Brutal Prince: A Dark Bully High School Romance

by Fox, Logan

  Maybe he had lessons when he was young. You know, in-between torturing animals, setting fires, and wetting his bed?

  But I jest. This shit’s fucking serious as hell, and I only wish I could form some kind of plan that didn’t involve a random meteorite crashing into the house.

  Even now, dancing a crazy waltz through the remnants of my home, I can feel how strong he is. How the muscles along his spine bunch as he moves. How tightly he grasps my hand. The sure-footedness of every step he takes.

  Bet you wish you had your switchblade now, don’t ya?

  Oh, you bet I do!

  Then again, I wish for many things right now. Like enough backbone to attempt to seduce him. I could do that. But every time I look up and see that vacant, dreamy look in his eyes, everything inside me shrivels up.

  Then all I can do is gently rest my head on his chest and wish myself the fuck away from this place.

  But dear God, it’s not a fuck working.

  It’s not working.

  * * *

  Briar

  I slam on the brakes when the signpost for Indi’s road comes into view. The car behind me streams past blaring its horn, and the driver even throws me a zap through his passenger-side window.

  No fucks given.

  I put my Mustang into gear, and cruise around the corner. My GPS tells me I’m a minute away from my destination before I turn her off with a stab of my thumb.

  I got this, Siri.

  I fucking got this.

  I’d wished more than anything that I’d taken the gun from that safe.

  Why the fuck didn’t I?

  Oh, right. Back then, I was still under the impression it was Addy blackmailing me.

  I don’t think I’ve ever felt this naive in my fucking life. This…duped.

  My best friend and I didn’t have a fucking clue. Is it because he was the only one that was ever there for me? The only one who ever insisted on protecting me, even when I didn’t need it?

  Doesn’t matter, of course. What’s done is done. I can’t change the past, I can only affect change in the present.

  And presently, I need Marcus’s head on a fucking spike.

  * * *

  Indi

  I hear footsteps the same time Marcus does. We both turn to the side. Briar’s standing on the threshold of what used to be the entrance hall of my house.

  He doesn’t look close to as pissed off as he did when he was standing in Addy’s living room. In fact, he looks a little taken aback. The flip my stomach just did ends in a fucking belly flop.

  What, you never seen a murderer waltzing around with his victim before, Briar?

  “Hey, man. What’s up?” Marcus releases me, dismisses me, abandons me. Then he’s striding up to Briar, a hand outstretched like Briar’s just arrived at the football game he’s streaming at his house. Late, but instantly forgiven since he brought his own six-pack of Bud.

  And instead of lunging forward, tackling him, and busting his head open on the soot-covered tiles of my living room floor…Briar shakes his motherfucking hand.

  “Long drive,” Briar says.

  My feet take root. My hands curl into fists.

  “Glad you could join us, bro,” Marcus says, completely oblivious to the fact that I’m sprinting toward him at full speed.

  Briar’s eyes go wide, and he barely manages one shake of his head.

  Then Marcus turns, catches me, spins me around.

  Are we waltzing again? Is this one of those flashy moves that will end with me sliding between his legs?

  Nope.

  This is Marcus anticipating my every fucking move like a goddamn assassin.

  We spin. He throws me away from him. Briar lunges toward him. And then there’s suddenly a gun involved in the situation.

  I’m on my ass on the floor, but I freeze just as much — if not more — than Briar does.

  Marcus makes a show of drawing back the hammer with his thumb.

  Briar lifts his hands.

  In that moment, I hate them both equally. Marcus for being a psychotic asshole, Briar for being a cowardly freak.

  Where’s the cinematic rough and tumble between besties? The well-aimed punch that has Marcus sliding over the tiles, stunning him just long enough to let Briar snatch up the gun?

  Nope. They just fucking stare at each other.

  Slowly, quietly, patiently, I get to my feet.

  Fuck this shit.

  I’m done being held against my will. I’m done with Marcus’s rapey threats.

  Done.

  Just fucking done.

  Lips peeling up into a snarl, I launch myself at Marcus.

  * * *

  Briar

  What the fuck is she thinking? What in the fuck is Indi fucking Virgo thinking?

  Wait. She’s not. This is all raw adrenaline, and the bone she has to pick with Marcus. I’m guessing she knows about her mom. I’m guessing he’s already toyed with her to the point of rousing that infernal fury I’m already so familiar with.

  There’s nothing left for her now but to dig herself out of an early grave. Guess she’s already given up all hope that I’ll be the one responsible for rescuing her from the tower, my virgin Rapunzel.

  So what then? I get to stand back and watch Marcus shred her apart?

  Not a fucking chance.

  But I don’t get a say in the matter, because when Marcus hears Indi getting closer, he turns and pistol whips her on the side of the head.

  I’m two steps closer before he swings back me, Indi crashing to the floor in the background with a yelp of pain that goes through me like an ephemeral whip crack.

  “Stop,” Marcus says with a shake of his head. “Just stop.”

  I lift my hands, and do as he says. Behind him, Indi groans and rolls onto her side. Looks as is if she’s trying to push herself up, but judging from the trickle of blood running down her face, Marcus got in a solid blow.

  “I had such fun shit planned for us,” Marcus says. My gaze flashes back to him, my mouth thinning into a grim line.

  Honest to God, he looks disappointed. Head shaking, his eyes sad. “I was gonna let you have her first, bro. To make up for Jess.”

  God, I want to charge him so bad. But I have no doubt in my mind that he’ll fire. He had no issues torturing Indi’s mother and then strangling her to death — what’s a bullet between friends?

  “Well, maybe some of this is still—” Marcus waves the gun around Indi’s burned-out house “—salvageable.”

  Doubt it. The living room’s completely caved in. There is a flight of stairs that look dodgy as shit, and only a quarter of the first floor remains.

  I’m pretty sure if this place weren’t a crime scene, it would have been condemned.

  “Help her up,” Marcus says, stepping back and using the gun to wave at Indi. “Come on.”

  I go over to her, crouch, help her to her feet. She resists until she sees my face and realizes it’s me. As I straighten, a shape on the floor catches my eye. I grab Indi and turn her to face Marcus, forcing a hard swallow.

  I only saw the back of her, but I know it was Addy. She could have been sleeping, I guess, but no one goes to sleep naked on a singed carpet. Not with their legs that wide. Not with a belt around her neck. And I doubt Indi’s seen her — Marcus left her partially hidden behind the blackened lumps of a sofa.

  “I have your money,” I say, and then cock my head toward the car. “Double what you wanted.”

  Marcus gives me a cold smile. “You know what? I’ve had a lot of time to think the past few days.” He taps the barrel of the gun against his head. “’Bout you. About me.” He points the gun at Indi, and she flinches into me. “About her.”

  I slide my arms around Indi, holding her tight. She must be terrified, but she’s not even shaking. Then again, he has had her for more than five hours. I suppose at some point the fear simmers down.

  “And?” I prompt.

  Marcus shrugs. “I wanted to disappear.” He p
urses his lips and looks away for a moment. “Thought the money could help me get out, you know. Then I wouldn’t have to work with my dad.”

  Eyes the color of night settle on Indi. His cold smile inches up. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I do love it, bro.”

  Marcus’s words come back to me then. We were in the pub, talking about his father. About the dodgy shit his dad made him do.

  I keep going back and forth — hating it, loving it, hating it.

  What if I stop hating it?

  “And no one’s caught me yet.” Marcus shrugs again, and his smile widens enough for me to see his teeth. “So why the fuck should I stop?”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Indi

  Soot-covered stairs creak alarmingly under my shoes. This is all too surreal, like a nightmare I can’t wake up from; the feel of late-afternoon sun on my arms as I’m forced up the stairs of the house I’d lived in for years; the sound of birds, too loud now that the roof’s caved in.

  How many times have I skinned my knees on these steps as a kid while rushing to get upstairs? Now I’m moving through molasses, every cell in my body protesting.

  But what am I supposed to do? There’s a gun trained on me — Marcus follows us up the stairs like a predator stalking prey — and I’d break an ankle trying to jump off.

  A maimed girl is a dead girl.

  Look what happened to Addy.

  I realize Briar was trying to protect me earlier, but he shouldn’t have bothered. Addy’s body is off to one side, in clear view as we head up to the landing.

  After I caught sight of her, I nearly threw up. Now I’m keeping my eyes straight ahead.

  Not daring to look. Not daring to disobey.

  If I’m a good girl, maybe he’ll let me go.

  If I behave, maybe he’ll drop his guard long enough for me or Briar to overpower him.

  Chances are slim, but it’s all I have.

  So up the stairs I go, one foot at a time. By the time I reach the landing, I’m numb with dread anticipation.

  There’s a gaping doorway ahead.

  My room. It’s still standing. It’s the only thing still standing up here. Some of the wall against the hall has fallen in, but the other three are still there. Blackened, cracked, but still there. Roof’s caved in, but there’s even a window frame left, a few shards of glass poking out of that wood like teeth.

  It’s the mattress on the floor, however, that makes me stare.

  It’s not mine. Mine was a twin. This one’s gotta be a queen. And it’s completely untouched by the fire, except for a few streaks of soot.

  Brand new and bare.

  “See?” Marcus says.

  I jolt and hurry forward a step, my skin crawling with the realization that he’d been close enough to whisper in my ear.

  “Look how nice it looks.”

  * * *

  “Just take the money,” Briar says. We’re standing a few feet apart facing Marcus, who’s taking up the doorway to my old room.

  Marcus rolls his eyes. “Quit it about the money, already. I told you. I found my calling.” He steps inside the room and heads for my dresser. It’s pitch black, one leg eaten away by the fire. Marcus takes a phone from his pocket, plays around with it for a second, and then puts it on the slanting surface.

  Facing us.

  No — facing the mattress.

  “Undress her.”

  Briar shakes his head. Lifts his hands. “I can get more money. Tons more. Just tell me how much—”

  “Get her naked!” Marcus yells.

  I jerk, my hands closing instinctively into fists. Briar’s jaw bunches, but he turns and does as he’s told.

  Eyes fixed on my throat, he starts undressing me. Every time his fingers graze my skin, I shudder. By the time he’s done, I’m full of goosebumps and ice-cold everywhere except my face, which is burning up with shame.

  “Good,” Marcus says quietly. “Now how about a little foreplay. I’ll leave it up to you, but just make sure it’s good, yeah?”

  Briar looks up at the sky. He takes a visible breath, and then slides his hands over my bare shoulders, pulling me close.

  Hiding my nakedness from Marcus.

  “Nuh-uh,” Marcus says, stepping closer. “I wanna see what you’re doing.”

  He has his gun out again. I’m sure if he came close enough to us, Briar could take it from him. But he keeps at least a yard between us, sometimes more.

  “Come on, man,” Briar says. “You’ve made your point. Just let her go.” He steps back, lifting up his hands. “You can kill me if you want, but just—”

  “You do it, or I will,” Marcus growls.

  Briar’s eyes skip to me, then back again. Oh my god, he’s actually considering letting Marcus touch me?

  But wait…maybe that’s not a bad idea. Marcus would have one hand on me, and only one on the gun. Distracted. Horny as fuck. Maybe then Briar can—

  “Grab her tits.”

  Seems he took too long to decide. I’ve never in my life wished I had telepathic powers as much as I do right now. We’d have this all worked out, Briar and I. Marcus would already be lying hogtied on the floor, the cops on their way.

  Are the cops on their way? Is Briar playing for time?

  Briar’s hands close over my breasts and start squeezing. I press my lips into a line, looking up, looking down, looking anywhere but at him.

  “Is she getting wet?” Marcus asks.

  I squeeze closed my eyes, a shiver chasing down my spine at the leer in Marcus’s voice.

  “Fuck,” Briar mutters angrily, but his hand moves down anyway, skimming over my tummy, my clit. Sinking between my legs.

  But he doesn’t touch my pussy. Or at least, he doesn’t finger me.

  “Mmm,” he murmurs, looking at Marcus. “A little, but not there yet.”

  My chest constricts painfully. The fuck does he think he’s doing? I step back, throwing an arm over my boobs and cupping a hand over my pussy.

  But Briar doesn’t even look at me. He’s staring at Marcus.

  “So…” Briar straightens, leaning his weight to one side. “I saw the video.”

  My eyes dart to Marcus. Marcus gives Briar a lopsided smile. “Yeah?”

  “I liked it,” Briar says, nodding a few times. “It cleared things up, you know?”

  “Yeah?” Marcus says through a laugh.

  The fuck are they talking about?

  * * *

  Briar

  I have no fucking clue what I’m doing, but I think it’s working especially since Marcus doesn’t seem that keen to blow my fucking head off anymore. I count that as a win. And I’ve gotten him to stop thinking about Indi — he’s not even looking at her anymore.

  Instead, he’s fixated on me.

  Like he’s always been, I’m starting to realize. Not in a gay way. I don’t think that’s it. But he obviously knew we were half-brothers way before I did.

  Suddenly, all those ‘bros’ we sent back and forth have so much more meaning.

  And they would have, for him.

  I was protecting you, bro.

  She wasn’t good enough for you, bro.

  In his sick, twisted mind, did he really think he was doing me a solid? I must have seemed such an ungrateful prick.

  “I…I’m sorry,” I say.

  Beside me, Indi lets out a tiny huff of disbelief. But thank God it doesn’t travel, because I’ve literally just managed to get Marcus’s attention off her.

  God, how I wish we could read each other’s minds. Would have made all of this so much fucking easier.

  “You are?” Marcus says, and then barks out a laugh. “Of course you are. And you should be.”

  “You were right.” I take another slow step. “You were right every time, bro.”

  I try to let it sound as natural as possible, but there’s suddenly a suspicious gleam in Marcus’s eyes. “Yeah,” he says quietly, and his eyes move to Indi.

  “About her,
” I say, pointing at Indi. Then I take another step, this one diagonal, cutting off his view of her as if I have something really important to say. “About Addy.” I put emphasis on the last word, and Marcus gives me a fierce nod.

  “You know, I saw her making out with Jess?”

  I lick my lips, but don’t have words. Instead, I just shake my head.

  “Should have told you,” Marcus says, looking briefly abashed. “But that made me wonder if Jess was gay and that’s why she didn’t want to fuck you. No one wants to hear their girl is gay or some shit. Then you’d start wondering if it’s because of you.”

  I nod. “Nah, man, it’s cool. I’m glad you didn’t tell me. I’d probably just have dug in my heels.” I try and laugh, but it comes out sounding faker than a three-dollar bill.

  “Warned you, bro,” Marcus says, and he even has the audacity to waggle his finger at me. “I warned you.”

  “You did, man, you did. And I didn’t listen. I didn’t fucking listen.” I thump my fist into my palm and then drag my hands through my hair.

  I probably sound like an idiot, but when I glance at Marcus, he’s gone stock still. Face expressionless. The hand holding the gun dipping.

  Marcus shakes his head, and the gun sinks to his side. “She was distracting the fuck out of you, that gay, stuck up cunt.”

  “And the night I’m supposed to sort her out,” I say, my hands twisting at my side, “I go and fucking pass out.”

  Marcus lets out a low chuckle that makes my hackles rise. “That’s ‘cos you drank out the wrong cup, man.”

  “I…what?” My brow furrows.

  Marcus shakes his head, looking up as if he’s trying to deal with a difficult kid or something. “Man, I was so fucking careful to keep track, but then you somehow got Jess’s cup.”

  I think back to the video, but that couldn’t be it.