Defiant: A High School Bully Romance (Midpark High Book 2) Read online

  Defiant

  Midpark High: Book 2

  Candace Wondrak

  © 2020 Candace Wondrak

  All Rights Reserved.

  Book cover by Fionn Jameson at Milktee Studios Cover Designs

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  Books by Candace Wondrak are only available at Amazon. If you are reading elsewhere, please note it is an illegal, pirated copy, uploaded without my permission. I, the author, nor the distributor received payment for the copy, and if prosecuted violation comes with a fine of up to $250,000. Please do not pirate books.

  Chapter One – Jaz

  Chapter Two – Dante

  Chapter Three – Archer

  Chapter Four – Jaz

  Chapter Five – Vaughn

  Chapter Six – Jaz

  Chapter Seven – Jacob

  Chapter Eight – Jaz

  Chapter Nine – Jaz

  Chapter Ten – Jacob

  Chapter Eleven – Jaz

  Chapter Twelve – Jaz

  Chapter Thirteen – Vaughn

  Chapter Fourteen – Jaz

  Chapter Fifteen – Dante

  Chapter Sixteen – Jaz

  Chapter Seventeen – Archer

  Chapter Eighteen – Jacob

  Chapter Nineteen – Jaz

  Chapter Twenty – Vaughn

  Chapter Twenty-One – Jaz

  Chapter Twenty-Two – Jaz

  Chapter Twenty-Three – Jaz

  Chapter Twenty-Four – Archer

  Chapter Twenty-Five – Jaz

  Chapter Twenty-Six – Dante

  Chapter Twenty-Seven – Vaughn

  Chapter Twenty-Eight – Jaz

  Chapter One – Jaz

  Now, I know what you’re thinking: I tend to make a lot of mistakes. Would I ever learn from them? The answer, unfortunately for me, was probably not.

  Bull-headed, rash, stubborn beyond all belief. When I found something to obsess over, something I believed was right, I couldn’t let it go. I kept digging even if I didn’t like the direction my hole went. I was the kind of kid who, when hurt, kept picking at the scabs and reopening the wounds. It’s just how I was.

  Getting onto a stranger’s motorcycle in the brisk air of a Midpark winter’s day? Not my best decision, but it would take some time before I knew whether it beat my decision to go to that party with Archer.

  Yeah, you know what? I was still pissed about that. The more I thought about what happened—what could’ve happened, if Jacob hall, my private investigator, hadn’t stepped in and saved me—the more infuriated I grew.

  I could’ve been raped—by every person at that party. They could’ve taken pictures of me and spread it around the internet. Those rich kids…Brittany and her crew—oh, I’d make sure they got theirs. This was not something I could just blink and let go; it would fester inside of me until I broke those rich kids.

  It would be hard. I was under no illusions there. To beat those cruel kids, I’d have to learn to play the game their way, but I didn’t care. I’d do whatever I had to.

  First thing was first, though. I had to get out of my current predicament.

  The last thing I’d expected this morning as Mom dropped me off at school was to be approached by some leather-wearing, tattooed stranger who radiated danger. I supposed I could’ve made a scene, could’ve done something—there were cameras aplenty outside—but when he said he knew where my mom was, that she was alone in that big house all day…

  What could I have done? I couldn’t put my mom in danger. She was…she was all I had left, really. Even if my dad was alive out there, even if I found out who he was, it wouldn’t change the fact that my mom and I were as close as a mother and daughter could be. We’d been together for the last eighteen years, surviving in this cold, harsh world, and I didn’t want anything to tear us apart.

  Or see her hurt by a maniac with a tattoo wrapping around the sides of his shaven head.

  I wasn’t stupid. I knew I put myself in danger by going with this guy, but what else could I do?

  I currently sat behind him on his bike, my arms wrapped around his stomach. My long black hair whipped around behind me in the cold wind, and I buried my face against the back of his leather jacket to block out as much wind as I could. The body I held onto was relaxed, as if he threatened people to go with him every day of his life.

  It was also a muscular body, beneath the leather, but I wasn’t going to focus on that.

  We all knew what happened the last time I let myself swoon over a body, and the handsome face attached to it. Archer…I still couldn’t believe he played me like that. The whole time I’d fallen over my feet, blushed and daydreamed, about a guy with a girlfriend. I mean, who the hell did that? That was just wrong. It was disgusting and rude and cruel all at the same time. Even if he crawled to me on his knees and begged forgiveness—which I knew he never would—the only thing I’d do was laugh.

  Laugh because there would be no forgiveness where I was concerned. Laugh because I planned on making him just as miserable as I was going to make Brittany.

  Someone had spiked my drink at that party, so just to be safe, I was going to make every single one of them pay.

  You know, if this guy didn’t stab me twenty times and toss my body into a ditch somewhere, first.

  The ride wasn’t too long, which surprised me. Not even twenty minutes later, he pulled us off the road and into a parking lot of a hotel. We were on the outskirts of Midpark, therefore the hotel looked like it was on the lower side of fancy. A two-story place, where he apparently already had a room paid for, for the minute he turned off his bike and kicked the stand out, he was dragging me to a room on the second floor.

  We passed not another soul; whoever was working the front desk wasn’t there, so no one saw how rough this guy handled me. His fingers curled around my wrist too tightly, but I was too wound up to feel the pain.

  I mean, if I was going to die here, get wrapped up in half a dozen trash bags and tossed out into the dumpster in the back, why bother being afraid? What good would it do me? A stupid way to look at it, but with everything going on in my life, that’s how I chose to view it.

  With one hand on my wrist, the leather-clad guy stopped before a door, reaching into his pocket with his free hand to bring out the room key. Once we were inside, he pushed me in, finally letting me go. I stumbled a bit, but the moment I caught myself, I whirled on him, my intent to question him—but then I saw the unmade bed, the sheets, and I quieted.

  Please don’t tell me I made it out of Friday’s party unscathed only to end up here, being taken advantage of while I was awake and in my right mind enough to live through it…

  Shit. It never even occurred to me: this guy could work for one of the Midpark brats, to use Jacob’s description of them. He could be a hired goon.

  I swallowed when he shut the door behind him, leaning his back on it, his blue eyes startlingly intense, their color as clear and as vibrant as the waters in the Caribbean. Beautiful eyes set in a face that could kill. The sides of his head were shaved short, revealing the thick tribal tattoo curling up his spine and around his skull, while the top of his head held a few inches of brown hair, messy and unkempt thanks to the bike ride. He didn’t look too much older than me, but age didn’t matter when you were dealing with the rich.

  He cocked his head, a slow smirk spreading on his face. Even though my heart wa
s already beating a million times a minute, that smirk made it beat faster. “Jazmine Smith,” he spoke, his voice low, rough, and scratchy. Kind of like his appearance.

  Never had I seen someone wear a leather jacket so well.

  “It’s Jaz,” I said, my hands tightening around my backpack’s straps over my shoulders as I remembered the knife in his jacket. He could pull that shiny, sharp thing on me, and then it would all be over.

  A bad way to go. I wasn’t ready.

  The smirk broke into a full-fledged smile, and he threw the deadbolt in the lock, along with the chain before moving away from the door, grinning as he repeated, “Jaz. I like it. I’m Dante, but you can call me Storm if you want.”

  Storm? Why the hell would I call him Storm? Was that his last name, or some kind of nickname he’d given himself to sound tougher? Either way, he didn’t need to be called Storm. Danger oozed from every pore on his body without the need for a nickname like that.

  My heart felt like popping out of my chest and running away, especially when he neared me. I found myself taking a few steps back as I asked him, not for the first time, “How do you know who I am? Did someone hire you?” If only I had the money to combat the Midpark brats’ wealth…

  “I’ve known who you are for a while,” he said, still taking more steps toward me.

  I really wished he wouldn’t, because I’d managed to back myself up against the wall, my legs awkwardly bent over the window air unit. I scooted to the side, getting myself off it, but I only ended up backing myself into the deepest corner in the room, between the outer wall and the bed.

  “No one hired me,” he added, his blue gaze dropping to my feet, slowly traveling up my entire body, as if I was naked and on display—as if he had every right in the world to check me out so unabashedly. “I came of my own volition, and it’s a good thing I did. You don’t belong in Midpark, Jaz.”

  How the hell could this guy tell me, with a straight face, after kidnapping me, that I didn’t belong in Midpark? Who was he? The way he stared at me, like I should know him, gave me pause.

  He was insane. He had to be. That was that.

  I let out a short chuckle, though the sound died in the back of my throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I really need to get back to school.” First period had already started, which meant I was late. Had revenge to get to, you know. Couldn’t waste time like this.

  Just by looking at him, I knew Dante didn’t care about wasting time.

  “Come on,” he said, inching toward me. I had nowhere to go; I was effectively stuck against the corner, my fingers gripping the straps on my backpack so hard my knuckles turned white. “We both know that’s a lie. I could tell just by watching, you don’t belong there. Not in that school, not with those people, and not in that big house.”

  “How do you know so much about me? Who are you?”

  Again, he smirked. “I’ve been watching you a long time. It was hard to find you after you moved, but…” Dante shrugged, and I realized his shoulders were even wider than they looked, now that they practically blocked out the entire room from me. “I managed. I’ll always find you.”

  The way he talked, it was like he knew me—but he didn’t. I’d never seen him before in my life, and surely I’d remember a walking bad boy with a tattoo on his skull.

  “I don’t know you,” I whispered, my breath hitching when he stepped even closer. Less than two feet between us now; he was way too close. So close I could hardly breathe. This guy definitely did not understand personal boundaries; if the situation was different, maybe I wouldn’t mind so much.

  He was…not terrible to look at, but now was not the time to lose myself in the attractiveness of this stranger.

  He’d threatened my mom, after all. That was not something I could forget.

  “Maybe not,” he admitted. “But you will. You’re eighteen now, so you should choose where you want to be. In Midpark, with those rich, spoiled fuckers, or where you belong—with me.”

  I didn’t…what the hell was he going on about? I’d never met him before in my life. If this was some freaky way of asking me out, he had another thing coming. I…I didn’t even know what to say, at this point. Speechless, I was frigging speechless.

  “Again,” I said, meeting those intense, azure eyes, “I don’t know you.”

  “Maybe right now you don’t,” Dante murmured, taking yet another step closer to me, the distance between us mere inches, now. “But you will.” Beneath his smirk, his teeth were white and straight, a devil’s smile through and through. Any girl with a thing for the tall, dark, and handsome guys would feel a warming in their lower gut when Dante was so close.

  That’s what I told myself, anyway, to make me feel better for the blossoming heat in my belly.

  “We can get to know each other better right now,” he whispered.

  I blinked, my cheeks heating up to match what was going on under the waist. Was Dante propositioning me? Was this…was this really happening? Did I hit my head and knock myself out when I wasn’t looking? I had no idea what to say or how to respond without risking him pulling that knife on me—

  Wait a minute. The knife.

  It was in his inner coat pocket. I could pull it out, if he was distracted, use it on him to get away.

  As much as there was that could go wrong, it was the only plan I had. There was no way I could outright beat this guy without hurting him a bit. If I wanted to make those rich brats at Midpark High pay, I had to learn to do what was necessary—and right now that included putting on a mask and playing the game to get close to that knife.

  I figured it’d be better to put up a bit of a fight; it’d look too strange if I gave in so quickly. I bit my bottom lip, watching as his eyes fell to my mouth, and I whispered, “But I just met you.” It’s what I should’ve told myself before hooking up with Archer, but I’d been stupid. Beyond foolish. Hooking up with anyone in Midpark was bound to have consequences.

  I just didn’t realize exactly what those consequences were until last Friday.

  “That’s the best time,” he said. “No built-up expectations, no strings.” He tilted his head, checking me out yet again. “I could make you forget all about every other dude with a dick that’s been near you—and that’s a Storm promise.”

  Oh, God. Was he going to constantly refer to himself as Storm? Was he one of those weirdos? Maybe I should rethink this seducing plan…

  No, I had no other plan. This was it.

  “So why don’t you drop that backpack and we’ll move this getting-to-know-you session to the bed?” Dante suggested.

  Was this how he treated every girl he kidnapped? I assumed I wasn’t the only one. Actually sleeping with him would be a mistake—if all went well, it wouldn’t get that far. All I needed was the knife.

  If I had to kill him to get away…well, then I guessed I would. There were videos at the high school that would show him blocking my path to the doors, forcing me to go with him. I was certain he had some kind of criminal record—who the hell got head tattoos, anyway? The law would side with me, and if it didn’t, I was sure I could use Ollie as my lawyer if I asked nicely.

  Not that I had anything to pay him with, besides the money under my mattress, but whatever. I’d get to it if and when I got to it.

  I took a step away from the wall, my chest grazing his as I muttered, “I don’t know…”

  Dante reached for the straps, helping to slide them off. My backpack fell to the floor with a thud, and I was about to reach into his jacket to take out the knife when he took a step back, grabbed my wrist, and spun me away from the wall, pinning me to the bed in the next moment.

  Wow. He worked fast.

  And—I realized as he pressed his midsection down on me—he was already getting hard.

  I could feel the knife’s solid steel pressing against me between us, and I knew I couldn’t grab it as we were positioned now. I had to get him to not pin me down as hard, maybe even get on top.
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br />   “This is…a little fast, isn’t it?” I breathed out, but he had a retort ready.

  “Jaz, if there’s one thing to know about me, it’s that I like it fast,” Dante whispered, his entire body pinning mine down on the bed. His hands moved to hold my neck, one of them squeezing just a bit too hard. “I like it fast, and I like it dirty.”

  My mind went places after that, but all thoughts in my head vanished the moment he pressed his hungry lips down on mine.

  I’d never kissed a stranger before. Well, I’d kissed Archer, who was pretty much like a stranger since he’d hidden the truth from me the entire time, but that was different. I’d at least spoken to him on multiple occasions before.

  Dante? I literally just met the guy, and he was already pressing his boner against me, his mouth ravaging mine as if he couldn’t get enough.

  Really. He was. I was not exaggerating there.

  The way Dante kissed…it was new. It was hard and fast, urgent and heated, igniting sparks within me even though he was a stranger. My body immediately reacted to his, my lips kissing him back even though I knew I had to remain in my right mind to pull this off.

  Problem was, it was damned near impossible to be in my right mind when this guy kissed me like he wanted to pull the breath from my lungs, the power of a thousand suns behind each tug and push of his lips.

  With how hard he pushed down on me with every inch of his body, I knew I needed to flip our positions.

  When he bit my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from my body—my stupid, stupid body that was clearly not on the same page as my mind—I set my hands on his shoulders and pushed. His shoulders were the only thing I could get ahold of, but it worked.

  I rolled Dante onto his back, straddling him. He seemed surprised at my sudden display of dominance, his eyes heavy-lidded as he watched me. “Well,” he murmured, looking a lot less dangerous as he stared up at me with his head resting on a fluffy white pillow, “look at you, taking charge. All right, I’ll let you, but only this once.”