Barely by Madison Faye

It doesn’t happen right away. That’s the thing about life when it wants to sneak up on you to fuck you over. First, it lulls you into blindness. And that’s exactly what the next few days are like. For the next few days, I just drop into a fucking dreamland with Brynn. It’s absolutely lunacy, and I’m fully aware of the thousand different ways I’d be fucked if it ever got out. But I can’t—literally can’t—stop. I won’t stop. Not with her.

So for the next few days, we’re in our own little world. She basically moves in, and it’s not to the guest room, it’s to my room. For the next few days, she shares my bed, wrapped in my arms. She shares my shower, too. And the hot tub, and the living room floor, and the couch, and against the inside of the front door. And in the backseat of my car. And on top of my car, in the garage.

And we’re barely less wild at school. Suddenly, Brynn Henley finds herself getting sent to the Principal’s office left and right. She gets herself detention, with me, on the night I need to stay late to finish up some administrative stuff. Of course, I barely get it done since I’m too busy groaning in my chair as Brynn swallows my cock. I’m too busy spreading her out across my desk and fucking her slow and deep, just letting it build and build and build until she comes so fucking hard for me.

It’s wild, it’s untamed, and it’s fucking reckless as hell, and I do not care. I can’t. Not when being near her, or kissing her, or just touching her pulls me into this fantasy land that I never want to leave.

But a few days later, I get pulled out of that fantasy world, ready or not.

I’m done for the day, and Brynn’s got a late practice with the swim team. And as much as I’d like to drop by the practice and watch her prancing around in a skin-tight bathing suit, I’m not that far into the deep end to not realize what a shit idea that is. Brynn’s already mentioned that two friends of hers from swim, Waverly Owens and Sasha VanCortland, have noticed her, well, not sleeping in the dorms. She’s brushed them off with excuses like having to study late and practice early. But somehow, I get the impression that me showing up to practice and just fucking devouring her with my eyes, or her fucking up because she’s making eyes with me might just be a terrible idea.

So instead, I head across campus and take the short walk into downtown Southworth for a drink. I take deep breath of crisp fall air, smiling and feeling like I’m walking in a goddamn fantasy world as I step into The Walrus and take a stool. The bartender knows me and slides me a scotch on the rocks, and I thank him and take a sip, when the voice comes at me from behind.

“Evening, headmaster.”

I freeze. There’s a familiarity to the voice, and even if not, it’s not a nice greeting. It’s a voice laced with poison and malice. I turn, my jaw tight and my hand closing into a fist, and when my eyes finally take him in, I growl.

Fuck.

It does take me quarter second to place him, but when I do, the hairs on my neck stand up.

“Remember me?”

Yeah, now I do. The greasy little weasel of a man grinning at me is Lorenzo Tonelli, the mob guy that thought he could lay hands on Brynn or make her fucking work for him at that goddamn club because of her father’s debt. The man I almost beat the shit out of when I yanked her out of there. And it seems he’s fully aware of who I am now, which is not good, for a number of reasons.

“I do,” I growl. I reach for my glass, taking a slow, measured sip as my eyes move over the rest of the room. Yep, there they are—four of them, trying to blend in like they’re not there with Lorenzo but failing miserably. For one, two of them are the two goons I smacked the shit out of that night, and they’re still nursing those bruises. One even catches my eyes and glares before he quickly looks away, remembering that he’s supposed to be “secret” backup for Lorenzo or whatever. I roll my eyes, swallowing my scotch.

“So, listen, Headmaster—”

“It’s just Principal.”

“Huh?”

Lorenzo scowls, and I shrug.

“It’s Principal, not headmaster.”

His eyes narrow. “Whatever. Listen, I’m not here to start any shirt.”

“No?” I nod at the guys around the room. “Sure looks like it.”

He shrugs. “Listen, pal, you want to tell me why you’re protecting the girl?”

My eyes lock onto his, unblinking.

“Not really.”

He grins this sickly smile that makes my jaw clench.

“Hey, listen, Principal, I get it! No, I do. I mean, that is one hot little bitch, huh?”

My lips pull back in a snarl.

“Careful.”

He chuckles. “Buddy, I’m on your team here! I get it! That’s a tight little ass on that cutie! Shit, if I were in your shoes, I’d be protecting her like a treasure too!”

I grip my glass tight, but I don’t respond to the clear provocation. He wants me to react, so that his guys can dog pile me.

Lorenzo wags his brows, peering at me for a response and then frowning when he doesn’t get it.

“You gettin’ your dick wet, headmaster?”

“Principal.”

He snorts a laugh, shaking his head. “This fuckin’ guy.” he sighs. “She’s staying with you, yeah?”

I don’t say a word, and he rolls his eyes.

“I know she is, pal. And I get it. But whatever, we won’t go there. We’ll just pretend that guys like you and me are perfect gentleman, huh?”

He grins as my face hardens.

“But brass tacks, let’s talk. How much?”

I frown. “Pardon?”

“How much, Colton,” he says thinly, using my first name in a way that chills me.

“Look, I can come back with a bunch of fellas and break down your fucking door and take her, or you just make some dough and be on your way. I know teachers get paid shit in this country.” He sighs. “I mean there’s the real crime, am I righ—”

“Winchester is a nice gig,” I growl quietly. “I’m fine with money.”

He glares at me. “I’m sure. But how much.”

“You realize I could call the cops right now, don’t you?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe. But we both know you ain’t going to.”

“No?”

He laughs. “Fuck no, Colton. You would have already, and I know why you haven’t. We both do.”

“You need to stay away from her.”

“You need to get your fat nose out of other people’s business,” he snaps back. “Her daddy is a way bigger crook than me, you fuckin’ white knight prick. And he stole a lot of money from me.”

“That’s between you and him.”

“And her.”

“No,” I growl thinly, putting my drink down and standing. I glare down at him, towering over him as I clench my jaw. I see his goons around the room begin to walk over, but he waves his hand, keeping them back.

“No, Lorenzo, we’re done here. And you’re done with her. You want what you’re owed? Take it up with her father. But if you come sniffing around for her again? You come onto my fucking campus and try and scare her? Or fucking touch her?”

I snarl, the sound sudden and savage enough to startle him.

“You come near her, or me, again, and I’ll break you in half.”

Lorenzo swallows, his beady eyes flashing at me before he clears his throat and glares at me.

“Not smart, pal.”

“Walk away, right now.”

He eyes me, slowly nodding.

“Last chance. How much.”

“Fuck off.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “You’re a fucking idiot, pal.”

“And you’re not hearing me.”

“Just give me a fucking dollar amount,” he sneers. “And you can wash your hands of this whole little mess you’ve managed to step—”

“If you’re not gone in five seconds, I’ll break both your hands, and then put every one of your guys skulking around the room here in the hospital. Do we understand each other?”

He rolls his eyes, and he starts to open his mouth when I stop him.

“Look at me,” I growl. “Look at me and tell me I’m fucking bluffing.”

He glares at me, chewing on it before he snorts and shakes his head.

“This ain’t over, Principal Kane.”

“Yes, it is.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.”

He chuckles as he pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and tosses a hundred-dollar bill onto the bar.

“Drinks on me.”

“No thanks.”

“Jesus, fuckin’ boy scouts, man!” he snaps, glaring at me. “Then fucking burn it, fuck, I don’t care. But you will be seeing me again.”

“Better bring more guys next time then.”

He smiles thinly, shaking his head as he turns and starts to walk away.

“Maybe I will, shithead,” he throws over his shoulder. “Enjoy your whore—I mean your drink.”

My jaw clenches, and I glare at his four guys as they all glare at me before following Lorenzo out.

Well, this just got more interesting.