Trophy: High School Bully Romance (Kennedy Academy Book 3) Read online

  He’s a principal, for God’s sake. If I hit him then I might as well kiss a college scholarship goodbye.

  “I guess that I made someone else mad.” It takes all of my self-control to slow my breathing and calm down, but if I’m going to make it out of this, hell, if I’m going to get to be the one to teach Nora a lesson, then I need to keep my cool. “I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry.”

  He scoffs. “Hell, yeah, you will. You’ll clean it up and replace the books. I’ll send the janitor to you, but you’re the one doing the work, do you understand?”

  Nodding, I clench my fists so tightly that my nails cut into my palms. Oh, I’ll do the work, alright. I’ll do the work when I get Nora to myself. He nods at me, a curt movement, then clamps his bandana back over his mouth before threading his way through the hall. The bell rings, cutting through the silence.

  It’s like everyone suddenly comes back to life. All of the students start walking to their classes, keeping their eyes on me. They all give me a wide berth, except one.

  “Are you going to kill her?” Robby leans on the locker next to mine, keeping his feet from the growing puddle. “This had to be Nora, right?”

  Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. Hell yeah, it was Nora. I nod at him but don’t answer.

  “Want me to find her for you?” He looks overeager. Normally, I would be happy to have someone help me find her and keep an eye on her, but right now I don’t want anyone else around her. I have to be the one to find Nora and make her pay for this.

  “No, I’m going to handle it.” He looks disappointed. “But you just let me know if you hear anyone talking about retaliation, okay?” Robby nods and stretches before walking to class.

  “Keep me updated,” he calls over his shoulder. I lift my hand in a wave and lean back against the locker, waiting for the janitor. It’s going to be a long damn afternoon.

  ***

  “Cute stunt today, Nora.” I’m making sure that my voice sounds as calm as possible, especially since I’m raging on the inside. The janitor made me throw my letter jacket away and didn’t even give me the option to take it home to try to clean it. When I raised a stink, Mr. Colter suddenly appeared and forced the issue.

  No letter jacket. No books. None of the notes or homework that I’d completed. Not that I had a lot in my locker, but still. It stung to see everything get thrown in a stinky wet mass into the trash.

  On the plus side, I did get the cock off of my locker. It was pure luck that I slammed a wet rag against the door, but when it started to wipe off, I managed to remove it in just a few minutes.

  She doesn’t answer. Glancing over at her, I see that she’s staring out the window, doing her best to ignore me. “And I removed my cock, thanks to you and your turpentine, so that’s cool.”

  This makes her look at me. She pulls her face into a grotesque smile, distorting her pretty eyes. Dammit, I am not supposed to think that she’s pretty, but there’s something about her that makes it hard for me to look away. No matter how angry I am at her, I can’t forget how good it felt to sink my cock into her, to be the first person to claim Nora for my own. I loved it, and dammit, I can’t stop thinking about it.

  “So I did take your cock off. That’s refreshing to know. Now I have my sights set on the real thing, you know.” She gestures to my lap and my cock twitches in my jeans. Gritting my teeth, I look forward, not wanting to look at her.

  I know that clothes shouldn’t make that big of a difference in how someone looks, but I swear, I’ve never seen Nora look hotter. Except maybe when she was wrapped in just that towel in her room. That was a vision for the spank bank, I swear. The black tank top and heavy eyeliner she has on is just enough to make her stand out from the rest of the girls at school without her still looking homeless.

  “You also ruined my letter jacket.” My voice is calm and steady but I know that she can hear the undercurrent of anger. She’s not stupid, even though she does some fucking dumb things sometimes.

  “I didn’t ruin your letter jacket. You shouldn’t have left it where someone could accidentally spill turpentine on it.” Rolling her eyes, she sighs, then leans over and picks some imaginary lint off of my leg. My muscle tightens in my jeans and I have to keep my hands clamped on the wheel to avoid reaching out to touch her. “Maybe next time you’ll be more careful with the things that are important to you.”

  Is that a dig at how I’ve been treating her? I’m pretty sure that it is, but when I look at her, she looks unamused. Bored, even. Not like someone who’s in the middle of a high-stakes emotional game.

  I don’t like not being in charge. Instead of responding, I focus on the road. I just need to get her home and get away from her. A little time walking in the woods by myself is exactly what I need to clear my head and forget about what a cunt she is. About what a cunt she has.

  Pulling up in front of the house, I stop the truck, but I don’t bother turning it off. “Get out,” I tell her, my teeth gritted tight.

  “You’re not coming in? I thought that maybe I could make us a nice afternoon snack.” Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, but I risk a glance in her direction anyway, and then immediately wish that I hadn’t. Her gorgeous lips are pulled back in a sneer.

  “I’ve got much better things to do than spend time with you, Nora.” I try to sound bored, but it isn’t until she finally sighs and gets out of the truck, slamming the door hard enough to make me wince, that I can relax. Good. Now that she’s gone, I can get out of here for a while.

  Normally, I’d go for a walk in the woods behind our house, but I don’t want to risk her coming out there and accidentally running into her. I need some fresh air to clear my head. I used to be able to do that on the football field, but she took that from me.

  Then she took my letter jacket. She’s slowly ruining everything good that I have in my life. I don’t want to hate her, but fuck, she makes it hard.

  Tearing down the driveway, I turn sharply to the right when I reach the main road. I just need to get away for a bit. Clear my head. Try to breathe. I can’t seem to breathe when I’m around Nora, no matter if there’s turpentine involved or not.

  Chapter 3

  Nora

  The last thing I want to do is mope around the house and wait for Mrs. Ward or Teague to come home, so I drop my backpack in my bedroom and check out the mark on the floor from the turpentine. His mom must not have seen the way the liquid removed the finish from the floor or she would have killed me by now. The room looks awful, and if these really are original hardwood floors then it’s probably ruined.

  I’d pretend like it wasn’t my problem, but right now, everything is my problem. Teague has managed to make me his issue, which is why it felt so good to pour the turpentine into his locker.

  I still can’t believe that he didn’t turn me over to the principal, though. The fact that he didn’t makes me shiver. He probably just has something else planned for me, that’s all.

  Something worse than detention.

  Taking a deep breath, I lean out of my bedroom and peek down the hall. I’m the only one home right now, but I have no idea how long that is going to last. Teague’s room is just a short distance away. I’ve been in there before, when I stole the money, but I haven’t really had a chance to explore.

  And if this is really war with Teague, then I need to make sure that I have all of my ammunition ready to go. Taking a deep breath, I pad carefully down the hall, pausing every few feet to listen and make sure that he hasn’t suddenly decided to come home. Him driving up to the house right now would easily be the worst thing that could happen.

  He doesn’t come and in a few minutes I’m in his room, turning a slow circle. This is Teague’s safe space, and I want to know what makes him tick.

  The fact that I’ve never really spent time in a boy’s room before isn’t lost on me, and I shiver as I look around. His bed is huge, and I can’t help but wonder if he sleeps naked. Blushing hard, I walk over to his desk and slide a pack of
papers to the side so I can flip through them.

  Most of them are graded assignments from school, but he also has his football schedule in this pile. I flick past it, uninterested in a sport that he may not even be allowed to play for much longer. The last thing in the stack of papers is in a manilla envelope that’s been ripped open. The flap was torn so that it won’t close, and I eagerly slip my whole hand inside, looking for something good.

  I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I’d love something that I can use to make Teague’s life as much of a living hell as he has made mine. It’s a full-size envelope but there’s only one small thing down in the bottom corner of the envelope. After groping around for a moment, I pull out a key.

  It doesn’t look like a car key or a house key. Stumped, I sit down on the edge of his bed, barely paying attention to how I sink into the soft mattress until a delicious smell wafts up from the covers. Teague always smells amazing, like spices and caramel, and his room is no different. For a moment, I almost forget why I’m in there, and I take a deep breath, enjoying how his scent plays in my nose.

  What would it be like to sleep in here?

  The thought is completely unbidden, and I shake my head to dispel it, focusing instead on the key in my hand. It’s only a few inches long and looks like the key to a lockbox or a safe. I turn it over and over, squeezing it tight, but it only feels like a lump of cold metal.

  It’s not going to give up its secrets that easily.

  I sigh, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear and stand up to put the key back in the envelope when I hear the front door open and slam shut. Immediately ice shoots through my veins and my pulse goes through the roof. I don’t know who it is, but nobody in the Ward family is going to be happy to see me in his room.

  As quietly as possible, I tiptoe across his room to his desk and lift up the envelope, but right as I’m about to drop the key into it, a voice calls my name and the key slips from my hand, falling to the floor and bouncing under his bed.

  “Nora?” It’s Mrs. Ward. “I need to talk to you, come here.”

  Closing my eyes and swallowing hard, I count to five. “I’ll be right there, Mrs. Ward!” Hopefully, she won’t be able to tell what room my voice is coming from. Dropping to my knees, I peer under his bed, but I don’t see the key. It’s dark under there, and I have to grit my teeth and swipe my hand underneath it in a desperate attempt to grab it.

  “Make it snappy, Nora!” Her voice floats up the staircase and down the hall and I freeze, but she doesn’t come upstairs.

  Make it snappy? I never thought that I’d hear those words from her. In fact, that’s something that my mom used to say. Before. My heart squeezes as I frantically pat the floor under his bed.

  No dice.

  This reminds me of the time when I was younger and playing dress-up with my mom’s jewelry. I should not have been in her jewelry box, but I was obsessed with trying on her necklaces. Everything was fine, the babysitter had fallen asleep, and I had on her favorite sapphire necklace.

  Before I could get it off and get back in bed, though, she came home early, and I panicked. Instead of unhooking the necklace, I yanked it as hard as I could. The chain broke and the pendant went skittering across the floor. I can still hear the sound of it sliding across the wood floor when I close my eyes.

  My mom walked in to find me sobbing and trying to pull it out from under her dresser. What I remember the most is her dropping down to her knees to help me look for the pendant and to help me pull it out from under the dresser. I don’t think that Teague or his mother will be as forgiving as she was.

  Closing my eyes, I say a little prayer – to who, I don’t know – and stretch my arm farther than before. Against all odds, my fingers close around the key. Yanking it out, I blow off the dust bunnies that came with it and stand up.

  The smart thing to do would be to put it back in the envelope and put it on his desk. This way, Teague would never even know that I was in his room. But there’s a little voice in the back of my head telling me that I should hang onto it.

  That it may be worth something in the future.

  That maybe I can use it to my advantage.

  Without giving it more thought, I slip the key into my pocket. It feels heavy there, like I can actually feel the weight of my sin of stealing. Trying to ignore it pressing into my thigh, I readjust the papers on his desk and walk out of his room, closing his door halfway behind me.

  There. Nobody will ever know.

  Well, not until he notices that the key is missing. As soon as he figures that out, I know that I’m screwed. He’ll know that I’m the one who took it, of that I have no doubt. And when he comes for me? Well, I guess I better be ready.

  My head feels swimmy and light as I start walking towards the stairs. Mrs. Ward is at the bottom of them, tapping her foot. “It’s about time, Nora. I was about to come up there and look for you myself!” She pauses, slowly sliding her eyes up and down my body as I walk down the stairs. “You look guilty. What have you done?”

  “Me?” I stop a few stairs up so that I’m a bit taller than her. “I haven’t done anything.” She squints at me and I feel my palms start to sweat. Suddenly the idea of taking the key with me feels even dumber than before, but there’s no way that she knows I have it. She’s evil, sure, but she’s not a mind reader. I’m fairly positive of that.

  “Is that how you want to start this conversation?” She raises one perfectly tweezed eyebrow at me and waits. The crushing guilt of stealing the key is weighing on me and I shift on the stair. When I don’t answer right away, she continues. “I’m sure that there’s something upstairs that you’ve done that you need to apologize for.”

  What. The. Hell.

  Raising my chin, I lock my eyes on hers. I don’t know what she’s getting at, but there’s no way that I’m going to let on that I stole her son’s key from his room.

  “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

  She sighs, a sound that is impossibly heavy for her slight frame. “I went into your room, Nora, to put a jacket on your bed. You may not have noticed it when you were up there just now since your floor is ruined and it’s a bit of a distraction.”

  The floor. Still not good, but definitely better than her knowing about the stolen key.

  Dipping my head, I try to look contrite. “I’m so sorry about the floor, Mrs. Ward. Teague spilled and – ”

  She cuts me off. “Don’t you dare blame Teague for your sloppiness! I never should have let you bring an easel into this house. It was only in a moment of weakness that I did, and only because I felt bad for your poor mother.”

  My back stiffens. This is the first time that she and I have really talked about my mom. “So you pity me, then?”

  The sharp lines of her jaw relax as she takes a deep breath. “Who wouldn’t? But that doesn’t mean that I’m happy about you ruining my floor. You need to fix it and get rid of the easel. This afternoon.” She scoffs at the look on my face. “I’m sorry for the hand that you’ve been dealt, Nora, but that doesn’t mean that I have to deal with how you’ve been acting. Teague and I have done nothing if not make you feel comfortable in the house. Either the easel goes, or you, and that’s final.” She crosses her arms across her chest, a triumphant look lighting up her face.

  Panic pours through my body as I look at her, impassive and unmoving. Even though I know that it’s not going to do any good and may even hurt me in the future, I protest. “But my art! How in the world am I supposed to paint if I don’t have an easel?” Even as I’m talking, I know that I’m not making a good decision in arguing with her.

  Frowning, she pulls herself to her full height, her dark eyes boring into me. “I don’t care how you paint,” she hisses, “but you sure as hell won’t be doing it under my roof any longer. You will get rid of the easel, Nora, and you will do it today or you will have to find someone else’s charity to take advantage of. I didn’t invite you into my home to accus
e my son of rape and then to ruin the floor, do you understand?”

  My chest is tight and I feel like I’m going to cry, but I dig my nails into my palm to distract myself with the pain. There is no way that I’m going to give her the satisfaction of crying in front of her, even though she’s taking away the one thing that I love. My art.

  That’s fine. Mrs. Ward may think that she’s won. The look on her face tells me that she’s confident that she’s broken me and that I won’t be a problem any longer, but there’s one thing that she doesn’t know.

  She may have taken away the one thing that I love, but I have the thing that she loves in her sights.

  And I’m not going to stop until I destroy him.

  Teague

  I didn’t see Nora again until this morning. She was already in bed by the time I got back from my hike in the woods behind my house, and I showered before going right to bed, running scalding water over my skin and trying to erase the feeling of what it was like to touch her body.

  She’s gotten under my skin and made herself at home and right now there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing that I can do about it. Everything about her, from the way she looks at me when she’s eating breakfast, to how she walks away from me when I drop her off at the front of the building, gives me chills.

  It’s like our bodies know that they are supposed to be together and there’s not a damn thing that I can do to break the spell. We’re two magnets, drawn together but then repelling each other at the last second. I want to be near her, hell, to be in her, but we can barely be in the same place at the same time.

  This morning, though, I don’t want to drop her off at the front of the building. Normally, I want to get as far away from her as possible, but something’s different today. We’ve burned each other with turpentine and I’m wondering if we can have a silent truce, but she seems off.