FAZE: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Rosewood High)

  Faze

  A Rosewood High #6 Prequel

  Tracy Lorraine

  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.

  Edited by My Brother’s Editor

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Also by Tracy Lorraine

  THORN

  THORN

  1

  Ashton

  Looking around the lavish house that I have never wanted to visit, anger races through my veins.

  This is the last place in the world I wanted to be.

  I should be home in the shitty apartment that Mom and I live in back in Seattle, but I’m not. I’m in his house, the asshole that ruined both of our lives.

  It’s been over five years since he walked away, leaving us with fuck all, just the bitter taste of his betrayal.

  Mom said it was fine, that it was for the best. But it’s all bullshit. She’s tried to put a brave face on, tried to convince me that their relationship really was over and that he didn’t shatter all of her hopes and dreams for the future.

  But I know her better than she thinks. I see the shadows in her eyes. The coldness, the loneliness, that set in after he left. I also don’t miss the number of bottles that sit in our recycling on a weekly basis. They seem to be multiplying week by week, and I have no fucking idea how to help her.

  Getting suspended from school again for fighting probably wasn’t the best thing to do to help, but that prick has had it coming for a long time.

  I think of Jonathon fucking Parker and the way he looked down at us all like he was something fucking special.

  My fists curl once again as if he’s in touching distance. If I could take him out all over again I would.

  My busted knuckles split open, the sting of pain a reminder I don’t need of where I am right now.

  He’d asked me time and time again over the years to come and visit his new home, his new family. But every time I refused. I had no interest in meeting the bitch that took him away from us or the girl who he got to play daddy for while he mostly forgot that I existed.

  My teeth grind as I think about everything I lost the day he walked away. My best fucking friend. That’s what I lost.

  But this time was different. It wasn’t him asking me to come. It was Mom. And as much as I wanted to refuse her request, I couldn’t. One look into her tired, stressed eyes and I knew she needed the break probably as much as I did.

  I haven’t made it easy for her the past few years. I’ve been suspended more times than I can remember. I’ve been on my last warning at that shithole of a school for months, but the principal is a fucking pussy, so I doubt he’ll ever actually kick me out. It’ll give him too much paperwork to do, and we all know how much he hates doing any actual work.

  “Please, Ash. Go and spend the week with him. Clear your head. It can be a fresh start when you get back.” Her words ring out in my mind as if she’s standing next to me having the conversation.

  I couldn’t say no to her. I’ve never been able to. Having experienced how much hurt he’s caused her. I’d hate to do the same. I know I’m a constant disappointment to her, but no matter how I try not to be, it happens, nonetheless.

  My temper always gets the better of me. My hate gets the better of me. My fury gets the better of me. It’s only right that it does. It is my name, after all. The one and only thing I have that still connects me to the man who spends his days under this roof.

  The perfect all-American family home. Wrap-around porch, the huge kitchen with an island in the center, the pristine garden and the glistening pool. It’s a million miles away from the place Mom and I call home now.

  I stand at the window waiting for her to pull up. Lisa, my stepmom, excitedly told me that I could expect her any time now before both her and Dad disappeared not long after picking me up from the airport. I can’t fucking wait to meet my stepsister. It’s been a long time coming, that’s for sure.

  I’ve seen the odd photo of her when I’ve needed to torture myself and looked at his Facebook. Every single time all it’s done is to add to the anger that lives inside me as I see images of them together playing happy family.

  He should be doing that with us. His real family. Not his replacements.

  My teeth grind right as a little blue car pulls up in front of the house.

  I lean toward the window a little, trying to get a better view of her before we’re face to face. I need to get a read on her, try to make a game plan.

  I know nothing about her aside from the fact she played a part in ruining my life. That he chose her and her mother over me and mine. His son and wife. The ones whose best intentions he should have had at heart.

  Disappointment settles in my stomach when she doesn’t immediately get out of the car. Instead, she looks down, I guess at her cell.

  After a few minutes, she looks up at the house and blows out a long breath.

  Is she nervous? Apprehensive about meeting me?

  If she’s not, she fucking should be.

  This house, that I can only assume is her sanctuary, her home, is about to become the place of living nightmares because my darling stepsister has never met someone like me before, I can fucking guarantee it.

  After what feels like a lifetime, she pushes the door open and a pair of legs emerge before she stands.

  Her head barely appears above the door. She’s so small, so breakable. I rub my hands together as my plan for my time here floats around in my head.

  You ruined my life, I’m about to turn yours upside down, you motherfucker.

  The second she slams the door, a smile twitches at the corners of my mouth.

  She’s wearing the smallest pair of shorts, that I can only imagine are cut high across her ass, and a crop top that shows off her tiny waist and more than ample tits.

  Oh yeah, she’s definitely rocking something I can work with.

  Walking to the other side of the room, I wait out of sight for her to let herself in.

  She does so quickly, but it’s not until I hear her purse hit the table that I step from my hiding space.

  2

  Ruby

  I stare up at the house and blow out a long breath, hoping that the nerves that are fluttering in my belly will subside.

  Ashton is inside.

  I had no idea he was coming, although I don’t think anyone was aware until a few hours ago.

  Mom and Stephen might have been together for years now, married even, yet I’ve never met my elusive stepbrother.

  The strained relationship between him and Stephen isn’t a secret, his refusal to attend the wedding was just the tip of the iceberg.

  The thing I don’t know is why. Why he hates his father so much. Stephen is a good man. I mean, he’s not my dad, no one could ever replace him, but as far as stepdads go, I consider myself pretty lucky.

  That could all be about to change though.

  Sucking in a breath and hopefully a shit load of confidence with it, I push open the door and head for the house.

  My muscles ache from the hard practice Chelsea just put
us through. But I loved it. I love the pain, the knowledge that I pushed myself.

  I’ve wanted to be on the squad for as long as I can remember. The day it was announced I was in was one of the best of my life. I’m determined to prove myself over the coming months, I want to show the seniors that I’m as good as them, that they were right to choose me, that I won’t let them down.

  Throwing my purse over my shoulder and clutching a couple of books to my chest, I make my way to the house.

  It’s silent as I step inside, making me wonder if he’s here.

  Needing to get something to eat before I start on my homework, I drop my purse to the table in the hallway and take a step to the kitchen only when I do, a dark figure emerges from the living room.

  My heart plummets and a blood-curdling scream rips from my throat.

  I should run, I should leave the house as fast as I entered, but my body doesn’t respond to instruction. It freezes as my limbs tremble with fear and my vision blurs.

  All I see is the figure before me, head to toe in black with his hood casting his face in darkness.

  As my blood rushes past my ears and my heart pounds like a fucking drum, he lifts his head.

  The first thing I see are his lips curled into an accomplished smirk, but that’s enough to know who it is.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I bark, my voice betraying me and trembling slightly with every word.

  He takes a step toward me and lowers his hood.

  His dark, almost inky black eyes lock on mine and a shudder runs down my spine. His scent hits my nose and fuck if the smell doesn’t have my mouth watering.

  Damn him.

  Ripping my eyes from his, I take in the rest of his face, a face I’ve only seen on the odd photo.

  His nose is slightly crooked, he’s got a scar on his cheek and his jawline is sharp, sharper than should be allowed on someone who is clearly this much of an asshole, but none of those really capture my attention, it’s his lips that mesmerize me. They’re full, almost too full for a dude. I bet he’s a really good kisser.

  It’s not until he sinks his teeth into the bottom one that I manage to shake the crazy thoughts from my head and look back up to his eyes.

  He closes even more space between us.

  My head is a mess after almost having a freaking heart attack but no matter how distracting his lips are, my sensible side speaks up and I take a huge step back, only when I do, my back hits the wall, stopping any further retreat.

  His lips twitch into a smile, knowing that he’s got me.

  “What do you want, Ashton?”

  I try again, getting quickly fed up with his scary, broody, silent treatment.

  His eyes scan over my face once more.

  “I need your car keys.”

  “Go to hell.”

  His eyes widen at my refusal. Was he really expecting me to bend to his demand and hand them right over?

  A laugh falls from his lips, it’s low, unamused, evil even, and it makes something in my stomach clench in fear.

  Is this how murderers act right before putting you out of your misery?

  “Keys, little girl.” He holds his hand out, but my only reaction is to raise a brow and to tilt my chin in defiance.

  “Little girl? Fuck you, Ashton.”

  I push to move around him, but he’s not having any of it. His large hand lands on my shoulder and pushes me back where I was.

  “Ow,” I complain when my shoulder blade connects with the wall.

  His eyes prowl down the length of my body and I suddenly wish I’d changed after cheer practice. I feel naked under his stare in my tiny workout clothes.

  “You really want to play this game, little girl?”

  “I’m not a little girl, Ashton. I’m a few months younger than you, get over yourself.”

  “So I see.” His eyes lock on my chest. As much as I want to cover up, I don’t want him to think that his asshole attitude has any effect on me whatsoever.

  His eyes lift once more, and something crackles between us. Hate? It has to be because it can’t possibly be anything else. This guy is an asshole of epic proportions.

  Who does he think he is standing here demanding my car keys as if he owns the place?

  We’ve lived in this house for almost four years, not once has he ever made the effort to come and visit, to spend time with his dad and to meet his new family.

  I can’t really say I’m all that disappointed if this is the kind of person he is. No wonder Stephen has never put much effort into visiting his only child.

  “Do you mind, I’ve got shit to be doing that doesn’t involve hanging out in the hallway with you.”

  I swallow down my nerves when his hands land on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

  “Give me your keys and you can continue with your pathetic little life.”

  “You’re an ass,” I spit, ducking under his arm and racing around him.

  I might have escaped, but the second he spins and notices that I look straight to my purse, he moves.

  We both lunge for it at the same time, but seeing as he’s not a midget, he beats me to it.

  “Ashton,” I warn, my voice low.

  He glances at me for a beat before opening it up and rummaging around.

  I stand with my hands on my hips, feeling totally violated. I would say something, but I feel at this point it would probably fall on deaf ears. Ashton clearly gives zero fucks about me, or anything, it seems, so long as he gets his way.

  The sooner he fucks back off to his mom in Seattle, the better.

  With a wide smile that exposes a perfectly straight set of white teeth—asshole—he waves my keys in the air.

  “See now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “You’re a dick.”

  “I’ve been called worse, little one. I’m outta here.”

  “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”

  He leaves with the sound of his amused chuckle filling the hallway.

  “Argh,” I scream the second I know he’s out of earshot.

  For years I’ve wanted to meet my stepbrother. Now I’m wondering why I even spared him a thought.

  Ashton Fury is a douchebag, and I think Stephen might just be better off without him.

  He’s only staying a few days. Only a few days, I tell myself as I pick up my discarded purse and head for the kitchen.

  3

  Ashton

  I fucking hate social media. All the dickheads posting random shit about their lives that no one else really gives a crap about. Although they like each post just so they look like they care.

  Bullshit. All of it.

  Having said that though, it’s the perfect place to find exactly what I need.

  As I put the address into the GPS, I half expect her to come running out of the house to attempt to drag me out of her car. But when I glance up at the front door, I find it closed as I left it.

  I had no idea what to expect from my stepsister. All I knew was her name and age. Obviously, I had hopes that she might not be a complete loser, but I could have only wished for the hot little body that emerged from this very car earlier.

  I like her feisty side. If I didn’t hate her, I might think it was cute.

  There’s only one thing I feel toward my stepsister. Indignation.

  She’s lived the perfect little life here with my father and her whore of a mother, all the while Mom and I were forgotten.

  My knuckles turn white, splitting once more with the force of my grip on the wheel as I back out of the driveway.

  The address I was given online seems to be right on the other side of town. Good thing she’s got a full tank of gas. It would have seriously pissed me off if I had to spend the little money I have on gas instead of something to help me get through the next few days.

  The guy I’d arranged to meet was waiting for me in the deserted parking lot he’d directed me to, and after little fuss, I head back toward
the house I don’t want to be in with exactly what I need in my back pocket.

  There are still no other cars in the driveway, not that I’m surprised. Dad said that they’d be gone most of the night. Some bullshit about going to a local golf club or something. I can’t say I was really listening. I took the money he offered, nodded when he suggested I order takeout, and turned my back on him.

  I didn’t want him under any illusion that I actually wanted to be here. That I came because I thought his suggestion was a good idea. Fucking hardly. If I thought coming to visit would be fun then I would have done it years ago.

  All I was doing was trying to make life easier for Mom. If me being away for a while gave her the space to breathe, then I’d almost willingly do it.

  Anything for her. The woman who’s given her entire life to look after me, to give me everything I need. It’s not like the asshole in this house has helped since the day he walked away and left us high and dry.

  I stare up at the house, wondering if she’s heard me return and is waiting with a kitchen knife in hand. Or is she going to be hiding? Oddly, that thought is more appealing.

  I got to her earlier, I know I did. I almost want to see her try to ignore me, trying to pretend that I’m not here, not driving her crazy. It’ll make this game so much more entertaining for me.

  I have every intention of this being my first and last visit here. My plan is to ride out the year, graduate… maybe, then get a job. I want to start earning some real money so Mom and I can get a better place, somewhere with heat that actually works in the winter and air conditioning for the summer. I want to be able to look out of at least one window and not stare directly into some other scumbag’s apartment.

  With a sigh, I push from the car with my purchase burning a hole in my pocket. I’m more than ready to kick back and make the most of the queen-size bed instead of the twin I’m used to.