Devious Bully - (The Devil's War #1): A High School/Stepbrother Bully Romance Read online

  There. I’ve said it. I’ve finally said the words I’ve been desperate to say for what feels like a lifetime. I thought I’d maybe feel like a weight had been lifted, but if anything, it makes me feel a whole lot worse than I did a few seconds before.

  “Livy, I think you need to quit with the dramatics.” My mom warns on a heated whisper, and she’s obviously no longer in the mood for my words of wisdom. “Dean knows I’ve come from a broken past, but that doesn’t mean he needs to know about Greg.”

  Of course he doesn’t. That would ruin everything for her if her newfound love knew the true extent of her hideous past. I don’t know who Dean is, but I’m already feeling a rush if pity for him. The poor guy probably doesn’t even know what he’s letting himself in for.

  “Don’t worry, mom. Your secrets are always safe with me.” I mean, I have no goddamn friends so who would I even tell them to? “I won’t breathe a word to anyone about how you selfishly used Greg for all he was worth before upping and leaving with nothing but a broken heart to remember you by.”

  An awkward silence swirls in the air around us. I know I’ve spoken out of turn, but there’s only so much one person can handle, and I think I’ve been simmering at boiling point for too long.

  “Oh, Livy, sweetheart. It wasn’t like that at all.” My mom’s voice is much softer now, likes she’s soothing a baby while she tries her damned hardest to throw me off the scent and put my mind at ease. She’s trying to get me back on her side, because when everything else fails, and it will, my mom always needs me by her side. “You’ll understand more when you’re older, but for now you need to trust that what I’m doing is for the best—for both of us.”

  A loud huff escapes me and for once, I actually don’t have the right words to argue with her.

  “You know, everything I have ever done has always been for you. For us, so that we can have a better life.” Her voice is laced with so much conviction I know she’s just trying to reassure herself.

  I could laugh so damn hard right now at the bullshit which is falling so freely from my mom’s mouth. She truly believes every word she’s saying. She might be able to fool everyone else she meets, but I know the truth. My mom loves to look out for number one—she always has.

  I remain quiet, and instead I turn my head and focus all my attention on the window as I watch the world pass us by in a greenish blur as we continue down the highway to only god knows where, and for how long.

  I know that my mom doesn’t do anything for me. But I guess her telling herself that she does allows her evil conscience to sleep better at night.

  I know I can’t change my mom’s actions. All I can do is pray and hope that this Dean guy does in fact turn out to be the real deal and my mom can finally find someone to settle down with, because I am so done with having my world turned upside down every couple of months.

  I am so done with having to start over time and time again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  KANE

  My dad has lost his fucking shit this time.

  Sure, I knew things were bad. But I had no idea things had got this bad. I really don’t know what’s happened to him recently. He’s like a totally different guy, and not for the better. Something needs to change around here and fast.

  Maybe he’s going through a midlife crisis. Maybe he’s just turned into a heartless son of a bitch. Whatever his fucking reasons, I won’t be around to pick up the pieces when he finally comes down from whatever headfuck he’s on and everything blows up in his selfish, arrogant face.

  Why the fuck can’t he see that the two of us are already fine just the way we are? The same way we’ve been for the last two years. Just me and him. The two of us together—against the fucking world. Me and my dad have always been at our best when it’s just the two of us and no outside distractions, and by that I mean the type of distractions, women—desperately trying to take advantage of my dad while he’s still vulnerable.

  However, I’m quickly realizing that my father doesn’t seem to feel the same way as I do.

  Ever since the accident he’s spent all of his waking hours diving headfirst into work, and his dick into an endless stream of more than willing pussy’s. I know this has been some kind of fucked up coping mechanism for my dad. A way to try to deal with his grief and I always tried my damned hardest to turn a blind eye to my dad’s reckless antics. It’s not like any of them were ever serious. I don’t think my dad had ever entertained the same woman more than once after he’d had his use out of them. Until now.

  Sure, I’ve tried to speak to him about it, but he shuts me down time and time again. Obviously, my father doesn’t see an issue with the foolish actions that he’s taking. I guess my father thinks his behavior is perfectly acceptable because all he’s trying to do is numb and mask out the unbearable pain that has consumed him since that night.

  The only problem is, it doesn’t matter how many times he does it, it won’t help. He can stick his dick in a different pussy every damn night for the rest of his life, but it will never change anything. Our life will never be the same again and the sooner he wakes up and realizes that, the better. All this will do is lead him further down the path of destruction until he reaches a point of no return.

  Deep down I’m confident that my father knows none of these women, women who he’s eager to lose himself in are nothing like my mom. She was one of a kind, and nothing and no one will ever be able to replace her. Damn, my chest tightens just thinking about it.

  In the rare times that my father has spoken to me about it, he’s promised me that he’s not trying to replace my mom, yet his actions right now throw all of that bullshit out of the park and tell me a whole other story.

  Losing himself in numerous women must have lost its effectiveness as last night my father, the only parent who I have left to help love and guide me in this life decided to drop the mother of all fucking bombshells on me. Oh, I wish it wasn’t true. Now he’s decided to take it one step further and he’s well and truly crossed the already frayed line between us.

  My father has never been short of female attention and he knows it too. My mom used to laugh about it, but I bet she wouldn’t be laughing now. No, I’m pretty sure my mom would be turning with disgust in her grave right about now.

  Ever since my mom died, he’s been more than happy to reciprocate that attention without so much as a second’s thought about anyone else and I’m fucking done with it. He’s turned into a selfish and reckless son of a bitch. Someone I never imagined my father; my superhero would become.

  And this shit storm is getting worse by the day because now he’s only gone and found the one. The perfect woman to help him with his grief and turn him into a better man, or so he believes.

  It won’t last. I know this woman won’t last more than five seconds with my dad, they never do. This new whore will never fill the void in my father’s heart, no matter how much he wants to fool himself into thinking she will, because the bottom line is, she isn’t my mom. I don’t give a damn what she’s like either. This woman could be the kindest soul left on this earth and I still wouldn’t have time for her. No one, and I mean no one will ever be able to come to my house and try to take on the role of my mom, and that’s something I won’t be afraid to remind her of every time she feels brave enough to look at me.

  I couldn’t believe it when my dad pulled me to one side last night. I should have known something was up, because conversations with my dad are pretty much a rarity these days. Nothing could have prepared me for what he had to tell me, and even when I think about it now it fills me with so much anger my body trembles.

  “I know this might come as shock to you son, but I’ve been seeing someone.” He muttered to me as he sat down on the sofa and I remember how all the color left his face. Good, I’m glad he felt uncomfortable telling me this, and so he should. My dad has made me feel uncomfortable with his dirty little antics, yet I’m the one who’s had to sit back and allow them to unfold. After all, I’m just
the kid so it doesn’t really matter what I think or what I want right now.

  “Dad, I’ve told you. You do what you have to do to get by but leave me out of it.” I shrug back at him, not in the mood to hear about his latest hook-up. I might turn a blind eye, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t bother me or the memory of my mother.

  “This time it kind of affects you, son.”

  “What do you mean?” I heard my voice break as my father’s black eyes burned into mine and for a moment, I could see a flicker of pity, but it was gone as soon as it had arrived, his selfish arrogance etched firmly back on his face.

  “She’s called Trisha…” the words fall from his tongue like it’s the most natural thing in the whole damn world. Maybe for him it is, but for me this is all kinds of fucked up. The fact that this one even has a name should have set alarm bells sounding in my ears.

  “Awesome.” I refused to look at the man who was supposed to be my superhero. I guess that image died right alongside mom. “I’m going to bed. I’ve got practice tomorrow and I need the rest.” My father didn’t even blink.

  There was a time when he used to be so invested in my football. He’d rush home to ask all about it and he would sit down at the table and listen to me rambling on, probably repeating the same things over and over again for hours, but he never minded. He entertained my passion with so much enthusiasm. He used to be there for me for everything. And now, it’s like I don’t even know him anymore. The unbreakable bond I thought we had snapped and unraveled beyond repair the second my mom breathed her last.

  I totally understand that my dad lost a part of himself that day, but so did I. And even though I’m the last remaining piece of my mom he has left, it no longer feels like it’s enough.

  “I thought you should know Trisha is moving in with us.” My world and everything I know crumbles at his words. What the fuck did he just say? Is he really willing to move some woman, some nobody, some fucking whore into my mom’s house and expect me to be okay with that? I don’t fucking think so.

  “What?” I say on a sharp breath, and I feel like tiny shards of glass are stabbing at my heart. How can a man I used to admire so damn much become so cold and cruel? How the fuck can he not see how wrong this is?

  “I said Trisha will be moving in with us tomorrow.” His voice was firm, telling me that his decision was non-negotiable.

  “Yeah, I heard what you said. But what the fuck do you expect me to do with that?” I hurled back at him, not giving a damn if he thinks I’m being disrespectful. He’s being disrespectful and if it’s good enough for him then it’s sure as hell good enough for me. I seriously don’t know what he expects from me. I mean, there’s no fucking way I’m going to be the type of guy to just stand back and allow another woman, no matter who the fuck she is, or no matter how much she seems to mean to my dad to just casually rock up and move into my mom’s home and try to make it her own.

  No fucking way.

  It’s downright wrong and fucking disrespectful to my mom’s memory. And I guess if my dad can’t see that because he’s too busy thinking about getting his dick wet then that says more about him than I’ll ever be able to.

  It kind of feels like a lifetime ago, but my father never used to be such a self-centered jerk. I know my mom’s sudden and untimely death changed him. He practically became an empty shell of his former vibrant self. But he needs to remember that it’s not just about him. My mom’s death changed everything—including me.

  I was forced to grow up before my time. I learned what real pain was and I wouldn’t wish that kind of anguish on anyone. To be honest, my anger and resentment is something I’m still trying to work on, but all I can do is take it day by day and go wherever it takes me.

  “Kane…”

  My head snaps up at the voice calling my name and in turn pulls my weary head out of my thoughts. I look over to the figure coming closer to me and drag my tired hand along my clenched jaw, hoping to loosen some of the tension that’s building there while trying to shut down my overly active mind. “Where the fuck have you been, bro?”

  I grin at Ryder, my best friend—my right-hand man through thick and thin, as he stalks towards me, his unnaturally large legs taking double the stride of an average person. Something’s up, I can tell instantly when I see a fierce scowl on his face instead of his usual pretty boy carefree expression. Man, I don’t know what’s happened, but he looks majorly pissed.

  Welcome to the fucking club. I think to myself.

  “What’s with the face?” I ask as I push myself up and step towards him. When I take a closer look at him I can she he’s a whole lot more pissed than I first thought. His dark brows are furrowed together and a sudden sense of unease rushes through me. And angry Ryder is never a good omen. It takes a whole load of bullshit to get him pissed like this.

  “So, you haven’t heard then?” His eyes narrow as his jaw clenches tighter than Taylor’s fucking pussy. I swear, one day soon that so called girlfriend of mine better start putting out before I go looking for some other chick to fuck. My balls are bluer than Pornhub right now and I’m ready to fucking burst. There’s only so much a hand can do. But I guess it seems that’s just another thing I’m gonna have to throw onto the back burner for now.

  Ryder watches me expectantly and I shake my head at him, as confusion ripples through my tired and beat body. “Heard what?” I try my best to coax him into opening his fucking mouth.

  “Shit, man.” He sighs, and he sounds like he’s got the whole weight of the world on his shoulders. “I really didn’t want to be the one to tell you. I thought you would have heard already.”

  “Cut the bullshit,” I demand. Usually, I’d be all ears but today isn’t the day to be playing games with me. I’ve enough crap to deal with at home without Ryder starting to throw me riddles too.

  “It’s Rodriguez.” Ryder mutters, and just like that he has my full fucking attention. All thoughts of my future stepmother have been pushed to the back of my mind. Sure, it’s just a name. One fucking word but it sets my whole body on edge. Ryder knows this all too well and I can sense him watching me closely as a red haze glazes over my vision.

  A deadly silence descends around us, and the rest of the noise in the parking lot is drowned out by the loud thud of my beating heart. “What about him?”

  “Looks like he’s up to his old tricks again.”

  “Oh yeah?” I try to act all calm and collected, but internally I’m resisting the urge to hit something—hard. “What’s that motherfucker been up to now?” I don’t really want to know, but it must be important if Ryder felt that I needed to know about it. After all, Rodriguez Marquell is a little fuck who I’ve never had time for. It’s no secret that the two of us hate each other. That’s hereditary. A strong hate which has been passed down from our fathers.

  Many moons ago, not long after me and Rodriguez has started high school, our parents had been the best of friends. They were practically brothers. One was never seen without the other. Then as if overnight something had changed. No one knows what, but something major must have happened to cause so much hate and anger towards each other. I’ve tried to ask my father many times what caused such a rift between them, but he refuses point blank to discuss it. One thing I do know is that from the moment they separated, they became sworn enemies, and his name or anything to do with the Marquell family was forever banned from being spoken about in our house.

  It was a war between the Egan’s and the Marquell’s.

  Rodriguez is fully aware of that fact too. He knows as little as me, but he sure as hell knows there’s bad blood between our families, and I guess that only adds fuel to the fire. Rodriguez has been after some kind of reaction from me for as long as I can remember, but I’ve always been big and wise enough to ignore his childish actions. That stupid motherfucker is desperate to trigger the grenade—to start off the war that’s bound to erupt around us eventually.

  Sure, I’ve been tempted to teach him a lesson or t
wo over the years, but I’ve always managed to keep my distance. Even when he’s tried to throw endless amounts of bullshit my way. I know I’m the bigger and better guy here and he’s never liked it. Manorcroft is my playground, and he doesn’t like to be left out of anything, like the silly, jealous boy he’s always been. That’s always been his problem. Whatever I’ve had or done, he’s always been looking on from the distance, green with envy, wishing my life was his.

  I can only imagine what kind of bullshit his father has drilled into his head, but that has nothing to do with me. I have my own battles to face, without Rodriguez adding to the fucking storm. I’ll admit that he kept his distance after my mom passed, but I’m guessing he feels like that grace period is now over.

  “You’re not gonna like this…” Ryder warns me.

  “I don’t like anything associated to Rodriguez. I thought that was a given?” Just saying his name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue, and my body trembles some more as the adrenaline starts to course through my heated veins.

  “It’s really not good…” Ryder whistles and I can quickly feel myself losing what little patience I have left. His eyes fall to the floor and I can tell he really doesn’t want to be the one to bring whatever information this he has to my attention. It’s like he’s praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

  “For fucks sake, Ryder. Hurry the fuck up and tell me what he’s gone and done now.” The anger bubbling inside me intensifies some more and now all I want to do is find someone to take my issues out on and cause them just a fraction of the pain that I’m currently feeling.

  Obviously, Rodriguez has some kind of death wish if he’s trying to step on my patch. That motherfucker should be wise enough to stay the hell away from me and Manorcroft. I mean, there’s a fucking river between us. It’s not like we’re neighbors.