I swallow nervously and try to calm my breathing as he walks near me. Then just as I was praying he wouldn’t … the fucking bastard takes the empty seat behind me.
“Good morning, Hen,” he whispers in my ear, and I jump, a small yelp exiting my lips. His dark chuckle follows as I hear him sit back in his seat, getting comfortable.
I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath, and manage to release the hold I have on my desk. I pull out my cell with shaky hands and send Jamie a quick text since it’s obvious we can’t talk without him hearing us.
Me: I thought he was going to have to repeat junior year?
He was arrested at the end of April last school year. His arrest caused him to miss quite a bit of school. Even when he was out on bail, he didn’t go to his classes. He missed finals. He was going to have to repeat his junior year because of it.
My phone vibrates in my hands. I haven’t saved her number, so her name doesn’t show up. Good thing I remembered it.
Unknown: They decided to let him make up all his credits in summer school due to his verdict.
I grip my phone in my hands. Of course, they did. It’s his senior year. He’s a starter on the varsity football team. Scouts will be all over the star offensive tackle of Westbrook Warriors. They need to make sure they are seen. And he is a big asset since I made him more famous than the prick already was.
It fucking pisses me off more and makes me even more determined to show those fuckers how wrong they were about him.
DAX MONROE
I can smell her—watermelon lemonade. It’s just as intoxicating now as it was then. My dick is hard in my jeans, and my hands itch to slide into her long, dark hair. Pieces of it cover my desk. I take in a deep breath so I don’t end up dragging her out of class by it.
She’s been gone for four months, but the moment I saw her get out of her car, I knew nothing had changed. Henley Greene belongs to us. It doesn’t matter that I had that pussy first. She’s ours now, and we’re all going to play with her. I would prefer to just kill her now, but Law and Scout want to use her. They want to pass her around like a joint at a party until nothing’s left.
She thinks I’m a monster, and I’m all for living up to those expectations. She will beg us from her knees to end it—to put her out of her misery—and we’ll be more than happy to do it. When we decide the game is over.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out to see a text from Law to the group chat with the guys.
Law: Buzz has already started. They’re asking why she’s back.
Scout: Good, let them ask. Just don’t answer. Remember—you know nothing.
Law: Got it.
Me: I’m currently sitting right behind her in class.
Law: And?
Me: And I want to smash her face into her desk.
Law: Yeah, but I bet your dick is hard.
I roll my eyes and put my cell away.
Sitting back, I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the back of her head. Once again, I’m savoring how good revenge is going to taste.
Five months ago
I’m sitting on my bed, studying plays. Even though the season is over, Coach already has us preparing for next year. It’ll be our last one before we go off to college. I know where I want to go, and I know what I must do to make it happen.
I look up to see my father’s hired help poke his head into my open door. “Your father needs you downstairs, sir.”
I crawl off the bed and make my way down the hall and then the grand staircase. I see him standing in the foyer with two cops. “Hey, Dove.” One of the officers is my father’s best friend. His son also plays on the team, but he’s a sophomore.
“Son …” He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a pair of handcuffs.
“Whoa.” I take a step back. “What’s going on? Dad?” I turn to look at him.
“Don’t say a word, Dax,” he orders, placing his hands on his hips.
“About what?” I take another step back, my legs hitting the round table that my stepmother insists stays there for her to put fresh flowers on every week.
“I’ve already called the attorneys. They will meet me there,” my father continues, unbuttoning his Armani suit jacket and yanking his red tie free.
Attorneys? What is he talking about? “Dad … what?”
“We’re here to bring you in for questioning, Dax,” Officer Dove states.
“Questioning for what?” I demand, trying to rack my brain about what I could have possibly done.