Her Spite: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (The Forgotten Elites Book 2)

  Her Spite

  The Forgotten Elites Book Two

  Eden Beck

  Her Spite by Eden Beck

  © 2021 Eden Beck

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of including brief passages for use in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  For permissions contact:

  authoredenbeck@gmail.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  A Note From The Author

  Also by Eden Beck

  Chapter One

  Never in a million years would I think I’d be itching to get back to Ridgecrest classes.

  But here I am.

  Spending a week alone on campus will do that to you, especially when the alternative is … well, there is no alternative. Not now that I’ve basically been disowned.

  No, not basically.

  Have been disowned.

  I thought it was bad enough getting caught kissing Ben Haverdy, the teacher’s aide at Sisters of Virtue Catholic school. After all, that is why I was sent to Ridgecrest’s gap-year program in the first place. A school full of delinquents sent here for teenage pregnancies, selling drugs, and worse—and I’m here for a single kiss.

  Well, now two.

  Coming to Ridgecrest wasn’t my choice, but staying here is. And for that, I’m paying the price.

  Spending the last week essentially all alone on campus hasn’t been great—to say the least. But now that my parents won’t so much as reply to an email from me, I have nowhere else to go, no way to get there, and basically no money.

  Aside from the small bit of cash that I’d been smart enough to withdraw from the bank before my parents closed my account—a crazy early Christmas gift to me—I don’t have much else besides the few personal belongings in my room.

  At least it’s something—definitely not enough to be able to go anywhere though.

  Just enough to make sure I’ll be able to eat when the Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks come around … but don’t even get me started on what I’m supposed to do afterward. I can’t even begin to think about that. Part of me still thinks there’s no way my parents can really disown me forever.

  And then the other part of me knows better.

  The part of me that knows them.

  Like everything else, my parents controlled … control all of my money and finances. As soon as they decided to renounce me, they locked my bank account and I lost access to any sort of financial support that I used to have. Not that it was ever much, they kept me on such a short leash … and certainly nothing compared to what most of the Ridgecrest kids have.

  I can’t imagine Bridget in my position. She would die.

  And that’s not an exaggeration. I think she would literally just drop dead from the indignity of it all.

  But for me, it’s fine—really. A small price to pay for my freedom.

  Freedom that should not have come at such a steep price. If only—

  If only one person would believe me for once. Just one.

  But those are thoughts that lead to nowhere but a dark spiral, and if I’m going to make it through the next few months here at Ridgecrest—hell, if I’m going to make it through the next few weeks—I’m going to have to be stronger than that.

  I have more to contend with now than just my own broke bank account.

  And those things have names.

  Warren.

  Chase.

  Sterling.

  And, of course … eventually, Bridget too.

  Things are definitely going to get a lot more exciting around campus now.

  Being tossed aside by parents is surprisingly freeing; and since I no longer have to fight against the idea of me being the heathen that everyone here is trying to make me out to be … there’s literally nothing to be afraid of anymore. I’m in charge of how things play out now, and if my last little chat with Bridget is any indicator, I’m pretty sure that she and the guys aren’t going to like the way that I run the game.

  Not now that I’m in charge.

  The tables have turned, and I plan to use them to my full advantage.

  It’s the only advantage I have, after all.

  I used the break alone to figure out how I was best going to leverage the blackmail that I have over Bridget. I don’t know all the details of what happened, but I know enough to put Bridget right where I want her.

  I know that somewhere there’s a baby that belongs to her. Where the child is, or who the father is … those are less important details. The biggest advantage I have is that I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows about the babe, besides Bridget and her parents.

  I don’t even think that Warren knows about it, which might be the most powerful piece of the … information … I hold over her. I can only imagine how hurt and betrayed her twin brother would feel if he ever found out that his sister was keeping something as important as a baby from him.

  In fact, I like to imagine that a lot.

  But that might be because even in my mind, Warren is more than a little soft on the eyes.

  Stop it, slut. I’ve already had enough trouble with boys. For once, for just one semester, I’d like to try to keep their hands off of me—and the rumors away from my already shattered reputation.

  There’s no way that Bridget will chance Warren finding out about it, or any of the other guys, or her friends for that matter. Which makes this the absolute perfect scandal to keep Bridget under my control.

  Just where I like her.

  Just where she held me for weeks this last semester.

  I know it’s wrong, that the way I’m feeling should probably be closely examined by a trauma therapist or something, but by the time school starts up again—I’m positively giddy to see Bridget arrive back on campus.

  It’s a feeling I never imagined I’d have before.

  I spot her coming around the walkway outside the dorms and immediately head over to intercept her before she can get any ideas of her own about how this semester is going to play out. I can tell by the terrified look on her face that she knows I’m prepared to use her secret against her, without reservation, to get what I want.

  Fear. Now that’s a look I never thought I’d see on Bridget’s face.

  She quickens her pace and tries to duck into the housing office before I can reach her, but unfortunately for her—I’m fast.

  “Hey,” I say as I grab her sleeve and tug her toward me just before her hand reaches the doorhandle.

  “What do you want?” she asks as she longingly eyes the inside of th
e office through the glass.

  “Oh, lots of things,” I say with a growing smirk. “But we’ll start with a roommate.”

  I’ll miss rooming with Alaska, but I’ve had plenty of time to think about this. Bridget is resilient. The only want to keep her in check is to keep a constant eye on her.

  An eye that now narrows at her as she rolls her own.

  Bridget opens her mouth to retaliate, but I beat her to it.

  “And before you try to say it’s not possible, I’ve already made the arrangements.” After all, I’ve had all break here alone to tie up loose ends.

  “Fine,” she says as she turns away from the office door. “We’ll be roomies … happy?”

  Not yet. I’m just getting started with all of this.

  I herd her away from the door to the admin office and back toward Mason House. She keeps to the edge of the sidewalk, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. I, in turn, keep moving closer until she’s nearly stumbling over into the grass just to stay away from me.

  Eventually, elbows brushing, she lets out a dramatic sigh and snaps her neck to the side to look at me.

  “What did you do to your hair?” she asks with a condescending voice, as her eyes rake over me from top to bottom. “You looked weird before, but now you just look downright trashy.”

  I can’t help but laugh. Nothing Bridget says to insult me upsets me anymore.

  “I decided to go for a new look,” I say, stopping for a second to toss my hair over one shoulder. “Though it’s hardly new. You’re losing your grip, Bridget, if it took you this long to notice.”

  Her jaw works silently for a moment, a flicker of emotions playing like a movie across her face.

  “Well, just because I don’t pay attention to every boring girl here at school doesn’t mean I’m ‘losing my grip,’” she growls. “But, let me be the first to tell you that it doesn’t work for you. I mean, are you trying to live up to your slutty reputation?”

  “Boring?” I say, cocking my head as I look back at her with a maddeningly contrite look on my own face. “No. But slut?”

  And here, I grin.

  “Actually, yes.”

  Even Bridget has nothing to say to that.

  I walk with Bridget to our new shared dorm room and watch as she indignantly settles into the room. I’m guessing that she’s going to try to spend as little time as possible in here with me, but that’s fine. I know that I can make her come running whenever I want her to.

  Besides, she’s only been back a few minutes and I’m already exhausted. Not that I’d ever admit that to her.

  It does make me wonder though, how does she keep up the energy to act this way all the time?

  “Don’t you have anything else to do?” she huffs when she sees me just sitting on the bed and watching her unpack. “Wait, never mind. I forgot that you don’t have any friends. Well, except for those two losers that you hung out with last semester. Are they still around or did they bail on you too?”

  Ouch. Word must have already got around that my parents disowned me—as word around here does—and I know that Bridget is happy to have something that she thinks she can torment me with.

  Unfortunately for her, I couldn’t care less.

  “If you’re referring to Alaska and Clark, then yeah, they’re still my friends. But I’m also in the market to make some new friends this semester. I think that’s something that you’re going to be able to help me with.”

  She pauses again.

  She knows exactly what I mean, if the look on her face is anything to go by.

  It’s a look that says I wish you would drop dead.

  “Fine. What do you want me to do?” Bridget asks with a sigh. She stops unpacking and plops down on her bed in an overly exaggerated motion to show me just how much I’m inconveniencing her life.

  We sit facing each other as she stares at me and waits for me to give her first directive. I need to be smart about how I go about this. If Bridget suddenly starts acting differently in front of everyone, then her friends are going to know that something’s up. I might be able to force Bridget to be my friend, but one thing I can’t do is force her friends to buy into it.

  Warren, Chase, and Sterling are already going to have a hard enough time transitioning into this new normal. I know I have, and I’m the one pulling the strings.

  But they aren’t the friends I’m concerned with first.

  Before I can thoroughly start ruining their lives too, I have to infiltrate the group. Fully.

  And that starts with Bridget’s other friends. The ones that surround her. The ones that support her.

  This part of my plan has to be finely orchestrated so that they do it on their own. It has to be believable, and for it to be believable, Bridget can’t be put into a position lower than the one she put me in last semester. At least, not at first. I need to tread lightly.

  “I want you to introduce me to your friends again,” I say.

  “That’s stupid,” she huffs. “They already know who you are, and they don’t like you.”

  “They know who you told them I was, and they don’t like me because you don’t like me.”

  “I mean …” This time, she’s the one who smirks. “You’re not wrong.”

  “So, now you can convince them that they should stop tormenting me,” I say. “They’ll take your lead. Unless, of course, you’ve lost your touch as well as your grip.”

  “God, you’re so weird,” she says as she rolls her eyes again. “You don’t even talk like a normal person. And that’s easier said than done. You do know that, right?”

  She holds up one hand and snaps her fingers, loudly. “I can’t just snap my fingers and make everyone like you all of a sudden.”

  “I don’t care if it’s easy or not,” I say, leaning closer, “just make sure it happens.”

  “And then what?” she asks.

  “I’ll let you know,” I say with a smile as I get up off the bed.

  I know that it drives her crazy not knowing what my next move is going to be—good. I like to imagine Bridget in a state of nervousness. It serves her right for all of the anguish that she’s caused me. I kind of feel like changing my name to Karma and calling it a day.

  But Karma is a bitch.

  And me … I’m going to be much worse than that.

  Chapter Two

  I might be leaning into my new persona hard, but there are two people here that still see me the same as always.

  And for them, I am eternally grateful.

  Even when their jaws practically unhinge at the sight of me the next morning.

  My attitude isn’t the only thing that’s changed. Bridget might have used the word trashy as an insult, but I have every intention of using that to my advantage.

  The next morning my first class is with Alaska and Clark and I’m glad to see them again after the break. It might only have been a week long, but it feels like a century ago.

  A whole different life ago.

  Because, in a way, it is.

  And not only because they both look a little shocked at my new look. Aside from rolling my skirt up shorter, unbuttoning my shirt by a few buttons, and wearing my hair down in an unkempt mane around my face that looks like I’ve just sexed up the entire football team—not too much else has changed. A bunch of our classmates are still whispering rumors that I can hear above the teacher’s droning lecture and giving me the cold shoulder, but pretty soon that should stop.

  Rumors get old once they’re not just rumors anymore.

  “Doesn’t it bother you that everyone is still talking about you behind your back?” Alaska asks when I don’t seem to be paying any attention to it.

  “Nah,” I say.

  She just glances once over her shoulder to give someone a death glare for a moment before turning back, shaking her head.

  “You’re a stronger person than I am,” Clark chimes in. “It would make me completely unsettled. I don’t know how you can concentrate
on the lecture with all this … this noise.”

  “Just wait,” I say cryptically, “things are about to change.”

  They both look at me with perplexed expressions on their faces, but slowly, I watch the two of them shift.

  Alaska leans a bit closer. “So … still not telling us your plan?”

  I keep my head facing forward, but a small smile creeps at the corner of my mouth. “Not a word.”

  She sits back with a small huff, but I think I see the spark return to her eye out of the corner of my own.

  We’ll see how long that lasts once she figures out part of my plan means we’re all going to have to spend a little more quality time with the Queen Bitch herself.

  Starting, to everyone’s surprise, with an open invitation to one of Bridget’s famous parties at lunch—delivered, by hand, by none other than the queen herself.

  There’s a moment when I’ve sat down with Alaska and Clark at the table when I begin to feel a brief moment of self-doubt. As much as I hold my head high and keep tugging down my shirt to keep my cleavage as visible as possible—all part of my act that secretly makes me cringe a little deep down—I still feel the same inside.

  I still am the same inside.

  I just … I can’t bring myself to roll over and allow myself to be bullied anymore. Not for long, anyway.

  Not when I see the looks on Bridget’s friends’ faces when she walks stony-faced past them to drop the gold-trimmed invitation on the table in front of me. Her mouth contorts into a smile—convincing from far away, but up close, it’s something closer to grimace—as she loudly announces she’s “dying to see me there.”

  Voices drop for a moment as stunned faces turn to look our way, their eyes raking over me first and then Bridget, surely wondering what changed over break. Because before break, Bridget seemed to be doing everything in her power to ruin my reputation.