Dirty Revenge: A High School Bully Romance (Hawthorne Holy Trinity Book 3) Read online

  Only one of them belongs to someone I really got to know, even if it was just for a little while.

  Alisha Kane.

  Her coffin is white, and it’s covered in small pink roses. She and I didn’t really get along most of the time, but it breaks my heart to see it there. She might’ve been one of Victoria’s lackeys … but she couldn’t help that her best friend is a cold-hearted, manipulative witch.

  I don’t know how I know it, but she was supposed to go to UCLA in the fall. It was all for show since he wanted to get into modeling and film. I think she’d have made it too, if she hadn’t been killed.

  The irony of it all hits me hard. Alisha spent her entire time at high school following Victoria around like a groupie, doing her bidding and maintaining a place at Victoria’s elbow as part of her small entourage. All that only to lose her life because that same self-dubbed Queen of the school was so hell-bent on bringing me down.

  Alisha’s father is standing at the foot of her coffin when I walk in, his hands pushed deep into his pants pockets and his head hung down to his chest. Her mother is half-draped over the blanket of pink roses, sobbing uncontrollably.

  To the side of Alisha’s coffin, about ten feet away, is Chris Hardy’s coffin.

  Even in death, Chris is as shallow as ever—with nothing to remember him by except for the name of his favorite rugby team. His coffin is black and covered in all sorts of things bearing the logo and name of the team, like some off-putting shrine.

  His parents are sitting in the front row directly before his coffin, staring at it, still as statues. On the other side of Chris’ coffin is Drake Gordon’s coffin. It’s a beautiful, polished cherry wood, and there’s only a small arrangement of white roses in the middle. His father is sitting alone nearby, looking down at his hands in his lap. Chris Hardy and Drake Gordon are two of Astor’s follower-friends.

  Were.

  The chairs between me and the dead are packed with students, parents, and teachers. We exist somewhere between shell-shocked and devastated.

  I hear my name called, and I turn to see Blair and Wills. Wills is holding a seat for me, and Blair is headed straight in my direction.

  It’s such a relief to see them. They are my rocks through everything difficult, and my greatest joy when things are good. We’ve had a rough time of it, and for a while I thought I’d lost them forever. Victoria meant to break us apart, literally, but all she did was make us stronger.

  Blair’s arm is in a sling. He was injured in the blast and the fire, but he’ll recover soon enough. He was right beside me and he blocked me from some debris, getting hit with it himself and taking the injury in my place, though I didn’t know it at the time.

  I hug him tightly when he reaches me, and he wraps a protective arm around my shoulders as he walks me to our seats with Wills. As I walk down the aisle to my seat, I see Astor and Victoria at the end of the row. Astor is staring at me, and as usual, I can’t read the look on his face. I can’t tell what he’s thinking at all, but Victoria’s glare is undeniable. There’s that same hatred; that same loathing that she always has for me.

  The last time I saw that look on her face was when she was leaving the party after she’d set off the explosion, hoping to pin it on me. She was doing all that she could to get me kicked out of Hawthorne Academy for good. Now she’s a murderer, but no one else knows.

  I hate that. I hate that she’s going to get away with it.

  I know she didn’t intend for anyone to die, but she could at least pretend to be sorry. She looks like she has absolutely no remorse. No guilt. No shame at all. If I’m reading her right, she’s just seriously pissed off that her plan failed and I’m still here. Top that with the fact that Astor’s staring at me again, and it’s the perfect recipe for her special brand of jealous rage.

  Victoria crosses her arms over her chest and turns her head to face forward. Her jaw is clenched and her cheeks are just a little redder than normal. Good. Let her wallow.

  I hug Wills and kiss him, and then sit down between my boys as Astor looks away from me and turns his attention to the caskets lined up before all of us.

  There’s still a part of me that misses Astor, but we’re so beyond that now. It’s thanks to him that Dana survived that night at all … but still, he went back to Victoria. After everything, he always goes back to Victoria.

  I thought he was stronger than that, but I guess I was wrong. So here we are, and here we stay.

  Music swells around us, and I take the boys’ hands as we all suffer through the pain of saying goodbye to our classmates and friends. It’s an extra-long funeral as it’s really three in one, but it does come to an end, and everyone mills around refreshment tables that have been set up in another tent.

  It’s the first funeral where I actually sit through the whole thing. It’s messy and beautiful and just desperately, desperately sad. This is not a celebration of life. This is an attempt to piece together something out of a mess that cannot be pieced back together.

  Afterwards, standing in the forlorn crowd, I notice a subtle shift happen all around me.

  Between the hugs, tears, and glazed-over eyes that stare down into the fruit punch wishing it was something stronger, my classmates are making an unspoken decision.

  I’m standing with my boys as they talk to a good-sized group of our friends. Victoria and Astor stand at the opposite end of the tent, holding their own sort of court … but it’s smaller than usual.

  It’s a surprise to me that so many people in the school seem to have migrated out from under Victoria and Astor, and over to Wills, Blair, and me so quickly. Up until a couple weeks ago most of these people wouldn’t even talk to me, now they’re standing here like old comrades.

  It’s as if we’re on separate sides of something bigger than this tent, bigger than this funeral, and those around us are making a conscious choice between the two.

  It might not be common knowledge that Victoria started the fire, but it’s like they can sense something’s wrong. She was supposed to be their leader, but she didn’t protect them. So, now, naturally they’re looking for someone who can.

  And who better than the three people who openly defied her?

  I’m a little surprised when I see Laura Brighton coming up to me too. Her eyes are red and swollen, which is no surprise. She’s been hurt more than most by these deaths, so her pain is not unexpected.

  Alisha Kane, laying in the white coffin that’s covered in pink roses, was her best friend. The two of them were always at Victoria’s side, but not today. I would have expected her to be there now, beside Victoria where she always is, but she’s headed to me. Normally I’d want nothing to do with her, thanks to her past antics tormenting me. But knowing that she’s devastated, I take the upper hand and offer her a hug.

  Laura doesn’t hesitate. She buries her face in my neck and begins to weep. I just hold her tightly and Wills rubs a hand over her back to help comfort her. When she can breathe again, she looks at me and Blair hands her some tissues to dab at her tear-stained face.

  I’m surprised she came to me for comfort, but her next words surprise me even more.

  “We’re both so sorry for the way that we treated you.”

  Even Blair and Wills look surprised, but she forges on.

  “Alisha’s gone now, so she can’t say it, but I know that if she had the chance, she would have wanted to. She would have wanted you to know that she’s sorry and that she never really meant any of it.”

  Laura looks at me with her soft brown eyes and I can see that they are brimming with regret as much as tears, and I hug her once more as I speak quietly in her ear.

  “It takes a big person to own up to it when they’ve done something wrong. Thank you for the apology, Laura, it means a lot. I’m sure Alisha knows you’ve fixed this for the both of you. Thank you.” I let her go and give her a small smile. She smiles back a little and nods at me.

  Dr. Baxter, our principal, picks up a microphone and begins to spe
ak again. He said some unexpectedly heartfelt words during the funeral, but now he’s addressing all of us informally as we stand around him.

  “I want everyone to know that all of the winter finals have been cancelled. The faculty and staff recognize that the trauma of this tragic event is more than enough to affect the abilities of our students.”

  He goes on to explain that they’d made arrangements for trauma and grief counsellors to be available any time, day or night. For the first time in their extensive history, the school grounds will remain open for the entirety of break for anyone who feels the need to stay and process what just happened.

  I don’t know about anyone else, but all I want is to get away.

  He goes on, his voice even more dry and emotionless than usual. “For those of you traveling home for winter break, the counsellors will be available via the telephone or video calls. Please use this service if you feel you need to; grief can be quite difficult to get through. There will be a candlelight vigil on what would have been the last night of classes, but otherwise we shall see you all in January. The staff and I wish you all the very best.”

  Dr. Baxter sets the microphone down and hasn’t taken two steps before someone stops him to talk. I feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turn to look up into the face of Eli Hamilton.

  I didn’t expect to see him here, but I guess I should have. He was there that night. He lost someone too.

  Eli is one of the reps from Columbia University. He’s been around since October, talking to students, guest-lecturing in classes, and recruiting young people. He was once a student here at Hawthorne, and I think he’s keen to get as many Hawthorne students into Columbia as he can.

  “Mr. Hamilton!” I say, trying not to sound too irked to see him. He’s started developing a habit of turning up at the most inopportune moments. The very last thing I want to talk about right now is my college application.

  “Eli,” he reminds me. He’s asked me to call him that before.

  “Eli,” I repeat dryly. “Thanks for coming.” I’m not sure what else to say to him, but he was there the night these three kids died, and he was one of the first people to start hauling injured bodies out of the cellar, so I owe him something.

  It was Eli who carried my best friend Dana out and got her to an ambulance so she could be taken to the hospital. He was level headed and helpful, even when the man he brought along as his guest lay dead beside us, and I have to remember that.

  “I was hoping to talk with you.” He looks at me so seriously that I can feel Wills and Blair both turn their attention to him as well. They were both engaged in conversations with different people, but now they’re completely focused on whatever Eli’s here to say.

  He glances at the boys and I can see him realize that they aren’t going anywhere. “Okay. You remember the man who was with me at the party. The one I was trying to introduce you to?”

  I nod. “Yes. I’m sorry about that.”

  Eli grimaces. “Yes. His name was, or is, Paul White. He’s the younger brother of Dane White … Sadie’s dad.”

  Sadie’s uncle.

  Sounds like luck doesn’t exactly run in the family. Sadie White is the girl who I pretended to be the whole first semester here at Hawthorne because we could have passed for twins. I swallow hard and nod.

  I’m not sure what he wants me to say to that. If this is some attempt to shame me, he’s come at the wrong time. Still, I’m careful with my response.

  “I had no idea,” I say. “It’s been a rough year for that family.”

  Eli presses his lips together in a tight line for a long moment, and then inhales slowly and deeply. “Do you remember that I took some of your hair? A loose hair that had fallen on your shoulder?”

  It seems an odd thing to bring up here, but it also sounds vaguely familiar to me. I remember little snippets of this same conversation.

  “Were you trying to tell me something about this at the party?”

  Eli speaks quietly. “Yes. I ran your DNA because it was just too ironic that you could look so much like Sadie White and not be related to her.”

  I blink in surprise. “What are you trying to say?”

  “Exactly what you’re thinking,” Eli replies gently. “There was a good reason you two looked so alike. Sadie was your cousin. Ellen and Dane White are her parents, and Dane’s younger brother Paul, her uncle, is your father.”

  Everything in me freezes. I can’t think. I can’t even breathe. Somehow there’s a whisper that finds its way out of me. “What?”

  Eli takes both of my hands in his as the boys and I stare at him. “Paul White is your father. When I did the DNA test on your hair strand and confirmed it, I told him first. He never knew you existed.”

  He’s looking at me like he expects me to say something, but my mind is completely blank. I’m struggling to compute what he’s trying to say.

  So he just goes on. “He was coming here the night of the party to meet you. He was so excited, so thrilled to get to get to know you; to have you become a part of his life. And then …” Eli trails off and suddenly my mind flashes back to the scene after the explosion.

  Paul White laying on the floor at my feet in a pool of blood.

  I ignored him, reaching instead for Victoria to find out what happened. I can see her in my mind, her arms colored with the chemicals she used to set off the explosions. She wrenched herself free of me and took off, but still … I ignored the man lying at my feet and looked for Dana instead.

  I left him there, and whether or not he was already dead is irrelevant.

  The stranger who lay dying, ignored and forgotten, was my father.

  And he was coming to claim me.

  Chapter 3

  “Oh my god.”

  I manage to breathe out quietly, but I feel both Blair and Wills’ arms go around my back and shoulders as we stand together and stare at Eli Hamilton.

  Eli sighs. “I’m so sorry that you didn’t get a chance to meet him. I wish things had worked out differently. He so wanted to meet you. He was looking forward to it more than I’ve ever seen him look forward to anything, and I’ve known him a long time.”

  I can’t feel anything all over my body.

  I’m numb, except for my heart. It’s pounding hard inside me and I can hear the rush of blood flooding through my ears like a deafening roar.

  I had a parent who didn’t know about me. One who actually wanted me when he found out that I existed. Numb on the outside, inside, I’m feeling so many things all at once.

  Gratitude for having a parent somewhere out there after all.

  Sorrow at having lost a father I am never going to know now.

  Heartache as I realize that I truly am alone.

  And anger, deep down, beneath all of the turbulent emotions roiling through me at this moment, there is strong, heated, burning anger.

  Victoria killed my father, and any chance I might have at getting to know a parent in this life. I have never truly hated many people, but Victoria has just risen to the top of that list, and that is where she will stay for the rest of my life.

  Or hers.

  However short I pray that might be.

  Eli is still talking.

  “Paul’s funeral is this afternoon. I know that you’ve been through a lot here at the school today, but I thought that I’d let you know about it, in case you wanted to go.”

  Tears from seemingly nowhere blind me and pour from my eyes down my cheeks. I held it in for my classmate’s funeral, but I can’t anymore. Not when I just found out I had a father after all, and that I very nearly had the chance to get to know him.

  I nod, even though I’m sure the very last thing the White’s want right now is to see me.

  Wills and Blair both close their arms around me tightly, and squeeze, giving comfort that I so desperately need.

  “Do you want us to come with you?” Wills asks, speaking low into my ear.

  I can’t even think at first, but my mind finally starts
working again, at least a little. I take a moment to decipher my emotions and thoughts. I realize that this is the only chance that I’m going to have to be with my father, even if it’s in another casket.

  Something in me feels very strongly about it, almost possessive and determined; selfish even, in some ways.

  “No. I want to go and do this on my own,” I answer, and Wills kisses my cheek.

  “Okay. Whatever you need. Anything you need. Just let us know.”

  He hugs me tightly with both arms, and then Blair does the same before handing me another package of tissues.

  I’d like to stay—to process everything—but there’s no time. I wave at them both and follow Eli away from the funeral and toward his car. I spot Astor standing near a table. He’s staring at me as Victoria tries to slide her hand into his arm and get his attention, but he pulls away from her and begins to take a few steps toward me. He follows after until he realizes that I’m leaving, and then he stops.

  Good.

  I couldn’t handle him too right now.

  It starts out as a quiet ride with Eli as he drives us away from the school, but part way down the road he glances over at me and clears his throat.

  “You must have questions. Feel free to ask me anything.”

  I can only stare at the road ahead as it disappears beneath the car. It takes me a moment, but then I nod.

  “Yeah, I have a lot of questions. How did he know my mother? Paul, I mean.”

  Eli sighs and looks out of his window before taking a deep breath and answering me. “I’m not sure how much you know about your mother, and I’m not going to candy coat this for you. You’re an adult now. You deserve to know the truth.”

  “I already know what she was,” I say.

  He clears his throat again, but he clearly looks relieved that he didn’t have to break that news to me too.