Page 3 of Her Bully

“You just had to grab her ass, didn’t you?”

He shrugs. “Good way to test how easy she’ll be to break.”

He’s not wrong, but if my mother receives a call about this, I’ll catch hell.

“She’ll keep quiet.”

“No way,” Gauge argues. “Bitch will rat. Coach is going to kill us.”

He’s not wrong. If we miss practice, that bastard will force us to do laps until we puke.

“You three.” Kipling holds his arm out and motions us into his office.

Her fingerprints still mark Remy’s cheek and part of me is jealous of the fact that she touched him. It pisses me off, but my thoughts flash to our secret smile. I’ll have her panties off before Saturday.

She sits in a chair to the side, prim and proper, legs crossed at the ankles. The only thing that gives her away are the tears staining her cheeks. She ratted.

“I don’t tolerate sexual harassment at this school. One more strike and none of you will walk at graduation. You screw up a fraction of an inch and I’ll ban you from prom, the senior trip. Military school isn’t off the table. Should I keep going or have I spelled it out clearly enough for you?”

“No, sir,” Gauge answers.

“Detention after school. All of you. You too.” His gaze shifts to the new chick.

Her bottom lip quivers. I bet she’s never been in trouble a day in her life. “While Mr. Young may have deserved that slap, I can’t condone violence nor reward it. Remy. Gauge. You’re both free to leave.”

Great. Guess we’re not finished.

My friends snicker under their breath as they leave me to face my stepfather on my own. Assholes. Did I fail to mention that Mr. Kipling is married to my mother?

The door closes and his eyes narrow on me. “You’ll recall I told you my niece would be coming to live with us?”

“What about it?” The second the words leave my mouth, his register. His niece. I glance at the new girl. I did not see that coming.

“Kyson. You remember Dahlia?”

The Dahlia I remember did not look like this. She was short, pudgy, had acne, braces, and stringy hair. There’s no way the gorgeous girl blushing under my stare is the one I mooed at when we were ten. No friggin’ way is she the girl who was my first kiss.

“I have a debate team meet to host and your mother was called in at the hospital, so I’ll need you to give Dahlia a ride home, and I don’t want your loser friends in the car with her. They’ve done enough damage for the day.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I take it I won’t have any more trouble where Dahlia is concerned?”

“No, sir.”

“Good. I’ll see you both later tonight for dinner. And, Kyson. Be a good sport and show Dahlia around town and the house. It’s been some years since she visited.”

“You can count on me.”

I’ll show her around all right.

Chapter Two

It’s even worse than I imagined. Kyson Allen is even cuter than I remember. My uncle’s stepson. The boy who tortured me for one full summer when I was ten years old and a few before and after that.

Dark hair that looks perfectly messy sticking out in fifty different directions. Slight stubble carpeting his jaws. Just enough hair that you know it’d create some friction. Deep blue eyes I could drown in. A smile that would have weaker girls melting in the palm of his hand. Luckily for me, I haven’t forgotten how evil he is.

I told myself that things would be different. That maybe he’d be fat and ugly so I could laugh at him as he once did me, but that’s hard to do when the guy looks like he probably has thousands of TikTok followers. I did search for him when I was like thirteen once I’d dropped my baby weight, ditched my braces, and grew boobs.

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