Tormented: A Bully Romance Anthology Read online

  “I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” She lunges but a couple of girls stop her just as the coach walks in catching the tail end of things. Well, this should be fun. I can feel my lip twitching trying not to laugh, I couldn’t have timed that any better. The universe is definitely on #teamhurricanemadison today.

  “Ladies, what seems to be the problem?” Coach Landon asks Kelsey since she is the captain of the squad.

  Suddenly everyone else has better things to do and refusing to even look this way. I go back to my work humming quietly to myself. Only the sounds of breathing accompany my soft hums. No one is willing to point fingers.

  “Fine, no one wants to tell me? Then you ladies can spend the class running laps today. I do mean running if I catch you trying to walk and talk you will get detention and benched for three games! Do I make myself clear?” A chorus of yes coach echoes round before they begin to make their way to the track and run. Coach Landon shoots me a side eyed look before going back to the girls. I just continue to ignore her.

  I get lost in my work and the end of class sneaks up on me. Thankfully, the first day back is a half day for Seniors so this is my last class for the day. I’m out the door before anyone else since I don’t have to change. I push my way to my locker and switch out my stuff.Heading to the parking lot where the groups are already gathering. Conversations becoming more hushed as I walk by and nonexistent as I get to my car. Much like in the hallway earlier, I find Kieren sitting on the ground, only this time he won’t look at me. Well, that’s definitely different.

  “Kieren?” I nudge him with my foot but he still won’t look at me. So I knelt down next to him and finally get a look at his face. His left eye is swollen shut, there’s also a cut on his cheek, I don’t think his nose is broken but there is so much bruising and blood I can’t tell what the fuck is going on!

  “Holy shit, Kie! What happened?!” I wave my arms around a little wildly afraid to touch him anywhere. I can see his shirt is covered in blood and his knuckles look like he gave as good as he got. “Seriously Kieren! Who did this? We need to go to the cops or something. Do you need to go to the hospital?” I go to stand to get help when his arm shoots out to grab my wrist. He groans at the movement.

  “Don’t Maddie. Just leave it alone, I can handle them. They won’t catch me by surprise again. Look I need you to keep your head down for a while, put your revenge plan on hold.” He croaks out, his breathing labored. Wait...what does this have to do with my plan? I must have said this out loud because he answers me.

  “Ian said he saw you sneak out of the library, that you saw something you shouldn’t have. He said he was going to make sure to teach you a lesson on snooping and help you finish what you failed to do before. I lost my shit and went after him. I got some good hits don’t worry but his buddies were hiding around the corner and jumped me. You need to forget whatever you saw Madison, I’m so fucking serious right now.” Shit, I knew he saw me! Fucking, fuckity, fuck-fuck!

  “What if I told you I have a video of what I saw in the library?” I say softly as to not be overheard. Kieren’s one good eye goes wide.

  “Then I’d say you just signed your death certificate, gutter trash.” I hear from behind me just before something hits my temple and everything goes black.

  To be continued…

  About Evelyn Masters

  Evelyn is originally from the east coast but currently lives in the Midwest. When not taking care of her two spawn, she is an avid reader who finally decided to give writing a shot. She enjoys tattoos and cussing.

  Rogue Roots by Deborah Alexander

  A Blessed Children Stand-alone Story

  Possible trigger warning: Some scenes may be a trigger for some people

  Author Note

  This story takes place in the Blessed Children universe. You can find more stories like this in Children of the Moon books 1-3 by Deborah Alexander.

  Chapter One

  The World I Have Known

  Glancing up at the tinkle of the bell I saw them, as always wearing leather jackets looking like drape want-to-bes. Fuck.

  Scraping the plate of leftovers into the trash bin I knew without watching that they would sit in my section. They always do. It has been like clockwork for months: they come in, stink up the place with their terrible cologne and sit in my section to terrorize me.

  Quickly rinsing off a stack of plates I put them in the wash bin. Damn dishes never end. This was not usually something that I did but since the bus boy called out I was on double duty with my regular tables plus bussing.

  Ugh, only twenty more days and I will be eighteen. Out of this diner, where I had been busting my ass for the last two years. Out of this city, where I had no one and nothing. Out where no one could try to hold me down any longer. Just getting out would be relieving.

  Grabbing four of our brown plastic cups I filled them with the bubbly brown soda the guys preferred, not that I cared what they preferred one bit. If I were being honest I’d like to feed them shit and send them on their way. Not that the greasy slop from the dinner wasn't basically shit, but the assholes never tipped so they deserved the real stinky stuff.

  “Hey hot mama, when are you gonna sit on my face?” The leader, Slater, with his horribly quaffed greasy hair greeted me with these disgusting displays of affection daily. I ought to stab you. Smiling politely I placed the cups on napkins before them while I mentally beat Slater's head into the formica table top.

  Glancing at the group I was greeted with a variety of sleazy leers and one warm smile. Of the group, I could always count on Will to at least give me a sweet smile. His big brown eyes always shined brightly with so much innocence. I wondered, not for the first time, how he’d gotten wrapped up in this gang of heathens. He just didn't seem to fit in the way the other's did. Hair not slicked back, jacket not adorned with safety pins, he was the odd one out for sure.

  “The usual for you guys?” Plucking a pen from my curls I took my notepad out just in case they didn’t want the typical cheeseburgers and basket of fries to split. Ya never knew if they had stolen enough to pay for individual plates after all. The damn hooligans.

  Glancing from face to face they all gawked at me with different levels of lust. I was sort of used to it by now. Old men making pervy comments. Young guys trying to give me their numbers. These guys though, they took sleazy objectification to a new level. It was disturbing but ignorable for the most part, but Slater was a problem. He was the only guy who stared at me with wild intent. I was worried would act on it one day. While the other guys all wanted a piece, he was the only one I thought may be stupid enough to try me. Go ahead little boy, you will not like what you find.

  “Yup just the regular.” Rex’s sly yet charming smile replied to my inquiry like the smooth operator I just bet he wished he was. Want-to-be player or not I questioned what brought these guys together every time they came in to sit in my section and left it a mess. The unwashed biker look didn’t quite fit the others the way it fit Slater, his jacket was like a second skin. He never took it off, even in the heat of the summer months, while the others would toss theirs over their shoulders caring more for comfort than aesthetic.

  “Be right up,” focusing on the table rather than on them I noted that they had gulped down their drinks in the moment I had been standing here, “and I'll get your refills.” Walking away with the four cups, minus their straws I contemplated telling Tony, the cook, to spit in their burgers.

  Karma would come back and get me if I did though, and I wanted that bitch karma on my side. Lord knows I needed it, in twenty days when I was released from the state and on my own for the first time I would be cashing in all that good karma I've been building up. All those times of dealing with foster parent bullshit. Then moving into the group home when I got too old to be 'adoptable'. Spending those years working and going to school. Yeah, my ledger of karma was well in the black and it is almost time to make a withdrawal.

  Pressing the red soda label for the refills I rec
anted all the years I had spent in the group home. As an orphan that had grown too old and a little too wild for placement in a foster home I was turned over to a home for troubled wards of the state. ‘Troubled’ was the legal jargon for us being a bunch of uncontrollable freaks, every kid in the place had strange powers, much different than my own.

  Turning the order slip into the cook's line I brought the drinks back to the guys' table and felt four pairs of eyes on my ass as I walked away. Disgusting. They were a daily nuisance but one that I could deal with.

  Just twenty days Ahmaya, you got this. Hefting up the green-gray rack of dirty dishes I pushed open the swing doors to the kitchen and shoved the rack on to the line for washing. Coaching myself along the dreary routine I recounted all my small successes.

  You graduated high school two years early. You have been working and saving up money. You are going to be somebody one day. Most importantly you can’t pick up a charge because some hood rat assholes want to be the next live-at-nine story by pressing your buttons.

  Refreshing old Mr.Bennigan’s coffee I heard the ding of the cook's bell, the signal that I had to get the group of delinquents their food. Plastering my work smile on I ran my hands down the white apron the diner required I wear as I neared the counter. Piling my tray full of their burgers and fries I steeled myself to deliver the food to the group in the far corner that sat chuckling at each other like maniacs. There were not enough eye rolls on this planet for these guys.

  At the table handing out the baskets they barely waited until the red plastic left my hands before digging in. The savages. Grabbing the cups for yet another refill I wondered not for the first time if they didn't eat all day just so they could come here and torture me.

  Other than their messy eating and lack of tip they weren’t much different than the regulars I got every day. Well, at least my other regulars didn’t drool over my ass and try their terrible lines on me routinely.

  Leaving the check upside down on their table I turned to pick up the plates on the recently vacated table. No sleep for the working woman, I sighed as I felt the wear of the long day press upon my shoulders. It was a charcoal mask and bath bomb kind of day.

  The sharp pluck of someone’s fingers pinched my ass. My rag fell to the table in front of me as I registered the pinch. My brain blank, I felt the rage boil within me instantly. How dare!

  Whipping around I felt the fury I held locked deep inside me uncoil instinctively. Under my feet, the rumbles begin as I worked against my natural instinct to slap him right in his smug face.

  Slater. The ringleader. The bane of my days was sneering his yellow-toothed grin at me as the floor began to wobble from my call. Breath rattled my chest as I fought the instinct to beat the living daylights out of him. It would solve so many of my problems, really it would. If I just cut off the offending hand then maybe he would learn?

  “Whoa, is that an earthquake.” One of the lesser lackeys asked no one in particular. The mind-numbingly inaustute observation shook me from my concentrated effort of ending their leader.

  Ripping a breath out of my lungs I stomped it down. Can’t murder people, even if they deserve it. The call would always be on the surface but I couldn’t use it for something like this, for someone so insignificant.

  “Keep your hands to yourself.” My stony tone cut right through the chuckling lunatics. Eyes watched me as I slowly turned away from the half washed table. Rag still sitting soapy on the surface.

  Stomping straight to the back I raced through the kitchen and out the back exit into the dingy alley. Kicking the designated door rock into the jab I made sure I wouldn’t get locked out as I grunted my strained frustration. Those guys were the worst! Ughhh!

  Kicking a can I condemned myself for letting the call go out over something so small. So irritating but not life-threatening. Ahmaya, you have worked so hard to hide it how could you let it slip like that?

  Was I fucking pissed off? Yes.

  Was it worth strangling him to death with my vines? Yet to be seen.

  Stomping around and breathing helped me to get back into the service industry mindset. Just twenty more days Ahmaya. You got this girl, let it roll off you like rain. Imagining the trickling sounds of rainfall I sighed the rest of my frustrations out in the alley. I wished like nothing else to be sitting in the canopy of a huge tree listening to the rainfall around me, but no. I was here in the dingy alley, wearing a gross diner apron and slinging greasy food to gross people.

  “Guys being handsy again?” José the line cook questioned without looking up from his work as I walked by. Molding my face back into the polite smile I always wore was easier now that I was back inside.

  “Yeah,” rolling my eyes in dejection I tossed him a knowing smile, “looks like they are gone now though.” Hopefully forever.

  Making my way toward their table I considered the chances that they would dine and dash me. They had never done it before, always paying the bill and leaving no tip. These ragamuffins seemed the type though. Stacking their empty dishes I pocketed the dollars on the table so I could clear it for the next customers if there were any. Crumpled up napkins and straw wrappers littered the table. As always, they could not be bothered to even control their mess by putting it on a plate.

  I am so done with today. This time of night the regulars had already been in or eaten somewhere else. I could count on maybe a handful more stragglers to wonder in before closing.

  Keying in the guys' bill to the register I thought back at the many months I had spent with them coming in every day and pulling the same antics. They would leave a mess for me to clean up, make rude comments they didn’t think I could hear and talk about taking me to bed. Disgusting, absolutely disgusting.

  “Can I get a coffee and a pecan pie?” The customer who had sat at the counter asked without me indicating I was ready to take their order. Plastering the smile back on my face I replied a sweet affirmative while I turned to fetch it. Working was always like this, one stumble after another just trying to get through the day.

  Placing the coffee and pie on the counter in front of him I wondered if the rest of life would be the same as this. Not my life, I mentally countered.

  No, I was going to go on vacations to the rain forest and hiking on mountain trails where I could let my call go with no repercussions. I was going to go out to the wilderness where I could just exist in silence, without the pressures of hiding my powers all the time.

  As the last customer exited the dinner I clicked the halogen ‘open’ light off and locked the door. After mopping and counting down the drawer I was free to go. Turning up the radio I quickly hurried about my routine. The stresses of the day were momentarily forgotten as I sang the top hits playing on the local station as I worked away.

  Turning the key and rolling down the bars always felt relieving.Today was over and I could go home and read a little before waking up for tomorrow. Turning to my bike I noticed a folded piece of paper tucked between the brake wires and the frame. What is this now? Plucking the note out of its resting place I unlocked my beat-up old mountain bike and began walking toward home as I unfolded it.

  ‘Sorry about him, we’re not all that bad.’

  A scribbled apology on a napkin from the diner. This could only be from one of the leather-clad gang. Probably Will or Eddy, one of the nicer ones. Rolling my eyes I pocketed the note as I strolled down the sidewalk toward the group home I had called ‘home’ for years.

  Chapter Two

  The Day It All Changed

  Today had been a really good day, the group of heathens hadn’t come in and all my regulars tipped decently. Days like this were very few and far between at the diner.

  Mentally adding my tips to my bank account balance I noted that if my passport application came back quickly I could afford that trip to Brazil before I paid for an apartment. Oh, adulthood was looking up indeed. My years of bussing tables and getting shit for tips were finally beginning to show off.

  With onl
y fifteen days left until I aged out, I looked forward to my freedom with cautious optimism. After my birthday I was on my own, not that I hadn’t always been on my own, but now there was no safety net. It was on me to survive, to make a living and to make my own happiness.

  Singing to myself as I mopped up the days' footprints off the floor I felt as light as one could while performing manual labor for minimum wage. None of the usual nonsense of the day had gotten to me, not the spills or comments from customers. Today I was still wearing an authentic smile instead of my fake customer service one.

  Locking the door and rolling down the metal anti-theft bars down I turned to unlock my bike. Old faithful, I called the rusty white beach cruiser. Walking up alongside where I kept her chained to a light pole I noticed the flat tire.

  Dang. I castigated myself for not having that can of fix a flat that was on my dresser at the home. I could walk the broken down thing home, which I usually didn’t mind doing, or I could leave it here and bring a new inner tube tomorrow when I came in.

  Casting a glance toward the setting sun and feeling light from the day of ease I decided to leave the beast here. I could deal with it tomorrow.

  Shrugging it off I started on my trek as I often did, with one foot in front of the other. That was the only way I would make it anywhere in this world, with persistence and small steps. Just fifteen days Ahmaya, you got this girl.

  Up ahead of me I heard some grunting and peeling laughter. Crossing to the other side of the street I decided to avoid whoever was up there having a grand old time clearly drunk as a skunk. Waiting for the cars to clear I heard a whispered ‘would ya look who it is’ coming from behind me.