Spiteful Punks: dolls and douchebags part one

by Madeline Fay

  The sunlight is shining through my curtains, demanding I open my eyes to start getting ready for my first day of a new school but that wasn’t what really fully woke me up. I’ve always been a light sleeper, had to be, so it caught me by surprise when the warm body next to mine didn’t wake me up sooner. It was the finger twirling in my hair that had my eyes snapping open in an instant. Before I know it, my knife is out from under the pillow and pressing against a strong, male throat as I breathe heavily on top of the intruder with my vision blurry around the edges. The deep, dark chuckle curls around me like a lover's caress and wakes me up like a shot of caffeine to my system.

  "We really gotta stop meeting like this, sugarbutt. Well, maybe not, I kind of like it." Tey smiles wickedly underneath me, relaxing back into the bed as if I'm not about to cut his throat open.

  "Jesus Christ! Do you have a death wish? This is way too early for me. I need coffee before I come face to face with your psycho ass," I mumble grumpily, not kidding about the coffee part.

  Tey grins lazily up at me, crossing his arms behind his head and it’s then that I notice I’m still in his lap and there is a hard bulge growing under my ass. I remove the knife from his skin and scrub a hand down my face. How the hell do they keep getting into my room? I even shoved a chair under the doorknob last night... which I see is now missing when I glance over at the door.

  "Don't we all have a death wish? A way to go out on our own terms? This would be a beautiful way to go." His teeth flash before he moves and I suddenly find myself under him, his piercing blue eyes holding me in place as the breath is knocked out of me.

  "You know, you have the prettiest eyes, kind of sad when you look closely but that doesn't mean I wouldn’t put them in a jar to keep. Hey, how many kids do you want? I want at least ten if that's good with you? Oh, look at the time, sunshine! Time to get your delicious ass out of bed and ready for school." He chuckles at my shocked expression before bending down to nip at my neck, making my pulse jump wildly under the small touch.

  I'm still laying in a daze, not sure what just happened but he's at the door suddenly, looking back at me with my messy bed head and breathing like I just went for a run. My brows draw together in confusion when he reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out a small stuffed unicorn.

  "I'd be careful where you step, Tillie. Even the brightest things in this life dull after some time." He stares down at the stuffed animal with blond brows wrinkled together before flashing me a wink and leaving my room.

  "What the ever loving fuck just happened?" I ask out loud and don't get a response, of course.

  With a groan, I drag myself out of bed and make my way across the room towards the vanity table and see an outfit laid out for me. Did he just decide my clothes for the day? I mean he has good taste, he picked out something that fits my mood perfectly this morning. Anxiety is riding me hard today, the thought of going to a new school and I'm terrified that if I step outside in the daylight that Cruz will show up out of nowhere and steal me back to hell. I know that I've put miles between him and me, but it still makes my heart pound and my palms sweaty.

  Staring at my drained reflection in the mirror of the vanity, I lean forward to look myself in the eye.

  You’re a bad bitch and you fucking got this.

  Does the pep talk help? Sure, but does it make the fear go away? Hell no! But it does get me moving to start getting ready.

  Throwing off my sleep shorts and tank top, I pick up the red thong that goes great against my tan skin and can't help the giggle that leaves my mouth. Tey really is too much but what he doesn't know is that I live for the scandalous lingerie to give me a boost of confidence. Slipping them on with the matching bra, I shimmy my hips into a pair of black ripped, skinny jeans and a black tank top that hugs the girls for support. Brushing out my hair that has an edge of dark purple, I slip it into a high ponytail, and coat my lips in gloss, calling it a day. My reflection shows a girl who is makeup free, natural tan skin glowing, and bright brown eyes with long lashes. I can be me without having to hide behind a mask anymore. It's all I ever wanted and I'll be damned if I have to take a step back when I could be running forward instead.

  With a grin, I swipe my new expensive leather jacket off the dresser, it slips through my arms like butter, and I slip my feet into my black docs. Perfect. I'm ready to be the new me and it feels good. My stomach is still tied up in knots but I've been through worse than high school. Only six more months and I'll be done, to do whatever I want, finally free. I swing the door open and am not looking where I'm going as I grumble under my breath about needing to stop hiding when I slam into a brick wall. The brick wall that just so happens to be Logan's firm chest. Biting my lip, I peek up at him from under my lashes to see his nostrils flaring and his honeyed eyes glaring down at me.

  "Don't have all day to wait on you, baby girl. We leave in five so hurry your ass up," he growls and practically shoves me out of the way causing me to stumble over my own feet.

  You know that pep talk about starting new and not taking any shit. It starts right the fuck now.

  "Whatever you say, dearest brother," I say sickly sweet while fluttering my lashes. He whips around with narrowed eyes and before I know what's happening, his hand is pulling on my ponytail, and he slams his lips down on mine in a punishing, harsh kiss. I swear I taste blood in my mouth from when our teeth clashed together. Why does this send a thrill through me? It's hard and demanding but oddly gentle from his big hand sliding slowly down my spine to grip my ass cheek.

  "That's stepbrother to you. Know your place, Tillie." His voice is husky and forceful but the growing evidence against my hip tells me all I need to know.

  "And where is my place?" I ask, narrowing my eyes up at him when he smirks, a dimple appearing in his cheek.

  "On your knees," he says darkly and pushes me away which causes me to trip over my feet once again and I catch myself at the last second before landing on my ass.

  Grinding my teeth together, I watch his broad shoulders disappear down the stairs and curse at how my stomach flutters.

  "We'll see who ends up on their knees," I whisper.

  The white BMW i8 vibrates under my ass and it takes everything inside of me to not moan, my nails digging into my thighs but I don't think it escapes Tey's notice as he twirls a lock of my hair from the seat behind me with a chuckle. Why did they make me sit in the passenger seat? It's as if they knew this car would have me drooling and my panties soaked. I can't help it, it's in my blood to appreciate things that are worthy and this car is... the perfect racing car. Wonder if I could sneak it out sometime for a ride without Logan finding out?

  Twenty minutes of pure torture and I'm almost happy when we reach the school parking lot. A Ducati Panigale V4 motorcycle pulls in right beside us, nearly making my eyes pop out of my head. My fingers twitch to get out and steal that bike for a joy ride because those babies are fast, real fucking fast. The rider looks directly at me through the tinted window before sliding off his helmet. I should have guessed it was Nicky. Grey dress pants mold to his muscular thighs as he swings his legs over the seat and a white button down does wonders for his arms with his sleeves rolled up. Two words: arm porn. Colorful sleeve tattoos cover both of his arms, and I want to get closer to discover every inked inch of him. Nicky walks to the front of the car and waits, he almost looks bored but I can see the watchful way he glances around. Seeing the population of high school kids, talking to friends, on their phones, and dressed in designer clothes… it all makes me feel like I belong in the trash because I don’t fit in here. Welcome to Beverly Hills High, where the rich and famous flash money like it’s nothing. Logan clears his throat as he turns off the car, twisting in his seat to look me over before glancing at Tey with a raised brow.

  "Dalton is waiting for you in classroom 315 to give you the grand tour. Stay out of the spotlight, don't get in our way, and be a good girl." Logan smirks like the ass he is and climbs out of the car without another glance back at me
as he makes his way across the packed parking lot.

  Damn him. Heads turn as he walks by, guys nodding in that weird way but eye him cautiously at the same time. Girls adjust their already short tops so they lay a little lower and flutter their fake lashes. Fake tans, bottle hair dye, and high heels pretty much describe the girls in a California high school. Logan is surrounded in seconds with an easy grin and throwing an arm over some blonde, big breasted chick. Jealousy flares in my stomach, catching me off guard because I've never, ever had this feeling for a guy before. At least Nicky just walks by his friend's side, all cool and collected, pushing away any girl that slides up to him. Why do I care? I don’t know or own these guys. They’re all assholes.

  "There, there, little dove, don't take it so personally. Lo jumps from girl to girl. Let's get you inside because I have shit to do," Tey says, hopping out and opening the door for me while pulling a joint from his pocket and lighting up without a care in the world.

  Guess the rules don't apply to these guys.

  I take a deep breath and follow a high Tey towards the school double doors, ignoring the curious glances shooting our way. If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over by now. Way too many girls are glaring at me as if I stole their favorite lipstick. I straighten my spine and walk with my head held high, I don’t owe these people anything.

  I almost lose Tey in the crowd of teenagers hanging by their lockers, shuffling in the tight hallways towards their morning classes before the bell rings. I hate the stares, the leer from the guys as I move along with the student body. It feels like walls are closing in around me as the panic starts to set in. Loud male laughter rings out as my gaze flickers around, drawing my attention to a group of jocks at the end of the hall surrounding a locker. Three sets of male eyes are on me, like a pack of animals at a watering hole. One in particular jock with red hair in a jersey slides his slimy brown gaze up and down my body with a cocky grin. Tall, muscular, and a guy who thinks women belong on their knees, a typical school bully jock. I know men like him ooze confidence because they think a woman will never say no to them, I'm the new meat in their territory.

  Shit.

  A muscular chest and broad shoulders covered in a soft cotton black t-shirt blocks the jocks’ view as a wave of dizziness comes over me. A single finger tilts my chin up, making me look into arctic ocean eyes.

  "It's a playground of wild, horny animals. Vicious and deadly. Welcome to Beverly Hills High," Tey mutters with a lazy grin, his bright blonde hair falling over his eyes, hiding that all too knowing gaze from me.

  "You’re really fucking crazy aren't you?" I eye him with a raised brow, seeing so much he tries to hide behind the weed, the loneliness.

  I don't think anyone really knows the real Tey and lucky me is seeing his true colors that are hidden behind a mask I want to peel off his perfect face.

  "Only the craziest, baby," he whispers so only I can hear and leans forward, skimming his nose along my neck with a deep inhale before stepping back. "See you later, starfish. Room 315. Dalton has your schedule." He turns away, leaving me to find the fucking class alone and the Hell’s Angels son, aka Dalton.

  Without him invading my space, it's like a bubble popped and the noise returns. The mutters and bangs of lockers almost make me jump, forgetting for a second that we were standing in the middle of the crowded hall while classmates walk by staring. I shake my head at his retreating back and the silliness of the nicknames he’s been using for me. I kind of like them. They’re not as annoying and I look forward to seeing what other ridiculous nicknames he will come up with.

  Glancing around, I swear under my breath, noticing every goddamn person is gawking at me like I’m a freaking leper. A lanky, nerdy guy with a Star Wars shirt hanging loose on him, walks by with his head down as he clenches his bookbag strap in a death grip and pushes his glasses up his nose.

  Perfect. I don’t need another towering, all ripped muscles jerk over my shoulder, and he looks nice enough.

  “Hey!” He jumps at my overly excited outburst and jerks his head up, looking behind him left and right to see if I’m talking to him.

  “Me?” He asks softly, all shy, his hazel eyes big behind his glasses.

  “Yeah, you. Do you mind pointing me in the direction of room 315?” I ask, pulling him out of the way by the strap of his bag as one of those ass jocks walk by, about to bump into him.

  “Watch where you’re going freak.” The douche jock sneers, both of us choosing to ignore him.

  “S-sure, it’s uh, on the second floor. I’ll um, walk you there if you’d like?” I actually find his blush adorable and the slight stutter.

  I just really want to hug the guy, which by the way, I’m not a hugger of any type but he feels safe. He doesn’t look like he wants anything from me but maybe friendship. He hasn’t once stepped into my space or looked at my body.

  Dear God, is it possible for me to have a male friend?

  “That would be great! I’m Tillie.” I smile softly, just staring directly at him and raise an eyebrow as he continues to stand there, pushing those big glasses up his nose nervously.

  “Oh, yeah, I’m Evan. Let’s go before I’m uh, late for physics.” He practically squeaks and turns on his converse in the opposite direction.

  I follow by his side, noticing how empty the halls are becoming, and dreading the whole new girl act. I’ll cut someone if they make me stand in front of the class to tell my life story. I don’t care if I’m starting in the middle of the school quarter, my story is my own.

  “Listen, you might not want to be caught walking with me again unless you want to be thrown in a locker, a toilet swirl, or tossed into the dumpster after school. Here’s the class, it was nice, um, meeting you,” he says nervously, looking away in embarrassment until he notices that I haven’t said a thing, and glances back at me with a confused expression.

  The hallways are clear of moving bodies as we stand outside of the closed door of classroom 315. I’m about to do something scary, so unlike me, that it catches me off guard. Quicker than he can react, I grab his shoulders and hug him like a favorite stuffed animal. His surprised squeak makes me giggle and I know I’ve hit my limit when my body stiffens as a memory tries to break through. I release him and keep my hands on his shoulders so he looks me in the eye.

  “We’re going to be the best of friends. Thank you for being so kind, and I’ll look for you at lunch so we can see what classes we have together. Save me a seat.” His mouth drops open and I have to bite my lip to hold my laughter inside.

  He stands there, nodding his head like a bobblehead and I have to turn him around, giving him a small push to get him moving. Shaking my head once he’s gone, I face the classroom, my nails biting into my fist because I’m not sure how I’m going to react with another biker from a different club on the other side of this door.

  With a deep breath, I grab the handle and throw the door open before I lose my nerve but stop cold at what greets my eyes. My body won’t move, I’m half in the doorway staring at the big muscled giant. Dalton, I’m assuming. He looks like the cocky type. I swear the guy is at least seven feet tall, twinkling violet eyes staring unblinking into mine as he leans back against the teacher’s desk. Black hair shaved on the side but longer hair slicked back on the top of his head, his skin a beautiful, rich, light brown that makes his eyes hypnotizing. Everything about this guy is broad, big, and I’m pretty sure his muscles have muscles that make his black shirt and leather cut mold to his barrel chest. It’s the slow lopsided smile spreading across his face that makes my eyes narrow. The woman between his legs stopped me for a second but if he thought this sight would scare me away or shock me, he’s completely wrong. Not even when he makes the older woman, who has to be the teacher, keep bobbing her head. What is with these guys who think they can walk all over me, control me with the power they obviously have over everyone else but me?

  Challenge accepted fucker.

  Stepping into the room, I slam th
e door shut behind me loudly, trying not to smile as the woman jumps and is about to turn around but his big hand holds her in place on the back of her neck. If this is Dalton, I’m not impressed, time to show these asses that a girl who’s been through things worse than death can rise from the ashes. I stalk forward on quiet feet without showing any emotions on my face.

  Game on.

  Dalton

  My eyes keep flickering towards the door, growing impatient as the seconds tick by. Where the hell is this bitch? At least I have the eager redhead between my legs, slurping around my cock like a hoover vacuum cleaner while making these loud but annoying porn moans. Mrs. Sullivan has been after me for months, the thirty year old history teacher always wearing skin tight skirts and blouses with a few buttons undone each time I walk into her classroom. The coy glances, the little touches, and small smiles that are thrown my way were all the cues I needed to get her on her knees. Not really my type but the woman acts like she is in heat, wanting to feel younger by being with a younger guy. I saw this opportunity as a perfect time to shock the bitch. When the guys came racing into the club last night with news of a little guest at the most suspicious timing, we decided to keep her in line by making sure she knows who's in charge. I was game without even meeting her, no one messes with my family.

  I’m a biker, born into this life with a loud fucking cry right out of the womb that even had the doctor scared to smack my ass. I’ve shown my loyalty plenty of times with blood for Hell’s Angels. My best friends may not be part of the club but they’ve had my back since we were kids. Hell, they’ve helped me bury a body or two without any questions, that’s what family does for you. Knowing that this Tillie chick is from the fucking Jokers club, makes me blind with rage. Those scums have no morals, rules go flying out the window with our rivals. I may be a criminal but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a code to follow. The plan with the bitch is to make her every living moment miserable, to get her to confess why she’s here. I swear if she’s here to spy on us, I’ll choke her, and dump her in acid so that no one can ever find her.