FIERCE: A High School Enemies to Lovers Romance (Rosewood High Book 4)
FIERCE
Rosewood High #4
Tracy Lorraine
Contents
1. Chelsea
2. Shane
3. Chelsea
4. Shane
5. Chelsea
6. Shane
7. Chelsea
8. Shane
9. Chelsea
10. Shane
11. Chelsea
12. Shane
13. Chelsea
14. Shane
15. Chelsea
16. Chelsea
17. Shane
18. Chelsea
19. Shane
20. Chelsea
21. Shane
22. Chelsea
23. Shane
24. Chelsea
25. Shane
26. Chelsea
27. Shane
28. Chelsea
29. Shane
30. Chelsea
31. Shane
32. Chelsea
33. Shane
34. Chelsea
35. Chelsea
36. Shane
37. Chelsea
38. Shane
39. Chelsea
40. Chelsea
41. Shane
42. Chelsea
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Tracy Lorraine
About the Author
HATE YOU
Hate You Prologue
Hate You Chapter One
Copyright © 2020 by Tracy Lorraine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing & Proofreading by My Brother’s Editor
Cover by Dandelion Cover Designs
Andy and Amelia x
1
Chelsea
I stare out the window at the building I’ve spent the past eight weeks of my life inside and as much as I hate the place, I can’t help but crave being back inside. It’s safe in there. People understand me. They don’t look at me like I don’t belong, like I’m a piece of shit on their shoe after all the mistakes I’ve made.
My hands tremble in my lap as the gray brick walls disappear in the distance as my driver heads toward my home.
Home. It’s a funny word. It’s meant to be a place where you feel safe, loved, protected. You’re meant to feel like you belong.
I’ve never felt any of those things. Even before I was old enough to know things around me weren’t right, I knew. Even now being somewhere where those feelings should come easily, they don’t. My past is too ingrained. The fear too real after all these years.
I blow out a breath as anticipation races through me for what I’ll find waiting for me. My parents have visited me weekly after they shipped me off to “have a breather” as they put it. They made it sound like they were doing me a favor, but after the drama I’ve brought down on them, I’m pretty sure the breather was more for them than me.
Derek and Honey are the perfect parents on paper. I guess that’s why they signed up to foster broken kids all those years ago. Shame this broken teenager doesn’t fit into their perfect life.
I’ve done everything I can to become a person people would want to spend time with, to want to be friends with. But I still end up as the outcast. Okay granted, most of that is my fault. I’ve spent the past eight weeks reflecting on all my mistakes, on my weaknesses. The counselors seem to think I’ve turned a corner and am strong enough to show my face in a place where everyone hates me. I, on the other hand, am not so sure.
I think back over what my senior year at Rosewood High has been like so far. I’ve lost the guy I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember to a freaking supermodel. I drugged said supermodel in my attempt at him noticing me once again like he did that one night in the summer. When that didn’t work, I moved on to his best friend in the hope it would make him jealous. Wrong. All that resulted in was my parents sending me away for my breather.
Everyone hates me and I’m about to go walking back into that school like nothing happened. It has disaster written all over it. But what else am I supposed to do?
I refuse to cower down. I’m stronger than that.
I’m Chelsea fucking Fierce.
My parents must have been at the window waiting for my arrival. They wanted to come and get me themselves, but I refused, knowing that I’d need this time to try to adjust.
The smiles on their faces are wide, but I’m not stupid, they’re just as worried about this as I am, if not more so.
They’ve done everything for me. I couldn’t ask for better parents really, but their traditional views on things make my rule-breaking all the worse in their eyes. Just coming home drunk is a major sin, let alone some of the other things I’ve forced them to deal with.
Sucking in a huge lungful of air, I push the door open and step out.
“Chelsea, it’s so good to have you home,” Mom sings, rushing toward me with her arms out wide.
She engulfs me in her hug and for the first time since I watched that building disappear, a lump crawls up my throat and tears burn my eyes.
I was safe there. No one wanted to hurt me. No one wanted to make me an outcast for my mistakes like I’m sure this entire town does.
I’m not naïve enough to think what happened that final night stayed inside the walls of the Savage’s house. I’m sure everyone knows what a disappointment I am, just how screwed up I am.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she whispers in my ear, sounding a little emotional herself. She hands me off to my dad who gives me a much briefer one-armed hug. He’s not really the touchy-feely type like Mom, so even this gesture is a lot for him.
“We’ve got a surprise for you inside.”
I have a fleeting thought that they might have got some friends to come and meet me, but I push it away instantly. I lost my squad the moment I dropped that pill into Amalie’s drink, let alone Mason’s. It was stupid. I was desperate. I just wanted someone to want me.
I shake my head. My excuses mean shit. My behavior was inexcusable, which is why none of my squad will be here. They’ll have turned their backs on me as fast as I ran from Ethan’s house that night.
I might have spent my entire Rosewood High career trying to be the cheer squad captain, needing the title, the accolade to make me feel like I belong, but I’m not stupid enough to think that the rest of the girls weren’t doing something similar.
Yes, we had each other’s backs. We played the part of being best friends. But the reality was that we were all as fake as each other. None of them will have missed me. I don’t need to look any farther than my cell phone to know that’s the case. The only person who’s bothered to reach out is Ethan. Guilt fills me that I mostly ignored his attempts to check that I was okay, but I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to talk to anyone from Rosewood. I’m still not, but I seem to have little choice about it now.
I follow my parents up the steps onto the porch and into the house. They both look excited about whatever is inside for me. I, however, don’t feel any of it. Dread is what fills my belly.
The downstairs appears empty—I was right about the squad then—so I expect them to turn toward the stairs. But when we don’t do that, I’m thoroughly confused.
Dad steps out of the open back door, and Mom and I follow. I glance around, but everything is as I remember. That is until Dad opens the door to the pool house, it�
��s then I see that things have changed.
So they’ve decorated the pool house. Am I really supposed to get excited about this?
“Um… I don’t understand.” My irritation levels are beginning to rise. All I want to do is fall onto my bed and forget that I’m back here. I really don’t need to give my opinion on the shade of cream Mom chose for the walls.
“It’s for you,” Dad says, gesturing to the space beyond.
“You decorated it for me. Why?”
Mom takes my hand and leads me to the new couch in the center of the living area. With both my hands in hers, she blows out a breath.
“This is a fresh start, Chelsea. For all of us. We know we’ve been hard on you, had unrealistic expectations. We love you, but we also know that we’ve been a little overbearing in our need to protect you. We neglected to notice that you’re a young woman now who’s going to be embarking on her life without parents very soon. And as much as we hate that our time together is coming to an end, we know that we need to accept it. You’re no longer our little bug, but a beautiful young woman who has the world at her feet.
“So this is for you. We’ve moved all of your stuff from your room. You’ve got your own front door key.” Dad pulls it from his pocket and hands it over. “There’s food and drinks in the fridge along with everything else you might need.”
“I… um… I don’t understand.” I can’t deny that this sounds freaking incredible, but I was expecting to come home and find myself locked in my bedroom and only allowed to attend school for classes for the foreseeable future.
“This is for you. We want you to be able to have your space to do as you wish. You’re eighteen now, Chelsea,” he says, reminding me that I was forced to celebrate my biggest birthday in that place. “We think taking control of your life will help you. We—”
“We’ll only be in the house, and it’s still your home, we’re not kicking you out or anything,” Mom adds, clearly not as on board with this plan as Dad.
“Of course. You’re our daughter. We love you, but we came to the conclusion while you were away that we’re smothering you. So we did this.”
I look around, now seeing a few of my ornaments and picture frames that I didn’t notice when I first entered.
A genuine smile creeps onto my face. It’s an alien feeling as every one I’ve given for almost as long as I can remember has been fake.
All but that one night, a little voice chirps, but I shoot it down. I don’t think about that night. Nothing good can come of what happened that night.
“Are you serious?”
“We are. We know things have been strained, but we hope that by giving you space you’ll be able to continue with everything you’ve been working on without us breathing down your neck.”
For the second time in less than fifteen minutes, tears burn my eyes. I’m not used to these overpowering emotions. I much prefer being the hard as nails girl everyone is scared of, not the weak emotional one I’ve turned into.
“T-thank you,” I choke out.
“We’ll leave you to get settled. We’re both home all day if you need anything. I’ll give you a shout when lunch is ready.”
They both get up to leave, but Mom turns back before she gets to the door and pulls me into another hug.
“We’re so proud of you, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Are you going to the game tonight?”
I blow out a breath. Tonight is the final state championship game. Other than the cheer finals, it’s the one day I’ve been looking forward to more than any other. I knew our boys could do it—or more so that Jake could do it—there was never any doubt in my mind, and I’d love nothing more than to watch them lift that trophy.
“I’m not sure.”
“Your uniform is washed and pressed in your closet. It’s time to restart your life again.”
I nod against her, and she releases me to explore my new home.
I spin on the spot, a smile creeping onto my face, and excitement bubbling in my belly. I’ve basically got my own apartment; this couldn’t be any more perfect. Well, actually that’s not true, a lot of things could be a lot fucking better right now, but at least I’ve got some privacy while I try to figure my shit out.
I look around before walking toward the bedroom. They’ve painted it a deep purple, my favorite color. I run my hand over the comforter and push down on the luxury memory foam mattress. I think I’m going to like that.
Poking my head into the bathroom, I find the purple theme continues and that I’ve got a brand-new suite and what looks like a waterfall shower.
Maybe this homecoming isn’t going to be so bad.
2
Shane
I sit on the bench in the locker room before our final game. The other guys are pacing, looking nervous, but all I hear is my dad’s words from earlier.
“This is the moment we’ve dreamed of, son. This is our night. Go out there and make me proud. Show those scouts what for.”
Everything is about him. About his success and how he can look good. It’s fucking exhausting.
I glance at all the others.
I want this as much as they do, of course I do. But the pressure to be the best, to continue the Dunn name, to go to an Ivy League college and then take the NFL by storm is too fucking much. Even if that was what I wanted it would be too much.
I want to go to college, sure. I wouldn’t even mind playing college football, but it’s not my future. No matter how Dad tries to ignore it, I’m not as much of a natural like him and my brothers.
“All right, ladies. Get in here,” Coach calls, and everyone comes running. Some stare at the floor as the pressure of the night gets too much for them, others look pumped and ready for a fight. “This is it, boys. This is what you’ve worked all your life for. You will forever remember this night. Now, let’s make sure it’s for the right fucking reasons, shall we?”
The ones who aren’t lost in their own heads reply, but that’s not enough for Coach.
“I didn’t fucking hear you, ladies. Are we going to fucking do this?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Come on, we can do better than that. We’re the fucking Rosewood Bears,” Jake shouts, coming back to life and spurring on his team the way he knows best. I stare at my captain, the one who’s led us to this point, and like always my opinions of him duel. He’s an asshole, no one would deny that, and other than always taking what I fucking want, I’m pretty sure there’s a decent guy in there somewhere. Amalie seems to think so, and she’s pretty awesome, so… “Now, are we going to do this?”
The noise from everyone around me is mind-blowing. The excitement is palpable, nerves are running rampant but over all of that is the belief that we can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this for me.
Not for my dad.
Not for the Dunn name or to prove I’m as good as them.
I can do this for me. After all, something’s got to go my fucking way for once.
“Let’s fucking do this,” someone shouts as we move toward the doors that lead us out to the field for our final game together.
Some of us have played together since little league, it’s been a long fucking time and we deserve this success.
The pounding of feet reverberates through me before the cheering of the crowd takes over. The guys continue forward, but I can’t help slowing down to take in the moment. The stadium is full to the brim, most wearing Bears red but there is a significant mass of blue to the side of me.
Everyone is on their feet shouting and screaming for their team.
It’s really quite sobering to be part of something this big.
“Dunn, what the fuck, man?” Zayn bumps into my shoulder as he passes me, forcing me to continue toward the huddle that’s forming on our half of the field.
I’m almost there when our cheerleaders catch my eye. My stomach knots like it does every time I see them. But unlike before, now it�
�s for a different reason. The person I look for is no longer there. Her squad has left her behind, most days it’s like she never even existed.
Something uncomfortable tugs at my gut, but anger begins to burn through me. I have no idea if it’s for the way they’ve allowed her to vanish like she was nothing, or for how she hurt those I care about, but it’s there, nonetheless.
I’m just about to move to where the guys are waiting for me when the cheerleaders part and a familiar flash of dark hair catches my eye.
My breathing falters, and I stop dead in my tracks as I wait for her to turn to see me. But she never does.
“Everyone in,” Jake shouts, dragging me from my daze.
I run over to join my team and huddle with them. Normally when we’re like this before a game, we’re the only people who exist, the outside world stops, the crowd disappears and we focus on the game, on our teammates, on our win. But that’s far from how I’m feeling right now. My head’s spinning with questions and my blood is boiling with anger. Everyone thinks I’m the quiet one, the calm one, and mostly that’s true. But there’s something about her that makes me forget all that and lose my goddamn mind.
“Champions on three. One. Two. Three.”
I fight to pull my head out of my ass and focus on what I should be doing.