Broken Trust: A Dark High School Romance(13)

Eddy wrinkled her nose in distaste, sneering in blondie’s direction. “That is why the guys are going into major freak out mode. Katelyn Huntley.”

I spluttered the sip of water I’d just taken. “Sorry, fucking what?”

“They didn’t tell you? Seems a bit stupid,” Eddy was muttering, and I snapped my fingers at her to bring the focus back.

“They told me there was a spy, but they didn’t say it was an actual fucking Huntley heir. I thought Delta owned this school?” I was trying to keep my volume down, so my words were coming out in a harsh whisper. “How is this possible?”

She shrugged. “Beats me, no one tells me anything, remember? I only know who she is because I hacked into her school records just before lunch. She’s enrolled under Katelyn French, but her birth certificate has her surname as Huntley. She’s the youngest daughter of Graeme Huntley, CEO of Huntley Tech. Oh, and his wife, Cunt— Christie Huntley.”

It was very clear that Eddy was not a fan of the wife. If she was anything like the daughter—my one minute impression of her anyway—then I wasn’t surprised.

A dull ache was forming behind my right eyeball and I rubbed at my forehead. A Huntley heir. Fucking typical of the boys to leave that minor detail out.

“She looks like a bitch,” I commented, casting another look in the new girl’s direction. She’d moved fast, already surrounding herself with fawning acolytes who appeared to be pandering to her every whim—including shooting a spitball at me.

Eddy snorted. “She’s that and more. Worse yet? She’s spending a lot of time hanging off Beck, which is both weird and screwed up. They’re enemies.”

Jealousy and primal possessiveness flared up inside me, and I had to swallow it back with conscious effort. “Good for her,” I said, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. “They’d make a lovely couple.” The words were like acid on my tongue, and suddenly I’d totally lost my appetite.

My friend started laughing, grinning at me like a hyena. “You’re a sucky liar, Riley Jameson.” She nudged my tray. “Are you done with that? You should probably get going to the gym before the bell rings. I can only imagine what these bitches will have cooked up over the lunch break.” She shuddered, and I groaned.

“Fuck it.” I sighed as I followed Eddy to put our trays away. “No amount of high school bullying can make me forgive Beck for what he did.” She made a noise, and I realized what I’d said. “Or any of them.”

Eddy gave me a quick hug, like she was wishing me luck in my next class, then headed off in the direction of her own, leaving me with my gloomy thoughts.

Fucking Beck. Yes, I was the most pissed off at him, and rightly fucking so! None of the other boys had lured me into their bed. None of the others had made me care. Made me think they cared.

Pain rippled through me as I acknowledged the falsity in that line of thought. I had thought they cared. All of them.

But not like Beck.





When the rest of the girls in my class entered the gym and saw me sitting there already in my sports clothes, their scowls could have stripped paint. Eddy was right. They’d been planning something.

Even so, they satisfied themselves throughout the class by tripping me, throwing balls at my face—which I managed to dodge—and shoulder checking me way more than a game of volleyball called for.

The whole thing was baffling. They acted like they would get some kind of prize for being bitches toward me. Maybe they thought they would? In the form of Beck’s dick down their throat in a dirty supply closet.

The thought should have made me roll my eyes with contempt and disgust, but all my body could conjure up was burning jealousy. Goddamn Sebastian Roman fucking Beckett was still under my skin.

After the class finished I hung around as long as humanly possible before entering the locker rooms. As badly as I wanted to skip the whole showering and changing situation, I smelled. Bad. The amount of effort it had taken to evade the worst of the attacks during volleyball had left me sweating and exhausted.

“Hello?” I called out cautiously as I peered around the seemingly empty locker room. “Anyone in here?”

No sound came back to me except the dripping of the showers. I’d managed to kill a solid twenty minutes slowly packing up the volleyball equipment and it was already well into the next class period so I’d have been surprised if anyone else was still here. Still, it didn’t hurt to check.

Quickly as I could, I checked all cubicles to verify that I was indeed alone, then grabbed my stuff and locked myself into a shower. Only once the little bolt clicked over did I let out the breath I was holding.

“Fuck me,” I muttered under my breath as I stripped off my sweaty sports clothes and hung them on the back of the door. “This social outcast shit is exhausting.”

I took my time in the shower because, screw it. I was already so late for my next class that I may as well take my time. It wasn’t until I’d dried off and pulled on my underwear that I noticed.

“Fuck,” I cursed, holding up my uniform. Someone had taken to it with a pair of scissors or a knife or something, because my skirt was shredded into ribbons and my shirt was full of holes. I hadn’t noticed when I’d grabbed it from my locker because it’d been tucked into the top of my bag where I’d left it.