Something Wicked: An Enemies to Lovers Bully Romance (The Seymore Brothers Book 2)

by Savannah Rose

  Aching, heart breaking, slumped under the weight of my past and present, I trudged toward the back gate.

  I’d only made it five steps before Eric caught me up short, strangling me with my shirt collar.

  “Don’t be a pity party douchebag,” he said. He tossed me toward the back door, rolling his eyes, and made little pushing motions with his hands. “Go fix this like a big boy. You run away, that girl in there has nobody. Get your head together, dingus.”

  My gut twisted. I tried to take a step toward the house, but my feet wouldn’t move. I gestured helplessly.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  He blinked at me furiously for a full ten seconds. Then he stopped, took a slow, deep breath—and bellowed. “Apologize to her!”

  I had never heard Eric do so much as raise his voice. It startled my feet unstuck, propelling me into the house.

  I kicked off my muddy shoes in the kitchen and looked around. She wasn’t in the kitchen or either of the living rooms or her bedroom.

  Images of her running into traffic flashed through my head, freezing my blood.

  “Kennedy? Where are you?”

  My voice echoed through the silent house. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, like tiny little well-deserved slaps upside my head.

  I waited forever for an answer, then pelted down the stairs toward the front door. My feet and breath and heart were so loud I almost missed her.

  “In the bathroom,” she answered.

  I stopped short of my momentum and flopped heavily on the plush carpet in front of the bathroom door.

  “You couldn’t have answered me before I had a heart attack?” I wheezed.

  There was a puzzled silence from the other side of the door. “Why would you have had a heart attack?”

  “I thought you were gone! Thought you, I don’t know—went all tragic emo chick or something.” I skirted the words I couldn’t say, downplaying the fears that had tormented me for endless seconds.

  She had the audacity to giggle. I rolled over, glared at the door, then flopped onto my back and scowled at the ceiling.

  “What’s so funny?”

  She cracked the door open a sliver, just enough for me to see one of her big brown eyes and the tiniest little smirk on her face.

  “You were worried about me,” she said.

  “And that’s funny?”

  Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

  “I’m not amused, I’m—happy? There’s a better word for it, I know there is, but I just—I’m glad you still care.”

  That hurt. Of course I still cared.

  I sighed, knowing that, from her perspective, it probably hadn’t looked that way.

  I rubbed my eyes with one hand, then gestured for her to come down to me. I didn’t really expect her to, not without making me jump through a bunch of hoops, but I was hoping.

  Warmth spread through me as she slipped through the door and curled up with me on the floor, wrapping her arms and legs around me and burying her face in my shoulder.

  I kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back, aching with the pleasurable pain of forgiveness.

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I’m trying to figure out how not to be an asshole.” I pulled her a little closer and she snuggled into me. “You’ve been through enough. You shouldn’t have to deal with me, too.”

  Her head jerked up and she scowled at me. “That’s starting to sound a whole lot like a preamble to a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ conversation.”

  I hesitated. I really didn’t want to put her through any more than she’d already been through, but I knew myself well enough to know that my temper was nowhere near stable.

  The chances of her stumbling onto another raw nerve were high, and the chances of me being able to think through it before I exploded were extremely low.

  I looked down at her face and saw her eyes full of tears. Her lip trembled.

  “Rudy?”

  My throat tightened and I pulled her close again.

  “I don’t want this to end,” I said, my voice low and harsh. “But I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  She was quiet for a long moment. “You think you will?”

  The “no” almost shot out of my mouth, but I bit it back. It was time for honesty.

  “Not on purpose,” I told her. “I’m not planning to. Kennedy—I know myself. Not as well as I need to, maybe, but well enough to know—certain things.”

  “Like what?”

  I gritted my teeth. I never was good at confessions, and therapy never went anywhere. I was good at stonewalling and exploding.

  I felt vulnerable, exposed, and I hated it. Then Kennedy put her warm hand over my heart and for a single moment I felt secure.

  “I have anger issues,” I said quietly. “I’m violent. I’ve got a hair trigger on a lot of things. I want to tell you I’m working on it, but—” I struggled against a knot in my gut. “Without Jason and my brothers and you all telling me the same thing, I would have killed Thomas already. And I—I don’t want you to have to protect yourself from me, or me from my impulses, or other people from me. I want to be the one to protect you, and—”

  My voice failed me as emotion swelled in my chest. I swallowed against it and shuddered, confronted with the reality of who I was. Then Kennedy wriggled up to my face and kissed me, and I held her tight, clinging to her like a life preserver from the storm inside.

  She pulled away before I was ready—maybe I never would have been ready—and held my face in her hands, gazing down at me with big, serious eyes.

  “You do protect me,” she said. “And I protect you. We both need to learn to protect ourselves, too, but right now? We’re a team.”

  Then she kissed me again, leaving me with a headful of stupid things dying to be said and a body craving more of her. It didn’t go farther than that, though.

  Just as things were starting to heat up, I heard Eric’s boots on the kitchen tiles. Kennedy grinned as she got to her feet and pulled me up.

  “All good in here?” Eric asked as he came through into the main part of the house.

  Kennedy nodded. I looked at her, then at him, and gave a single, solemn nod. “For now.”

  “Cool. Yard’s finished and I already called the office and let them know that I was kicking off my vacation time, so I’m heading back to Jason’s.”

  My stomach clenched. “You’re really staying?”

  Eric gave me a long look, then sighed. “Look, man, I know you’re worried, but these people aren’t above the law. I’m not going to get lynched.”

  I shook my head. “Kennedy, do you have pictures of Julianne on your phone?”

  She nodded and pulled her phone out of her pocket. While she was rummaging through her gallery, I spoke to Eric.

  “I’m not worried about lynching. I’m worried about you getting caught up in the same web of bullshit that we’re caught in.”

  Eric looked doubtful. “It’s not like I’ll be going to school with you,” he said.

  “Won’t have to,” I told him.

  “Here’s one,” Kennedy said, handing me her phone.

  I glanced at the photo and it made my lip curl.

  Julianne was pressed against Kennedy, her spidery hands splayed across Kennedy’s shoulder. Kennedy’s smile looked forced, and the glint in Julianne’s eyes looked evil, but maybe I was projecting. Regardless, I sneered as I handed the phone over to Eric.

  “She’s all over this town,” I said. “She’ll probably recognize you, she’s been obsessing about you—and the rest of us by extension—for years. She gets into clubs and bars whenever she wants, she hangs out at the mall, she—what’s wrong?”

  Eric’s eyes were wide and frozen on the picture. He looked pale. His hand trembled as he handed the phone back to Kennedy.

  “Don’t delete that,” he told her in a voice that was almost a whisper. He looked at me, haunted, and shook his head. “I have to go.”

  I frowned at h
im. “What? Back to Jason’s, right?”

  He shook his head on his way to the door. He practically ran to his car, started it up, and pulled away before I had the chance to ask him anything else.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Oh, for the love of God, please tell me he wasn’t already banging Julianne!

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  KENNEDY

  With the back door in the condition it was in and the girls still out to get me, I didn’t much feel like staying in my house.

  I called mom’s phone and left a message for her, weaving a story about a bat in the house to explain the broken chair and door, and promised to call a repair place on Monday after school.

  Not that I was looking forward to school much. My grades were on the rocks and Julianne clearly had something up her sleeve—I could only imagine what she was planning to do with the pictures she’d taken. If she made them public somehow, the shock alone would make Rudy and I the center of attention at school—and not in a good way. We hadn’t exactly been displaying our new relationship status and though Rudy had thick skin, it pained me to think about the vile things they would say about him. None knew - or cared that he’d done more for me than I could ever repay him for. But once the talking started, the whispers would circle around how I was dating someone beneath me. Never mind the fact that that wasn’t at all true. After the hell I’d helped Julianne put him through, I wasn’t sure I deserved Rudy.

  Those thoughts weighed heavily on my mind that evening as we ate one of Jason’s amazing home-cooked dinners.

  Conversation washed around me as I chewed on my food and my anxiety at once, imagining all the different ways Julianne could make my life uncomfortable—or even unbearable.

  “Hey,” Rudy said, nudging me with an elbow. I looked up from my plate to find the rest of the family busy clearing their plates, moving their conversation to the oversized kitchen. “You good?”

  I nodded slowly. “Just thinking.”

  “If you’re worried about Eric, don’t be. He does that sometimes. Sort of just up and disappears. Has these flashes of genius or insight or whatever. Probably has nothing to do with anything. He’ll show up again when he feels like it. Game night at the latest.”

  I shook my head. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I mean, I’m glad he’s okay, but that’s not what’s on my mind. It’s—”

  I was interrupted by a delighted shriek as one of the smaller boys darted into the room, running from a Bradleysaurus.

  “Rawr!” Bradley growled. “Dirty teeth are my favorite snack! Rawr!”

  The shrieks continued up the stairs, ending in frantic bargaining and laughter as the kid started brushing his teeth.

  I opened my mouth to speak again, but Chris and Gary slammed into the room at that moment, playfully boxing with each other.

  Gary got a good hit upside Chris’ ear, and the fight began in earnest.

  “Outside?” Rudy suggested.

  I nodded.

  We took our dishes to the kitchen and slipped outside before the yelps and slaps we heard from the other room turned into anything worse. Jason rolled his eyes at us as he dashed by on his way to referee the conflict, then Rudy slid the door shut on the noise.

  We walked around to where the deck became a dock—not a functional one, as someone had added a sturdy railing all the way around—and looked down at the blazing colors of the sunset reflecting back at us.

  It was beautiful, all blue and green and surrounded by growing things. Wide, too. Wide enough to host a community swim meet, complete with picnic on the smooth grassy bank across from us.

  Not that it would ever happen. Maybe a decade ago, but not anymore.

  The reservoir, like the Seymores, was Starline urban legend, a thing whispered about around campfires and under covers, the backdrop of ghost stories and murder mysteries.

  I wasn’t immune to the effects, either. For as pretty as it was, I couldn’t imagine bringing myself to swim in it. Sabrina’s ghost lived there.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the irregular Seymore house. Of course her ghost was connected with the house too, and I’d managed to overcome my anxieties about that.

  I guess when a person is faced with real horror, the stories kind of pale in comparison.

  “So what’s up?” Rudy asked. “You haven’t said a word since we got here.”

  “I said hi to Jason and the guys,” I objected weakly.

  “Yeah, one word for six people,” he teased gently. “What’s on your mind?”

  I couldn’t think of a way to begin talking about this that wouldn’t lead him to jump to the wrong conclusions, though I’d taken plenty of time to think it over.

  My fingers moved nervously, unconsciously carving crescents into the soft, thick wood railing.

  “I’m thinking about what Julianne has in mind for those pictures they took of you naked in my back yard,” I said after a while. “She could post them online or print them out and leave them all over the school, she could submit them to the school paper—or hell, the Starline Gazette even. She could send them to my parents or whichever station is hosting my dad’s show this week, or—so many things. So many awful things.”

  I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t afraid because I was ashamed of being with him, but if the thought didn’t occur to him, I didn’t want to be the one to put it there. So I just chewed my lip and carved more nail prints into the railing and watched the sky darken in the water below.

  I watched his reflection frown thoughtfully.

  “What if she did?” he asked.

  Shame washed over me. So he did think I was ashamed of my relationship with him.

  I started panicking, hoping to find the words to say to reassure him, to explain myself without digging this hole any deeper—the magic words to protect us both without losing him again.

  His arms were around my waist before I’d found a thing to say, his chin resting on my head.

  “That wasn’t rhetorical,” he murmured. “I’m asking. I’ve never been blackmailed before. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  My heart slowed back down to a reasonable pace and I swallowed a sigh that shook my chest.

  Clinging to his arms and pressing against him, I forced myself to recall all the possible futures which had been building in my mind all day.

  “Let’s say she shows the whole school. Because people still mostly group me with her crew, and them against you guys, it’ll be hot gossip. Lots of attention, lots of shock, so much speculation, rumors flying everywhere, untold negative attention. You remember that scene in Romeo and Juliet where Mercutio runs his mouth and everybody dies? That, I’m picturing that.”

  He kissed my head, but I think it was mostly to hide his chuckle. “Okay, chaos and drama. Since it’s this town, potential violence.”

  I nodded, trembling slightly. “And that’s just school. My parents have built an Inspiration Speaking empire around their parenting techniques.”

  He snorted at that, but I hurried on before he could say anything to derail me.

  “And if it suddenly gets out that their only child was found trashing a gorgeous backyard—because I’m sure she took ‘before’ pictures—with a delinquent foster boy—because you know she’d smear all the dirt she could dig up on you all over with this—they’d lose all respect. Even if they could figure out how to spin it, that would take time. They’d lose all kinds of contracts and sponsors and appearances in the time it would take them to recover themselves, if they ever could. One picture, a little biased context, and my dad’s whole career would be over.”

  There wasn’t even a hint of a chuckle this time. He squeezed me a little tighter.

  My throat tightened as a horrific possibility occurred to me, and I struggled to swallow through it so my voice would work properly. I didn’t quite manage it.

  “She could take it to the police,” I rasped. “File a report that you were attacking me or her or one of the others. Harassing
, whatever. They’d take her word for it. An investigation like that would force you out—just like Eric.”

  As I said it out loud, the possibility of it grew to terrifying proportions. It was exactly the kind of thing she would do, a page ripped right out of her mother’s playbook.

  Rudy tensed around me.

  “I don’t want to go down like that,” he said, his voice wavering. “Not for something like that. I would rather—” he cut himself off, grinding his teeth so hard his jaw vibrated my scalp.

  Neither of us said anything for several minutes as the world darkened to black around us.

  “We need to get ahead of her somehow,” he said, his voice edged in something between panic and fury. “I can’t think straight.”

  I shook my head. “How? Making out in the hallways might eliminate the Romeo and Juliet potential, but it isn’t going to do anything about the cops. I mean, I guess we could go make out at the police station, but they would probably just arrest us for disturbing the peace or something. Trying to get their attention at all would make us look suspicious. And I don’t even know where to start with the parent thing, except to tell them everything and let them strategize in advance, but I don’t know if they even would. Dad would probably just blow his top and freeze my account or ground me or something.”

  Rudy shivered against me. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” he growled. “Damn it. We need help.”

  “Jason?”

  He shook his head. “I already know what he would say. Lots of hippie love child crap about being the bigger person and shit. That isn’t going to help us now.”

  “Chris?” I didn’t want to bring him into this—at all—but he did seem to be the evil mastermind around here.

  Rudy snorted. “Sugar in a gas tank isn’t going to get that picture out of circulation.” He ground his teeth again, then jerked away from me. “I got it.”

  I turned around to find him fumbling with his phone. “Come on,” he muttered as he put the phone to his ear. “Come on, come on, come—Julio! You busy? I need your help.”

  A few minutes later we were back in Rudy’s car, heading for Julio’s place—a small, expensive-looking house tucked between a professional business park and Starline’s only golf course.