe spun around to face me and jerked his chin at Sebastian, whose toes nipped at my heels. “I’m gonna
peace out and let you two lovebirds have some time. See you outside.” Then he jogged off down the hallway, leaving Sebastian and I alone.

  Sebastian kept pace with me, matching my stride. “Are you sick?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.” My lip curled, but I kept my eyes straight ahead. “Did you tell Gabe what happened?”

  “What happened when?”

  The audacity. As if he didn’t know exactly what I was talking about.

  My fingers clenched around my backpack straps. “In the van. When you assaulted me. When you almost raped me.”

  He leaned into me. “When you came hard on my mouth and rode my finger like it was your job?”

  “Twisting what happened won’t make it any less real. We both know I didn’t ask for that.”

  He hummed under his breath. “Maybe not. But I never heard you say no.”

  Hadn’t I? I’d been screaming it in my head, but had I not said the words? I couldn’t remember. Then I wondered if it mattered. I’d fought him, cried at his touch, nearly burned to ashes with humiliation. Hadn’t that been enough?

  “Ever heard of enthusiastic consent? Or do you just not care?” I stomped up the steps, darting my eyes to the tightly wound guy beside me. It would be a mistake not to keep track of his movements, even if I couldn’t quite face him head-on. “Is that something you do often? Do you like scaring girls?”

  He didn’t respond, and that was fine. My questions had been more rhetorical anyway. I wasn’t interested in delving into the mind of Sebastian Vega. All I wanted was to get as far from him as I could.

  When we stepped out into the upper level, he replied, “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “No, I don’t like scaring girls. That’s specific to you.” He slid his fingers under my hair, gripping my nape. I couldn’t get away, and since he’d stopped moving, so had I. The hall had pretty much cleared out, everyone either at lunch or their next class, so we were effectively alone. If I screamed, someone would hear, but what would I say? He wasn’t hurting me, not really.