Break Me: Dark High School Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Sapphire Bay High Book 1) Read online

  Break Me

  Book 1

  Sapphire Bay High Series

  Naomi Martin

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  No part of this eBook may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  The methods/actions described within this eBook are the author’s personal thoughts, as no characters, places, or events are based on anything considered “real.”

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter One

  “So? What do you think?”

  At the sound of my mother’s voice, I turn to find her leaning against the doorjamb, watching me.

  “I think it still smells like grandma,” I reply.

  She smiles gently. “So, open a window and light a candle.”

  The hardwood floor creaks under my feet as I cross the room to the window. The view outside is stunning and, having spent all of my eighteen years in the city, is unlike anything I’m used to. There’s nothing but the green of a thick, dense forest as far as the eye can see behind what is to be our new home. It’s beautiful. Breathtaking might be an even better word for it.

  Grandma usually came down to visit us in L.A., but I can remember coming here once when I was little. The memories, though, are vague. Hazy. But the one thing I do vividly recall is the smell my grandmother carried with her. Lilacs. That was always her scent. And her house is still saturated with the aroma.

  “There’s worse things to smell,” I tell my mom, a faint smile curling my lips.

  The floorboards creak again from behind me and the next thing I know, my mom is wrapping her arms around me. I lean back into her and close my eyes, taking comfort in the closeness. I reach up to grip her arms, cherishing the solid feel of her holding me. God knows there hasn’t been much that’s felt solid lately.

  To say it’s been a tough year would be an understatement. Thirteen months ago, I lost my dad. He was a firefighter down in L.A., and he’d gotten caught inside a burning building when it collapsed. Then, about six months ago, my grandma passed away suddenly. So, yeah, for the last year, it’s felt like the ground beneath my feet has been made of nothing but shifting sands.

  After my dad died, I started getting into some trouble. Boys and booze mostly, with a dash of shoplifting and perhaps a pinch of vandalism mixed in. My grades slipped and I started mouthing off to my teachers. I went from being the sort of Honor Roll, perfect attendance, ass-kissing student teachers love to the foul-mouthed, don’t-give-a-shit-about-anything, perpetually truant delinquent they hate.

  Most of my teachers tried to give me the benefit of the doubt. They tried to be understanding, given what I’d gone through. But sympathy had its limits. I’d turned into the sort of kid who makes them rethink their career choice – not that I’m proud of it. With a little time and distance, now, I can see what a jerk I was. I feel ashamed by how I acted and treated people back home. Yeah, I was grieving, but that’s no an excuse for being as big of an asshole as I was. And I was an asshole – my life was spiraling out of control, and I had lashed out at everybody around me, taking my pain out on them. I can see that now.

  “This can be the start of a whole new life for us, kiddo,” my mom says.

  “I’ll be better, Mom.” I assure her softly. “I promise.”

  “I know you will be.”

  She plants a kiss on the top of my head and steps back, letting me go. There’s a small part of me that wishes she’d hold onto me for just a little while longer, but I don’t want to feel like a child so I remain quiet.

  She gives me a gentle smile as she reaches out and strokes my hair. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to start unpacking and nesting.”

  She’s already walking to the door when I call out to her. She stops and turns around, with her hand resting on the knob.

  “I love you, Mom.”

  Her smile is warm. “I love you, too, kiddo.”

  She leaves and closes the door softly behind her, leaving me alone in my room with all my boxes. I open one up and pull a frame from it, my vision growing blurry with tears as I look at the photo of me and my dad, taken about a month before he died. We’d been out on the Santa Monica Pier, just enjoying a day of goofing off while my mom was out of town for work. We did that from time to time, but that was the last time we’d gotten to go out like that before he died.

  I wipe my eyes and set the frame down on the nightstand next to my bed. After that, I spend the rest of the afternoon “nesting,” as my mother would say. I put all my books up on shelves, hang my pictures and posters on the walls, put fresh sheets on the bed, and arrange everything more or less the way I like it.

  Finally, I stand near the door and look around my new room, a small smile on my face.

  “That’ll do for now.”

  Feeling accomplished, I head downstairs to see if my mom needs help.

  * * * * *

  “Okay, I’m leaving,” she calls.

  I trot downstairs to find my mom standing at the front door. The last couple of weeks have been a nice break, but she has to go back to work so I guess the vacation is over. It’s been really good, though, and I’ve enjoyed spending time with my mom – something I haven’t really been able to say in more than a year. But I feel like, over the past couple of weeks, we’ve grown a lot closer. Even closer than when my dad was alive.

  “You look great, Mom. You’ll do great.”

  She smiles wide. “Of course I will. They’re lucky to have me.”

  We share a laugh, but I can see the shadow of fear in her eyes. She’s as worried about starting a new job as I am about starting a new school. I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

  “This is a chance for a fresh start, right?” I remind her.

  She nods. “Absolutely right.”

  “You’re gonna crush it, Mom.”

  She gives me a kiss on the forehead and smiles. “Damn right, I will.”

  I hold the door open for her and watch as she gets into her car and drives off. I pull the door closed and wander into the kitchen, where I pour some chocolate milk and fish the Pop-Tarts out of the pantry.

  “Breakfast of champions.”

  After breakfast, with nothing better to do, I throw on some shorts and a t-shirt, pull on my shoes, and head out into the backyard. Acr
oss the grass, I open the gate in the fence at the back that leads to the forest beyond. A small path leads me out among the trees into air that’s saturated with the musk of the earth and the spicy scent of the soaring pine trees overhead.

  The canopy overhead is so thick, it blots out most of the light, leaving the floor of the forest in dim, murky shadows. Frankly, it’s kind of creepy. Good thing I like creepy stuff. I’ve been a fan of all things horror since I was a kid, and I still plan on becoming the next Stephen King. And perhaps it’s because I’m always so immersed in all things dark and disturbing that I’m getting the feeling I’m not alone out here in the woods.

  I hear the sound of rushing water up ahead, but behind me, I hear the rustling of the undergrowth and the snapping of twigs. It’s muffled, though, and it sounds like whoever’s out there is stepping lightly. They’re obviously doing what they can to be quiet, but there’s no question – somebody’s following me.

  My pulse racing, I glance behind me but don’t see anyone out there. The trees are packed too tightly together, and the undergrowth is too thick to give me a clear line of sight – but that also works to my advantage.

  Moving quickly, I duck behind a tree trunk that’s as wide as I am tall and pick up a thick stick I find on the ground at my feet. And then, I wait. The footsteps behind me come to a stop, as if they’re standing there listening for me, too. I hold my breath, tension tightening my belly almost painfully. But then I hear footsteps again, slow and tentative, drawing closer. The seconds tick by slowly, each moment feeling like an eternity.

  And when my mysterious stalker draws even with the tree trunk, I leap out, makeshift club raised over my head, howling like a maniac – and find myself face to face with a blonde-haired girl whose brown eyes are wider than dinner plates behind her glasses. Seeing me about to crack her over the head with my stick, she throws her hands up and lets out a shriek that would make any Hollywood scream queen proud.

  The girl stumbles a couple of steps back, still holding her hands up to ward off my attack. There is so much adrenaline coursing through me, I almost take a home-run swing and crack her over the skull. But I manage to hold off – just barely.

  “Wai-wait!” She cries. “Don’t kill me.”

  “Why are you following me?” I shout. “Who in the hell are you?”

  “Bonnie,” she shouts back. “Bonnie Wilkins.”

  I lower my stick but keep it at the ready. “Why are you following me?”

  “I-I just saw you out here and didn’t know who you were,” she stammers. “I was – curious.”

  My pulse slows incrementally and my grip on the stick loosens in the face of the girl’s wide-eyed fear. She’s a couple of inches shorter than me, a mousy, little waif of a thing, and I suddenly feel bad for scaring her half to death. She looks at me, lips trembling, and as I watch, a slow, goofy grin crosses her face. A moment later, she erupts in a nervous laughter that’s strangely infectious and, soon enough, I’m laughing along with her and the tension that had been so thick in the air a moment ago quickly dissipates.

  Slowly, our laughter fades and we’re both left standing there staring at one another. Though the fear and tension have evaporated, a strained awkwardness has taken their place. I clear my throat and turn back to the trail, resuming my walk just to break the sudden weirdness. I look over and smile as Bonnie falls into step beside me.

  “I’m Winter,” I introduce myself. “Winter Keating.”

  “Hi, Winter. So – new around here, huh?”

  I nod. “Afraid so.”

  We stop at the edge of a stream and sit down on the trunk of a fallen tree. The sunlight sparkles dazzlingly on the water, and a cool breeze whispers through the trees. As I look around at the thick expanse of forest and the breathtaking world that surrounds me, about the only word I can use to describe it is idyllic. It really is like a little slice of heaven.

  “Where’d you live before you came to Sapphire Bay?” Bonnie asks.

  “L.A.,” I tell her.

  “I imagine this place is like a different world.”

  A smile touches my lips. “You can say that again. It’s so beautiful up here,” I enthuse. “I’ve never seen so much green in all my life. It’s not all concrete and glass.”

  “I can’t imagine living somewhere so… bleak,” she admits. “I grew up in Sapphire Bay and have spent a lot of time in these woods. I know them like the back of my hand.”

  I turn my face up to the sun and soak in the rays, relishing the warmth upon my skin before I look over and give her a smile.

  “You’d think somebody who grew up playing in these woods would be able to move around in them a little quieter.” I grin.

  She laughs. “I wasn’t exactly training to be a ninja out here, you know.”

  “Clearly.”

  She gives me the finger and laughs harder. “Eat shit.”

  There’s already an ease between us I find comforting, and I can’t help but like Bonnie. I get the feeling she and I are a lot alike. People would probably consider the both of us nerds, misfits, and social outcasts, which gives us a natural bond. It makes her an immediate ally.

  And since I don’t have any friends just yet, it’d do me some good to make one.

  Chapter Two

  I sit at the counter at the center island in the kitchen, eating breakfast. My mom is standing across from me on the other side, grinning at me as she chews on her pancakes. She woke up early to make me a special breakfast for the first day of school, but she hasn’t stopped staring at me with that weird expression since I came downstairs. I look up and catch her looking at me with a goofy grin on her face that makes me laugh.

  “Why are you smiling at me like that?” I ask.

  “Can’t I just smile at my beautiful baby girl?”

  “It’s kinda creepy.”

  “I bet Bonnie never says that to her mom,” she points out.

  “I bet Bonnie’s mom never smiles at her all creepily like that.”

  Mom laughs and shakes her head, taking a long swallow of her coffee. I’m enjoying the light banter between us this morning. It feels a lot like the old days, when my dad was still alive. Mealtimes were always fun, with lots of jokes and laughter. It’s been a while since we’ve had that, so it’s nice to feel like Mom and me are getting it back again.

  “I’m glad you made a friend, Winter,” she says. “Bonnie seems like a really nice girl.”

  “You mean, she seems like a good influence.”

  She grins. “That doesn’t hurt, either.”

  Ever since we met out in the woods, Bonnie and I have been virtually inseparable. She’s given me a comprehensive tutorial of Sapphire Bay, sharing all the ins and outs of the place, showing me the places to go and the places to avoid. We apparently get a lot of tourist traffic through here, so she’s pointed out the places that cater to them and the places that cater to the locals. It’s been quite the education.

  And since she lives right next door, we’ve become fixtures at each other’s houses. We’ve spent the balance of the summer poking around town, taking little day trips out into the forest around us, and in general, growing closer. I’ve never really had somebody I’d call a best friend before, and I have to say, it’s kinda nice.

  My mom gives me a gentle smile. “So, are you ready?”

  I let out a long breath and wash down my mouthful of pancake with a long swallow of milk. My stomach churns and I feel nervous energy coursing through me as the reality of starting classes at a new school settles over me once more.

  “About as ready as I’m going to be, I think,” I answer.

  “Well, look at it this way,” she says, “you’re not going in cold. You’ve got a friend already.”

  “Safety in numbers.”

  “Exactly.” She grins.

  As if on cue, there’s a knock at the door – the sound of which pierces my heart with a spike of adrenaline, since I know what it signifies. My mom comes around the island and wraps me up in a tig
ht embrace, kissing me on the cheek. I squirm in her grasp – I have to keep up appearances, after all – but truth be told, I enjoy how close Mom and I have gotten since we moved here.

  She pulls back and looks me in the eye. “A little early, isn’t it? That anxious to get started?”

  I laugh. “Hardly. Bonnie is gonna show me around campus and help me figure out where my classes are so I don’t look like a complete idiot.”

  “Good thing. You can certainly use all the help you can get.”

  “Gee, thanks, Mom.”

  She laughs and gives me a wink. But then her expression grows a little more serious; there’s a strange, almost nostalgic gleam in her eye and a small, sad smile on her face.

  “Well, then, I guess it’s time,” she says.

  “Looks that way.” I grin. “But I swear to God, if you start crying like you did on my first day of school, I’m going to run away and join the circus.”

  She laughs. “You’re going to be great,” she says. “Remember, this is our fresh start.”

  I nod. “It’s our fresh start.”

  As I get to my feet, my mom grabs my plate. “I’ll take care of the dishes before I head to the office.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  I grab my backpack off the counter and the butterflies in my stomach start churning so hard, I’m half-afraid those delicious blueberry pancakes I just ate are about to end up on the kitchen floor. Thankfully, I manage to hold it down and subdue the fluttering insects in my belly. At least, somewhat.

  “Have a good day, Winter.”

  I give her a smile. “You, too.”

  I head down the hall to the front door and open it. Bonnie is standing there, a wide smile on her face.

  “You ready to do this?” She grins.

  “Not really, but do we have a choice?”

  Bonnie shakes her head. “Sadly, no.”

  I heave a dramatic sigh. “Then, I guess we should get it over with.”

  “Don’t worry, you have an expert to guide you through all of the pitfalls and traps at Sapphire Bay High.” She laughs. “Because, trust me, there are a lot.”