Make Your Move (A High School Bully Romance): Hannaford Prep Year Two Read online

  “Thank you Mounty for traipsing around the docks dressed like a slut and tripping over Joey. Do all your clients pay you in large bags of dirty money? Is your puss really that good?”

  “Ash, shut your mouth.” Avery turns in her seat to glare at him. I don't even care.

  Harley ignore his cousin completely and leans forward in his chair. “Who was the guy with your bags?”

  “Luca. He's… he works for the same guy your uncle does. We’ve known each other forever.”

  “Have you fucked him?” he says. Sweet lord. Here we go.

  “How is that any of your business?”

  Blaise tips his head back and laughs. He changes gears smoothly but he takes corners way too fast considering I'm sharing a seat with no belt on. “How many of those Mounty guys have you fucked?”

  “Why do either of you care?” Avery says sweetly and they both finally shut up.

  Chapter Two

  Avery secures us a shared room with a private bathroom and an honest-to-god coffee machine. I am going to bathe in coffee this year. I can, because the bathroom has a tub. The room is bigger than Avery’s single was last year and my two bags feel pathetic as I look around at all of the space I now have to fill.

  “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to worry about anyone sneaking in and messing with your stuff now that you’re roomed with me.”

  I scoff at her and I wave the lock I’ve brought with me. There’s no way I’m trusting anyone here this year, other than Avery. She laughs and then watches me struggle to screw the damn thing in place. When she ducks into the bathroom to make a phone call, I wriggle under my bed to hide my safe. I trust Avery but some things will take time.

  I’m excited to share a room with her, I’m actually shocked at how excited I am to have her as a friend. It feels kind of pathetic how relieved I am to have someone on my side but then I remind myself of exactly how hard I worked for it last year.

  When we woke up at the hotel Avery and the guys were all staying at, a meagre two hours after we had gone to sleep, we had ordered room service for breakfast and gossiped about our summer breaks. I had never stayed in a hotel, or eaten food delivered to me by a guy in a suit, and Avery kept giggling at how awkward I was about it all. I was shocked to see she eats as much as I do when given the chance and at my raised eyebrow she’d told me, “Ballet is hardcore. I eat more than Ash does during the recital season.”

  It was refreshing.

  After breakfast Avery had a heated argument with Ash about our travel arrangements, he did not want me to join them, and it ended with us girls tucked in the back of one of the Beaumont’s luxurious chauffeur driven Bentley’s. I squirmed in the seat for about thirty seconds before Avery told me to get over Ash’s shitty attitude. “He’s been a nightmare the entire break. I’m looking forward to getting back to school and finding new ways to avoid him.”

  I still feel guilty about it. I can’t help it.

  So, after spending the two minutes it takes me to unpack I perch on my bed and glare down at the bags of cash I now have to get sorted. The movies make it look so easy, just get a fake business and funnel the money through, but in reality without asking for the Jackal’s help I am going to struggle to get the funds clean. I need a second option amongst the Twelve to get shit done. I’ll add that to my never-ending list of things I need to think about.

  “You never told me how much is in there.” says Avery as she unpacks her millionth box of shoes. I think she could wear a different pair everyday for the rest of her life and still have some left over. I have three pairs. And I love the shit out of them.

  “A hundred grand. It’s a pain in my ass and I don’t want to leave it here tomorrow during classes.”

  Avery snorts and pokes her head out of the closet to give me a look. “Anyone at Hannaford wouldn’t need your dirty cash, Lips.”

  I give her a sidelong look.“It’s not just that. Having bags full of hundred dollar bills raises questions I don’t want to answer. There’s enough people here who think I’m a whore.” I grumble. I’m just a little bit sour over the guys reactions last night.

  Avery comes over to drop down onto the bed next to me and she props her chin up in her palm as we both stare at the bags like they’ll give us some answers. “I know someone who could help. It’s a risk but he’s always been discreet. And kind to me. I could play the dumb damsel in distress and get him to sort it for us. He probably wouldn’t even ask for a cut.”

  I glance at her, curiously. We’ve gotten to know each other much better thanks to her texting truths game. I had been skeptical when she had suggested it but it had really helped me to understand her. I know just enough about her fathers business and associates to realize just how much of a criminal he really is.

  The Jackal would love to know Joseph Beaumont Sr.

  Avery sighs and grabs one of the bags, slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s hide them in the closet for now and we can mull over the cleaning options. Have you picked your secret for today?”

  I had and I was damned nervous about saying it. I’d woken to a text from the Jackal, telling me how much he would miss me while I was gone, and I’d decided then I’d have to start telling Avery about him. I didn’t speak until we had tucked the bags securely behind the mountain of boxes Avery had that I find out have her scarves in them. Scarves, for christ's sake.

  Scarves.

  “What’s yours?” I chicken out and ask. Avery smiles and lets me avoid it for a minute, bless her.

  “The guy I can ask to process the money is from a family I wouldn’t ever trust, the Crawfords.” She walks over to the kitchen and starts rummaging around for cleaning supplies. The girl could not stop cleaning the room. I was a little nervous about pissing her off by, you know, existing in the same room full time. “His father is my father’s best friend. When I was a child my mother would gossip with her friends about how she wanted me to marry one of his sons. I hate the whole damn lot of them, except for Atticus.”

  “Atticus? Wow.”

  Avery rolls her eyes. “His mother named all three of her sons after notable literary figures. Atticus is the youngest and his mother had been hoping for a girl. His father is big on the old adage of ‘an heir and a spare’ so he has no use for a third son. The older boys are absolute assholes because they know just how powerful they are going to be when their father passes the business on. Atticus gets nothing and has been told to forge his own path.”

  I nod along. I’m starting to get used to the bizarre and cruel ways of the super rich parents of Hannaford. Then again my own mother picked a gram of heroin over me everyday of the week so I can’t really judge. Avery looks up from where she’s wiping down the fridge. I can honestly say I’ve never even thought about wiping a fridge down in my life. “Atticus started his own business in his final year here at Hannaford. He’s now independently wealthy and very vague about how he makes his money. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want his brothers snooping around his business dealings but I once asked him if I could do an internship with him during the summer break, for college applications and to get away from Joey, and he told me his business is not appropriate for a young lady. He’s not a chauvinistic kind of guy and he’s never said anything like that to me before. So, I’m thinking it’s either illegal or sexual.”

  Hm. Either would work to clean the cash. I wouldn’t mind him taking a cut as long as it was a reasonable amount and he keeps his mouth shut.

  Avery moves on to scrub the coffee table in our little lounge area, complete with a massive TV on the wall and an honest-to-god fireplace, and she blushes a little as she clears her throat. “The truth here is that I used to have a crush on him. A big one, I would follow him around like a lost puppy but then he hit high school and started avoiding me. I think Joey’s violence scared him off.”

  It’s honestly weird to see her blush. I stare at it for a second before I can speak. “If he avoids you how will you get him to clean the cash?”

 
“Oh we still see each other at society functions and galas. He’s nice to me, just distant. I’ve given up on my feelings for him.” Her tone says otherwise. I wonder how Ash feels about this and then I remember he’s a dick and I don’t care what he thinks.

  I can’t avoid my truth forever so I take a deep breath and just blurt it out. “The Jackal told Joey not to touch me because he thinks he owns me. He’s going to take me someday, lock me in a room, and force me to be with him. He’ll rape and torture me until I submit to him. If I don’t make some very careful moves in the next three years I’m going to be trapped by him. Any guy who touches me is in danger if it gets back to him.”

  Avery stops scrubbing and straightens up sharply. Her eyes narrow and she looks the exact same as when I met her a year ago, cold and stunning and calculating.

  “Well we need to plan some moves then, don’t we?”

  It’s only the first fucking day back to class and I’m already facing Harley and Blaise’s bullshit.

  I’ve come down for an early breakfast, knowing Avery had to deal with some issue involving the student council, and I’ve saved her a seat. Even though the ban on speaking to me has clearly lifted now I’m friends with Avery, the other students still give me a wide berth.

  It’s fine.

  I like the quiet.

  And it is quiet.

  Right up until the moment Harley and Blaise drop themselves down across from me at the table with full plates of food and wary looks in their eyes. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of either of them since Ash stormed off at the hotel and I’m not feeling much warmth towards them now. Ok, that’s a lie, I’m feeling pissy but turned on at the very sight of them. Sue me.

  “Seriously. I’m not dealing with either of you this fucking early in the morning unless it’s a life or death situation. Is someone bleeding?” Harley snorts at me and offers me a glass of juice. I give him a truly dark glare, one of my very best, and I shake my head.

  “I’d rather not start my week off with the runs thanks, asshole.”

  He cackles at the curious look Blaise gives us both. I try not to blush at having the rock god’s eyes touch me. Maybe this will be the year I get over my obsession for him and his music. I can only live in hope.

  “Don’t ask, man. We had a great winter break last year. I like to think that was when we became friends.”

  I point my knife in his direction. “We are not friends. I’m Avery’s friend and you two are firmly Team Ash.” Blaise gives me another look and I grumble into my eggs. I’d love to tell him to fuck off but I can’t imagine saying those words to his face. Harley watches us both, watches how I react to Blaise, and I think I see a hint of jealousy in his eyes. I roll my own at him. I’m no threat to their bromance, I doubt Blaise even remembered my name before Avery and I became friends. I watch as Joey Beaumont saunters into the dining hall flanked by his usual group of simpering flunkies. He meets my eye and tips his head at me with a challenge. Great.

  “Look, it’s only a matter of time before Ave’s wears Ash down and then we’ll all be one big happy fucking family. So stop fighting it. We’re friends by association.” says Harley.

  “Fuck off.” I mumble around my food because I can say it to Harley, I have said it to him a hundred times before. I also do not care if I look like a savage. Fuck these boys and their heartbreakingly good looks. Fuck them.

  Actually, I wouldn’t mind- nope. Not going there.

  “God, are you going to be a grumpy ass like Harley all the time? There’s only so much of that shit I can take.” Blaise’s eyes goddamn twinkle and I want to claw mine out rather than look at him. Harley elbows him and they both laugh. They are so clearly the best of friends that I’m a little jealous. Then I remember I have Avery now and I smile to myself instead. That girl and her fierce loyalty is worth a hundred gorgeous boys.

  Harley clears his throat and pegs me with a look. I try not to squirm. It is too damn early to be dealing with him at such intensity. “Listen, I’m not Ash. Avery can’t throw pretty words around and fool me. I know exactly what scratches down a cheek fucking mean. I need you to tell me exactly what happened between her and Rory. I’ve spent the whole break fucking stewing on it and I need an answer.”

  My spine snaps until I’m sitting straight and rigid. Both boys have stopped eating and they’re staring at me like I’m the most fascinating thing in the damn room. I’ve been working on my poker face and I know Harley is pissed he can’t get a thing out of me. “If Avery has chosen not to tell you herself then you will never get it out of me. End of story.”

  Harley’s eyes narrow but it’s not really a glare. He’s looking at me like he wants to crack my head open and sort through everything inside my brain.

  “Good. I’m glad you’re a decent friend to her. She’s never had one of those. But I need to know if I need to kill Rory. No, not beat him bloody or start a social campaign against him. I need to know if I need to end his life and fucking bury him somewhere. Because if that piece of shit raped my cousin, if he did that to her, I will end his life. I’m not asking for details, just tell me if he has to die.”

  He’s serious. I’ve met enough killers in my life to know what it looks like when a man is going to follow through with his threat. Clearly there is more of his father’s blood in his veins than he’d like to admit. I think about saying that to him, riling him up more to get him to forget about Avery’s assault, but I don’t actually want him to hate me. Fuck, I don’t want him to hate me at all. When did all of this become so complicated? I move my eggs around my plate for a minute while I think. The tension in our little bubble at the table soars. When I look up at Harley he’s barely containing his anger and his shoulders have begun to shake.

  “Fine, no details. If I were ten seconds later than what I was, you would be burying that dickhead. But I got there in time.”

  Harley lets out a breath and nods. He doesn’t look relieved, just like he can put off the killing for a later date. Just because Rory didn’t rape her didn’t mean he was a decent guy, it just meant I got in his way. Harley is definitely on the same page as I am. Rory cannot stay at this school with Avery. He’s a danger to her and to every other girl here.

  “Color me impressed. Rory’s a linebacker, you’re what, five-two? How the hell did you stop him?” says Blaise, his eyes moving over my tiny frame leaving behind a trail of fire.

  I snort at him and drop my cutlery onto my half eaten plate. I can’t eat now that I’m thinking about this shit. My digestion has always been at the mercy of my brain. The moment I’m thinking too much, agitated, nervous, any strong emotion, I can’t stomach a thing.

  “I’m a Mounty. I’m a foster kid. I was a child of neglect before that. Last year I was the target of a game that had most of the male population of this school following me around bugging me for sex every day. I’ve had to threaten Harley’s psycho cousin with a knife to the dick. You think I don’t have experience fighting off rapists? Please. Go back to your privileged, gilded fucking towers and leave me the hell alone.”

  Blaise’s face drops. He looks like he’s going to question me so I stand up and grab my bag instead, my heart thundering in my chest dangerously. As I shove away from the table I see Avery strut in like she owns that whole damn school and a smile tugs at my lips. She grins back at me and then levels Harley and Blaise with a look. I meet her in the line and she tucks her arm into mine.

  “They giving you shit?” She’s wearing a vibrant shade of red lipstick and I’m jealous that I could never pull off such a polished look. I’ll always be rough around my edges.

  “Nah. They want to be one big happy family.”

  Avery snorts and grabs a banana and an iced coffee. I grab a drink as well and we duck out of the dining hall. We share our first class with Harley. I share nearly every class with the gorgeous asshole.

  “Ash will be livid. He’s still gunning for you.”

  “Let him. I’m not scared.”

  Avery laughs.

/>   This year is going to be a fucking blast.

  Chapter Three

  A quick glance at the listing on the door of our math class confirms we’re still being seated alphabetically by surname. Another year of working with Harley, sitting next to him, and being drowned in the scent of him. Ok, that sounds creepy but he really does smell incredible.

  Avery is directly in front of us once again. She’s sitting next to some guy I don’t recognize and she’s pissed off about it. She doesn’t frown or snap at him but the smile she gives him is pure ice. I almost feel sorry for the guy. I wonder how long it will take before Ash is challenging him in one of the guys dorms fight club sessions at her order.

  Harley walks in seconds before the teacher and drapes himself in his chair. He doesn’t look at me or acknowledge me which pisses me off considering not even an hour ago he was declaring us friends over plates of eggs. I should know by now not to trust a single word out of his mouth.

  “Can we just agree now on how we’re going to halve all of our joint assessments this year so I can save myself some work?” I whisper at him as the teacher starts to take attendance. Harley smirks at me without looking up from his notes. He’s always so prepared for his classes. I mean, I am too but it’s still a surprise to me.

  “Nope. I’d rather keep you busy studying than running around the school getting jumped. Besides, you just said we’re not friends. I don’t help people that aren’t my friends.” he drawls. The teacher starts handing out worksheets and I roll my eyes at Harley. He refuses to look at me.

  “I’m not going to get beaten up. I’m pretty sure we sorted that out last year.”

  Harley shrugs and we fall into silence again as the class gets into full swing. I focus on the numbers and formulas and I let myself forget about everything else for a minute. I don’t want to admit to myself just how much I’m enjoying being back at school. It’s good to focus on something I’m good at.