Drown: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Diamond Cove High Book 1)

by Gina Finley

  “Yo,” I say.

  “You alone?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck,” he says. “Dash we have a problem.”

  I close the fridge. “What’s the problem?”

  “We’re here,” he says. “We need to come in.”

  “At the house?”

  “Yeah. I saw the truck you got for her, so I didn’t want to barge–”

  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “Come down.”

  I end the call, set the phone on the counter, and walk to the door. When I open it, I see Shane carrying a bloodied Fox and Tyler walking beside them.

  “The fuck happened?” I ask.

  “The fucking football team happened,” Tyler says.

  Shane brings him in. Fox’s eyes are nearly swollen shut. There are cuts at the corners of his mouth and across the bridge of his nose. His lips are split and there’s blood glazed on his teeth. He’s barely conscious, his eyes half-open.

  “Put him on the couch,” I say, closing the door behind them.

  Shane lays him down carefully on the couch. Fox coughs and moans, clutching his stomach.

  “Where is she?” Tyler asks, looking around.

  “Bathroom,” I say. “Don’t worry about her. What the hell happened?”

  “He was at Alana Burkett’s house,” Tyler explains. “He texted me to tell me he was going over to her place because she wanted to hook up. She’d texted him, asked him what was up, told him to come over. You know him. He practically ran.” He rubs his jaw. “But she wasn’t there. When he got there, like, the entire offensive line from the high school was there, waiting on him. So I guess she was in on it, too. He texted me as soon as he got there. I told him to get the fuck out of there, but you know how he is. He didn’t. Not sure if he got out to fight them or if they pulled him out, but...they got to him. Obviously.”

  I look at Fox. His eyes are closed now.

  “Because of Miner,” I say.

  “Assume so,” Tyler says. “He wasn’t there from what he told me so I don’t even know if he knows. But it seems clear that those fuckers were retaliating for last night.”

  I look at Fox on the couch. He moans again.

  “Could he tell you anything?” I ask.

  “No,” he says, shaking his head. “We got there and he was just in the street, spitting up blood. All I got from him was what he told me beforehand. We loaded him in Shane’s truck and drove straight here.” He glances at Fox. “I was trying to talk to him. I asked him about going to the hospital and it’s the only time he was vocal. He didn’t wanna go.” He runs a hand through his hair. “So I don’t know.”

  The bathroom opens and Cara walks out, running a hand through her wet hair. “Hey, do you have–” She stops short when she sees Shane and Tyler standing there. “Oh. Hi.”

  Tyler holds up a hand and Shane nods.

  I point at the couch and she walks over, then puts her hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit.”

  I kneel down on the floor. “Fox. Dude. You hear me?”

  Fox coughs and manages a small nod.

  “Miner do this to you?” I ask. “Was he there?”

  He coughs again, winces in pain, and shakes his head.

  “Need to know who it was, dude,” I say. “Need you tell me who it was if it wasn’t him.”

  He manages to open one eye. It’s bloodshot and swollen, but he gets it open. “Masters.”

  “Masters,” I repeat to him. “Tim Masters?”

  He manages another nod. “Was him. And his O-line buddies. Told me it was for Jason.”

  Rage bubbles inside of me.

  “Who is that?” Cara asks.

  “Remember the two guys with him when he stopped you?” Tyler says. “One of the guys that was with him.”

  Cara nods.

  “You don’t want to go to the hospital?” I ask.

  He shakes his head again. “Just need to sleep. Be fine.”

  I’m not sure about that, but I’m not going to force him to go. I stand up and look at Tyler and Shane. “We’re going to find Masters.”

  They both nod.

  “I want to come,” Cara says.

  We all look at her.

  “I want to come,” she says again. “This is partly my fault.”

  “No, it’s–”

  “Yes, it is, Dash,” she says. “It started with me at school. Then last night. Now this. I’m coming.”

  I look at the guys.

  Shane’s noncommittal, as usual.

  Tyler looks doubtful.

  “I can drive,” Cara says. “We can take the truck. Wherever we’re going. They won’t know it.” She looks at me. “You can trust me.”

  I have to make a decision.

  I look at my friend lying on the couch.

  My brother.

  This will not stand.

  I look at Cara. “You understand what you’re stepping into? This isn’t going to be pretty. You sure you want to be a part of that?”

  She looks at Fox, then nods. “Yes.”

  I take another second to think about it. “Alright. Let’s go.”

  THIRTY THREE

  Cara

  I’ve never seen anyone as beat up as Fox.

  As I drive, I can’t stop seeing his face on Dash’s couch. Bruised, bloodied, swollen. It’s brutal. And I am partly responsible. I believe that.

  “Let’s go to Alana’s,” Dash says from the passenger seat. “She had to know what was going on.”

  “How the fuck are we going to get her out?” Tyler asks.

  No one says anything.

  “I can do it,” I say. “I can do it.”

  “How?” Dash asks.

  “Just let me do it,” I say. “Where does she live?”

  He gives me direction and guides me into a neighborhood not far from mine. Her house is a single level with a wide front lawn and a terracotta roof. There’s a white BMW parked in the driveway.

  “Park down the street,” Dash says.

  I nod, drive past her house, make a U-turn, and then park at the curb, several houses down.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell him.

  “Wait,” he says, grabbing my arm. “What are you doing?”

  “Do you trust me?”

  He hesitates, then nods.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell him.

  I get out of the truck and walk quickly down the sidewalk, working over what I’m going to say to her. My stomach is a jumble of nerves, but I’m not going to screw this up.

  I take the brick walkway that cuts through her yard and push the glowing doorbell before I can think otherwise. I hear the doorbell chime behind the door and a moment later a woman in her forties in jeans and a blue sweater answers.

  “Is Alana home?” I ask.

  She gives me a faint smile. “She is. Can I tell her who’s here?”

  “My name’s Cara,” I say, seeing no point in lying. “She’s not expecting me.”

  The woman nods, then tells me to wait. She disappears and I purposefully move a bit further away from the door.

  A moment later, a girl with short blond hair and green eyes is standing there. She’s in a pair of denim shorts and a cropped gray sweatshirt that shows off her flat stomach. She eyes me through the door and then recognition flashes through her expression.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks.

  “Can we talk?” I ask. “Out here? It’ll only take a minute.”

  She looks at me, suspicious. “Why?”

  “I know what happened,” I tell her. “Tonight. I heard.”

  Panic flashes through her eyes.

  “I wanted to thank you,” I say, lowering my voice. “For what happened to Fox.”

  Now she’s wary. “I don’t know–”

  “I know you helped Tim,” I say. “Please. Can I just talk to you for a minute? I might have some info that you might want to give to him.”

  She blinks once and checks over her shoulder. “Okay give me a second.” She closes
the door.

  I step down off of the stoop and glance down toward the truck. I’m hoping they’re watching.

  Her front door reopens and she’s got sandals on. She steps outside and closes the door behind her.

  “I just figured you might not want to talk in your house,” I tell her.

  “Yeah, for sure,” she says, coming down the steps. “My mom listens to everything. Let’s go out to the sidewalk.”

  Perfect.

  We reach the sidewalk and I turn slowly in the direction of the truck, strolling like I’m thinking. “So I know what happened.”

  “Tim and those guys beat the shit out of that asshole,” she says, laughing. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to help them, but now I’m glad I did.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “Totally. My dad works for Dash’s dad and we were over there when he found out. Sounds like he was pretty fucked up.”

  “He was,” she says, nodding. “Was five guys. Tim and his football friends. They stomped his ass.”

  I can see the truck about ten yards in front of us now. “Well, thank you, I guess. I know what happened to Jason sucked, but I never asked Dash to defend me or anything like that. I think he was just trying to mess with me.”

  “He messes with everyone,” Alana says. “Everyone. I think this was Tim’s way of getting back at him a little bit. Of course, he’s probably scared of Dash like everyone else. So going after Fox must’ve felt safer to him.”

  “Right,” I say, fighting my hands so they don’t ball into fists. I stop right at the truck. “That makes perfect sense to me.”

  She starts to say something else when the passenger door to the truck opens and Dash steps out. Her mouth is frozen in place for a second and then she turns like she’s going to run. I reach out and grab her arm and yank her back toward me. She stumbles and falls to the grass. Dash strides over, picks her up, and carries her to the pickup. Shane slides out and he tosses her in the backseat. Shane gets in next to her and pulls the door closed.

  Dash says nothing to me and gets back into the truck. I jog around the front and get in on the driver’s side.

  I turn around once I’m inside. Her eyes are wide and Shane’s hand is clamped over her mouth.

  “She told me,” I say. “She helped Tim get Fox her. She said there were five of them.”

  Her eyes bulge again and she starts to squirm in the seat between Shane and Tyler.

  “Don’t you fucking move,” Dash says. “Or he’ll put your head through the back window. Don’t you fucking move.”

  She freezes in place.

  “He’s going to take his hand off of your mouth,” Dash says. “Do not make a sound until I tell you to? Understood?”

  She nods one time.

  Shane takes his hand off of her mouth.

  She gets off the beginning of a high pitched scream that might shatter glass, but Dash immediately slaps her so hard she falls against Shane, who pushes her right back up.

  “Alana,” Dash says. “This is disappointing. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. It’s your call. Are you going to be quiet and listen to me?”

  Shane is holding her in place. There are red marks on the side of her face and tears in her eyes. She manages to nod.

  “You’re going to text Masters,” Dash says. “Tell him to meet you at the beach in fifteen minutes. The lifeguard tower. Tell him that Fox’s mother called yours and you aren’t sure what to do and you’re freaking out. I don’t give a shit what you tell him, but get him to the beach. Do you understand?”

  She’s shaking, but manages a nod.

  “Good,” he says. “Take out your fucking phone right now.”

  She reaches into the pocket of her shorts and pulls out a phone in a pink case.

  “Text him right now,” Dash says. “Shane and Tyler are going to watch and if they think one word that you type is bullshit, I swear to god, you’ll never type a single thing ever again. You hear me?”

  She nods.

  “Do it,” Dash says.

  Her hands are shaking but she manages to type. Shane looks over at Dash and nods after she’s done.

  Her phone vibrates thirty seconds later. Tyler leans over to read it.

  “Says he’ll be there,” Tyler says. “We’re good.”

  “Give me your phone,” Dash says.

  She hesitates then gives it to him.

  “Get out of the truck.”

  Shane pushes open the door and slides out. She follows him. Dash pushes his door open and drops her phone on the sidewalk, grinding his heel into it. Then he unzips his jeans and pulls his dick out.

  “Alana, let’s be clear on one thing,” he says, unloading a stream of piss on her shattered phone. “If you attempt to let Masters know we’re coming for him, we’ll come back for you. Do you want that?”

  “N-n-n-o,” she stammers, watching him urinate on her phone.

  He finishes and zips himself back up. “Good. Now go home and if you ever fuck with one of my friends again, it’ll be you I piss on instead of your phone.”

  Shane lets go of her and she looks around for a moment, then runs back to her house.

  Shane and Dash climb back into the truck. Dash stares straight ahead, his jaw set.

  He looks at me. “Let’s go to the beach.”

  THIRTY FOUR

  Dash

  My hand grips the door the entire drive to the beach. The anger inside of me over what’s happened to Fox is simmering inside of me. I can’t believe that they went after him and I can’t believe they didn’t have the guts to come after me.

  They will pay for this.

  Cara guides her truck into the parking lot at the beach and I have her park in the far corner. We are five minutes early and that’s what I want. She cuts the engine and the four of us sit in silence for a moment.

  “I want you to wait here in the truck,” I tell her. “Because I want you to be ready to get us out of here. You understand?”

  She nods.

  “If you want to go home, now’s the time,” I tell her. “Now’s the time.”

  “I’m here,” she says. “No going back.”

  I hope she knows what that means.

  The three of us get out of the truck and head for the sand. It’s nearly pitch black on the beach, which is what I want. The moon is hidden behind the clouds and the ocean is black, save for the white lines of the fallen waves. The wind is blowing out toward the water.

  We spread out on the sand and I find a spot near the lifeguard tower where I can see the lot. A few minutes later, I see headlights flash across the lot and a car pulls in. I recognize the old Mustang as Tim’s. I clench my hands, then unclench them.

  He parks the Mustang and gets out, scanning the beach. He hesitates for just a second, then heads toward the sand. His phone glows in his hand as he walks and I’m sure he’s texting Alana. If she’s smart, she’ll ignore his texts.

  I wait until he’s about five yards from me before I step out of the shadows and charge at him. He freezes in place for a moment when he sees me coming, probably confused. As he tries to backpedal, it’s too late and I hit him full blast and take him off of his feet, my shoulder buried in his sternum. He lands on his back and I can feel the air go out of him.

  I land two quick punches to his gut and now he can barely move. Hard to fight back when you can’t breathe. I grab a handful of sand and shove it into his mouth and eyes. He spits and twists, choking and gagging.

  I push off of him and pick up his ankle. I twist it hard and he screams as it snaps in my hands. I yank hard on it, dragging him across the sand. Shane and Tyler emerge from the shadows, walking alongside in case I need help dragging him.

  I don’t.

  I drag his body down to the edge of the water and drop his foot. He yelps again. The ankle is bent at a funny angle and I know it’s broken, so he’s not going anywhere.

  “You fucking go after my friend?” I say, looking down at him. “You don’t even have the balls to come after m
e?”

  He’s trying to crawl away on the hard packed sand. Shane kicks him in the ribs and he collapses to the sand again.

  “You can’t even let Miner fight his own battles, so you sucker my friend,” I say. “Fox didn’t do shit to that punk ass bitch. That was all me. You should’ve come for me. But you didn’t. Big mistake.”

  I reach down and grab his arm. I crank it backward until the shoulder pops and Tim screams. I pull him toward the water. The ocean is cold as it covers my shoes, but I don’t care. I pull him out through the heavy wet sand, just to the point where the water is pooling on the sand before it recedes back into the Pacific.

  I drop to my knees and put my hand on the back of his neck. “That was a big mistake, Tim. A big fucking mistake. But I’m guessing you know that now.”

  “I’m sorry, man,” he says, snot and sand caked all over his face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah, you fucking are,” I say.

  I wait until the water comes in and I shove his face down into it, holding his head down. His flails, but with a dislocated shoulder and a busted ankle, he’s not in any shape to do anything. When the water recedes, I yank his head up, his face now a mask of wet sand.

  “How’d that taste, Timmy?” I ask.

  “Fuck, man!” he says. “Stop!”

  The water comes in again and I shove his face back into the sand. I make sure and hold it there a second longer this time. When I yank his head up, he’s gasping and coughing.

  “Your friends aren’t here, Timmy,” I tell him. “Just you, buddy. And you’re fucked.”

  The water comes in again and I bury his head in it again. He splashes and flails, but I hold him down in the icy ocean until it recedes.

  I pull his head up. “You listening to me, Timmy?”

  “Oh god,” he says, crying now. “Yes. Please stop.”

  “In a second, I’m going to drag you out a little further into the water,” I tell him. “And then I’m going to let you go. If you can get yourself back in, you’ll live. If you can’t, you won’t. I seriously don’t give a shit which it ends up being. But if you manage to make it back in?” I hold his head in both of my hands, pushing hard against his cheeks. “If you ever come near me or any of my friends ever again, I will drag you out into this ocean and I will drown you without even thinking about it. Do you understand?”