Cruel Devils Read online

  Cruel Devils

  A Dark Reverse Harem Bully Romance

  Devils of Meyer’s Grove 1

  Mae Doyle

  Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  This is a work of art/fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events, or places is purely coincidental. Any persons appearing on the cover image for this book are models and do not have any connection to the contents of this story.

  All characters depicted in this work are unrelated consenting adults. This author assumes no responsibility for the use/misuse of this material.

  © 2020 Mae Doyle

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  Chapter 1

  They say that sometimes death comes so quietly that it’s like it was always a part of you. Like it’s the music that your mom always plays in the kitchen when she’s making dinner or the cologne that your dad wears.

  I’ve even heard it said that death is like an old friend that you are happy to see, happy to have around. That some people long for death and even welcome it with open arms, especially when they’re weary and they’ve done all of the things with their lives that they wanted to.

  That’s the kind of death I want.

  Not right now, of course. I mean, I’m exhausted. I hate having to stay late to work on plays, even though my parents think that it will look great on college applications. I made the mistake of one time telling them that I thought the theater was cool.

  Now I’m covered in paint and sore from head to toe. At least nobody has ever tried to get me to act. They probably know that it would be a huge fucking mistake. No, I’m much happier in the background, running things from behind the scenes.

  Romeo and Juliet. The fucking love story to end all love stories. It’s not the play that I would have chosen, but I didn’t have much of a say in the decision.

  All I do is paint the set and move the pieces around. It’s my job to make sure that Romeo has the poison when he goes in to kill himself.

  See? Silent. Peaceful. Calm, even, and welcome – to a point.

  He didn’t really want to die, but I’ve always been amazed at how quickly and willingly Juliet followed him. Just chugged the poison, throwing it down her throat like it was the best thing she’d ever tasted. It’s not for me. I plan on clinging to life as hard as I can.

  The great thing about living close to school is that I get to walk home. I stand for a moment, my hand on the front gate, and look up at the starts. It’s gorgeous out, all crisp and cool. Fall has the best smells, and I take a huge whiff.

  Usually, even from out here, I can smell what my mom’s made for dinner. She always makes sure that I have something hot to eat before bed, especially since I’ll be up for a bit doing homework. It’s a drag, for sure, but if it gets me closer to my dream college, then I guess I’ll survive.

  I walk through the gate, making sure to shut it tight behind me so that Rufus, our giant black lab, doesn’t get out in the morning when dad lets him out to pee. He’s probably already curled up by the foot of my bed, waiting on me to give him a snuggle before I pass out.

  The thought makes me smile, but I stop as I get closer to the house.

  I still can’t smell dinner, but I smell something else. Taking a huge whiff, I try to figure out what the smell is. It’s not one that I’m familiar with.

  It’s sharp. Bitter.

  Almost metallic.

  “Mom?” I call out, shivering a little at the way my voice echoes back at me. For the first time on my walk home, the night doesn’t feel as comfortable and forgiving as when I first started out. When I reach for the kitchen door, I’m surprised to see that it’s open.

  Not all the way, but a crack.

  My dad hates cracked doors. It sounds ridiculous, but he’s always going on about not wanting to heat and cool the neighborhood. There’s no way that he’d want the door left open on a night like this.

  Not when it’s so chilly out.

  I shiver, pulling my jacket closer around my body and step into the kitchen. The metallic smell in here is almost overwhelming, and I have to cover my nose with my arm to be able to breathe. It’s thick and rich and it gets into my nostrils, trying to choke or drown me.

  “Dad? Mom?” My voice is muffled by my jacket, but I know that they should be able to hear me. When they don’t answer, I drop my arm from my face and call louder. “Rufus?”

  Nothing. Even if he was sound asleep, he should hit the floor running and come meet me here. My stomach twists as I realize that there’s something really wrong here and I don’t know what it is.

  I choke back a sob as I reach out for the light. Mom never has the house completely dark when I’m going to be walking home. She’s always here waiting for me, and the fact that she’s not tells me that something’s going on.

  Something bad.

  As soon as I hit the light, I suck in a gasp and try to shield my eyes from what I’m seeing, but I’m too late. There’s no way that I can ever forget the dark blood splattered across the walls, dripping down the cabinets, and pooling on the floor.

  I’m frantic now. “Mom!? Dad!” They don’t answer and I stumble through the kitchen, not even caring that I’m stepping in blood. It’s everywhere. I can’t avoid it.

  I don’t manage to make it to the living room before stumbling over something in the hall. It’s Rufus, his dark fur matted to his body with blood.

  “No!” I scream, dropping to my knees. The blood instantly starts to soak through my jeans, but I don’t care. Nothing matters right now, because if Rufus is dead, then…

  I already know what happened to my mom and dad.

  “No,” I whisper, digging my fingers into his fur. He doesn’t move, and I finally look up into the living room. From here, I can see feet. My mom always wears the most ridiculous slippers around the house, and my dad always makes fun of her for it.

  Even so, he continues to buy them for her. These are oversized bear paws with huge claws that click on the floor when she walks.

  Walked. When she walked.

  I fumble my phone from my pocket and call 911. Never in my life have I had to dial that number. The voice on the other end of the line is cool and calm. Yes, they’ll send someone. No, I don’t need to do anything. What’s my name? How old am I?

  Kiera. 16. I’ll stay here.

  Nobody from the street comes to help, not even when a large unmarked white van comes and loads my parents up to take them away. They step over Rufus like he’s not even there.

  When I asked if they would take his body and cremate it, one of them laughed. My stomach dropped at the sound, even when he apologized.

  I watch from the door as my parents are loaded up into the back of the van and then a police officer comes to talk to me.

  “Kiera?” She sounds tired, and I wonder what time she got on shift. I wonder how many double murders she’s seen.

  I nod at her. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  She squints into my face like she’s n
ot really sure that I’m here. It’s fair, though, because I’m not sure if I’m here. I’m not sure where here is.

  “We’re done here for now. The detectives are almost finished gathering evidence, and I know that they’re going to walk to talk to you, but it can wait until the morning. Who can you call? You don’t need to stay here tonight. You need somewhere where you can shower and clean up before you get some rest.” There’s a flash of concern on her face and I try not to hate her for it.

  I don’t want her concern.

  “I have friends.” My voice sounds different than it normally does. Weaker, maybe, or thick. The thought that my parents’ blood made the air so heavy that it affected my voice makes me weak in the knees and I grab the doorframe.

  The officer looks at me suspiciously and sighs. “I can’t stop you from staying here, Kiera, but I can tell you that I don’t think it’s a good idea. I think that going somewhere where you can be safe and where someone will take care of you is a good idea, okay?”

  I nod at her. “I understand. Thanks.”

  She turns away and I watch from the doorway as they all leave. They drove up with flashing lights but leave quietly. Emergency over.

  It takes me the better part of an hour to drag Rufus out into the yard and cover him with a tarp and to start cleaning up the blood. My morning alarm goes off and I blink at the windows, shocked to see the sun coming up.

  I’ll shower and go to bed.

  Taking one day off of school won’t kill me, and I’m sure that my teachers will understand.

  By the time I finally clean up and crawl into bed, I feel like I could sleep for a year.

  ***

  But I don’t. Unfortunately, the next thing that I know, someone is ringing the doorbell over and over again. They barely give it a chance to stop ringing before mashing the button again. My head aches like I raided my dad’s liquor cabinet, and at first, I just pull the covers over my head.

  Then I remember.

  My parents.

  Rufus.

  All of the blood.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes and roll over, swinging my legs out of bed. My head instantly begins to swim, and I have to take a moment, squeezing it between my hands, before I feel like I can move without getting sick.

  Down the hall, the person ringing the doorbell has stopped mashing the button, but resorted to banging on the door. “Kiera! I know that you’re in there! Open up!”

  I don’t recognize the voice. It’s not that I hoped that it would be a friend from school, but it makes me nervous wondering who’s out there. Who’s banging on the door? Who the hell knows that I spent the night here last night and didn’t leave the way that the police officer had wanted me to?

  By the time I make it to the door, the person is back to the doorbell. Tugging on my oversized t-shirt to make sure that I’m as covered as possible, I take a deep breath and open the door.

  No idea who this woman is, but she’s looking at me suspiciously, like she knows everything about me. “Kiera Lampley?” She asks, a hint of surprise in her voice.

  I nod, making sure to hold the door so that she can’t push her way in past me. She doesn’t look like she’s just come here to get a peek inside the house, but you can never tell with people, and I don’t want to give her a chance to push past me.

  “I’m Sonya Black, with child protective services. The police called me last night to tell me about your parents. I’m so, so sorry about what happened here.” To her credit, she does a good job trying to keep her eyes focused on my face, but I can tell that it’s difficult for her. She keeps looking past me, like she’s trying to get a glimpse of what’s inside the house.

  She doesn’t have to look far. I didn’t have time last night to even start to tackle the blood on the cupboards. I watch as her eyes widen when she sees the blood, then she looks back at me.

  “I can’t imagine what you went through last night, honey,” she says, reaching out and taking my hand. I try to pull away from her, but she squeezes it, holding me in place. “But I promise that I’ve already been working hard to make sure that we find you somewhere you can go, and I’ve done it.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, but thanks. I’m going to stay right here and finish out the year and then graduate from East High next year.” It may not be the best high school in the country, but at least I know how I fit in there. And after last night, I don’t want to make any more changes than necessary.

  “Sure, Kiera, but we can’t let you just live here on your own.” She pauses like she knows what I’m going to say, but forges on. “Can I come in so that we’ll be a bit more comfortable talking?”

  I eyeball her. “You’d be more comfortable on a blood-stained sofa?” My voice is flat and I realize with a start that I don’t sound like myself. I’d be unnerved by it if I weren’t too busy focusing on her.

  Sonya shakes her head. “Listen, Kiera, this is a shock. You’re in shock, which I understand, but I’m going to make it all better, okay. You just have to trust me.” She’s speaking to me like I’m about to bolt and make a run for it. Given what she does for a living, it’s an understandable fear.

  “And how are you going to do that? Bring them back?” She’s got on a sicky sweet perfume and I suddenly feel like I’m about to choke in it. The scene is overwhelming and I try to take just small sips of air, but it’s getting down my throat.

  Her nostrils flare and I’m surprised to see a muscle I her jaw twitch. Maybe Sonya Black isn’t as nice as she tried to be at first. I shouldn’t feel good about pissing her off, but I like knowing that I have a little control over the situation.

  “Kiera, you’ve been through hell, and nobody would expect you to act any differently than you are right now. What you had to see last night, no child should see that.” A neighbor drives down the street with his music turned up loud, and she turns to look at him, a frown on her face.

  When she turns back to me, it takes her a moment to refocus. “You’re going to go live with your aunt and uncle. They have a place in Hawaii, and they’ve agreed to take you in.”

  “Hawaii?” Now I do pull my hand back from her. “I don’t want to go there. I want to stay here.” Here, in the cool mountains that I’ve known all my life. Even though I lost my parents, I think that I can still feel close to them if I don’t leave. “Besides, I’ve never met my aunt and uncle. They hated my parents.”

  She nods like she’s considering what I’m saying, but I know she’s already made up her mind. “They’re taking you in, Kiera, and you should be happy about that. It’s a chance for you to start fresh without any of the problems you would face here. You may not like it, but you don’t have a choice.”

  Chapter 2

  Hawaii is nothing like home. As soon as I get all of my luggage and pull it through the airport, some girl in a grass skirt and bikini top shoves a lei over my head and dances around me. I’m out of place in my old hoodie and jeans and instantly sweating as soon as the sliding doors open to spit me out into my new home.

  Part of me hopes that my aunt and uncle would be there waiting for me to grab my luggage. On the flight over, I even had a hope that they’ll be holding a sign for me and standing in the front of the crowd so that I am able to easily spot them.

  I just lost my family, and the thought of having other people who love me waiting on me is so sweet that, for just a moment, I allow myself a daydream. They won’t ever replace my parents, of course, but to have somewhere that I can call home while I pick up all of my pieces and put myself back together would be a very good thing.

  But when the crowd disperses and there isn’t anyone there waiting on me, I simply grab my bags and struggle out of the airport by myself. The sunshine is almost overbearing, and so bright that I immediately dig my sunglasses out of my backpack.

  They’re from the dollar store, like most of my crap, and I feel almost self-conscious putting them on. Everyone here looks like they walked out of a magazine and I can’t help but feel out o
f place.

  “Kiera?” The man calling my name sounds almost bored, but I turn with relief anyway. It feels so good to have someone here know my name, but as soon as I see him, my smile falls off of my face.

  He’s huge, built like a quarterback, with perfectly styled hair and a tan that you only get from lounging on the beach in Hawaii. Not only is his suit perfectly tailored, but it looks like it’s made from a light linen so he won’t swelter in the heat.

  Somehow, I missed the memo that it was going to be hot here. I mean, obviously, it’s going to be warmer than home, but if it’s going to be this hot all the time then I’m definitely going to have to rethink my clothing choices. Not that I’ll ever dress like him, of course, but still. My jean shorts may just have to make an appearance.

  “Hi, yes!” I call, and he glances up at me but when his phone rings, he immediately swipes his thumb across it and answers it. Even as he speaks on the phone, his eyes rake over me.

  “She’s here, yeah. Last one out of the airport.” He gives me a judging look as he lets his eyes slide up my body. “Looks nothing like her father.” When he pauses like he’s listening to someone, I try to smile at him, but I’m so overwhelmed that I’m sure it looks forced.

  This place is nothing like home. I’ve never even been out of West Virginia before. Our class was going to take a field trip to a Virginia beach later in the year, but I’m going to miss that now. Shit. There are a lot of things that I’m going to miss, but I can’t let myself dwell on that right now.

  How can Hawaii be a part of the United States? The air is so hot and crisp that I’m immediately drenched in sweat, and everyone around me is just as gorgeous as my uncle. They all look like they walked out of a page in a magazine, which makes me even more uncomfortable.

  I don’t fit in here. It’s painfully obvious not only in the way that I’m dressed, but in my attitude. I’ve never seen so many people with perfect hair and clothes and the attitudes to match. Like they’re all owed something. It would be incredible, like going to the zoo or visiting somewhere where you don’t speak the language, if this wasn’t going to be my new reality for the foreseeable future. While I’m looking around in amazement, my uncle hangs up the phone with an angry jab and finally speaks to me.