Drew may not have been competition, but she was definitely a problem. A big, hot-ass problem. I recalled how smug she looked, leaned against the smooth paint of her expensive car, watching while the cops hauled me off—to jail. She was a used-to-be rich girl, which meant she probably had no idea what the implications of what she’d done actually held—of course, she didn’t. Or she would have planted more than a dime bag of weed. But still. Forget the record. Forget the inconvenience. She’d inadvertently put Arlo in danger, and that was enough to make my blood boil white-hot. And the more I thought about it, the more sinister my thoughts of retaliation grew.
Hendrix stared at me. “Fuckface! Why was there weed in your car? That’s like the cardinal sin of—”
“The new girl set me up.”
His eyes popped wide, and he lowered the soda to his side. “Oh, it’s on now, cocksucker.” He hopped off the counter. “It’s on now. ‘Cause she just put her feet all over your rug.” He tapped the toe of his sneaker over the kitchen rug. “Just like that.”
And that was an understatement.
8
Drew
Steam billowed out of the enclosed shower when I opened the door. My mood had greatly improved since I’d watched the cops haul Bellamy away in the back of a police car. I knew he wouldn’t stay in jail for a dime bag, but that hadn’t been my intention.
Last night, the entire point had been to show Bellamy West that he was not screwing with some “wet behind the ears” little rich girl. That I could, in fact, get to him.
I wrapped a towel around me, then wiped a visible patch through the fogged-over mirror to clean up the mascara below my eyes before I headed into my room. I made it two steps over the hardwoods then froze before stumbling into the doorframe on a scream when I noticed Bellamy’s tall frame stretched out across my bed.
“You always scream like that when a guy’s in your bed?” Bellamy asked. One arm rested behind his head like he belonged here. “Huh, baby girl?” He glanced up from the picture of Genevieve and me he held in his free hand, then tossed it to the foot of the bed. That was when I noticed the metal baseball bat beside him, nestled among my blankets.
Something crashed downstairs, followed by a guy shouting. More things shattered. And I was frozen in place, freaking out completely.
He was in my house. And he didn’t come alone. Fear shot to the forefront of my mind, full force. An alarm wailed at me to run, or at least try to make it to my dad’s room where he kept a gun, but I didn’t even know how to use a gun. My heart pounded out a frantic rhythm as I pressed my back to the wall, trying to keep as much space between and the baseball bat wielding maniac as possible.
“Is this where you murder me?” I whispered.
A deep chuckle crept through his lips as he shoved to his feet, wrapping his fingers around the metal bat. “Couldn’t fuck you if I killed you, now could I?” he said, twirling the bat as he took slow steps toward me. “And that is what I promised, isn’t it? To fuck up your life. Then fuck you?” He lifted the bat, then swung it at the pictures and figurines on my dresser, sending them crashing against the wall. Then he moved closer.
And I didn’t want him anywhere near me.
I edged toward my bedroom door, trying to keep a clear escape route.
“Aw. What’s the matter?” A mocking frown settled on his perfect face. “Scared?”
The noise of the house being completely destroyed echoed up the stairwell, and I wondered how many of them there were. “How did you get in my house?” I took a couple more steps, trying to stay calm, trying not to have a complete breakdown and beg him not to hurt me. Because the look on his face said he was about to.
“Well…you see, Drucella. I’m a criminal. But you know that.” Then his expression shifted, and he rushed me. “Since you got me fucking arrested.”
I yelped when his hard body forced me to the wall.
“Still wanna be the worst thing to happen to me?” His finger traced the top of my towel.
When it hooked beneath the edge, my pulse jumped into a frenzy, but I somehow managed to summon the courage to still his hand against my chest. “What are you going to do, Bellamy?”
He focused on his hand now resting over my bare skin, then smirked. And if I had to guess, what had him so amused was the ever-quickening thump of my heart against his palm.
“Where would the fun be if I told you?” His hand slid up my chest until his fingers wound around my throat. “You fucked up, Drew.” His body pressed harder to mine, until I could feel every ripple, every bulge of muscle tensing and coiling in anger. “You really, really fucked up…”
I closed my eyes while willing my knees not to buckle. He tapped the bat over the floor for a second, then stopped, slipping it underneath my towel and pressing the cold metal between my legs, making me flinch “I could fuck you up...” His hot breath washed over my lips. “Real good, baby girl.”
These were not the games we played at Black Mountain. This wasn’t manipulation or payback. This was crossing a line I was not prepared to go over, but it was too late, Bellamy was right here, like a devil dragging me right over it.
He slipped the bat against my pubic bone, right over my clit, and my body reacted in ways I wished it hadn’t. A combination of fear and arousal that made my skin tingle with awareness.
“The thing is, baby girl. You getting me arrested really fucked some shit up. So, you understand why I have to fuck your shit up, right?” He brushed his lips to min. “No hard feelings, right?” He dropped the bat back to his side, but his hold on my throat remained.
His eyes searched mine and a slow smirk pulled at his lips. “You like this shit, don’t you?” I would never, ever admit that to him though. I didn’t like feeling scared, and the fact that I wanted that bat between my legs in this situation, had me questioning my sanity. His fingers twitched over my neck. “Someone’s got some daddy issues...” He laughed before his grip loosened. He took a step back. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.” Then he took a swing at my TV before passing into the hall. His footfalls moved toward the stairwell then down the steps.
The noise of things breaking fell silent and seconds later, the front door opened and closed. I sagged like a puppet with cut strings and drew in a deep breath. This was insane. He was insane... I hurried to throw on clothes before rushing downstairs. It was carnage. The smashed big screen TV hung from the wall. Vases, artwork, furniture, all either smashed or broken. Even the couch looked like someone had sliced open the cushions and tossed the stuffing everywhere. I called the police and told them I’d come home to a break in. Then I texted Olivia, asking if I could stay the night. Because the last place I wanted to be was here. Alone.
Olivia sat across her kitchen island, staring at me wide eyed. “He broke into your house? Shit, are you okay?”
Now the adrenaline had worn off and whatever sick shit had been going on in my mind had left, I was terrified. My hands were shaking, heart racing.
“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“He’s Bellamy West, Drew! Those guys go to jail and burn cars and break legs.” She spun the barstool around, shaking her head. “Shit. What did he steal?”