When the Saint Falls: a high school bully romance (Westbrook three Book 1)

by A. D. McCammon

  “Oh, I don’t,” I grit. As we come to a red light, I give her my full attention, and she withers slightly under my hard glare. “There’s no question. But it’s too late for that now, baby doll. You and me forever. Remember? That wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. One I fully intend to keep.”

  Color blooms across her face and down her neck, her breathing heavy with both anger and need by the time we’re moving again.

  “You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let’s talk about the one you broke.”

  I growl in frustration, slamming my palm on the steering wheel. “I won’t apologize for beating the shit out of that creep. We both know he deserved it. But I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “You think this is about Joey? Seriously?” she squeaks, her back slamming into the seat as she crosses her arms. “You still don’t get it, do you? I don’t care about the stupid promise you made not to go after Joey. Cole told me what happened that night, and I don’t blame you. I’m hurt because you lied to me. Worst of all, you lied to me because you didn’t trust me with the truth. Even after everything I did to fight for you. For us. It wasn’t easy for me to be vulnerable with you, but I gave you my all. You had all this big talk about end game and forever, yet you never let me in. Your guard was up the entire time.”

  “You’re right.” I sigh, my chest aching from the hurt behind her words. “But it wasn’t about trusting you…I was—”

  “I told myself you were having a hard time accepting my love because you didn’t feel worthy of it. But maybe that’s only what I wanted to believe. Perhaps the truth is you didn’t feel the same way about me, and that’s why you never said it in return.”

  “Didn’t feel the same way?” I gape at her as I park my car outside the school.

  How could she possibly think I don’t care about her? That I don’t love her? Maybe I hadn’t said it before I left, but I’d said it several times in my letters, and she hasn’t given me the chance to say it since I returned.

  “But I—”

  She holds up her hand in a plea for me to stop talking. “Please don’t. I can’t do this right now. It’s too much. I love you, Thatcher. I probably always will, but I can’t go down this road with you again. I can’t open my heart to you knowing you’re not capable of doing the same for me.”

  I blink at her, dumbfounded by her statement, my brain unable to process her words. She sighs, her face marred with disappointment as she opens the car door.

  “Don’t try to find me after school. I’ll have Sam or Arwen take me home.”

  She slams the door before I have a chance to protest. Doubt tries to creep in as I watch her scurry away, but I shut it out. She still loves me. All I need to do is prove to her I’ve changed.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  VIOLET

  Thunder rumbles overhead, followed by a bright flash of lighting outside the library window. I groan as I take a seat at one of the wooden tables. Of all the days to be forced to stay inside during lunch. No way was I going to eat lunch in the cafeteria and risk having to face Thatcher again. Luckily, we haven’t had any classes together yet. Though, the likelihood of us having none together is very slim, a girl could dream.

  “There you are,” Samantha huffs as she takes a seat across from me. “Why the hell are you hiding in here?”

  I’ve spent a lot of time with Sam over the summer, and we’ve become close friends. She doesn’t know everything about the situation with Thatcher, but she knows enough. She’d been present for more than one of my drunken, emotional, meltdowns.

  “Avoiding you-know-who.”

  She scrunches her face. “Arwen told me about this morning, said you needed a ride home.”

  It’s still hard to get used to the idea of Arwen and Sam being friends, though it certainly makes my life a lot easier. Arwen was downright rude and cold to her, until Sam got over her little crush on Aidan. Turns out, he was the problem all along. One of these days, I’m going to get the real story with Arwen and Aidan.

  “Yep. I can’t believe he would show up like that. He’s so infuriating. And the worst part is, I miss him. God, I miss him so much, it hurts. It would be so easy to give in—to go back to the little bubble we were in before he left. I liked our bubble. It was cozy.”

  “Would that be so bad?” She shrugs a shoulder. “Thatcher is crazy about you. I’ve seen it myself.”

  I anxiously drum my fingers on the table, considering giving in the way I have several times since his return. “It’s not enough. I need to know he can go all in, and I don’t think he can.”

  “Maybe you should read his letters. They might give you a better idea of where his head is.”

  She has a point. I mean, it couldn’t hurt to at least see what he had to say for himself. Maybe he found clarity while he was away.

  “What the hell,” Arwen whines as she plops into the seat next to me. “Why didn’t I get the memo about eating in the library?” Her eyes are wide as they meet mine. “Where’s your phone, Violet?”

  “It’s in my backpack. Sorry, I—”

  “You should get it out,” she demands. “Like, right now. I sent you a very important text that needs your immediate attention.”

  “Okay, weirdo…” I mumble as I pull it from the front pocket of my backpack.

  My back stiffens as I read her text, my breath stalling in my lungs.

  Arwen: Thatcher is being a total stalker and listening to your conversation right now.

  My mind replays my conversation with Sam in my head, trying to figure out what all he could’ve heard as I slide it across the table for Sam to read. He is crossing all kinds of lines today. I think I’ll teach him a lesson.

  Sam’s eyebrows shoot up, and I smirk. This is going to be fun.

  “Oh, Sam! I meant to tell you, I saw that guy Tim you were telling me about. The one on the basketball team.”

  A smile tugs on Sam’s lips. She knows exactly where I’m going with this and she’s on board. “Isn’t he freaking gorgeous? I could eat him with a spoon.”

  My gaze slides over to Arwen as I make a show of moaning. Sheer pride radiates on her face. “God, yes. Gorgeous doesn’t even cover it. More like sex on a stick. You weren’t kidding about his eyes. Those are some panty droppers.”

  We all jump at the sound of the heavy library door slamming shut, then fall into a fit of laughter, earning a stern shushing from the librarian.

  “You know you’re going to pay for that later, right?” Arwen pants as her laughter dies down.

  I shrug, feigning indifference, though I feel anything but. “I bet he won’t try to eaves drop on me again.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  THATCHER

  Tim gives me another nervous look as I park my car in Violet’s driveway, and I bite back a laugh. “Where are we?”

  “My girlfriend’s house.”

  Not wanting to waste time answering any more of his asinine questions, I pull my keys out of the ignition, then get out of the car.

  Even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure Saint thought she was being funny today, I decided to seek out the guy she mentioned in the library. It wasn’t hard to figure out who they were talking about since there’s only one Tim on the basketball team. A junior who recently moved here from somewhere out west.

  Poor dude looked like he was going to shit his pants when I approached him. Someone already warned him about me. I guess reputations have a way of sticking to you. Oddly enough, it was easy to convince him to come here with me after school. He was on board the second I told him there was a cute girl who wanted to meet him.

  “I don’t understand,” he says, jogging up beside me. “Did you bring me here for your girlfriend?”

  I come to a stop at the bottom of the porch steps, turning my threatening glare on him, and he shrinks back. “What do you think?”

  He shakes his head, and I begin to ascend the stairs. “But why are we here?”

  “To prove a point.” I pause again at the front door,
looking over my shoulder to be sure the guy is still following me. “Apparently, my girlfriend is confused about some things. But there’s another girl in here that’s fair game.”

  As suspected, the door isn’t locked, and I let myself in. The girls go quiet as we make our way through the foyer into the living room. When we both step into the room, their mouths drop open.

  “These are the girls I was telling you about,” I say, keeping my eyes on Violet. “They apparently think you’re very good looking. What was it you said, baby doll? His eyes were real panty droppers?”

  “Oh my god!” Samantha cries, covering her face with her hands.

  Violet plasters a bored expression on her face as she comes to her feet. “Don’t you know how to knock? You can’t let yourself into someone’s house.”

  I smirk. “Why not? You did.”

  “Okay, I’m thoroughly mortified.” Samantha walks between us as she heads for the front door, cutting her eyes at me. “Thank you very much, Thatcher.” I shrug a shoulder. Servers her right for helping Violet screw with me. She sighs, swinging her head to Violet. “I’m going to go.”

  Violet huffs in frustration as her friend scurries out the door with Tim chasing after her. I laugh.

  “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

  I grin, taking a step closer. “You’re just mad because I beat you at your own game.”

  “I told you this morning, I’m not playing games, Thatcher.”

  I take another step toward her, my fingers practically twitching to touch her. “Then stop pretending you’re even remotely interested in anyone else. I heard you today. I know you miss me as much as I miss you.”

  Tugging on her arms, I pull her to me, closing the remaining gap between us and wrapping my arms around her waist. She swallows, her eyes flickering to my lips as I lean in.

  “Why are you fighting this so damn hard?”

  Her eyelids fall as my whispered words brush across her lips, and I blanket them with mine. The kiss is tender and sweet, but her tongue is salty with sorrow.

  She jerks out of my arms, backing away from me. “Were you listening to me at all this morning?”

  “I heard you,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, “but you were wrong, and I’ve figured out why. You haven’t read my letters.”

  She huffs. “You didn’t figure out shit. You were eaves dropping.”

  “Okay, fine. You got me.” I hold my hands up in surrender as I close in on her again. “But that’s not the important thing here. You need to read my letters. You were right about everything.” She looks down as I take her hands in mine, leaving only a small space between us. “I was afraid to let you in. Afraid the skeletons in my closet would scare you away, and I didn’t want to lose you. But I was wrong. I should’ve trusted you enough to give you a chance. That’s why I wrote those letters. They say everything I was too sacred to say out loud. Please read the them, then we can talk. If you still want me to leave you alone, I will.”

  Her eyes gloss over as she studies me, her resolve starting to crack. “If I tell you I’ll read them, will you leave?”

  My jaw ticks. The last thing I want to do is give her more time and space. It’s taking everything in me not to remind her how good we are together. To kiss her, touch her, and taste her until she’s begging me to stay. But I simply nod my head.

  “Yes.”

  “Fine. I’ll read the damn letters.” She pulls her hands from mine and crosses her arms again, looking through me instead of at me. “Now, please go.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to relieve some of the tightness in my chest as I reach out to caress her cheek. Her eyelashes flutter from my touch as she turns her head.

  “I’m going. There’s one more thing I need to say. Something I want you to hear. Something my dumbass should’ve already said.” I pause to see if she’ll acknowledge me. She doesn’t, but I keep going. “I love you, Violet.”

  Her mouth falls open as she gasps, a single tear rolling down her face as she meets my gaze again. I wait for her to say something, anything. To react. But she remains silent and still. So, I give her a sad smile and head out the door, praying my letters can fix this.

  Chapter Fifty

  VIOLET

  It feels like someone has cracked my chest wide open and is squeezing my heart. Tears stream down my face as I stare at the letters laid out before me and try to catch my breath. Thatcher’s soul is spread out among these pieces of paper. He hadn’t simply let me in, he’d given me a guided, behind-the-scenes tour.

  I always knew he was hiding parts of himself from me, but I had no clue how much. It’s all here, every single one of his gut-wrenching truths. The bullying and abuse followed by the total retaliation which led to him becoming the angry boy I met two years ago.

  Sometimes I forget the Thatcher I love today is the same one who once tormented me. He’s a different person now. Something he gives me credit for in his letters.

  Your love changed me, and your touch healed me.

  My stomach sours thinking of Brandi and the rest of Kandice’s friends taking advantage of a thirteen-year-old Thatcher. After going through puberty and spending the entire summer working out, he’d gone from this pudgy little kid to a fit teen boy, and they all took notice. I already knew they were the worst kind of humans, but I never could’ve imagined they were capable of something so depraved.

  Wiping the tears from my face, I reach for my phone and send Thatcher a text.

  Me: I’m ready to talk. Can I come over?

  Butterflies take flight in my belly as those three little dots pop up, and I wait for his reply. He should be angry with me. I’ve been so cold to him since he returned. Simply because I’d been too stubborn to read his letters. All I want now is to see him, hold him, touch him. He needs to know the things he shared with me only made me love him more.

  His response is almost instant. My breath stills as I read it.

  Thatcher: God, yes!

  A smile spreads across my face as my lungs begin to take in air again, and I rush to my feet, slipping on a pair shoes and grabbing my keys before heading for my car.

  Thatcher is sitting on his front porch waiting for me when I arrive, and my pulse quickens at the sight of him. I rush out of my car, practically sprinting down the sidewalk to get to him. As I approach, he stands, his hands running through his hair as he eyes me with uncertainty.

  Not wanting to waste another minute, I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. He chuckles, engulfing me as I rest my head on his chest.

  “Well…hello there,” he teases, kissing the top of my head.

  The hold on my heart loosens as I lift my head, finding his chocolate eyes filled with love for me. “I missed you too. And I love you. So much.”

  Relief washes over his features, his eyelids falling as he lets out a long exhale and rests his forehead against mine. “God, I love you.”

  The tightness in my chest dissolves at his words, my arms snaking around him even more. He leans back, cupping my head in his hands as he peers into my eyes.

  “Does this mean we’re good?”

  A loving warmth spreads through me as I look at the boy I love. “We’re good.”

  His lips spread into a smile, then he leans in to kiss me, his tongue only briefly caressing mine before pulling away again.

  “So, you read my letters?”

  The vulnerability behind his stare causes my throat to swell, guilt settling in the pit of my stomach from not having read them sooner. He’d been alone in that place for two months, pouring his heart out, and I’d let my hurt and anger get the better of me.

  “I did.” My answer is barely more than a whisper as I fight back the tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry I didn’t read them sooner or write you back. And for the way I treated you when you came home.”

  He chuckles as his thumb wipes away a rogue tear. “Oh…my little saint, you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s my fault for not let
ting you in sooner.”

  He kisses my forehead, then wraps his arms around me, and I hum with contentment as I lay my head on his chest again, taking in a greedy whiff of his clean scent.

  “Thank you for sharing all of that with me. It couldn’t have been easy.”

  He sighs, his arms tightening around me. “It was a lot easier than losing you would’ve been.”

  The pain in his words is palpable, tugging at my heart as I lift my head and stretch to connect my lips with his.

  I give him a chaste kiss, then nuzzle his nose with mine. “I’m not going anywhere. You and me—"

  “Forever,” he finishes before capturing my mouth with his.

  This time, there’s nothing delicate about our kiss. It’s devouring and all-consuming. Our tongues tangling together with an insatiable need. It’s filled with our love for each other and two months of longing.

  His hands move to my thighs, and I wrap my legs around him as he lifts me. When that familiar pressure begins to build between my legs, I grind my hips. He moans, causing my entire body to pulse as I pull my mouth from his.

  “Take me to your room,” I pant.

  His eyes glow with his hunger for me as that sexy, cocky smirk appears on his handsome face. “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

  Chapter Fifty-One

  THATCHER

  Violet smiles at me with a playful seductiveness as I close my bedroom door, and my heart soars as I stalk toward her. Having her here with me again feels like a dream. One I never want to wake from.

  As much as I hoped my letters would make amends for all my secrets and lies, I wasn’t entirely sure how she would react. There was some ugly shit written on those pieces of paper. It had to be a lot for her to process. I’ve only trusted two other people with everything I told her.