Am I an idiot? Am I being led by my dick right now?How could I implode my whole life, all my plans, and put myself at risk like this? I saw that look on Gerald Weyburn's face, the fucker is vindictive, just like his son, and the idea of me touching and soiling his new stepdaughter, and the fact that I refused to cower in front of him, and ask for mercy, doesn't bode well for me. Others have disappeared without a trace for far less.
Then there's the three fuckers who drugged and chased my girl through the woods, terrorizing her with some depraved and unhinged primal play. Cross, River, and Damon don't fear me, Olly, or any repercussions for their actions. They think they can take what they want, even if it's by force. The mere thought of all the panic she must have felt, when she awoke naked and disoriented in the woods, and then was chased by three masked men, has bile racing up the back of my throat, followed by hot rage building in the pit of my stomach. They could have killed her out there. One wrong move and she could have died at their hands, and they didn't seem to care, or feel the slightest bit of remorse. What's one more death at Mayhem's hands in Soule? It's not like they wouldn't get away with it. Law enforcement here is bought and paid for by Gerald Weyburn, and Mayhem, just like most of the other businesses.
They’re untouchable, or at least they believe they are. They have secrets, and a plethora of unmarked graves, that could sink them if one knows where the bodies are buried. They need to be punished for what they've done to her, and I need to protect Olly from the storm she doesn't even realize is forming around her. She thinks she's safe, and that yesterday was an isolated moment, that the three of them will shrug it off and move on, but I know them. I know what they’re capable of in those dark, sinister hearts. Mayhem doesn't forget or forgive, and the very idea of my Lavender choosing me over them? That's a wound they'll dig their fingers into, until it bleeds and festers.
I'd rather they come for me, and I become their target. Every blow meant for her, I'd take twice, with a smile on my face. That's not nobility, it's an animalistic instinct to protect what's mine. Is it a tad irrational?Sure, but this whole situation with Olly is.The question that claws at me is how long I can keep their eyes fixed solely on me. How much time can I buy her before they circle back, and she's on their radar again?A day? An hour? Minutes?
The truth is glaringly obvious, and a jagged thing to swallow, scraping all the way down, even as I'm attempting to convince myself otherwise. They'll never lose interest in her. They can't leave her alone any more than I can. There is something about Olly that forces you to make her the center of your orbit. We're all trapped in her gravity, dragged toward her without permission or sense. Olly pulls people in the way black holes swallow stars, quietly, inevitably, without even realizing the destruction she leaves in her wake. Maybe it was always going to end like this, and we'll all go down in a fiery crash.
Fuck it!There's no point pretending or fighting it. I can't stand back and watch her make choices that lead her straight into danger. If I'm going down, if everything I've built, everything I've hidden, burns and I lose it all, I need to be by myLavender's side, protecting her, even if that's from herself. I rise, my muscles tight with decision, and reach under my dresser. My fingers close around the slick tape, and the cold metal beneath it, and grab my gun. It's my insurance policy, and now my confession of what I'm willing to become for her. I shove it into my waistband and head for the door, prepared to go to the school to try to talk some sense into her, and convince her to stay with me instead of remaining in that house, where I can't protect her. If she agrees, I'll finally be able to breathe, knowing she's not within reach of the three idiots who want to hurt her.
If they dare step in my way, they'll finally understand why I've never lost a fight, and if my fists don't teach them… a bullet will.
I pull into the school lot, my pulse already vibrating under my skin, and the first thing I see are their three Ducati Superleggeras lined up like trophies, just sitting there taunting me. Neon blue. Venom green. Hot pink. Each one gleaming, curated, perfect for each of those rich, entitled assholes, not even street legal, but that doesn't matter when you're Mayhem, and are the law in Soule.
My BMW door slams harder than I mean it to. I stalk toward the blue bike, heat crawling up my neck like a flash of lightning searing into my flesh. I'm not even thinking clearly, just reacting, all of my emotions on a rollercoaster ride. A bitter pulse of pettiness flares up, ugly and satisfying. They don't deserve the luxury of these machines, or the ease with which the world bends for them. Their actions warrant having their world crash down around them, as mine has. I flip up the kickstand without hesitation, my fingers trembling with adrenaline that I refuse toacknowledge, then I plant my large, booted foot and shovehard.The blue bike crashes with a metallic shriek, slamming into the green one. The chain reaction is instant, green takes out pink, and the pink bike collapses, with a crack that echoes across the asphalt. A bright, destructive domino line of privilege hitting the ground, and destroying their precious toys. All of it bought and paid for with the blood and misery of this town.
Gasps burst around me, from the students gathering at the edges of my vision. I turn toward them slowly and deliberately, my stare sharpening into something feral, something daring.Come on. Give me a reason.I'm begging for one. A fight right now would be a relief, and a release I desperately need. Anything to stop the pressure inside me from splitting my head open, with all the nonstop pressure I'm feeling. For a moment, I almost hope someone steps forward and does something, or calls me out, but instead, the cowards remain silent and watch.
I stroll forward, a man on a mission, and my eyes trail over the crowd, looking for a hint of purple hair. I have no idea what classes she even has today. The realization that I don't even know what she's majoring in makes me stop in my tracks.What the hell am I doing?I don't know this girl, and none of this makes any sense. "Hey, fucker, you're going to pay for what you did to those bikes!" A skinny, tall guy with too much frizzy hair taunts me, as he holds his phone in my direction, recording me, and all thoughts of what I know about Olly are redirected.
"You think that phone is going to protect you?" I move toward him, and watch with amusement as he panics and stumbles backward, crashing into other fleeing students who recognize the predator heading their way. All these guys now are the same, keyboard and screen warriors, only brave when they're not confronted face to face. My arm swipes out, knocking the phone from his grip, and it skids to the ground. I fist the front of his shirt and drag him closer, then lift him in the air, untilonly his toes are touching the ground, as he squeaks like a little mouse and attempts to dislodge my grip. "You had something to say,right,tough guy? Something about me paying for what I did?" I shake him hard until his teeth clash together. "Who's gonna make me pay,you?"
Tears and snot slide down his face as his lips tremble with whimpers, his eyes grow too large in his frightened face, and the smell of piss fills the air. I take one look down, and yup, the brave cunt has released his bladder, and a puddle is slowly growing below him, and soaking the soles of my boots.Disgusting."You're as spineless as you are stupid. Run along, fucker, before I rip your spine out through your nose. If I ever catch you even looking at me, I won't have mercy on you a second time." I drop him, and he immediately stumbles, falling on his ass, before crawling away like the cockroach he is.
If Cross, Damon, and River don't already know I'm here, I'm sure they'll be told shortly. I have to find Olly quickly, before those three confront me, and I have to fight our way out of here. My gaze falls on a beautiful, shapely brunette walking rapidly toward me, utterly distracted by her thoughts, and unaware of her surroundings. I'm positive I've seen her at my fights, her body wrapped around Cross or River. I reach out and grab her arm, halting her progress. "What... the...oh!" Her high-pitched voice goes suddenly silent, once she gets a good look at who's holding her.
"Do you know a girl named Olly? Long purple and brown hair, bright green eyes, and a temper like a wrathful, violent volcano?" I question as my eyes scan her features, only to realize how dazed and flushed she looks.
"Olivia?Olivia Springhill, is that who you're looking for?" She questions as she wets her swollen lips.
"Yeah, you've seen her recently? I need to urgently find her." My eyes scan the nosy crowd around us, ears perked in case the three from Mayhem show up, and try to blindside me.
"Who are you to her?" Her features change from dazed, confused, and curious to hostile. Is she one of Olly's friends?Does Olly even have friends?Fuck, I don't have time for this shit!
"Listen, she's my girlfriend, and right now she's in a shit ton of trouble. I need to get to her to keep her safe. Can you help me or not?" I release my hold, and prepare to walk away without her giving me anything.
"She was in the cafe, twenty minutes ago. Her stepbrother and his friends were trying to bully her, but it... didn't work... that girl's not afraid of anything or anyone," she huffs and swipes at her mouth angrily. "Look, if you're her boyfriend, I wish you luck. She's got a death wish, and Cross will grant it. Keep her away from me, and tell her to keep her lips to herself!" She shoves past me without a backward look, and I stand and stare at her with confusion.What the hell was that about?
I don't have another second to spare, I change direction and head across campus toward the cafe, eyes peeled for my girl. One thing is for sure: the brunette is right, Olly does have a death wish, and Cross won't hesitate to grant it. I have to find her, ‘cause she may be in trouble, and it might already be too late.
Where are you, Lavender? I'm coming for you, baby.
CHAPTER 45
OLLY
I'm still furious, even an hour later, that my unhinged stepbrother and his two brainless friends think they can intimidate me. I keep checking my burner phone, and the school newspaper's social media accounts, a swarm of nervous, angry vipers nesting in my stomach and causing nausea to rise.Come on, why haven't they broken the story yet about Rawdon?Surely something this colossal would be posted by now. Did I underestimate my target? Does he have more influence with the student body than I gave him credit for?Fuck, what am I going to do if this doesn't work?
I run through my other options, and short of kidnapping the fucker and putting a blade to his throat, to force him to confess what he did to Cheyanne and me all those years ago, I'm starting to run low on ideas on how to thrust his crimes out into the open, without more physical proof.It's okay, Olly, you did your best,Cheyanne's soft voice whispers through my mind, but it's incorrect. I haven't done my best, I've allowed four muscled and tattooed distractions to have taken my focus away from my job here in Soule. I want to instantly chastise myself for them, and I search deep for the regret I should be feeling for sleeping withSim, and my interactions with Damon, Cross, and River, but I don't find any. Life is too short for regrets, and I know that better than anyone. I just need to keep on task and see this through, then I can reevaluate my life choices, and how to move forward.
Fuck it, if the paper won't post what I need them to, I'll find another way. There have to be others that would break the story, even if it's just for clickbait on their accounts. I post the image and the heading to my account, with a sticker blocking out the poor girl's face, and cropping her breast. You can still tell what's happening in it, and clearly see Rawdon. If anyone wants the full photo, I'll make sure to send it. I did my homework and know who the popular people on campus are. I tag a bunch of the jocks, cheerleaders, science and drama students, and go from there. I repeat it over and over, tagging new people with every post, until my wall is nothing but a grid of that photo, twelve posts deep. I know I'll probably get this account shut down, but screenshots and the internet are forever, and I'm betting others will help me spread the word like wildfire.
I'm partially hidden, close to the administrative building that holds the dean's office, the rest of my classes for the day forgotten, as I wait to see if Professor Rawdon will be summoned. It's a risk I'm taking, being this close to the heat, but I can't seem to keep myself away. I need to witness the look on his face as he faces the judgment he failed to receive years ago. The one that Cheyanne missed out on, before she ended her suffering in a bathtub filled with blood.
I've acquired a few strange looks from students heading back and forth to classes, but I just disregard them. I don't give a crap what they think of me. I caught a glimpse of Ava rushing across campus toward the parking lot a while ago. Poor girl looked out of sorts, and that song'I Kissed a Girl'by Katy Perry has been rolling nonstop in my head since. Do I feel bad for kissing her like that?Not in the slightest.She came at me first, and she'slucky that was my response instead of my usual violence, but it would have been a shame to ruin that pretty face of hers.
"What are you doing, Hellstorm?" The words are whispered against my exposed neck, and a shiver runs down my spine. I go to swirl around, my fist ready, but a large, muscular arm wraps itself around my waist, crushing my other arm against my body, and grabbing my wrist and crushing it between his fingers. I’m yanked into a hard chest, while thick fingers dig into the back of my head, grasping my hair and holding it in a harsh grip. The scent of rich, heady smoke and sandalwood instantly infiltrates my senses. My grip on my burner phone loosens, and I feel it fall from my grasp onto the ground.Shit.
