“Yes, of course. Sweetheart, what happened is a big deal. It’s not as if it was just some prank, like teenagers toilet-papering your house or some other bullshit. This is far worse and veers into serious vandalism. Plus, it must be a hate crime too. I mean, fuck it – scrawling “SLUT” on your wall? They mean business.”
Cleo nods and buries her face against my neck again.
“Yeah, that’s part of the reason why I think it’s Katrina and Morgan. Only they know about my interlude in Santa’s lap. As long as they haven’t told anyone,” she adds in a barely-there whisper. “But I think they already have.”
I pull back again, staring at those terrified brown eyes.
“What do you mean?” I ask in a slow voice.
Cleo bites her lip, looking down.
“Well, there have been rumors going around…”
Oh shit.
“Rumors?” I growl, raising my eyebrows. “What kind of rumors?”
The curvy girl sighs, readjusting herself in my lap. “When I walked into my English class this morning, I heard whispers, and people were staring at me. At first, I thought that I was being paranoid because of everything that’s happened, but then I realized that that’s not it. They weredefinitelytalking about me.”
“What were they saying?” I immediately demand.
Cleo looks down again, her lips trembling.
“I couldn’t hear everything because the lecture was going on at the same time. But I definitely heard the words ‘slut’ and ‘Santa’s slut.’ So yes, I think Morgan and Katrina are telling other people what we did over Christmas break.”
I begin to growl as the rage rises in my chest.
“Fuck!”
The pretty girl nods miserably, swiping at her eyes again.
“I know,” she says in a broken whisper. “It’s a disaster. It gets even worse, Brody, and I don’t even know if I should tell you this…”
“What?” I immediately demand, my blue eyes like icy fire.
The young woman inhales deeply before letting out a shuddering breath.
“During class, I was passed a note. I don’t who drew it, or who sent it because it was one of those daisy-chain things. But when I opened the folded piece of paper, there was a crude caricature of a girl sitting on Santa’s lap while moaning things like, “Give Me Cock” and “Fuck Me Hard.””
“What?” I rage, unable to keep the outburst inside any longer. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She shakes her head again, cowering a little now.
“No,” Cleo whispers. “It’s true, I swear. I threw away the note immediately, but it really happened.”
That sets off another crying jag, and I hold her curvy form close, trying to console the girl while controlling my anger at the same time. My big body’s shaking because I’m so angry, and I’m determined to make those mean girls pay.
“We’ll figure it out,” I growl in a grim voice. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll avenge you.”
Cleo sniffles again.
“It’s my fault. I should have never opened my big mouth and blabbed about us. I wish I’d never said anything.”
I growl as I pull that curvy form closer to me, kissing her head.
“No sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry about because you did nothing wrong. But believe me when I tell you that we’re going to wreak havoc on those bitches because they damn sure aren’t going to get away with this. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it,” I reiterate in a grim voice. Then, my lips come crashing down on Cleo’s mouth, sealing my promise. After all, this woman has been injured and as her protector, I have only one purpose in life: to seek vengeance on her behalf, and to inflict as much pain and agony as possible while I’m doing it.
8