Page 386 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

A shudder courses through me, and I swivel in my chair so that I’m facing the French doors. From here, I can see all theway to the doors leading into the house. I’d know if he came out looking for me.

Would he?

I’m horrified but intrigued at the same time. I’ve never seen him that angry before. That...intense. I’m starting to understand why he doesn’t have a girlfriend. He’s obviously a psychopath.

And I was flirting with him? What the hell is wrong with me?

I drain the rest of my wine glass and quickly pour myself another. Our parents will be home soon. When I’m done here, I’m going to text Mom and tell her I’m going to bed early. Then I’m locking myself in my room for the rest of the night.

It’ll work—I’ve done it before. She knows when I “go to bed early” that I want to be alone. To not disturb me. It’s our unspoken arrangement, always has been. It’s how I’ve stayed sane all these years, and it’s how she kept a roof over our heads. Of course, neither of us made it out unscathed...but it could have been worse.

I cradle my glass, swaying to a wordless tune as I try to put Jude out of my mind. But sure enough, the memory of him gripping his thick cock, arm muscles cording, and his lip caught in his teeth, flashes back into my mind.

I groan and slump onto the bar. This is bad. This issofucking bad. I stagger when I slide off the stool, pause, and shove the cork back on the bottle of wine before emptying the second glass. Then I shove it up my floppy sweater and head back to the house.

Rain patters on my head, but the true storm hasn’t arrived yet.

I have a feeling it’s going to be epic.

Chapter 11

Jude

I’m warming up for practice when I notice some of the guys bunching up by the sideline, staring at the bleachers. Coach Davis is off to one side, texting on his phone, blissfully unaware. Working my shoulders, I jog over to join them, hanging back at first.

“—split that pussy open on my dick,” Daniel, one of the team’s fullbacks, says. “And if she puts up a fight, I’ll just strap her down.”

“Oh, she’ll put up a fight, alright,” Eric cuts in with a snort-laugh. “Fucking ice queen, that one.”

The team chuckles.

“That’s just ‘cos you don’t know how to warm her up,” Sean says. “Give me her number and my dick will be down her throat by nine tonight.”

Everyone laughs, and some of the guys lean over to fist bump Sean. Money’s going to exchange hands in the locker room later, and it will all revolve around whoever the team has decided to add to their Hot Enough to Fuck list.

I turn to find the focus of their latest obsession. Some students have gathered to watch us practice, but it’s not exactly a crowd.

When Eric spots me, he drops his gaze and turns his back on me. “Guys quit it,” he mutters.

Instantly, my gaze snaps back to the bleachers. Now that I know who I’m looking for, she’s impossible to miss. On one side of the bleachers, far removed from the scattered groups of students, Harper sits with her head in her hands, elbows on her knees, staring out over the field as if she’s about to die from boredom.

I didn’t see her again last night. Her mother said she’d gone to bed early, and I didn’t trust myself to go and see if she was okay. I knew if her bedroom door wasn’t locked and she let me in…shit would go down. And the fact that I couldn’t trust myself around her when both our parents were home speaks volumes. A part of me hoped that she was sick, that she wouldn’t have to drive with me to school…but I was in the back of the line when they were handing out luck. We spent an awkward-as-fuck twenty-minute drive to school, neither of us saying a word, and Harper scrambled out of my truck so fast, I’m surprised she didn’t sprain an ankle.

She avoided me like the plague for the rest of the day, and to say I’m in a shit mood is a wild understatement. So when I face Cinderhart High’s football team, they take one look at my furious expression and scatter like fucking grapeshot. Eric doesn’t even make eye contact with me as he races past.

Alex comes up to me and gives me a sympathetic look. “They’re just fucking around. No one will dare touch your sister.”

He’s the only guy I’d consider a friend at this school. No one else likes hanging out with someone as somber and sober as me.

“So it’s fine if they talk trash about her?”

“She’s not even related to you,” Alex says, his words lit up with a laugh. “Why the fuck do you care?”

He couldn’t even begin to understand. Neither do I.

“You could even fuck her if you wanted,” Alex goes on. “No one can toss you in juvie for banging your stepsister.”

A clenching jaw is the only warning I have. My fist stops a foot away from Alex’s face, my muscles barely locking in time. He stares at it with wide eyes, blood draining from his face. “Jude, man, you gotta stop taking things so fucking seriously.”

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