Feuds and Reckless Fury by K. Webster

 

Alister

Canyon Voss is a fucking prick.

I’ve always known it, but it looks like this year, everyone else will know it too. His perfect mask slipped the night his dad proposed to mine. I’ll admit, I’d gleefully watched his confusion transform to one of rage, curious about what he’d do. Seeing him punch his dad had been exhilarating because, honestly, I wanted to do the same. It was entertaining watching the good boy fall from grace.

I just expected him to get back up again.

To go back to the way he was last year and every one before that.

Something inside him changed, though, and there’s no covering up the fury that ripples from him. All summer, he’d made himself scarce. When his father, Ryan, moved out of the apartment he’d been staying in since the divorce and into Dad’s and my place after the proposal, Canyon still never came around. I didn’t have to see his sorry ass at all.

That reprieve has ended.

I can feel it.

The way he practically attacked me said everything…

He’s out for blood, and mine is first on the list.

Voss is an idiot, though, if he thinks I’ll sit around and let him toy with me. His arrogance is suffocating, but over the years, I’ve learned how to breathe anyway.

It’s called coping.

Surviving.

Doing whatever it takes to hold onto the life you have because the alternative really fucking sucks.

I was ten when Dad adopted me. My home life up until that point had been harsh and scary at times. Worse than any physical pain I endured was the psychological torture I went through. I was a husk—unwanted and unloved. But then, Quinn Sommers was there with his gentle smile and big heart, saving me from everything that hurt and terrified me. It was too good to be true. I didn’t want to believe it.

I still don’t.

It’s the only thing I can believe in, though.

The clock is ticking away for when he’ll inevitably give me up if I don’t prove to him that I can be the good son he took in all those years ago.

He’ll keep me when I graduate.

I know he will.

Yet…doubt makes me wonder.

He’ll be married to Ryan. What if he won’t need me anymore?

Bitterness coils in my gut like a venomous snake ready to strike. I’d been tense and ready for a fight this morning since I received a text from an unknown number. It said: You don’t belong with him. Even though it was clearly a wrong number, it got to me. All of my insecurities about being temporary in Dad’s life came roaring to the surface. Seeing Voss was like a match thrown on my resolve to behave. He was practically thrumming with pent-up rage, and I wanted nothing more than to release a little of my own.

“Sommers!”

I stop in front of Mr. Garrison’s door, turning to face the source of the voice. Leon ambles my way, creating a wide berth as he walks. Leon is a big-ass dude, but he’s harmless. People don’t know that, though. All they know is he rarely smiles and follows me like a shadow, which creeps them out. Something about Leon has always brought me comfort. Not much in this life has besides him and my dad.

“Miss me, Moore?” I flash him a flirty grin just to watch his face burn crimson.

“Ha,” he deadpans. “You have Garrison first hour?”

“Someone has to be valedictorian. May as well be me.” I shrug, my gaze sweeping up his massive frame. A fading bruise colors one side of his face, the yellows and greens a blatant reminder of his home life. Hard. Like mine once was. “Your old man being an asshole again?”

His features fall, emotionless, and he nods. “Same as always.”

“Want me to kill him?” I ask, completely serious.

At this, he lets out a derisive snort. “What’s your goofy ass gonna do?”

I poke his stomach, knowing I sometimes get a silly bark of laughter from him, which he hates but entertains me to no end. He swats at me, but I dodge, grinning at him. “See. I got this.”

“Dick,” he says with complete affection.

If Leon swung my way, I would’ve begged him to fuck me two summers ago when he whipped some kid’s ass for shoving me at the movie theater. Something about his protective nature changed how I saw him. He went from friend to someone of interest. Sure, he’s not built like Voss or any of his emptyheaded football freaks, but he’s solid and big, just like I like them.

It’s probably for the best that he’s only got eyes for one person—a girl.

Sad thing is, she’s taken. Poor Leon will never get the chance.

I follow him into Garrison’s trig class, eager to get to work. And by work, I mean flying through my assignment so I can think about the project in my studio. I’m working on another sculpture that I can’t seem to get right. I know if I run it through my head a few more times, I’ll work out the kinks in my design.

I’m so focused on Garrison’s lecture, mentally working through all the equations at rapid speed, when I feel the heat of someone’s stare. Without tuning out what Garrison says, I cut my eyes to the right, surprised to see Voss. He’s sprawled out like a Greek god at his desk, softly drawing circles with his fingertips on Naomi’s back, bright blue eyes burning a hole into me.

How did I not notice he slipped into this class?

And since when is Voss smart enough to be in the same classroom as Naomi?

She’s the brains, and he’s the jock. How they ever came together is still surprising as shit.

I look down at his notebook. Empty. No notes. Fucking idiot. Because I have a death wish, I tear off a corner of my notes. Neatly, I write out the words, “Did you get lost, bro?” I crumple the note and then toss it right at him. It bounces off his ridiculously hard chest—barely hidden by a red, stretched-out Blood Gators Football T-shirt—and rolls across his desk, undetected by Garrison.

Voss’s chilly demeanor burns hot and violent as he tears his stare away from me to unwrap the note. His hands are massive and capable, used to deftly grabbing the football straight from the air as the school’s star receiver.

Anticipation ripples through me as I eagerly wait for him to get my message. Seeing him lose his shit this morning before class was empowering. Now that his façade has a huge crack in it, I crave to exploit the man he has hidden beneath.

As he reads the note, I admire his profile. I may hate the guy, but it doesn’t change the fact he’s hot as fuck. His jawline is sharp and seemingly chiseled from stone. I move my eyes from his jaw to his throat, where his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. The note gets crumpled into his fist, causing veins to pop up in his muscular forearm. I’d love to see his fist wrapped around something else, like his dick. My fantasies are often destructive ones. Thinking about your soon-to-be stepbrother whacking off is pretty fucked up.

I’m supposed to be normal.

He'll keep me around long after I graduate.

Shit.

Too late now.

I’ve already poked the beast, and judging by the way his entire powerful body tightens with fury, I’d say I’ve done it now.

He can’t attack me in class.

Garrison would destroy him.

Voss is a lot of things, but being careless isn’t usually one of them.

Just as I assumed, his blue eyes slice my way, burning through my chest like lasers. An evil smirk tugs up one corner of his full lips. It’s filled with the promise of devious intent. He turns his attention from me and goes back to lazily drawing things on his girlfriend’s back. My breath finally rushes out after a few uneventful moments.

That was anticlimactic.

I expected anything but to be ignored.

Garrison says something that grabs my attention, and my mind is back to unraveling calculations to the problems he’s explaining on the board. Canyon Voss may have gotten lost on his way to jock math and ended up in here with the brainiacs of the school, but I’ll be damned if I let him distract me from my perfect record.

Dad loves when I make straight As.

Everything I do is for Dad.

Voss can go to hell.

I’m pissed by the time I get to lunch midway through the day. That motherfucker has somehow managed to get into every damn class of mine so far. How I’m unsure, but I want to wrap my hands around his corded with muscle neck so I can choke the life out of him.

Leon is already sitting at our usual place by the time I make it out of the lunch line. I stride over, throwing myself into the chair next to him. His lunch tray is piled high with all kinds of shit he’s steadily making his way through.

“You notice anything weird?” I ask Leon, grimacing at the way he inhales his fries like they might walk off his plate if he doesn’t hurry.

“That Canyon Voss has infiltrated all our classes?”

I let out a rush of relieved breath. “Yes. Fuck. I thought I was the only one to notice.”

Leon bristles. Of course, he would notice. Naomi is in all the classes with us—always has been—but now her boyfriend is in the way. Leon can’t openly stare at her the whole hour, fantasizing about the two of them, because now Voss meets him with a challenging glare that warns him to look away.

“He’s just trying to get to me,” I mutter, though I’m not sure if that’s really the reason or not. “Guess you heard about this morning?”

Leon grunts. “That he almost kicked your ass? Yeah.”

“It was a mutual almost ass-kicking,” I argue. “His stupid head almost met my violin case.”

He laughs, the sound deep and rumbly. “I would’ve paid money to see that shit.”

“How much you got?” I waggle my brows at him.

“You take IOUs?”

“Yeah,” I say with a wide grin and rise to my feet as Voss enters the lunchroom with Naomi tucked against his side. “Here goes round two.”

I grab for my violin case, but Leon’s massive hand grips my arm, dragging me back down.

“Don’t be an idiot.” Leon sighs as though being my friend takes incredible effort. “He’ll kill you.”

“Like my beloved would ever allow that?” I waggle my brows at him, flashing him a grin that’s been pretty successful in me getting my dick sucked whenever I want it.

All it does is have Leon turning bright red with embarrassment. Where my relentless flirting started as hope that I’d turn a straight man gay, it’s evolved into purely for entertainment two years later. He’ll never give in, but I give him shit like I can convince him.

“I should let you get your ass kicked,” Leon warns, shooting me a dark look. “You kind of deserve it for being such a shithead.”

“You’re the only one who gets to see the real shithead. Consider it an honor.”

We rib each other back and forth as we eat our lunch. I’m finishing off my grilled chicken wrap when I feel someone’s attention on me.

Canyon Voss.

From two tables over, his blue eyes pin me like I’m an opponent on the damn football field he can easily tackle.

I flip him off because I don’t play his stupid games.

I’m certainly not intimidated by him.

His friend Damon howls in laughter, pointing my way. When Naomi’s dark eyes find what he’s entertained by, she frowns. Leon elbows me hard enough to have me rubbing the side of my arm, no longer interested in antagonizing Voss.

“What the fuck, man?” I growl, shooting Leon a death glare.

“Don’t.”

“You’re joining the Canyon Cult now?”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

I clench my jaw, keeping cruel words locked inside my mouth. Leon’s so obsessed with Naomi that he doesn’t always think straight. Letting our argument fade because it’s pointless when she somehow threads herself into it, I rise to my feet and pat Leon on the top of his head.

“See you in class, honey.”

“Fuck off, Sommers.”

“Only if we do it together,” I taunt, grinning at my friend. “Naked.”

His once again bright red face is enough retribution for the elbow to my arm.

I grab my violin case and bag, heading out of the lunchroom. As I pass by Voss’s table, I swing my case up and lift a brow in question at him.

Round two?

This time I won’t miss that big-ass head of yours.