Home > Make You Beg(8)

Make You Beg(8)
Author: Shantel Tessier

I shake my head.

Not today. We’ll let her think she’s safe here. That we no longer care what she does or that she even exists. And just when she starts to get comfortable, we’ll remind her we are the guys who are going to fucking bury her.

Entering the school, I spot her immediately. She’s walking into the front office with Jamie by her side, and they’re laughing. She feels safe with her. I don’t feel the least bit of remorse that we’re going to take that away from her. We’re going to strip her bare, and then each leave her scarred and broken like the lying bitch she is.

Oh, little doll, we are going to take our time playing with you.

Henley doesn’t have the slightest clue what’s in store, and I can’t wait to watch it all unfold before her.

Welcome to hell, Henley. We will burn you until nothing but ashes are left.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE


HENLEY

FIRST AND SECOND period went mind-numbingly slow as fuck. My eyes pretty much stayed on my desk because I could feel everyone else’s on me. Even the teachers’ eyes grew two sizes when they called my name. I acknowledged that I was present, and that was that. I was handed my designated book for that class, and I followed along silently.

I wanted to sit in my chair longer to bypass the rush of kids in the hallway when the bell rang, signaling class was over, but I forced myself to my feet and moved with the crowd. I can’t let anyone see that this bothers me or that I’m ashamed of the choices I’ve made. What I did was right. And I will fight for every woman to do the right thing no matter how much discrimination they face.

I walk beside the row of black lockers, looking for mine. Once I find it, I throw my books in there because I’m tired of carrying them around. Then I head to my next class.

I enter the classroom for third period and drop into a front row seat. I never was the kind of student who hid in the back, and I’m not about to start now.

The door opens, and I see Jamie enter. I smile at her, and she returns it, falling into the seat next to me. “Well, at least we have one class together,” she sings.

I start to laugh, but it stops the moment I see Dax Monroe enter the classroom as well. My entire body stiffens, and my hands curl around the edge of my desk. I have the urge to look away, to get up and run out of the room, but I can’t. He’ll know he’s still winning.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie looks over her shoulder, and when she spots him, she quickly turns back to face me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I should have warned you.”

Yes, she should have. It’s not like it’s our first day of school, so she knew he was in this class with us.

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.

My father turns to me. “Quit fucking talking!”

 

My vibrating phone pulls me out of that memory. I check to see it’s another text from Law in the group chat.

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