Love Me, Baby: A High School Bully Romance (Silver Creek High Book 3)

by Belladona Cunning

  “Do you know where you are, Jessalyn?” My eyes drop to the left breast of his clinical coat. Dr. Stephens. I slowly melt in Ellis’ arms, finally realizing this is a doctor that works here.

  Swallowing hard, I peer up at him. “I’m in a hospital, but I don’t know why.”

  My eyes burn with unshed tears as a hollowness I can’t explain tries to spread through me. My eyes drift toward the door, but then just as quickly, they come back to rest on Dr. Stephens. I feel Ellis' hands marginally tighten on my shoulders, offering me silent comfort I didn’t even know I needed.

  “You had a bad accident,” Dr. Stephens explains. “Can you tell me the last thing you remember?”

  I settle myself on the bed, my eyes dropping to my lap. I take comfort when Ellis slides his hand down to mine, rubbing his thumb along the inner part of my wrist. My brows slant in concentration, but still, the only thing coming to mind is the guys dropping me off at home.

  “We just left my dad’s party.” My eyes narrow as I try to piece together the scene in my head. “I sent the guys to their houses, because they needed to go take care of a few things. Afterward, I walked into the house … then—”

  Visible frustration envelops my body when I try to remember, but to no avail, cannot. It’s like I have this huge piece missing in my mind; like a broken record player or a piece of cinema tape cut clear through the middle.

  My eyes hesitantly rise to meet Dr. Stephens. “I can’t remember anything else.” Tears fill my eyes, and even Ellis’ shushing and consoling isn’t enough to make it go away.

  “Your father is right outside. Do you want to see him?”

  I nod before I can even get the words out of my mouth. “Yes, please.”

  Dr. Stephens’ glances over his shoulder at one of the charge nurses, then nods. I watch, mutely, as she walks over toward the door and opens it, calling out for my father.

  However, the moment I catch three sets of eyes peering in the door, pinning me to the spot—eyes filled with so much anguish and sadness—I break down. Ellis shoots down to console me, peppering chaste, open mouth kisses along the side of my face. The door slams open, banging against the wall, as shoes squeak and slide over the floor. Tears slide down my face in rapid succession, the pain almost engulfing me until I’m nothing more than a ball of suffering.

  Anything can hurt me over and over and I’d be just fine, but to see their faces like that, knowing I’m the cause, I can’t handle it.

  “It’s okay, little mouse,” Callum soothes, kneeling beside my bed.

  “We got you, babe,” Asher huskily whispers, and I cry even harder when I see tears filling his eyes.

  Sob after sob rakes my frame, and I shudder and tremble in the guy's arms. I feel so loved, yet so alone at the same time. It makes no sense, but the feelings coursing through my veins is almost more than I can bear.

  My swollen tear-filled eyes rise to the last guy standing next to my bed. He’s been silent since they rushed inside, but I could really use his soothing, gravelly voice. I want to feel him wrap his arms around me, like he did when he chased my demons away that day in the bathroom at school.

  “Quinn?” I choke out.

  He’s by my side in an instant, Ellis moving out of the way, albeit grudgingly. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Hold me,” I whisper, tears clogging my voice of emotion.

  When I feel his strong, warm arms wrap around me, I can’t help but to release all my pain into the front of his Henley. Tears wet the front of his shirt, and it’s like he doesn’t even care. He simply holds me to his chest, cooing sweet nothings into my ear. His voice is like a soothing balm to my soul; the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place.

  “Sweetheart, we will find who did this,” Quinn says, causing a shudder to race through me by the vehemence in his voice. “And we will make them pay. The only thing that will take you away from us is you, and I’ll be damned if another motherfucker tries to get in the way of us again.”

  My four guys. They were my tormentors, my bullies—but now, they’re my saviors.

  And Quinn’s words—I felt them plumb down to the marrow of my bones. It was a fierce promise. A promise they all intend to keep.

  I just didn’t know how far that would be, and wouldn’t, until the dam broke open and they told me everything. Now, I’m terrified to even ponder it all.

  Many secrets carry consequences when you learn the truth, and I may not be strong enough to survive the repercussions.

  CHAPTER 4

  The moment we pull up in front of my father’s estate, our silence turns into utter chaos. There are news vans spanning as far as the eye can see. People jump from the confines of their vehicles, racing toward us, at the first sight of my father’s luxury car.

  My heart rises into my throat as I watch them, seeing the hunger in their eyes. They want a piece of me, a piece of the Savoy name. And they don’t care what they have to do to get it, like ambushing us as we arrive from the hospital.

  My stomach knots over seeing all the cameras and microphones at the ready. The people on the other side of the lens have gleeful, hungry expressions. They all start blurring together as more and more people crowd around the car. They remind me of sharks picking up the scent of blood in a raging ocean. And what they’re screaming causes my stomach to lurch with sickness.

  “What happened the night your mother died?”

  “Did you plan her murder?”

  “Did your father have anything to do with this?”

  “Is this all connected to your father's sudden absence?”

  “Why did you do it, Ms. Savoy?”

  “Who helped you kill your mother?”

  Over and over, I keep hearing the same thing just different versions. So much so, it nearly makes my ears bleed. People believe I had something to do with Debra's death. I thought the whispers and snickers behind my back as we were leaving the hospital held no merit. Now, I’m not so sure. Everyone probably thinks I killed my mother in a fit of rage. It almost nauseates me more than the vultures scratching and screaming at my window.

  The hospital must have alerted the media of my release. I’m simply surprised they didn’t meet us at the doors of the hospital, shoving their questions down my throat, then. Silver Creek isn’t that big of a town, and when something like this happens, everyone has to get a piece of the story. I just don’t know what they want me to tell them. All I know is, I had nothing to do with Debra’s murder. My father didn’t, either.

  “Ms. Savoy, Ms. Savoy!” A rather deep, mannish voice rages out. “Tell us at SCJ why you ended your mother’s life? Were you jealous of her?”

  If I wasn’t on a strict gag-order from my father’s lawyers, I’d tell them all the truth. I simply don’t remember what happened. His lawyers swept into the room at the hospital, demanding we tell them everything that was going on. I could tell from the moment I saw them they were in their element. Unfortunately, I had nothing for them. It took my father and all four guys to shush them, because they exploded into a flurry of activity and harsh comments when I said that. They were glaring at me, probably already seeing guilt.

  Does it sadden me someone murdered her because of me? It might make me a sick bitch, but no, I’m not sad Debra is pushing up daisies. I may need to question my morals, but it is what it is. Debra was nothing but an abusive, narcissistic bitch. She cared about no one but herself, and when she didn’t get what she wanted, she beat everyone into submission with thinly veiled threats of legal action or actual fists. But the fists were only for me, I’m sure.

  So, no, I’m not sad. I’m relieved, actually. The only thing I don’t like is the fact my father had to bury her in the Savoy family cemetery. The same cemetery in the woods behind my grandparent’s home. I’m sure they didn’t like that, either. Especially, since my father was in the middle of divorcing her.

  Tears burn my eyes and I sigh. “Is there any way we—”

  A startled cry slips out when a large hand smacks down on
my window, a mere two or three centimeters from my face. The window jars against my already injured head, causing the tears dancing in my eyes to fall. I pry myself away from the door, gently covering that side of my head as a steady ache ensues.

  My father growls under his breath, sliding across the seat and taking my head gently in his hands. He looks me over the same way he used to all those years ago when I got into accidents. He’d grab the Band-Aids, some cleansing ointment, and he’d bandage me up. All the while he made funny faces and had me laughing through my tears.

  Only, this time, I don’t think that will work. No amount of funny faces or imitations will make this better. Everything is falling apart.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, then curses under his breath as his eyes narrow in on something. Just then, I feel a liquid substance slide down the middle of my forehead. “Do not freak out, but your stitches are bleeding, baby girl.”

  “Bleeding?” I wheeze, choking on my spit. “I-I’m bleeding, but the doctor said—the doctor told us not to—”

  He puts his hands on my shoulders, his eyes ensnaring me, begging and pleading to calm down. It’s hard, but the longer I look into my father’s eyes, the calmer I become.

  He shoots a smile at me, whispering, “It will be just fine. I’ll call my doctor to come look at it and get everything straightened up, okay?”

  A ferocious yell breaks me out of our bubble. That sounded like …

  Turning around, my eyes widen in their sockets, almost to the point of popping out. I see Callum’s car parked sideways in the road cutting people off, and Quinn is holding the guy by the throat that slapped his hand against the window. His face is a mask of fury, causing a subtle shiver to race through me.

  There have been times I’ve seen him pissed, but there’s never been a time I have seen him this upset. He looks positively murderous.

  “If you touch that car again, I will cut whatever you touched it with off, you feel me?” Quinn looks demonic as he snarls at the sniveling man in his hands. He gives him a shake for good measure, whispering in a threatening voice when the reporter doesn’t reply, “Did I make myself clear?”

  “Y-Yeah.” The guy nods his head like he’s on uppers or something, peering into Quinn’s stormy gaze.

  When he shoves him away, he takes a menacing step toward the guy when all he can do is look back at Quinn in fear. His protectiveness has a small smile ghosting my lips, even through the pain rattling around in my skull.

  “They’re very protective,” my father surmises, and I nod in agreement. “Good. I’d have to kill them otherwise.”

  We share a grin with each other, my reluctant to his sadistic. After so long of being out of sync, it finally feels like we’re on the same page. Just another reason Debra is better off in Hell than she is in Silver Creek.

  But that doesn’t negate the fact that I’m uncertain if he’s being serious or just an overprotective father. I’d hate to think it was the former.

  Everything about him differs from the cuddly, loving, strong man I used to know.

  My father is silent a moment, his eyes unseeing as he peers out of the car. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you when we get to our home. I assured the doctors you would rest, but this is very important.”

  Scrunching up my brows, I regard him with a quizzical look. Since I woke up in the hospital a few days ago, he’s been a little standoffish, almost unreachable. Yes, of course, he’s been there every step of the way, but there’s something about his actions that scream distance and trouble. It’s like he has this big bomb to drop and he doesn’t know how he will do it.

  Well, if he does, then he needs to rip it off like a Band-Aid, that way it’s as pain free as possible.

  Nodding my head, I don’t offer him anything else as we make our way past the gates. Within moments, I hear Callum’s muscle car start, and even the sound of him revving the motor doesn’t make me smile like it used to. There is a sense of foreboding that accompanies it.

  Biting my bottom lip, I turn my attention back to my father. “Is it anything bad?”

  I can see him weighing his options. His head slightly tilts back and forth, mulling over it. “If you take it that way, yes. If not, then you’re perfectly fine.”

  How am I supposed to respond to that? I’ve been through Hell and back, and I honestly don’t know how much more I can take. My strength isn’t what it used to be. I feel like nothing more than a broken, fragile princess, even though the thought of that makes me sick inside. But it is what it is. I am weak. I am broken. Everyone will think I’m a pathetic, primly little princess that gets what she wants. And they’ll tack on the title of “murderer” even if I’m not responsible.

  Anyone that says it could or couldn’t be bad, definitely means that it’s terrible and it’s up to you to discern just how terrible the situation is. I may not remember the attack that took Debra’s life, but it’s still a stain on my soul. It’s creeping in the back of my mind every minute of the day, and more so when I close my eyes at night. I can’t remember the details, but I can recall the fear—the true soul crushing terror—I felt.

  It’s a fast trek to his—our—home, and before I know it, we’re both being whisked inside by his team of security. The guys quickly follow when Callum parks behind my father’s car. I spy them getting out of the vehicle, stretching long and hard, their movement causing their shirts to rise a few inches above their designer jeans.

  My body warms at the sight of their rock-hard stomachs and their perfectly groomed trail of hair that disappears into the top of their jeans. None of them are alike, but they all have one thing in common: their bodies are mouthwatering. Just the sight of them in their element, watching their level of confidence and swagger, is enough to block out the shit show I find myself in.

  “Jess,” Asher states, and I realize he caught me ogling them for far too long. He’s now standing in front of me, pushing back the hair from my face. “You’re bleeding.”

  Oh, shit. I raise my hand to the front of my head, feeling the thick, warm liquid on the tips of my fingers. Giving him a tight smile, I glance over at my father, who’s already on the phone speaking to someone in hushed tones. By the looks of things, he’s getting his way. There’s a pleased smile on his face, the area around his eyes crinkling with jovialness.

  When he hangs up the phone, he peers toward me. “The doctor should be here shortly.” Then, without another thought, he turns toward my guys, leveling then with a stern look. “Boys,” my father’s voice catches me off guard. It’s hard with no emotion. I jerk a little against my better judgement. “Jessalyn and I have some matters to discuss.”

  “We’ll come with you,” Callum speaks up, already making his way toward me.

  My father cuts off his advancement with a swift shake of his head. “That won’t be necessary. This is a discussion for her and I. It doesn’t include the four of you.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Savoy, we’re not leaving her side.” My father stares hard at Callum, his jaw ticking in irritation.

  Then, when he speaks, my jaw threatens to unhinge. “I don’t care what you five do on your own time. You can fuck for all I care, but right now, she needs to make her way to my office because there is business to discuss.”

  Four hungry sets of eyes land on mine, and I can’t fight the blush that burns my cheeks at the provocative thoughts running amuck in my mind. I know right now is not the time to think about doing something with them, because of what happened. I need to rest, recuperate, then maybe I’ll be able to get into things with them. But until then, we all need to keep it in our pants.

  Callum and the rest of them continue to look between my father and I, but all too soon, they nod their head in agreement. I know, even from this tiny display of assertiveness, that none of them like the thought of me being out of their sight. However, this is my father’s home, and it’s his way or the highway.

  “Jessalyn, let’s go to my office.”

  Followi
ng him, we’re closed up in his office a moment later. Then, before I can catch my breath, his strong hands wrap around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I startle, but just as quickly soak up his affections, reveling in the familiar scent of musk and old spice. He has all this money in the world, but he’s still a cheap brand man. That’s what I love about him. Even with this large house, butler, security team, and expensive car, he’s still the same person I grew up loving. Almost.

  His entire body trembles. “When I got that call, I thought I lost you.”

  “But I’m still here.”

  I know nothing I say will ever be enough. I also have no idea what emotions are tearing him up inside. Lord help what someone told him happened. From what they’ve informed me that happened, I fell from the second-story window. I shouldn’t even be here right now. But by the grace of some higher power, I still am.

  I just can’t decipher if it’s a virtuous or wicked omen.

  CHAPTER 5

  The sound of someone picking the lock on my French doors alerts me to a new presence. My hackles rise, but then the sweet scent of rich, decadent chocolate puts me at ease. Quinn must not like the rules my father set in place when we came out of his study. He may have said we could fuck and do whatever we want, but not under his roof. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, because as soon as I’m better and this storm blows over, I’m taking advantage of having four boyfriends.

  I’ve been lying here for hours, trying to fall asleep. It’s not working. Not after what my father told me, and the things he’s still alluding. I’ve been tossing and turning, rolling over our conversation in my head.

  Even after all these hours, I still can’t believe that’s why he started things with Whitney. It makes more sense to go after a woman that’s within Debra’s circle, instead of going after one that has no connection to her.

  So, what if they both worked at the same place, that changed nothing. Whitney could watch her from afar, but she would never get close enough to gleam any real information. And it literally eats me up inside that he’s still keeping something from me when it pertains to Whitney. It didn’t matter how many times I asked him, he’d divert the topic back to Whitney and Debra. He’s hiding something about Whitney, and I’m going to find it out.