Brutal Prince: A Dark Bully High School Romance

by Fox, Logan

  “Since eleven, I was trying to roofie her.” Marcus is grinning openly now. “She either left her drink and fucked off somewhere else, or spilled it. Then you drank it. I was about to give up before I finally got some of that shit in her.”

  “The vodka.” The words slip out through numb lips.

  Marcus chuckles. “Wasn’t fucking vodka.”

  It had been water. Water, so Jessica wouldn’t taste the liquor. And no doubt, she couldn’t taste those bitter pills over the bitter beer.

  “Well thank God you were there,” I say, desperately trying to reign in the conversation. Hoping Indi has the patience and foresight to see what I’m trying to accomplish here. High hopes indeed — I don’t think she has a single patient bone in her body.

  Marcus cocks his head at me. “But I set you up,” he says, a calculating twinkle in his eye. “Aren’t you mad?”

  “I was,” I agree, nodding slowly as my mind races. “But that cherry had to be popped dude, no two ways about it.”

  Marcus lets out another laugh, but I can see I’m far from convincing him that I’m on his side.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Marcus snaps, and the gun lifts so fast I’m already tensing for the impact of the bullet.

  But he’s not aiming at me. He’s talking to Indi, who’s snuck out behind me.

  “Put it down, Marcus,” she snaps. “We both know you’re not going to shoot us.”

  Damn it, Indi!

  “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” Marcus growls.

  “Because someone will hear and then they’ll call the cops. Which means you can’t have your fun.”

  There’s no mistaking the venom in Indi’s voice. I don’t dare look back at her in case she thinks I’m encouraging this stupidity, but I’m a hundred percent positive she’s glaring at Marcus.

  “Indi,” I murmur as quietly as possible, barely moving my lips. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “What, so you two can go on reminiscing about how you raped Jessica?” Her voice rises into a yell at the end. “I’d rather you shoot me now and get it over with.”

  “Shut up!” Marcus yells. “Shut! Up!”

  Instead, Indi screams at the top of her lungs.

  I don’t know where my mind is at. I guess I still think my idiotic plan is working. Being chummy with Marcus, at least, had the gun pointed at the floor, not at Indi. Then she intervened.

  Stubborn, stubborn!

  I slap my hand over her mouth, wrench her around, and throw her to the mattress. I stare for a second as she bounces, and she stares right back at me, shock writ large in her wide eyes and over her trembling mouth.

  “Wh-?” is all she gets out before I’m on top of her.

  She must have been gagged or blindfolded at some stage, because the cloth used to do it is still hanging around her neck. I rip it off and shove it between her lips. She slaps at my hands and tugs at my wrists, but it’s easy enough to tie off the gag since she’s obviously not trying that hard to injure me.

  In the silence that follows, my breath sounds like that of a wild animal caught in a trap.

  “There,” I say, leaning back. I widen my eyes at Indi, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Her hands go up to the gag, but I grab her wrists and pin them to her stomach. “Now you can’t go running off your mouth again.” I throw all sorts of inflection into my words, but I could have drawn a fucking picture and it wouldn’t have helped.

  It doesn’t matter. I finally have her exactly where I wanted her. Which, ironically, is where Marcus wanted her to be all along.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Indi

  If this is part of Briar’s plan, then it sucks. Yeah, it kinda looks like the psycho’s letting his guard down, but that doesn’t explain Briar’s need to shove a gag in my mouth.

  So I screamed, so what? If I managed to alert someone in the neighborhood to our plight, then all the better. Because I’m sorry, but I’m not staking my life on the off-chance that Briar can talk sense into someone as obviously psychotic as Marcus.

  Guess I was back of the line when they were handing out patience.

  I glare at Briar above my gag, willing him to read the furious thoughts I’m daggering at him, but he keeps looking back at Marcus.

  He’s so heavy on my stomach, it feels like all my internal organs are being pulverized.

  I buck under him, letting out a muffled shriek.

  That gets his attention. He glances down at me, widens and then narrows his eyes like he’s trying to Morse code me the detailed steps of this harebrained plan of his.

  So kind of you to keep me informed, Briar.

  Really. What a champ.

  “Perfect,” Marcus says.

  I turn my head, and focus my glare on him instead. He’s standing a yard away from the mattress, his cellphone in one hand and his gun in the other.

  “You wanna do her doggy style, like Jess?”

  “Nah. Just like this is fine,” Briar says.

  Cold concrete oozes into my stomach. This is about the video again, isn’t it? I don’t even want to know, but I’m powerless to stop my thoughts going there.

  Proof that Briar raped Jess. The one Addy was apparently using to blackmail him. I don’t know how much of it’s true. Which parts Briar’s bluffing about.

  In a perfect — if unbelievable — world, Briar would somehow be innocent of all charges. Marcus is obviously a whack job — so why couldn’t it all have been him? Everything.

  He killed mom.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and swallow down a sob. There’s been zero time to deal with any of this shit, but this is not the time. Like hell that stops my brain thinking, though.

  None of it makes sense, of course. Why the hell would Marcus drive all the way out to Lakeview? Was it all just for the stupid necklace around my neck?

  I twist my hands, trying to get them out of Briar’s grip. If I could loosen that chain and throw the thing at Marcus, I would. Maybe then he’ll go away. Exploding into a plume of smoke.

  Briar looks across at Marcus. “You got a good enough angle, bro?”

  Seriously, what the fuck is with all the bros?

  “Almost,” Marcus says, shifting to one side. “Yeah. Ready when you are.”

  I look back at Briar the same time he looks at me. He gives me a faint smile, but I don’t know what to make of it. He leans back, one hand still gripping my wrists together at my sternum, while the other goes around his waist.

  Between my legs.

  I let out a muffled protest when he touches me, and shift under him, shaking my head.

  There’s gotta be another way, I yell at him. Marcus is close enough for you to fucking storm him. Just do it!

  But all Briar seems inclined to do is stroke my pussy. I close my eyes, wriggling furiously to get away from his fingers.

  He leans down in a rush, putting his mouth right by my ear. “Would you stop moving? You’re making me hard.”

  When he straightens with a strange leer on his face, all I can do is blink at him in astonishment.

  This is getting him hard?

  My fuck — and here I thought Marcus was the only psycho in the room.

  “Come on, bro,” Marcus says. I close my eyes again, and force myself to stop wriggling under Briar.

  “She’s not wet enough,” Briar says.

  My cheeks go hot. I grip my fingers together like I’m praying, and then I actually do pray.

  Not to God, but to Briar.

  Please, please stop wasting time and do something!

  Fingers — enough of them to stretch my walls — slide inside me and dig deep. I flinch, cry out into the gag, and have to force myself to go still again.

  “Feels wet as fuck to me,” Marcus says, and then laughs. I cringe, and hurriedly swallow down the bile that rushes up my throat. My eyes pop open. I glare up at Briar, and he scowls down at me.

  For a moment, I think he’s angry with me. Why? Because I dared move when Marcus fingered me? Fuck him! And if Marcus
was so close, why in the hell didn’t Briar attack him?

  Briar shifts his mouth to the side, grabs my wrists in both hands, and pins them above my head. My hands sink into the mattress as I give Briar another venomous glare.

  “Hey, bro?”

  Marcus straightens behind Briar, head tilted quizzically. “Yeah?”

  “Can you…would you hold her down while I fuck her?”

  * * *

  Briar

  My heart’s thundering in my chest. Marcus was right behind me, and there was fuck all I could do about it.

  Why?

  Because as soon as his fingers touched mine, there between Indi’s legs, he pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of my head.

  I could still have tried to disarm him, but I couldn’t risk getting shot and leaving Indi to fend him off. I’d do anything not to have her end up downstairs beside cold, dead Addy. I’d even die, if that would help. I was the one who got her into this mess in the first place. Taunting her, bullying her. It’s my fault she ever got on Marcus’s radar.

  All because of my selfish need to own shit. To claim what’s mine. First, the woods by the house. Then her.

  Guess I’m finally going to get what I want.

  Right here, right now.

  I must be as sick as Marcus. Fuck, maybe we do share DNA. Because the thought of defiling her like this is giving me a hard-on. Despite the fact that she’s lying motionless under me and scowling a hole through my head. It doesn’t matter.

  I told her I’d be her first and I plan on keeping my promise, even if it means she’s screaming at me the entire time.

  I’d rather have her hate me for the rest of my life, than have Marcus take her virginity while I watch.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Indi

  Something’s changed. It’s not just the light — although that’s becoming dimmer by the second. There’s a darkness building in this room that has nothing to do with sunlight, and everything to do with the two men in here with me.

  I expect Marcus to object to Briar’s request. After all, how can he hold a gun while he’s keeping me down?

  But I guess Marcus feels the change too, because a moment later he’s crouching on the mattress by my head. He puts the gun down, behind and to his right, and then takes my wrists from Briar.

  The touch of Marcus’s cold fingers on my wrists, some still slick with my own lubricant, is enough to make me gag. But the savage hunger in Marcus’s black eyes makes me want to hurl.

  I can smell myself on him, and it’s throwing my head into a state of such overwhelming shock I feel a catatonic state coming on.

  I can’t let that happen.

  I have to fight this!

  But now Marcus is holding me down, not Briar. And when I start bucking and writhing under Briar, yelling at him through my gag to get off me, to stop, to abandon his stupid plan, Marcus leans real close and sinks his teeth into my jaw.

  Briar stops with a hand on his zip. I go rigid in shock, and then melt with fear. Marcus pulls back, but from the fierce stinging where his teeth were, I know he broke the skin.

  “Christ,” Briar breathes.

  My eyes fly to him, but his gaze is transfixed on the spot where Marcus bit me.

  “What?” Marcus demands. “Bitch wouldn’t lay still.”

  “It…that…” Briar clears his throat, and hurriedly zips down his fly. “That was so fucking hot.”

  He’s bullshitting, of course. I can see the disgust in his eyes. But I guess, just like some relationships force rose-tinted glasses on your nose, Marcus doesn’t notice anything but what he wants to.

  And his friend just told him it was hot when he bit me.

  So he bites me again. This time, right on my tit.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Briar

  Indi thrashes under me, and all I can do is watch. The gun’s too far away for me to grab, and Marcus is in the way. I’m one step closer to disabling him, but Indi’s a loose cannon. I can’t depend on her to stay still and not get herself killed, I just can’t.

  But I can’t watch Marcus hurting her anymore either.

  My fly is down, but my cock is still in my pants. As much as I hated seeing it, this wouldn’t have been possible if Marcus hadn’t done what he’d done. Because, up until about a second ago, despite Indi being a good girl and not wriggling under me, I was still hard as a rock.

  Now? My cock’s deflating like a jumping castle with a puncture.

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “So fucking hot.”

  “Yeah?” Marcus says. He looks up at me, his bloodied mouth in a wide grin. “Where next?”

  “No, Christ, we have to fuck her now.”

  I’m in some kind of limbo-land. I know I sound like I’m reading lines off a script. My body moves in fits and starts like I’m a stop animation clay model, not a human being.

  But Marcus is unraveling. Maybe so far gone in this fantasy of his that he’s lost touch of reality.

  I guess, to him, everything is swell. He and his best friend are double-tagging this stuck up virgin, just like he’d planned for us with Jessica.

  A plan I’d fucked up when I’d passed out.

  “So do it,” Marcus says. Then he starts nodding. “Want me to hold her open?”

  “Yes please,” I say woodenly, and climb off Indi’s stomach.

  Her eyes are shut, and she’s whimpering through the gag every time one of us speaks.

  I can’t imagine what fresh hell this is for her, but I don’t think there’s any other way either of us gets out of this alive. I’m fully aware, however, that if something goes wrong in the next minute, she might die thinking I caved in and let my black soul take over.

  Kneeling beside her waist, I grab her wrists from Marcus and wrap the fingers of my other hand around her neck.

  Her eyes fly open. A piece of me dies when I see tears glittering in those lashes, trapped diamonds.

  It’s already too late. She hates me now. She always will. Doesn’t matter how this ends. Doesn’t matter if you save her or just prolong her suffering.

  Indi Virgo will never be mine. Not how I wanted her to be, anyway.

  I make sure there’s barely any pressure on her neck. Her eyes flit between me and Marcus, where he’s forcing open her legs and holding her down.

  What can I possibly say to her?

  Should I even bother?

  I tug loose her gag and kiss her instead. Then she moans into my mouth, shuddering.

  “She’s ready, bro. Come on.”

  I break off the kiss, and I don’t look at Marcus. I can’t, because then I’d have to see what he’s doing to make her shudder and convulse so. And that would break me.

  “Do it,” I say, not daring to take my eyes off Indi’s. “I want you to fuck her.”

  “What? No. I told you—”

  “Please, bro. I want to…” My voice fades as hurt bleeds into Indi’s eyes. I can’t imagine how betrayed she must feel right now. The indignation, the shame? But I force the words out anyway, knowing they’ll cut me deeper than any knife ever could.

  “I want to watch you fuck her.”

  Marcus lets out a soft sound, something between a huff and a laugh. “Bro. You sure?”

  “You said it yourself,” I murmur. “You’d love to pop another cherry.”

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Indi

  I’m dead inside. Dead, and cold, and crawling with maggots. But my lips are still tingling. I guess they haven’t got the message yet. They still think this is all in good fun; a little roughhousing before the main attraction.

  If I weren’t a corpse, I’d be spewing up everything I’ve ever eaten. But all I do is lie here with my legs wide as they can go while Marcus positions himself by my pussy.

  “You sure she’s a virgin?” Marcus says. “Never seen one with a shaved cunt before.”

  I swallow hard, and wonder if Briar can feel my throat moving under his hand.

  “Don’t fight this,” Bri
ar says. “Just be a good girl, and take it all.”

  My brain seethes in quiet fury at his words, but it’s the only thing still alive in my dead, dead body. I barely feel Marcus’s fingers on my folds, opening me up.

  “I said don’t fight it!” Briar’s eyes flicker past me, but return so fast I could have imagined it.

  The gun.

  He was looking at the gun.

  It’s a few feet away from me, but still out of reach.

  “You holding her, bro?”

  “Yeah. But she’s a good girl. She won’t fight you.”

  “She will when I’m in,” Marcus says through a chuckle. “When I rip this pretty pussy in two.”

  He strokes my folds, and it’s as if something inside my mind snaps. I scream. Briar’s hand closes over my mouth. Then I sink my teeth into his fingers.

  He jerks away his hand with a shout of pain, and that’s when I buck with all my might. Marcus sits back, one hand on his cock, the other cupping his balls.

  Told you — drop a bomb, and they always go for their nut sacks. I draw in my leg and kick out as fast as I can, slamming Marcus’s own hands into his genitals.

  He screams as he falls backward, but by then I’m already twisting, arm stretching for the gun.

  The metal’s ice-cold against my fingers. I drag it close, grab the grip, and twist to face Marcus.

  But he’s not there anymore.

  I sit up in a rush.

  Briar and Marcus are on the far edge of the mattress. Briar has both hands around Marcus’s neck, and Marcus is trying to wedge open his fingers as his face starts swelling with trapped blood.

  The gun bobs and weaves until I slap my one hand over the other.

  I’ve never shot a gun.

  I’ve never even watched enough action movies to have any idea how this thing works.

  But I saw Marcus draw back the hammer, so I do that. And I know what a trigger is, so I curl my finger around it.