Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(5)

This girl wants in. Bad. She smirks down the hallway at Oscar and Brawler when they stop to look back at us. The flow of the other students moves around them. Now that she has their attention, she returns her stare to me. “I guess you are a princess, huh?”

My jaw locks. I now have a raging fucking headache. I knew I wasn’t going to get out of today unscathed, but fuck. I have to remind myself that it’s all part of my plan. I reach up, feeling the bruised skin that’s already forming a welt above my eyebrow. “What was that for?”

The girl laughs, cocking her head back. She has huge hoop earrings in, which is the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. She has to know the second she gets into a fight, someone’s going to rip those out of her fucking ear. She must be under more protection than I thought. “Bat says you won’t last two days.” She steps in closer. “I’m making sure that happens.”

I sneak a peek behind her to find Oscar, a.k.a. Bat, and Brawler openly watching us still. They don’t move to the side of the hallway or try to hide what they’re doing, they just stare. Because they’re looking our way, everyone else does too.

Moving to look back at the desperate girl, I raise my eyebrows at her. I take a quick look, scanning down her body, trying to figure out how much of a problem she’s going to be. With the way she keeps checking over her shoulder, it’s apparent she’s all bark and no bite. She just wants to put on a show.

Well, so do I. I step back against my locker, holding my book bag to myself again. I keep my hand on the lump forming on my forehead. I’ve had far worse injuries, but they don’t need to know that. “This has been the shittiest day,” I groan.

The girl in front of me looks over, eyes gleaming. “It’s only going to get worse from here.”

“Why?” I ask, pretending like I can barely even meet her eyes.

“Because you’re in Rawley Heights now, Princess.” She gives me a dismissive look. “We don’t fuck around.”





2





The first thing I need to do when I sneak my way into the Heights Crew is get rid of the fucking name Princess.

The asshole who thought that up deserves a fucking nut kick.

After the girl who slammed my head into the locker decided it was much more fun to cozy up to Oscar and Brawler than to fuck with me, I walked toward the main office. It’s not my first choice to find myself heading this way on the first day, but I need a lock. Surely, just because this school is filled with gang bangers and miscreants doesn’t mean they don’t have a maintenance department, right? They must have extra locks somewhere.

I shake my head as I walk close to the walls. I can imagine what any of the stuck-up rich assholes I went to school with once upon a time would look like here in Rawley Heights. Comical. Downright hysterical. Yes, please, sir. I don’t seem to be able to utilize my locker. May I get reassigned? The thought is almost enough to make me smile. Almost.

The Rawley Heights High School Office is just a singular, solid door. To the right, a ripped computer paper sign that looks as if it’s been taped a handful of times says, you guessed it: office. It’s not even capitalized. Paint chipping on the side of the door makes me think there used to be a legit sign here once, but who knows how long that’s been gone. I double-check the area to make sure I’m in the right place. It’s unlike any Main Office I’ve ever seen. Usually, they’re encased with windows that look out into the hallway or flanked with school spirit signs. There is none of that here. They’ve basically made it as unwelcoming as possible.

I turn the knob and push the heavy door open. Once inside, I take note of the dirt brown, threadbare carpet and the overall seventies coloring of oranges and green that cover the walls and aesthetics. My gaze traces over a hallway that branches out. It’s dim, as is the entire office itself. Most of the lights are off. The doors are shut. “Hello?”

A musty smell barrages me, like this place doesn’t get used often. I wait for a response, but there isn’t one. I walk farther in. An empty sunburnt-colored desk sits front and center. Piles of paperwork are strewn over it along with several wire baskets filled with more papers.

I sigh. There’s literally no one around. The bell only rang five minutes ago. Shouldn’t administration be staying later than the students? That only seems logical.

A creaking noise interrupts the stillness. I tilt my head, trying to figure out where the sound came from. It’s then I notice there’s an open door just to the right of the empty desk. I walk forward right before a hissing sound pours out of the room followed by a masculine “Oh, fuck yes.”

I stop. Curiosity burns through me. It can’t be what I think it is. I glance up just as the blinds on the window that look out into this room fly upward.

My heart falters in my chest as I stare into the eyes of Johnny Rocket. My skin turns cold then heats when I read the pleasure in his eyes. My gaze drifts lower, and my stomach clenches. I press my lips together to keep from spewing the empty contents of my stomach everywhere.

Johnny’s sitting on the edge of another sunburnt orange desk. His feet propped up on the open bottom drawers on either side of the desk, he’s tilted back slightly, and a head is going to town on his dick. His eyes gleam. “We’re going to need a minute.”

The woman startles when she realizes he’s talking to someone. She tries to pull away, enough so that the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes are clearly visible, which tells me she’s a lot older than Johnny. She’s also wearing a collared blouse with her hair in an updo that Johnny demolishes when he pulls her mouth back to his cock. I swear he pulls her so hard she had to have gagged, but instead, she moans like she loves being manhandled by this spawn of Satan.