Chapter Thirty-One
Cal
I drum my fingers on my desk, glaring at the clock on the wall in my classroom. Ten minutes late. Not usual for Charlotte. I’m packed and ready to go, so I pull my messenger bag up over my shoulder so I can go look for her. After I lock up the classroom, I head toward the English wing.
On the way there, I try to remember what it is Mom wanted me to get from the store for Thanksgiving. Time has flown by since Jordy and Little Hornet’s wedding last month. Charlotte has eaten up most of that time. Having a girlfriend is distracting from life. All I want to do is spend every waking minute between her thighs, kissing her until she’s begging for a whole lot more.
That is, when her annoying friend isn’t stealing her away from me.
I try not to pout when I think of Loden. He’s okay, I guess. Charlotte told me a little about him. How he’s a famous guitarist who hates the publicity and pressure. They met in rehab because he flew off the rails and took out a rich bitch shop in Hollywood or some shit. For some reason, they need each other. And because she needs him in some capacity, I try to reel in my jealousy. Not to mention the fact he’s gay.
Again, having a girlfriend is hard.
Fucking worth it, though.
Her smiles. Her sassy attitude. The dark, starved look in her needy blue eyes whenever she licks the tip of my cock. Totally worth it.
I guess I can understand Roan and Jordy now. The way they easily put all their focus into the ones they love.
Love.
Do I even know what the fuck that shit is?
Apparently so. I’ve never felt this soul-crushing need to be someone’s everything before. With Charlotte, I want to follow her around, picking up any pieces of herself she drops or loses so I can glue her the fuck back together. I want to stand in front of her and slay all the goddamn dragons. I want to carry the little princess up to my tower and ravish her until The motherfucking End . Love is fairytale shit, and I finally get it.
My girl flies out of the classroom, her head down and her ass on fire, as she texts rapidly. I feel the buzz in my pocket, making me smile. She nearly crashes into me, not paying attention. A surprised, slightly terrified shriek escapes her.
“Hey, Charlie girl,” I say, sliding my fingers into her hair and tilting her head up. “Going somewhere in a hurry?”
Fear.
Anger.
Worry.
The blast of emotions flickering at me is confusing. I press a soft kiss to her lips and then frown. Ryan hasn’t tried to mess with her since that night at the football game right before the wedding. I’m worried he’s up to some shit again.
“You okay?”
A shudder ripples through her. “Yep.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she bites out.
Anger surges through me. This is the problem with girlfriends. They also piss you off too. Charlotte is independent—something that simultaneously turns me on and annoys the fuck out of me.
“I can’t help you if you don’t let me,” I grind out, glowering at her.
“Trust me,” she murmurs. “I handled it.”
A door slams shut, making Charlotte jump. I dart my eyes to find Wes locking his classroom, his back to us. When he turns, he reveals his face.
Red. Angry. Slashes.
His eyes meet mine. For one second, they’re burning with rage, but then terror gleams in them.
I start past Charlotte, ready to beat his ass, but she digs those lethal claws into my bicep, holding me back. The pussy predator scampers off, disappearing around a corner.
“What did he do?” I snarl, snapping my attention back to Charlotte.
She closes her eyes. “What is it about me?”
Gripping her jaw, I tilt her head up. “Look at me, English.”
Defeated blue eyes part open.
“You’re gorgeous. Sweet. Fucking smart as hell. Athletic. These pieces of shit want a piece of wonderful in their world and will go to great lengths to obtain it.” I peck her lips. “But they don’t deserve you. Hell, I don’t deserve you. But unlike them, I want to take care of you and pleasure you and fucking spoil you. Don’t let a few bad apples taint your view of the world or yourself. You’re perfect. You’re mine.”
She smiles and then it fades. “What happened with him and Roux?”
“Did you ask Roux?”
“I keep getting the brush-off. Something happened. And…” She frowns. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
“What did he do?” I demand, trying and failing to keep my voice level and calm.
“He’s been asking me to read his poems. Trying to get me to go have coffee with him. Flirting. Making comments about my social media.”
My blood boils. Fucking stalker.
“I’ve been pretty good at blowing him off,” she says. “Usually, I’m in a rush for cheer practice or to come see you. Today, though, he stopped me before I had a chance to leave. He said he wanted to talk about my grades.”
If I’d known she’d spent those last ten minutes alone with him, I would’ve run my ass down here to break his nose for even looking at her.
“He shut the door,” she murmurs. “I got a gross feeling. He was looking at me like he was going to do something. He got closer and closer. I felt trapped.”
I’m going to make this motherfucker go down.
“He tried to kiss me. Like he had that right.” Her blue eyes flare with anger. “All I could think about was Ryan and the way he forced himself on me. So, rather than panicking, I fought. I scratched his face and he quickly stumbled away.”
“And then?”
“I told him if he touched me again I’d send every Hornet in Horn River, my dad, his ex-convict best friend, and my psychotic boyfriend to take turns breaking the bones in his body.”
I snort out a laugh. “Oh, beautiful, you’ve been hanging out with me and T too much.”
“It worked,” she sasses. “He looked terrified. Then I ran into you.”
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I read the text she sent.
Charlie Girl: Wes tried to kiss me. I clawed him and threatened major bodily harm.
“Good girl,” I praise. “Next time I see him, I’m going to deck him again.”
“Again?”
“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time this fucker has tried to hurt one of you Hornet girls.”
“Roux…” Her blue eyes flash with worry. “Is she…did he…”
“She’s fine. I stopped what he planned. Roux doesn’t want Roan or Jordy to know. If they do, they’ll kill him and wind up in prison. Can you keep a secret, loser?”
She smirks. “I can. I find you oddly calm, though. What are you planning, Mr. Hutton?”
“Revenge,” I state simply. “The kind that takes a little time and research, but tastes sweet in the end. Speaking of sweet. Mom wants us to pick up some stuff for Thanksgiving on Thursday. Your dad and Penny still coming?”
“Yeah. Thanksgiving will be different this year not spending it with Mom, but now that Dad is dating Elise, it’ll be weird for him to show up at Aunt Karen’s.”
“Oh great. Elise is coming?”
“Unfortunately. Will your parents be okay with that?”
“Mom is nice to everyone, but Elise isn’t known in this town for having the best reputation. Her dad once tried to sue mine over his campground. As soon as Dad finds out her last name, I can’t promise he’ll be welcoming.”
“I’ll warn my dad,” she assures me. “Maybe he’ll leave her at home. She’s like the cheaper, bitchy version of my mom. Same hair. Same height. Same body build. I’m embarrassed for Dad. I don’t think he even sees it.”
“Some friend Jace is.”
She laughs. “This didn’t happen on Jace’s watch when they went out. Dad met Elise at the country club when he was playing golf with the mayor. Jace says she’s an uppity bitch with whore tendencies.”
“And what did Garrett have to say about that?” I ask, amused at Jace’s bluntness.
“That at least he’s getting laid.”
“Fucking burn.”
“Yeah, so that’s gross. Let’s talk about something other than Dad’s love life.”
While Charlotte chatters on about her grades, I think about something more pressing. Wes. He tried to kiss my fucking girl . As soon as I send this girl home, I’m going to seek out Trey and we’re going to pay that fucker a visit.
“Can we just beat him to death?” Trey whispers. “It’d be much easier.”
“And have him coming out looking like an innocent victim? Fuck him. We’re doing it my way,” I grunt out. “Give me a boost.”
He sets his baseball bat down beside mine in the flower bed. I’ve managed to find the only window not locked at Wes’s house. It just so happens to be the one above the kitchen sink, which is too high to climb in by myself. I push the window up and then Trey hoists me up. It takes some maneuvering to get myself through the window and not make noise, but eventually, I crawl through. I land quietly on my feet and then let Trey in through the back door.
He holds our bats while I fish out my phone, looking for the flashlight. His kitchen is clean, as is the living room. Evil men hide their secrets, so I head straight for the room I know is his office. We slip inside and I make my way over to the desk. It’s locked, so I have to use my new pocketknife— thanks Zayne —to jimmy it open. Once I pull out the drawer, I find stacks of printed pictures. Of girls in his class from his desk, obviously discreetly taken. I come across a bunch of Roux that boils my blood.
“Fucking sicko,” Trey growls.
There are plenty of Charlotte, which has me pissed as fuck.
At the bottom of the stack are pictures of some girls I’ve seen around school. Freshmen. There are naked pictures of some of them that he obviously took. Even a few sexual acts.
I snag the handful up and stalk toward his bedroom where the door is shut. The urge to beat the fuck out of him is strong. Moans resound from the other side of the door. Slowly, I twist the knob and push open the door.
Flipping my camera to record, I point it toward the bed and then hit the lights on.
“What the fuck?” Wes bellows, rolling away from the girl he’s fucking.
Sure enough, one of the girls from the stack of pictures—a fucking freshman—is sprawled out on the bed, eyes wide with shock.
“It was consensual,” Wes blurts out. “She consented. Right, Brylee?”
Brylee nods, fear in her eyes. She thinks she’s in trouble.
“How old are you, Brylee?” I bark out, my eyes trained on Wes, who stands there naked and dick wet.
“Almost fifteen. But I wanted it,” she assures me. “Don’t get Mr. Ewing in trouble.”
Mr. Ewing.
Wes starts to grab his sweats up, but I shake my head.
“Don’t. I want you to walk the fuck back and sit on the floor in the corner,” I command. “Do it or you’ll fucking regret it.” I toss the pictures into the room. They flutter all over the bed and floor. “Get dressed, Brylee, and then go sit with Trey until the cops get here.”
Trey leaves my side and soon I can hear his voice as he speaks to someone over the phone. Wes buries his face in his hands as Brylee scrambles to dress. My camera is zoomed in on Wes.
“Admit you’re a sick, perverted fuck,” I growl. “Admit it.”
Wes scowls at me. The fact he still bears Charlotte’s defensive wounds makes me want to rip his eyeballs out.
“Admit it. You’re fucking busted, so you may as well admit it. I know your computer is filled with sick shit. I have video of you whacking off to little girls. You’ve been caught in the fucking act, man.”
“You’re not the police,” Wes snaps. “None of this will be admissible in court. You can’t just barge in like a fucking vigilante.”
“I did. They can’t ignore this shit. You’re a predator.”
“Let me get dressed, man.”
“Admit it and then you can have your clothes.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fine. Sit there with your tiny-ass dick and wait for the cops. I don’t care.”
“Fine,” he roars, throwing his hand up in the air. “I like Brylee. We’re seeing each other. I didn’t fucking rape her.”
“No, but you’ve tried to rape others.” I pin him with a hateful look. “Where’d you get those scratches?”
“None of your business.”
“It is my business, asshole, because my fucking girl gave them to you when you tried to force yourself on her.”
“So it’s okay for you to fuck your student, but not me.”
“She’s a goddamn adult. How old is Brylee again? That’s right. She just fucking hit puberty. You sicken me, little bitch.”
Wes rages and curses me out for the first few minutes. Eventually, he starts begging. Then crying. He’s a mess by the time Captain Fitzgerald and a few other men arrive.
“They broke in and started threatening me,” Wes cries out the moment Captain Fitzgerald steps into the room. “He wouldn’t even let me get dressed!”
I keep my phone recording because I don’t trust this guy. I’ll blast this shit all over the fucking world if I have to. This may not be admissible in court as evidence, but I can sure as hell ruin his life over it.
“What’s going on?” Fitzgerald asks, his voice calm.
“Wes over there likes little girls,” I explain. “He’s hurt two of my friends. There is sick shit on his computer and take a look at all those pictures.”
Wes starts to cry again. “Please…”
Fitzgerald picks up Wes’s sweats and tosses them at him. “Put these on, Ewing.” Then, he squats to look at the pictures, growing quiet.
“What’s going on here?” Michael Cunningham grinds out from behind me. “These two broke in and threatened Mr. Ewing? I’ve been itching for a reason to haul in Hutton. Looks like it’s my lucky day.”
I’m about to tell him to get fucked when Fitzgerald snaps his head up, a fiery glare in his eyes. “Enough.”
Michael takes a threatening step toward me. “This vigilante justice doesn’t fly, Captain, and you know it.”
“In this case, it’s warranted,” Fitzgerald barks out, thrusting a picture at Michael.
Michael shrugs. “Doesn’t mean Hutton’s not in the wrong too. I’m going to arrest—”
“You’re not going to do anything,” Fitzgerald snaps. “You’re already on thin ice, Cunningham. Remember your place.” He points at Wes. “Read him his rights. Cuff him.”
Michael’s face turns purple, but he obeys his commanding officer. Fitzgerald takes another hard look at the picture. I expect it to be one of the naked ones. It’s not, though. It’s Little Hornet. It’s one of the milder photos. But she’s not in a classroom. She’s in a bookstore or something, reading an iPad. The picture is creepy and weird. It’s obvious she doesn’t know he took it.
“Roux Hirsch has been through hell as it is,” Fitzgerald grumbles. “I didn’t realize she might have been going through more.”
“She’s Martin now,” I murmur, meeting his glare with a hard one of my own. “And my boy will die protecting her.” My gaze flits over to the predator. “Can you do whatever you can to make sure that doesn’t happen?”
Fitzgerald nods. “I like Martin. He’s done a lot for cleaning up this town and taking care of those two. This will be handled appropriately. You have my word.”
Michael leads Wes out, shooting a hateful look my way. As soon as he disappears, I grip Fitzgerald’s shoulder.
“Watch him,” I warn. “He’s bad news.”
“You leave me to the police work, kid,” Fitzgerald says, a fierce glint in his eyes. “I’m handling things the right way. Don’t you worry.”
All I can do is hope to fuck he knows what he is doing.