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

by Belladona Cunning

  My eyes latch onto Mr. T’s storm-filled gaze. Where there wasn’t a hair out of place before, there is now. He looks like he’s been in the octagon with a prized cage fighter. Seething hatred spews from him as my knees grow weak at his words, “You won’t get away with this, little girl. I promise you that.”

  The sound of chairs falling echo around inside my head. I can hear my blood pumping through my veins in my ears. Bits and pieces of memories shift into place, but still, feel discombobulated. I can see my house that night, but then it quickly shifts to a memory of us in this office. It’s too fast for me to connect to, as if there are wires inside my mind mending back together.

  But it all feels wrong somehow, like it’s being forced. But clear as day, I see him over me, fierce hunger on his face. Everything around him is blurred, so much so, I can’t make it out. But I see him, and that’s all I need to see.

  No. I-It can’t be.

  “It’s you!”

  CHAPTER 22

  My entire body is shaking, like I’ve been outside in zero-degree weather for days. It may be closing in on February, but my coldness isn’t because of the weather. It’s because of my mind being numb to everything around me. No matter how bad I want to get myself together, all I can keep envisioning is Mr. T calling me by that disgusting nickname and the wrong memories that flashed through my mind.

  Even after all this time, they still feel wrong. Forced. And I can’t understand why.

  Also, no one calls me that. Not even the guys or my father.

  “We need to get her warmed up,” I hear Ellis say through the fog in my mind.

  “She’s in shock,” Quinn says, and I vaguely feel arms wrap around me as they pull me into their lap.

  We’ve been at the police station for the past few hours, waiting for them to set Callum free. We all know that will not happen unless his father gets here, bringing his team of bloodthirsty lawyers with him.

  I wonder what’s taking him so long? If they arrested my son for possible assault, I would be here with bells and whistles on. At least, if I could ever break myself out of this dense cloud of shame, anger, and void, I would. But I’m so numb and shook up. The doctors said something like this could happen. Something could trigger a memory. But they never said that it would feel this wrong. Disgusting.

  “Did you hear what he called her?” Asher asks, his soft voice brings tears to my eyes.

  Of course, they heard what Mr. T called me. It was hard not to. It was the same thing the person who raped me all those years ago, and what my stalker, likes to taunt me with. It doesn’t matter what the point of contact is, it’s always the same.

  I’m his little girl, and he’s nothing but the monster that lurks in my nightmares.

  A sob catches in my throat, making—what I know now is Quinn—tighten his arms around me. Cops mill around the precinct, all of them shooting various looks of unease toward us. I probably look like a person who escaped an insane asylum, with my hair in all manners of disarray as this blank stare clings to my eyes.

  “Baby girl?” More tears burn my eyes, but before I can try to break myself out of this haze, two familiar, identical eyes, search mine with worry.

  A small, stark ball of warmth exudes inside my chest. It’s slow, almost hesitant in acting. “D-Daddy,” I hiccup on a sob.

  “Oh, baby girl!” He chokes out.

  He pulls me from Quinn’s arms, wrapping me in a tight hug. My legs are still weak, so I have to put all my weight on him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, because he holds me against him and sways me back and forth. I cry softly into his button up, disregarding the fact I’m making a complete mess of him in front of everyone. Having my guys beside me are good, but it’s nothing like being in my father’s arms. Feeling his strength envelop me.

  “I heard you had a run in with Derrick,” he whispers.

  Pulling my face back, I shake my head. “No. Not Mr. Bexley. Mr. T, Daddy, it’s him.”

  He cranes his head to the side, confusion littering his features. “I don’t know what Mr. Bexley has to do with this, baby girl, but that’s Mr. Thompson’s name, too. Two different spellings, but essentially the same name. Thompson spells his name with two R’s and an ‘i-c-k.’ Bexley spells his name with an ‘e-r-e-k.’”

  “N-No, it isn’t. You must be mistaken. Mr. Thompson’s name is Mitchell.” I’m more alert now, pulling away from him. I stare back toward Quinn, Asher, and Ellis. All three have the same looks gracing their gorgeous faces.

  My father gives me a funny look. But before he can say anything, Asher buts in. “Mr. Savoy, are you sure? Mr. Thompson goes by Mitchell to the adults and faculty.”

  My father nods, then grits out. “I can assure you; his name is Derrick not fucking Mitchell. The reason I know this is because he is the same goddamn asshole that was sleeping with Jessalyn’s mother, trying to help her steal my portion of the company away from me. Trust me, I’m not wrong. She was always speaking in hushed tones about some Derek person.”

  His name is Derrick? The same person she was on the phone with that day. Mr. T was sleeping with Debra? Oh, my God. Rancid saliva coats my throat. That’s disgusting. The churning sensation in my stomach rises to a full-blown tornado. Putting a hand in front of my mouth, I race toward the nearest trashcan, emptying the contents of my stomach into its cavernous depths.

  “Jess.” I hear and feel Asher come up beside me, his hands lightly rubbing along my back.

  He doesn’t get it. I slept with the same guy who was sleeping with Debra. He was putting his cock inside her, while he was … another wave of nausea hits me. My fingers grip the edge of the trashcan as I heave what little lunch the guys wrestled up for me inside.

  “Asher,” I say shakily. “We need to tell them. Now. It can’t wait.”

  “What is she talking about?” My father asks, coming to a stop beside us.

  I lift my eyes to Asher’s, giving him permission to explain what we found. It’s long overdue. It should have been explained the day we found it, instead of waiting so long. It’s been almost three weeks since Asher and I found that stuff in Debra’s attic. That’s three weeks of silence too long.

  “We believe Debra had something to do with Jessalyn’s accident two years ago.” When my father goes to interrupt him, Asher continues, “No, Mr. Savoy. We found this old chair in Debra’s attic. When Jessalyn sat down in it, we thought she might have hurt herself, but upon closer inspection, we found it wasn’t a seat at all.”

  My father nods. “Yes, I know which one you’re talking about.”

  “When we opened it, we found disturbing, and downright disgusting things inside. Debra has been in contact with a guy that goes by D. He doesn’t have a name on the contact, but we saw pictures of that night. Gruesome, horrible pictures. Then, we saw the contract.”

  “What contract, Ash?” Quinn growls.

  I bring my head out of the trashcan long enough to pin him with a blank stare. “Debra hired someone to rape me.“ I stop, shaking my head as a sad laugh escapes. “No, I’m saying that incorrectly.”

  “She hired someone to kill her, but the bastard couldn’t do it,” Asher finishes. “There are so many printed papers between them through an encrypted server. I know it sounds high tech and insane, but it’s true.” He peers up at my father, stone faced. “Your wife wanted to kill Jessalyn, then you, so she could take over your portion of the company. So, if what you’re saying is correct, then Derrick or Derek, or whatever his name is, is the person who raped Jessalyn.”

  I was in a room alone with that guy, time after time. He didn’t feel familiar to me in any way. You’d think, even with my memories fractured from that night, that I could remember his touch. Of course, then, I didn’t know what to search for. Now, it just makes me feel sick at the thought.

  His hands have been all over my body. Willingly. Yes, I made up that ruse in his office as a bit of payback, but I didn’t know then what I know now. Mr. Thompson is the guy that turned my entire life upside
down.

  Then something dawns on me.

  “Oh, my God.” I close my eyes tight, trying to burn the memory out of my head. “I should have known.”

  “Known what?” Ellis asks hesitantly.

  Opening my eyes, I stare at all four of them. “About Thompson.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  I swallow hard. “He told me, several times, about how he and his son had to move. That they had to “ghost” themselves all because his son had an affair with a teacher, and it gave their family a bad rep. I should have seen through that. He didn’t leave his town because of that. He didn’t even leave his town because of a son. He came here because Debra contacted him when I was twelve. He made the rest of it up to get close to me.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Quinn hisses under his breath. He stalks off, running his fingers through his hair. I can see the wheels spinning around in his mind, and I’d hate to think what’s going through his tortured depths.

  Coach Rice is here. Mr. T is here. Callum is here.

  And if everything is lining up, I’m not even sure Coach Rice should be here. I definitely know Callum shouldn’t.

  At that moment, the door to the precinct bursts open. Chaos ensues as Callum’s father storms in, and just how I predicted, with a stream of lawyers standing behind him. His eyes case the place, and when he sees us standing over by the trash bin, he holds his hand for his lawyers to stay put while he makes his way over toward us.

  Without warning, he sweeps me up into his arms. I’m shocked silent, my eyes widening as they take in my guys equally confused expressions. “I just want to say thank you for what you did. I know he wasn’t there for you, but you were there for him. I appreciate it.”

  Understanding rises, and I shoot my father daggers for eyes. He has the gall to appear sheepish as he shifts from foot to foot.

  “No problem, Mr. L. Anytime.”

  He pulls back with a sad smile. “He—They’re all very lucky to have you.”

  Shoot. Me. Now. Not that I’m embarrassed to be with the guys, but everyone seems to know. Yes, we weren’t exactly discreet, but I thought we were hiding it from our parents a lot better than we were.

  Then, it hits me. It’s like one blindside after another. The only parent that knew all of us were together is the man that gave his sperm for my existence.

  “Dad!” I cry out. “How much have you told him?”

  Callum’s father smirks. “We’re business partners, honey. We tell each other everything. It’s the only way to conduct a successful business.”

  “It is what it is, baby girl.”

  Rolling my eyes, Callum’s father steps away and straightens his suit jacket. It’s a move that screams “man on a mission,” and one that knows he will get his way. With that many lawyers behind him, it won’t be too long before we see Callum walk out through those doors a free man.

  Honestly, I can’t wait. I want to wrap my arms around him and soak up all his manliness. Yes, I have three guys out here with me, but I could use Callum’s touch. It will go a lot further at calming me than anything else.

  “Asher,” my father says, pulling our gazes toward him. “Is there any way you can get your hands on those documents? I don’t know what we can do with them, but I’d like to see them for myself.”

  Asher nods before breaking away from the group. He wouldn’t allow me to take any of it with me when we grabbed it from Debra’s, so he took it home with him to hide in a safe place. He gives me a kiss before setting off out of the precinct.

  It may not give us any concrete evidence on my rape, since I did not report the crime to the police. But, hopefully, that’s where my recordings will come in handy. It will show that Mr. T was with me while I was a minor, and with me being a student as well, his time at Silver Creek is over.

  Hope. Goddammit, I hate depending on anything other than facts.

  Breathing deeply, I observe the precinct. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me. Feel their pity. To them, I’m the girl that saw her mother butchered in her bed. I’m the girl that cried “rape” in her principal’s office only a few hours ago. It doesn’t matter that said asshole did rape me all those years ago, because now, he’s an upstanding citizen of Silver Creek. He’s the best principal this town has ever seen, and I can feel all the police force judging me, hating me—some maybe even feel sorry for me.

  No one needs to feel sorry for me when it comes to that, but they should help me when it comes to the person hellbent on stalking me, to the person who raped me at the end of freshman year. That very person is still in this precinct, being detained because of my allegation.

  It’s where he needs to stay, too. Only a deranged psychopath would take a girl against their will in exchange for money, then turn around and start fucking that person’s pathetic excuse for a mother. I mean, who fucking does that?

  Derrick Thompson was contracted when I was twelve, if the paperwork is correct. That means he was watching me for three years before he did anything about it. And when he did, he didn’t do what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to kill me and leave me for dead. He was supposed to watch the life drain from my young, terrified eyes as he stole each breath of air from my lungs. But he didn’t. He took something else from me instead.

  He was meant to do a plethora of things, but his obsession grew to unseemly amounts. Honestly, I don’t see it. Why would anyone obsess over a person like me? I’m insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

  Even if he wiggled his way into my life on a more permanent basis, he still would receive nothing. The Empire is in our fathers names. They are the five leaders that own, run, and will eventually hand over the company. Even if Debra and his plan came to fruition, it still wouldn’t fall to her. My guys’ fathers would have never allowed it.

  So, none of this makes a bit of sense.

  I feel so idiotic for not seeing it before, though. His pathetic attempt at wiggling his way into my inner circle. Well, he would have never gotten there. Since that night, my circle fell to one, maybe two people, before the guys showed up. Karma and my father.

  I may have allowed him into my body, as disgusting as it is, but he would have never got my soul. I’d die a thousand deaths before I allowed that to happen.

  CHAPTER 23

  For hours, we all stretch out in the front lobby of the precinct. Ellis has made it his plight to make sure we’re caffeinated and energized when Callum walks through those doors so we can get the details of what went down.

  However, with each minute that passes, the more something feels off. There’s a chaotic energy surrounding us. It’s been that way ever since Asher left to go back to his place. It’s hard to explain, and I fight within myself not to focus on it, but something tells me I need to call him. That I need to hear his voice and make sure he’s all right.

  Asher should have been back by now. His house is only about fifteen minutes away, and it’s going on two hours since we last saw him. Even if he had to go through a shit ton of security he’d set up in his room, he should still be here.

  Glancing over at Ellis, I bite my lip nervously. “Have you heard from Asher?”

  He shakes his head.

  “Have you?” I turn to Quinn.

  With sad eyes, he shakes his head, then crosses his arms over his chest as he slumps in his seat with a sigh.

  My foot nervously taps on the stained carpet, jostling my entire body as I fight to get out of my head. Everything is okay. Asher’s just being Asher and he’s taking his time, like he does with most things. He wants to be thorough, make sure he misses nothing before he comes back.

  Yeah, that’s all it is. Nothing is wrong. Nothing.

  “Baby girl,” My eyes lift to my father’s, seeing a look of understanding in his eyes. “Why don’t you call him? We’re all here. Everything is fine. You could step outside, and I’m sure you’d feel better afterward.”

  He’s right. Logically, I know. But that still doesn’t make the knot in my stomach disperse.
If anything, it makes it clench that much tighter.

  “Are you sure?”

  He nods. “If Callum comes out before you get back inside, I’ll tell him where you are.”

  Retrieving my phone, I stand up. Quinn and Ellis do the same, but my father is quick to shake his head, silently telling them both to give me a moment. I love my guys, I truly do, but my father is right. I don’t need them hovering over me while I’m silently trying to keep it together. I need air, and to hear Asher’s voice.

  “I’ll be right outside, okay?” I whisper. They both want to say something, but they finally give in and nod their heads in acceptance.

  That doesn’t stop them from watching me while I make my way outside, though. Their eyes follow me like they’re a predator watching over its prey, and I have to say that makes me feel just the tiniest bit better.

  They know when I need space and they say nothing about it. They’re protective, but not overtly so.

  I give them both a timid smile before pushing open the door that leads outside. A gasp races from my chest and out of my mouth, as the chilling wintery air circles around me. Pulling my jacket tighter around me, I settle against the wall and start thumbing through my contacts.

  It’s just become dusk, but it feels like it’s in the middle of the night with its freezing temperatures. My hands are numb within minutes, teeth chattering while I find Asher’s number and press call.

  Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. My brows slant inward when after the final ring, it changes over to the voicemail. Except, his voicemail isn’t what it used to be. Now, it’s a bunch of jumbled letters, then three sets of phrases that mean absolutely nothing to me.

  Rolling my eyes, I laugh at the absurdity of Asher and try once more. I have known him to play pranks, and his timing isn’t always the best.