Chapter 4
FOUR
JESSICA
Bleakmoor is a town divided. Not by fences or laws, but by money and the weight of old names.
Names like Ravencourt, Rousseau, Sterling and Sinclair.
On the south end, Bleakmoor Heights stretches along the cliffs like something out of a painting. Think luxurious mansions, iron gates and private beaches.
Four families built this town, and they’re considered royalty in this backward place.
Their spoiled kids drive imported cars, and their last names unlock privileges others can’t access.
They attend Bleakmoor Heights University, where tuition costs more than most people earn in a year, and legacy is everything.
Their future is already set. But it’s a world I can’t relate to as someone who’s had to fight for every crumb.
Which brings me to my next point.
Bleakmoor Falls. The north side.
That’s where I’m from.
Up here, the town is full of derelict buildings that look like they’re one storm away from collapsing. Salt eats away at the bricks, and weeds grow from the cracks in the roads. Locals crowd the bars after long shifts, and young people find new and inventive ways to get into trouble.
We go to Bleakmoor Falls College if we’re lucky, and that’s if we haven’t been pulled into drugs and crime first. The classrooms are old, the heat rarely works, and we don’t have rich daddies to pave the path ahead of us.
We fight for every fucking penny just to survive.
But we have heart and a sense of community that can’t be bought with a black card.
In some ways, I’m proud of being ‘trailer trash.’
I don’t actually live in a trailer, but the house is so small, it’s not far off one, but whatever.
Graffiti is another thing that’s everywhere around here, on buildings and lockers. Some would even call it art, myself included.
Luckily, I’m one of the few fortunate ones to attend college, even if our education is subpar, and I even have a locker that’s still intact. Trust me, you can’t take that for granted here.
A few weeks ago, two guys had a fist fight and crashed into the one next to mine. The caretaker took one look at the deep dent, shook his head, and walked off.
The owner of that locker is a scrawny guy called Jamie who lives on my street. He hasn’t been able to close it fully since the fight, and it doesn’t appear that the dent will be fixed anytime soon.
When I unlock mine now, a snickering guy walks by and drops a used condom through the gap of Jamie’s.
Creep. I didn’t need the visual of the cum inside, but m’kay.
“Gross,” Rain mutters behind me, her flowery perfume thick in the air.
“Are you surprised?” I ask, inputting the code. That shit never surprises me because no one around these parts of town cares about our surroundings. Everything is already so bleak… Why bother?
Summer’s heels tap on the dirt-streaked floor as she walks up to us. I finally manage to open my locker and grab the books I need.
That’s the thing here too… We don’t have access to the latest technology, unlike rich kids like Kane Ravencourt. We have to make do with pen and paper.
Kane…
Ever since I jerked his cock under gunpoint, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night. Honestly, I still can’t believe I did that… threatened someone like him with a weapon and got him off.
I liked it. Power plays have always turned me on, and some of the hardcore porn I watch reflects that. But to actually dominate someone as powerful as Ravencourt? To watch his pulse thunder beneath the gun as he came for me? I still tingle every time I think about it…
Whatever, just don’t ask why I did it, because I can’t tell you what came over me. The man is twice my size, if not triple. He could’ve taken control if he wanted to.
Kane Ravencourt was angry that night, for sure, but he didn’t fear me. He didn’t worry that I would pull the trigger.
For some reason, he let me toy with him until he came all over his shirt and my hand. But why? Why not use his strength to teach me a lesson? He wanted to… I could tell.
But there’s nothing he can do about it now. Thankfully, I thought ahead and was careful to wear a mask to protect my identity that night. He doesn’t know who I am and never will.
“Say what you will,” Summer says, stealing me from my thoughts, “Malice is attractive.”
“Ew,” Rain protests, popping her pink gum. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“Still…” Summer watches Malice and the other guys—Sam and Jackson—saunter down the hall. They’re rowdy as hell, though that’s nothing new. The three of them, along with my brother, have been best friends for as long as I can remember.
After Mom entered hospice last year, Chris dropped out of college to work at the local garage.
It wasn’t ideal for anyone, but we needed money for the rent.
Or we’d have to find somewhere else to live.
I hate that he had to sacrifice his chance at a better future, but he insists that he’s the least brainy one in our family.
“Still, what?” Rain questions, folding her arms over her chest, her high ponytail sliding over one shoulder. She has never lacked attitude. That’s what I admire about her.
“He’s hot.” Summer shrugs, a blush crawling into her cheeks.
“My brother is a manwhore,” Rain deadpans. “Fucks anything with a hole. He’s also a psychopath and has a screw loose. A sweet, innocent girl like you couldn’t handle him.”
Summer’s blush deepens until I almost feel sorry for her. It’s true what Rain said, though. Her brother is, for lack of a better word, insane.
“Be nice—” I start, but the words die on my tongue when the hairs on my neck stand on end.
I shut my locker before glancing around the busy hallway. Summer and Rain keep arguing, and their voices fade into the background as my eyes scan the tired students around me.
Someone is watching me. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.
I jump when a heavy arm drops over my shoulder, and Jackson pulls me into his firm chest, his spicy cologne scent prickling my nose. “Looking good, Jessica.”
Really? I glance down at my faded jeans and The Prodigy hoodie. I’ve always dressed casually, unlike Summer, who likes flowery dresses, and Rain with her purple hair and leather pants.
“Gross.” Rain rolls her eyes while Sam warns his cousin that Chris will hack off his arm if he doesn’t remove it.
My brother has always been overprotective of me and Summer.
Unfazed, Jackson chuckles while he guides us away from the lockers.
“Who’s gonna snitch, huh? You? It won’t be Malice.
Don’t assume he would strain himself like that.
The only time that guy talks is when he orders Mrs. Carol next door to bark like a dog when she crawls to him.
I know that because I smoked a cigarette outside of his trailer the other day.
Those walls are fucking thin. What about you, Sam?
You’re my cousin. It would wound my heart if you put someone else ahead of family. ”
Sam looks up from his phone. “Are you still talking?”
Jackson ignores him, glancing down at me. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You’re quiet today.”
There’s that feeling of eyes on me again. I offer Jackson a reassuring smile. “I’m good.”
We turn the corner, and I escape from under the weight of Jackson’s arm, excusing myself to go to the restroom. They barely notice me. Rain debates with Sam about whether it’s true that the water tower in town is haunted as they continue on their way.
I reach for the handle, but before I can pull the door open, a group of girls exits, so I step aside, waiting for them to file out. The air smells of piss when I enter… piss and cheap lemony air freshener.
Sometimes, I wonder what the bathrooms are like at the university across town. I bet they have cleaners who keep every surface gleaming.
Once I’ve relieved myself in one of the graffitied stalls, I wash my hands while inspecting my pale face in the cracked mirror above the sink. Exhaustion is evident in the dark circles under my eyes.
It’s been months since I’ve had a good night’s sleep, with everything going on with Mom and the unpaid bills stacking up. I just want a break for once. My family deserves a stroke of luck.
When my hands are dry, I throw the crumpled paper towel into the trash can on my way out of the bathroom. I’m too lost in my thoughts to notice the muscular wall before it’s too late, and an embarrassing squeak leaves me when I collide with a broad chest that smells of expensive cologne and soap.
“We meet again, little rabbit.” Two big hands guide me back into the bathroom, and Kane shuts the door behind him.
How did he find me?
The resounding click of the lock makes me flinch.
I back away, and Kane’s lips lift slightly at the corners, but there’s nothing soft or sweet about that predatory smile. “Remember this?” he asks, wiggling my gold mask in the air.
My eyes saucer, and I stare at it for a few moments too long, struggling to make sense of what the hell is going on. When did he get hold of my mask? How did he figure out it was me?
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks, voice smug as he puts the mask on the nearest sink and stalks me deeper into the room.
I don’t even know why I’m backing away, but I suppose it’s just instinct at this point. My body knows there’s danger in the room with us, and it’s calling the shots.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Deny all knowledge. Don’t admit a thing. I went to great lengths to hide my face that night, and my tracks were covered. Kane can’t prove otherwise. I hope.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about, huh?” His wicked chuckle heightens my fear, and something else. Something far more shameful. “It’s alright,” he drawls. “I’m sure we can jog your memory.”
“What are you doing here?” Despite how much I try to mask my fear, my voice trembles. “Aren’t you a little lost?”