Devil heir a stepbrother.., p.2
Devil Heir: A Stepbrother Bully Romance, page 2
With a scowl, I snap back. "You don't even know what you're talking about, Lilith. Just get out of my way so I can go to class."
Lilith's words don't hurt me. The words on my locker don't even hurt. It's the laughs and the jokes made at my expense from people who just want to be accepted by this moronic clique that is formed out of pure evil.
Half the people in it don't even like each other.
Lilith and Blaise haven't got along since they had sex freshman year and he spread it around town that Lilith practically raped him.
Then there's Wade, who tries to be good, but still follows them. He doesn’t take part in their antics but he’s always in their shadows.
Chase is just a perv and looks at girls like they are objects.
But, Lilith and her group of mean girls, they are out for blood. They ridicule anyone they think is beneath them—which is everyone—but, I’m at the top of that list. If I had to guess, it’s because she has a thing for Blaise and she’s jealous of our close living quarters.
Blaise is a bully but most of his cruelty is saved just for me. This entire school bows to these people and I have no idea why.
I spot Emery walking up, and a sweep of relief passes over me. At least I've got one person on my side.
"I said move!" I shove Lilith back, suddenly feeling fearless and powerful with backup nearby. Not that I'd expect Emery to fight my battles, but of course she'd defend me.
Forget my locker. I start toward Emery, but she tucks herself into the crowd. "Emery," I holler. "Wait up." I go to walk through the maze of students to find her, but she's gone.
"I'm not done with you, birthday girl." Lilith fists a chunk of my hair from behind me and jerks so hard that my follicles feel like they're on fire.
"Let go of me!" I screech.
She doesn't. She just pulls harder.
My backpack slides down my arm, hanging between us as my head is whipped back and forth. Everyone just stands there. Some laughing, some recording. No one even tries to get this crazy girl off me.
"Enough!" I hear Blaise shout.
Lilith loses her grip but doesn't let up.
"Get lost." Lilith snarls at Blaise, before spinning me around and slamming me against my locker.
"I said, enough!" Blaise bares his teeth, fists balled at his sides. Would he really hit a girl? Would he really hit someone to help me? “You know the rules. Now back the fuck off.”
Lilith's hands skate down to my throat, wrapping around it and squeezing, but not with enough force to cut off my air supply. "Get off me, you fucking bitch,” I howl. Tears stream down my face, but I don't even care. My heart is pounding so hard and nothing matters right now. No one matters. Screw them all.
Lilith gets right in my face. The scent of her mint gum lingering between us. "What did you just call me?"
"You heard me."
I don't even see it coming when her hand smacks me across my cheek. The sting only fuels the fire inside of me. I bring one hand up between us and grab hold of her face, palming it and squeezing so hard that my nails dig into the skin of her forehead and her cheek. Then, I drag my fingers down, clawing and dragging skin beneath my nails. Blood begins to surface as Lilith takes a step back. "My face! You scratched my fucking face." She leans in and breathes fire down my neck. "You're gonna fucking die. On the day of your birth, of all days."
Lilith parts the crowd as she walks away, her minions following behind her.
Blaise towers over me, pinning me with a scathing glare. "You done fucked up, Penny."
My stomach somersaults. I think he's right. Fighting back against Lilith James is a mistake. But, I don't regret it. Not even a little bit.
The students begin to scramble, heading to class before the bell rings. My heart rate begins to settle down with my nerves, although it's still beating kind of rapidly. "Why are you still standing there?" I ask Blaise, who's looking at me with that same death glare. My shoulders shrug. "Are you waiting for me to thank you for trying to stop Lilith?"
"Don't thank me. Lilith might've made a threat because you're an easy target and a fun toy, but if it ever comes to it, I'll be the one to carry it out. That's a promise. You see, Penny, I know what you've been doing. You act all innocent, even though you're nothing but a little whore, just like your mama."
Blaise finally stops looking at me and grabs a girl walking by. I'm not even sure who she is. I think she might be a senior cheerleader. She giggles as he grabs her by the ass and walks behind her, whispering something in her ear over her shoulder.
Once he’s done breathing down her neck, he looks back at me and winks.
He's a damn sociopath. And I've got to live with him.
All day long, all I've been able to think about are Blaise's words. Not the threat—that doesn't even faze me because I've heard so many of them—but the name he called me. A whore. Just like my mama. How can a virgin be a whore and what could I have possibly done to claim that title?
I try to brush it away for the umpteenth time, but it lingers.
"Happy birthday to my very best friend," Emery says, skipping to my side as I walk to my locker that is now only partially covered. The janitor tried to scrub it clean, but it seems the permanent marker is pretty indestructible. The principal said that since there were no witnesses, there would be no punishment and they'd have it painted by Monday morning. It's the end of the school day, and Friday, so hopefully when school resumes after the weekend, it’ll be gone.
I'm still pissed that Emery dipped out when I could have used someone on my side. So, I don't say anything to her as I grab my bag and slam my locker shut.
"Hey, are you mad at me?"
I look over at her with knitted eyebrows. Then back in front of me as we walk side by side to the exit. Emery always gives me a ride home now that she has her driver's license. I almost caught the bus but don't want to deal with people more than I have to. So, I'm sucking up just for the ride.
"What the hell did I do?"
Giving her the same look, I stop walking. "You didn't even try to help me. I was being pulled and dragged by my hair and you just hid."
Emery places a hand on my arm. "I'm sorry, Pen. She scared me, too."
"Yeah right," I huff, "you're obsessed with Lilith and her crew."
"Wanting to fit in and being obsessed are two different things. Don't you want to fit in? Or do you prefer to live in the shadows of everyone else while getting trampled on?"
"I would never be friends with that girl. Ever. She's pure evil."
"Yet, you live with the devil himself."
"You're right, I do. But not by choice," I add.
"Well," Emery snickers, waggling her brows, "what if I told you that I had a way to make it up to you?"
"I'd probably think you're up to something, in which case, I’d say forget about it."
I start walking toward the doors again, but Emery grabs my arm with excitement dripping from her touch. "We got invited!"
"To…a birthday party…for me…at your mom's house?"
"No." She chuckles. "The Devil's Night Party."
My head instantly shakes no. "Not a chance." I start walking again, this time picking up my pace.
"Pen, please. We have to go. There's this guy; he's a senior, he plays football, and he asked me to come. I said only if you could go too, and he eventually gave in. He just said not to tell Blaise that he was the one who said it was okay. But, we can go."
"No," I draw out. "You can go. That's clearly not an invitation for me. I prefer to stay alive, at least for tonight."
We reach the parking lot and as soon as I spot him, my stomach twists in knots. "What in the world?"
"Holy shit, Pen. Is that for you?" Emery beams as she jogs up to my side.
"I've got no idea what's going on." We walk closer to where Blaise stands with his ass propped up on the hood of a silver BMW with a giant bow on top of it.
"Umm, call me crazy, but I think that's yours." Emery keeps talking, but I don't hear a word she says as we approach Blaise.
"What is this?" I wave my hands at the car he sits on top of. It's most definitely not a gift from him; otherwise, he wouldn't look like he wants to toss me in the trunk and drive it off a cliff.
"It's a gift. From your dear old stepdad." He hops down and eats up the space between us. "He asked me to wait out here with it since he and your bitch of a mom had to go on a business trip."
"But, why? Why would Richard buy me something so expensive?"
Blaise leans in, his lips flush to my ear. "I'm sure you know exactly why. After all, you are his little whore." Blaise tosses the keys at me, then walks toward his own car.
"What?" I mutter under my breath, looking down at the keys in my hand.
Does he think I'm having sex with his dad?
"Girl, this thing is fucking amazing," Emery hollers from the driver's seat, where she's checking out the interior.
"Get out of there. I'm not taking this thing." I walk over to where she sits and pull her out by her arm. I will never accept anything from Richard. He's a pig, and even though he has never touched me, I know he wants to.
The guy gives me the creeps. And, apparently, Blaise has already made the assumption that I have been having sex with his dad. "I feel sick," I tell Emery. "Please, just take me home."
I need to clear the air and set Blaise straight.
After prying Emery off the car, I finally convinced her that I wasn't taking it and we went to her house, leaving the car sitting in the school parking lot. "I still think you're insane for not accepting the gift. It's your birthday. Everyone gets presents."
"Not those kinds of presents, and not from people like Richard." I didn't tell her about Blaise's accusations. Just the thought makes bile climb up my throat.
Blaise is already gone, probably helping set up at the party spot in the woods. I really need to talk to him tonight.
"Okay," I spit out on impulse. "One hour. That's it."
"You're lying?" Emery jumps off the bed and stares at me like I just bought her a damn BMW.
"We disguise ourselves, and when I say it's time to go, we go."
"I fucking love you." She throws herself into my arms and I smile, knowing that this is making her extremely happy. This is all Emery has ever wanted. To fit in. To be somebody instead of nobody.
I just hope I don't live to regret it.
CHAPTER 1
PENELOPE
Two years later
My sweaty palms white-knuckle the steering wheel. I never wanted to come back to this town—the town that I once called home. I never once looked back. Nor did I ever miss the place. I can count on one hand the number of friends I made when I was here and I haven’t spoken to any of them since I left. Not even the one I considered my best friend—Emery. In that regard, she’s better off. All I did was drag her down.
I can also count on one hand the number of times that my mom has come to visit me—exactly once. She treats me as if I just up and left her for no reason at all. The truth is, I left for a good reason; she just didn’t hear my cries. Either that, or, she chose to ignore them.
It doesn’t matter. I’m living a good life in Portland. I’ve got real friends and a family that love me. I might not have all the luxuries I did at my mom’s house in Skull Creek, but I never wanted those things anyway. This town holds my mom’s dreams, not mine. For me, it’s a black hole of harrowing memories and a mountain of regret.
I got out, though. And even if I’m back, it’s only temporary. One week and I’ll return home. Hopefully, my body will still be intact and my heart will still be viable. You just never know what to expect when you cross paths with Blaise Hale—aka, my stepbrother.
As I turn onto my mom’s road, my heart begins galloping in my chest. I creep slowly, very slowly down the street, until a car comes flying up behind me, laying on the horn. I pick up my speed and glance back at it in my rearview mirror. It’s a small, black sports car with tinted windows. It’s also loud, but I assume it’s meant to be.
I continue to accelerate, but the car behind me doesn’t let up as they ride my ass. It only adds to my anxiety as I draw closer to the Hale estate. “Get off my ass!” I howl, staring back at the driver through the mirror, even though I can’t see him or her, and they can’t hear me either. In one minute, I’ll turn off this road and they can continue on their merry way, while I enter hell, as I like to call it.
With a flick of the blinker, I tap my brakes, hoping this asshole lays off a bit and doesn’t rear-end me.
Granted, I know my car is nothing fancy, but I bought it with my own money—hard-earned money at that. I can’t say the same for most of the kids in this rich town. Richard bought me a car for my sixteenth birthday and I never even started it. He would have bought me anything I wanted. Money was no object to him, but allowance meant acceptance, and I refused to accept the screwed-up lives these people live. Well, used to live. Richard passed away last week. That’s why I’m here. Don't get me wrong, I’m not the least bit sad. I suppose when you disengage from the life that another person is living, you also turn off all empathy toward that person.
Richard wasn’t home often, but when he was, he made it known. He was creepy. Always making disgusting comments and undressing me with his eyes. He never touched me, but I’m sure he would have if I’d allowed it. Mom was always a bit envious of the attention Richard gave me—as if she thought I was the only one in the world who could steal him away from her. Even if it was just his attention I was taking. Not that I wanted it. I couldn’t stand the guy.
Richard traveled a lot for work, even as his cancer progressed, and Mom often traveled with him, leaving me here with his spawn, the devil. Part of me will always resent her for that. For turning a blind eye to the hell I was living in. It’s not so much the hell Blaise put me through, it’s the fact that I followed him down and allowed it to happen. I was a doormat—a weak and pitiful doormat.
Blaise made it known to the entire school that I was off-limits. Not to be looked at, befriended, or bullied. No, the bullying was left to him and him alone. Some listened. Some did not. Lilith James being one of those who went against everything he said and added to the misery that was my life. She was the female version of Blaise.
None of that matters, though. I’ve changed and I dare him or Lilith to try and pull that shit on me again.
At least, I hope I have. I guess time will tell.
My entire body shivers when I realize the car behind me has turned down the driveway to the house. Now that we’re stopped at the gate, I’m able to feel the vibration of the heavy metal music blasting through the speakers of his car.
It has to be him. I can feel it in my bones.
Rolling down my window, I stretch my hand out and tap the buzzer to have the gate opened. I will not let Blaise give me entrance. I refuse to engage with him.
Dammit, I shouldn’t have come here. Nothing good can come of being back in Blaise’s space.
I’m only here for Mom, I remind myself, yet again. No matter how many excuses I made up in my head to get out of this, none of them seemed good enough to use. I really think in some sick way, she loved Richard. Even if it did all start because she was after his money. She doesn’t know I know her motives, but I do. I know Mom better than anyone. She’s always desired expensive things and wanted to live like a Kennedy. Well, she did and now she’s bathing in millions because her husband died, leaving her every penny he owned. Wonder how Blaise feels about that? Chills skate down my spine at the thought. His horns probably grew six inches when he got that news.
The wrought iron gate begins to open for me, and I didn’t even have to introduce myself. My guess is, Mom told them I was coming. Probably said, “Don’t call the cops if you see a rusted-out, old white Ford at the gate, it’s just Penelope.”
My entire body jumps when the asshole behind me begins laying on his horn again. I snap myself out of my thoughts and realize that I’ve just been sitting here with the gate wide open. That’s sure to earn me a few sly remarks, maybe even a bucket of pig's blood over my head while I’m showering. Yes, he did that. It was the day of my first period. Mom decided to run her mouth and Blaise thought it would be a good opportunity to be a jerk. I showered for three hours to make sure it was all off me.
I’m rolling down the driveway at a leisurely pace—deep breath in, deep breath out—when Blaise revs the engine of his car and swerves to the side of me. His passenger door is almost touching my driver’s side when I glance over at him. The windows are pitch-black, but there is no doubt he can see me. As long as he can’t see the pool of sweat beneath my hands or hear the pounding of my heart, I’ll be okay. Blaise has always had an insatiable hunger for my fear.
I go to raise my hand to flip him off, but he accelerates and pulls in front of me, forcing me to slam on my brakes, so I’m not the one rear-ending him. “Asshole!” I shout, knowing that, once again, he did not hear me.
He’s probably laughing his ass off right now as my blood is boiling.
I will not let him get to me.
Finally, I make it down the long driveway, stopping in the roundabout, unsure where I should park. I’ve never driven here. I was sixteen and without a car when I left and never once came to visit. It’s just as I remember it, though. A big-ass house full of nothing. Nine bedrooms, six bathrooms, and a basement big enough to bury a thousand bodies beneath it, and a shitload of things. That’s all it has. Things that mean nothing to me but everything to people who live here because they are shiny and expensive.
I hate this house. I hate the memories inside of it. All the feelings I pushed away and swore I’d never feel again come rushing back as I shift the car into park. Blaise hasn’t got out yet. His music is still bumping, in what I assume to be his parking space right in front of the four-stall garage. I’m hoping he stays put—at least until I get to my room and lock the door. Maybe I can get away with just staying in there for the entire week. Aside from my attendance at the funeral, I’m not sure why I can’t.
