Brutal days a dark high.., p.1
Brutal Days: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Hidden Valley Elite Book 3), page 1
BRUTAL DAYS
A DARK HIGH SCHOOL BULLY ROMANCE
HIDDEN VALLEY ELITE
BOOK THREE
ISLA VAUGHN
ARROWSCOPE PRESS, LLC
Brutal Days
Copyright © 2023 Isla Vaughn
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
(p) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-45-0
(e) ISBN-13: 978-1-951919-44-3
Publisher: Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com
Editing— Amanda K., Line Editor, Kristina B., Proofreader, Rashida B., Beta Read, Red Adept Editing
Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs; www.teblackdesigns.com
Interior Formatting & Design— Arrowscope Press, LLC; www.arrowscopepress.com
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
About the Author
Also by Isla Vaughn
CHAPTER ONE
SKYLAR
#Goals
“Our senior year is going to be epic.” My best friend, Gia Moretti, was pumped and determined to shed her band geek, tuba-playing image.
Of the two of us, I was the rebel, with black clothes and leather, but underneath, I was a regular person who knew myself. Rebelling wasn’t all Gia thought it was. We were polar opposites, but she was my ride-or-die bestie, and I would do anything for her.
I always thought her insecurity was just in her head. With her loving family and a homey and typical house, she had everything I wished for. And the v-card obsession? It wasn’t that big a deal. But to Gia, it was huge. She had a list, which she would tell me in great detail, whether I agreed to hear it or not.
“Listen up, my friend,” Gia gushed, “my four-point plan is fabulous and on a strict timeline. I will achieve these goals every quarter of my senior year.”
“What’s the plan?” I flopped onto my stomach on her lilac bedspread to see the poster she had taped inside the closet door she’d just opened. I would regret asking, but it was important to her.
“I can tell you’re not taking this seriously.” Gia’s hands found her generous hips.
I grinned and shifted to sit cross-legged on her bed. “I am.”
“As I’ve said before, I don’t want to spend my senior year as a band geek. I’ve done that for three years, and I’ve never been on a date or had a real kiss, and I’m still a virgin.”
“I’m a virgin too. It’s not that big a deal.”
Gia narrowed her dark eyes at me, and I laughed.
“Okay, I’m sorry. Go on.”
“Here’s my four-point plan. Number one”—she tapped her poster at the appropriate purple-Sharpie-written spot—“get invited to the Ring.”
The Ring was the underground fight club where all the “cool kids,” as Gia put it, hung out.
I’d been there before, and I hadn’t been impressed. “What’s the next one?”
“Number two, get a popular boyfriend.”
Overrated. “Why does he have to be popular? Marty Winston has been in love with you since fifth grade.”
“Please. He’s four foot two.”
“So what?” I’d never understood her obsession with height regardless of temperament. Marty was sweet, a characteristic at the top of my list of must-haves for a guy.
Gia glared, her disapproving mouth set in a straight line. “Because I’m five-six and fat. I want someone who makes me feel small and delicate.”
“Stop saying you’re fat. That’s not true.” I hated when she put herself down. “You’re curvy in all the right places. And anyone who says otherwise is an asshole. Listen to me, not jerk-offs.”
She ignored me. “Number three, lose my v-card.”
“Oh my God, Gia. It’s not like it’s a disease.”
“And finally, become prom queen.” She grinned, her excitement almost contagious.
“Why?” I was truly horrified by that last one.
I never could understand her fixation on being popular. My mom had been, and it had gotten her literally nothing. She was a single parent who struggled to make ends meet. I had to breathe through my frustration because the truth was that Gia had been my friend since third grade, when my dad punched me in the face. Gia had found me hiding in her backyard, bruised and crying. Because of that, I would support her, starting with the pre-first-day-of-school barbecue at Phoenix and Shane Bennett’s house. It was after the football team’s afternoon practice, and Gia really wanted to go.
“How did you get invited to the barbecue?” Those guys didn’t hang out with band kids.
Gia laughed and flicked her long, curly hair over her shoulder. “We’re crashing it.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “The secret to a party like that is to act like we belong. And this is their end-of-summer party. So many people will be there that no one will even notice us.”
Fuck my life. The things I will do for her… “Fine.” I scooted off her bed and stood. “But I have to cover the football practice for the school blog.” I hated it.
Every school had one, even Hidden Valley Academy. And thanks to my creative writing teacher, who thought I should be a journalist, I’d been assigned. I hated sports with the passion of a thousand burning suns. But it wasn’t like I had a choice. Besides, writing was how I had hacked my way onto the student list at the academy.
“We can meet after and get ready to go then.”
I left Gia, who had turned to go through her closet to start the crazy process where she discarded clothes she deemed not good enough in heaps on her bed. If I could get through the next few hours, I could zone out in front of my TV and forget about all the drama. That day had just been a lot. I said bye to Gia’s mom and headed out, resigned to what I needed to do. I would support Gia and be there for her because that was what best friends did. But I have a really bad feeling about this.
CHAPTER TWO
DAMON
#SeniorYearBaby
Adrenaline pumped through me, and I pounded once on Shane’s helmet. “Senior year.” I couldn’t help grinning.
It was our last year at Hidden Valley Academy before we would move on to Thane. The college wasn’t too far from where we lived in Santa Monica, California, and my brother was already there kicking ass and taking names. Goddamn, did I miss him. It wasn’t the same with just the three of us here.
“Hell, yeah!” Phoenix took off his helmet and slapped me on the back, which I hardly felt under all the pads.
My cousin, Phoenix, had the coveted QB position, which was fine with me because I was an all-state running back. Shane, too, even though he volleyed between wide receiver and defense. Phoenix was a legend. Lucky for him, he had options to pass the ball to—Shane and me. I loved the thrill of the game. It made sense and fed my need to annihilate whoever was in my way on the field. And when I had the ball, which I should if it wasn’t in the air, I could bust through tackles like no one else.
“Let’s get moving so we can head to the barbecue at your house. Need me to pick anything up on my way there?” I asked.
Phoenix and Shane threw the party we were heading to and a Fourth of July one every year. Their mom, our aunt Cece, was cool with it. She usually crashed at our place during the day when they held one. So long as the place was cleaned up and no one got injured or died, she was cool with it—the product of being a single parent and overworked ER nurse.
“Nah, we’re good. Shane managed most of the party prep. I appreciate your contribution to the cooking staff. I wasn’t looking forward to grilling the mountain of meat my brother got from the store.”
“No problem. I want to party with you guys, not stand by the grill just to talk to you.”
We headed off the field, and my gaze ine vitably went to the chick in the stands that’d been screwing with me all morning, taking pictures and notes. She was smoke-show hot, and I got the impression she didn’t care about her appearance based on the overly large black glasses that matched the color of her long hair. They didn’t hide her cornflower-blue eyes, high cheekbones, or perfect bee-stung mouth. She wore black leggings that left nothing to the imagination and a tight blue shirt with strategic tears to show the black cami under it.
Her entire look did things to me that no girl had managed to. Awareness crackled in the air as I closed the distance to where she stood. She would do for the night. I had energy to burn and needed sex like my next breath. It was that or fight. Darkness swirled inside me, needing an outlet all the time. Football helped take the edge off, but I’d been spiraling, my lack of control growing ever since Mom died and I’d learned what I had about my dad that day.
My brother was right. Our dad was an asshole. It wasn’t just our mom at the root of all the family drama. And because of that, I had to find an outlet, or I would lash out. The worst part? I feared I was more like my dad than I’d ever known. No girl held my interest, and I tended to treat them terribly.
The chick stared at me as I neared, and I felt an unmistakable pull I couldn’t ignore. So I didn’t. I stopped in front of her, and my gaze caressed her body from head to toe and back again.
“Come to the barbecue with me.” It wasn’t a question. I never needed to ask. If I gave any girl attention, she fell in line like an overeager puppy.
Her mouth dropped open, and I imagined what I would like to do with those lips, then adjusted myself because, goddamn, she was gorgeous.
She laughed before wiping the amusement from her face. “I think not.”
I couldn’t have heard her right. I took in her notepad and camera. She better not have been taking pictures of my cousins and not me. “What are you doing here?”
“I have the unfortunate job of writing a piece for the school’s blog about today’s practice. I planned to go with an article dedicated to you.”
I grinned, dark thoughts swirling in my mind of what I could show her—and not on the field. “I can show you a lot more.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. How’s it going with Cole off at Thane? I mean, you’re the smaller, less talented Savage brother. Is the pressure off this year?”
Interesting. I’d never had a girl not fall in line when I snapped my fingers. I studied her more closely. She looked familiar. “You’re Skylar McCormick. You were in my math class last year.”
She’d said no to a date with me last year too.
“Yep.”
A slow grin curved her lips, and I couldn’t help but look at them again.
“And now you’re remembering that you asked me out last year.” She tsked. “You crashed and burned again.”
“That never happens. You must either swing for the other team, or you’re afraid.”
“Sorry to bruise your fragile ego.” She stuck out her lower lip in a pouty face. “Back to the article. This wasn’t your best practice. You fumbled a ball, missing a chance for a touchdown. Do you prefer the hashtag dumb jock or butterfingers?”
What the fuck is this chick’s problem? I couldn’t figure her out. “If you print something that makes me look bad, I promise you’ll regret it.”
She made a face then stepped around me and descended the bleachers before walking off the field. I followed her progress, eyes narrowed. I would find out what her issue was. It wasn’t an option. The chick intrigued me too much.
“That didn’t look like it went well,” Shane said, his helmet tucked under his arm.
Phoenix’s dangled from his fingertips as he came to stand on the other side of me. We stood watching as Skylar walked away. I fought the urge to follow, tempted by the sway of her hips.
“Who is she?” Shane asked.
“She’s nobody, and if she prints something shitty about me, I’ll make sure she pays for it too.”
CHAPTER THREE
SKYLAR
#OntheProwl
Gia was on a mission, which meant I was too. We were on the prowl to catch a guy who could hit all four of her goals. That wouldn’t be difficult with her outfit of a silky dusky-blue cami that I swore was a nightshirt from Victoria’s Secret paired with shorts so short I could see Gia’s religion when she bent down. And she wore heels. Not me. I wore my standard I-don’t-give-a-fuck outfit of ripped jeans and a flannel tied over a tight white tee.
We stood by the pool in the twins’ backyard, a White Claw in Gia’s hand and water in mine. She hadn’t been kidding about how easy it was to slip in among the crowd. And I hadn’t shared the tidbit of how I’d been invited. It was her thing, her checklist, and I only came to support her and help her get it started.
The smell of hamburgers and hot dogs wafted through the air. Music and laughter escalated in waves, but I would prefer to hear the actual waves. Gia fed off the revelry, but I wanted to escape. Time to get it over with. I scanned the crowd for possibilities.
Tim Stone stood by the coolers, and I nudged Gia. “What about Tim? He’s on the debate team and actually nice.”
“No.” She took a sip then rearranged her thick curls to fall over her shoulder.
“Jeff Anderson? He’s cute and in my journalism class.”
She rolled her eyes, refusing to comment.
Fine. “Sam Lewison. He’s popular and involved in student council.”
“Absolutely not.” She grabbed my arm and looked at me with an intensity that drove home how important her plan was to her. “I need a prom king, a guy who already has the senior class in his pocket so I can slide into girlfriend space and be adored as his queen.”
“That sounds like a nightmare.”
She huffed. “It is to you, but to me… it’s everything. I want this, Sky.”
The unfamiliar ground left me desperately wanting to go home. The press of bodies made my skin itch, and way too many jocks and cheerleaders ambled about. It wasn’t my scene, and I hated the people there. I had gone to the academy in the first place for its stellar writing program and because Gia was there.
I turned toward the gate, wondering if she would miss me if I bolted to the beach. “This is silly.” I stepped in the direction of salvation.
“Sky, come on,” Gia pleaded and latched onto my arm, holding me in place. “Please stay and help.”
Everything in me stilled. I couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to. Tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome just walked into the party through the gate where I had been plotting my escape. Damon Savage. I had talked a big game with him earlier, but the truth was, he affected me too much. For Christ’s sake, he looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Gia nodding. “Oh, yeah. That’s him.”
Sheer panic raced through my blood, and I whirled to face her. “No. You can’t be serious.”
“The name Savage is apt for those boys.” Gia licked her lips.
My mouth fell open. She looked like she planned to eat him up. I couldn’t let her do it. “Gia, he’s an asshole of the worst kind. You need to find someone else. You won’t get him to do anything you want. Trust me.”
She turned heavy-lidded eyes that swirled deviously with whatever plot she had concocted. “You agreed to help, and that’s the guy. And”—she glanced to where Damon had stopped—“you need to help me separate him from the herd.”
Her bad idea had disaster written all over it. With no choice, I approached Damon with her. Dark-blue eyes swung our way and locked on me. I felt trapped and panicky, especially because I hadn’t told Gia about what had happened earlier in the day. She would be devastated if she found out Damon hit on me. Not that I would act on anything from a dumb jock.
