10. Shaun

Hastingslookslikehe’s walking on cloud nine, with the confident smirk he’s wearing that screams I’m invincible, and his shaggy blonde hair more ruffled than usual. If I had to analyse it, I’d say he looks well fucked.

“Fucking hell. This shit is getting out of hand.” Garrett grumbles next to me as he watches Simon swagger down the corridor with Rhys at his side.

Then I get this weird fucking feeling, right in the centre of my chest. I don’t know what the fuck it is, but I don’t fucking like it because surely it’s not… jealousy?

“First you, and now Hastings. Fucking hell. Marcus is going to flip.” Garrett adds before turning to his locker and slamming it shut.

“What? You think they…” I leave the sentence hanging when Garrett nods before I’ve even finished.

“Yep. He’s wearing the glow of someone that’s just lost his virginity. They went off together to ditch class. What else could his shit-eating grin be from?”

“What? Virginity? Simon’s not a virgin.” I scoff. Garrett has lost his mind.

“He’s not a virgin now.” Garrett turns to me with a ‘duh’ look on his expression, “but, before period five today, he was.”

“Nah, man. He fucked that cougar nurse in Melbourne. And what about those other chicks? He nailed them.”

Shaking his head, Garrett shoots me a look of pity. “Everyone assumed he nailed them. But he told me he didn’t. He’s had a couple of hand jobs, one blow job, and spent the rest of his time exploring chick’s bodies with his mouth and hands. That’s it.”

My brows knit together, and I glance back at Simon, watching the way he looks down at Rhys with affection. Then, he leans down and whispers something in her ear, and when he pulls back, she grins and shoots him a sexy fucking wink.

Motherfucker!

Turning back to my locker, I grab my bag out and slam it shut in time for Simon to approach us.

“Fellas. What’s cooking?” His cheesy grin is from ear to ear, highlighting the playfulness in his eyes. He almost looks drunk. Fucking hell. Gaz is right. Simon totally fucked Rhys.

“What did you and George get up to?” Garrett completely disregards Simon’s question, asking his own.

“Just ditched.” Simon shrugs like it’s nothing.

“Where?” Garrett grills him, and Simon doesn’t even pick up on the hostility in Cole’s voice. He’s too busy watching Rhys saunter past with Tillie.

“Photo lab,” Simon answers, returning his gaze to us.

“So, you lost your virginity in the photo lab?” Garrett deadpans, and Simon’s brows shoot up.

“Shhh, man!” He darts his head around to see if anyone heard. “You’ll ruin my rep if people realise I…” He leans in conspiratorially, “was a virgin this morning.”

“Fuck.” I can’t hold back the growl in my tone, like some possessive arse hole that I’m not.

Right?

“Fuck, man. What about Marcus?” Garrett hisses, and Simon flinches, his post-sex glow vanishing in an instant.

It’s kind of painful to stand here and witness the class clown as deep regret contorts his face. I know that regret. I also know how easy it was to forget about that regret once I was around Rhys again. If Hastings really did just have his first lay, then he shouldn’t feel like shit about it. Fuck Garrett Cole for making him feel that way.

“Hastings, man. I want all the deets later tonight. But before I go to detention, tell me one thing?” At my words, Simon’s playful fa?ade slowly eases back into place, his hazel eyes brightening in that typical Simon Hastings way. “Was it good?”

His grin turns into a blinding smile. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile like that before, and the fucker smiles all the damn time.

“If anyone ever says that something is better than sex, then they are either lying or haven’t boned Rhys George.” He tips his head back in a dramatic moan before dropping his eyes back to mine. “It was fucking epic.”

Throwing my head back, I laugh, happy to know he enjoyed his first time. Meanwhile, Gaz groans in frustration, shaking his head at the both of us. Simon doesn’t know what went down with Rhys and me, but Garrett does. I understand his reaction, but I struggle to remember why I should be reacting the same way. I’m pretty sure that makes me a fucked-up friend to Marcus. No. I know it makes me a fucked-up friend to Marcus. So why am I still eager as fuck to go to detention and see Rhys?

I leave Garrett and Simon by the lockers and head to the detention room, my eyes immediately seeking out those dark chocolate eyes and black lips that call to me like nothing else ever has. There are no seats left near Rhys, so I sit across the room from her so I can see her beautiful face while I take my phone out, opening up our messages.

Shaun Bossier

What did you and Simon get up to in

the photo lab?

I glance up and bite back my grin as I watch her glance at her phone screen and then up to me when she sees I’ve sent her a message. Rhys doesn’t hold back her smile, though. She flashes her white teeth at me before returning her eyes to her screen.

Rhys George

Oh, you know… Photo lab stuff.

Shaun Bossier

Sex is classed as photo lab stuff?

Rhys George

I don’t know what you mean.

I glance up to see her shooting me a sweet innocent look, fluttering her black lashes.

Shaun Bossier

Sure you do.

You and Shaun did the deed last period.

Rhys George

Casanova, you should know me better than that!

I don’t fuck and tell!

Shaun Bossier

You don’t need to tell me. I already know.

Rhys George

If we did, and I’m not saying we did,

does it make you jealous?

I can’t hold back my chuckle, but the detention teacher, who I’ve seen before but don’t remember his name, shoots me a glare that is meant to be threatening. It’s really not. Someone needs to tell him to work on that.

Before I can respond to Rhys’ message, Mr Foster, AKA fucking Skipper, walks into the room and speaks quietly with the teacher. A moment later, he glances up at the handful of students in the classroom serving their punishment.

“I need two volunteers to help me clean off some graffiti at the back of the stadium.”

Hands shoot up around me, and I glance at Rhys to see that, like me, she hasn’t got her hand up.

“Right, let me torture the two who couldn’t be bothered volunteering. Mr Bossier. Miss George. Come with me.”

Rhys rolls her eyes dramatically and groans, moving sluggishly like he really is torturing her. Fuck, she’s a good little actress. I’ll have to remember that.

Mr Foster holds the door open as I follow Rhys out, and we walk in silence as Mr F leads us to the stadium, through the empty courts, and onto the upper level into his office. Closing the door after we enter, he flicks the lock and draws the blind, leaving me to wonder how many times he’s done this. Does he bring all his prey to his office and lock the doors to take advantage of them?

Anger swirls in my gut, reminding me of the fucked-up situation I’m in. Last night, I watched a man, an adult, fuck Rhys, who is only seventeen, in front of an audience. Sure, I didn’t know it was my fucking PE teacher at the time, and I let myself think the situation was ok. But now that I know Skipper, Kitten’s sponsor for Vixen’s Lodge, is Mr Foster, I’m struggling big time to see how she is ok with this.

“Calm down and take a seat, Casanova, before you blow a gasket.” Mr Foster growls, taking in the anger reddening my face.

Rhys flicks a glance at me and rolls her eyes, plopping down lazily in one of the chairs in front of Mr Foster’s desk.

“Chill Bossi. You’re directing your hostility at the wrong person.” Rhys sits back in the chair like she doesn’t have a care in the world, and I watch as she directs her eyes to Mr Foster. They stare at each other for a few moments like a silent conversation passes between them.

With reluctance, I sit my arse in the chair next to Rhys and turn my eyes to Mr Foster as he eases into his chair behind the desk. He doesn’t look at me. His eyes remain on Rhys, so I glance back at her. I don’t know why I thought she didn’t have a care in the world, though, because right now, the typically well composed, fun-loving girl I know has her eyes trained on her fidgeting fingers in her lap, looking like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Shit. It reminds me of last night and the way she looked while she was forced into a conversation with Master Hill in the corner of his den. It was hard to tell exactly what her expressions were with the pretty skull that painted her face, but her eyes couldn’t lie. She was worried last night, and she carries that same worry now.

“You want me to tell him?” Mr Foster asks Rhys, his deep voice cutting through the silence of his office.

She shakes her head, not looking up, taking a few deep breaths while her mind mulls over something I’m not yet privy to. It seems like she is struggling to say what needs to be said, so instead, I ask a question.

“Why am I directing my hostility at the wrong person?”

Finally, those chocolate eyes glance up through the thick fan of her lashes to look at me. It’s even clearer now how anxious she is about telling me. This is very un-Rhys-like.

“Tyler isn’t the predator in this room, Shaun. I am.”

My frown is so intense it almost hurts as I take in her words. She’s the predator? What?

Rhys can clearly see the confusion written across my expression, and she bites the inside of her cheek, fighting off a smirk.

“I’m gonna tell you a little story, Bossi. After you hear it, your opinion of me will change. Most likely, you’ll keep your distance, which is understandable. But you will understand the situation, and you will understand that Tyler is not taking advantage of me and that what happened last night was a huge sacrifice on his part.”

I’m still confused, but I don’t say anything as I think over what she just said. I doubt that my opinion of Rhys could change so much that I’d want to keep my distance from her.

“Before I came to this school a couple of years ago, I went to Redfield High, where my foster mum was the principal at the time. She knew about my past when she fostered me, which, by the way, will not be involved in this conversation. She also knew I was already promiscuous, even at that young age. What she didn’t know is that I preferred older conquests. Mainly because guys my age at the time knew nothing about giving me pleasure, only taking it. It was all about getting themselves off, which was usually very bloody fast.” She smirks smugly, and I can’t help but feel my own lips quirk. “I set my sights on two of my Redfield teachers. I figured out how to manipulate them before they realised it was happening, and I got what I wanted. What I was looking for. Each of them didn’t know about the other. One a male, one a female. My experiences with them went on for a number of months before Cin caught on.”

Rhys returns her eyes to her lap momentarily, like she is falling back into a memory.

“Knowing my past, Cin went against all her morals and covered it up. She asked the teachers to leave quietly and look for employment elsewhere, and she withdrew me from Redfield and sent me here. The terms she laid out to me for not getting punished were simple. Don’t mess with any more teachers, and she will allow me more social freedoms to explore new friendships. That’s what she calls the people I fuck. Friendships. As long as I’m safe and not getting into trouble, then she’s happy.”

My mouth is hanging open a little, but I snap it shut when she looks back up at me. I don’t know what she just told me has to do with what’s going on here, but that’s a pretty damning revelation. She had sexual relationships with two of her teachers at her old school. Her foster mum found out and sent her here. And she’s also cool with Rhys fucking people. It sounds weird as fuck, but for some reason, I know there is more to the story as to why her foster mum would allow that. It probably has everything to do with her past and what she said she won’t talk about.

Fucking hell! What happened to her?

“Anyway, let’s fast forward to what’s relevant to this situation.” Her tone perks up a little, “As you know, I like sex parties. The ones I used to go to were nothing more than orgies arranged by immature guys who wanted to use women and even humiliate them instead of sharing the pleasure and experience. I quickly learned that older guys were better, hence my sights on my Redfield teachers, so I started looking for sex parties that were more mature. I managed to talk one married couple into taking me to one of their swinger’s nights, which was pretty fucking amazing, I might add, and after that, I just knew there had to be more parties that would be classier like that. More my style, just without all the married couples.

I found some in the city, but it was hard trying to explain to Cin why I wanted to go to the city all the time. Even though she gave me some freedoms, I wasn’t about to admit that I go to sex parties with adults. The ones in the city also cost a lot to join, so it got tricky. Then one night, when I was in Redfield at The Railway Bar, a drunk guy was whining about being kicked out of some exclusive sex club. The hundred bucks I spent filling his veins with alcohol was worth it because he spilled all the juicy details.”

Her grin is broad as she looks between Mr Foster and me. “Vixen’s Lodge Feast Nights. Exclusive. Expensive. And anonymous. Exactly what I was looking for. I found out where it was and who Master Hill and his wife were. The only thing I couldn’t figure out was how to get into the club. I didn’t have the membership fee, and the fact that I was fifteen at the time should have been another reason, but it wasn’t. You see, this guy told me that they are known to have minors there. They get in by sponsorship, and even though everyone knows they are underage, no one addresses it. They all pretend like it doesn’t happen. The guy told me that their old princess had come of age a couple of years ago, and they hadn’t replaced her because of him. He had threatened to expose them unless they let him do some freaky thing, which he never told me about, and I have a feeling it’s something I wouldn’t want to know. Anyway, apparently, Master Hill got some dirt on him and used it to buy his silence and kick him out. Not that the idiot was silent that night.

So, I was left with needing to find a sponsor to introduce me to them. Then, one day after class, I came up to Mr Foster’s desk to hand in my work, and I noticed a message pop up on his phone. He didn’t know that I saw it at the time since he was busy with one of the other kids, but I saw the message from ‘The Lodge’, and it read, here is confirmation of your booking at tonight’s Feast.”

Rhys glances up at Mr Foster now, but he has his eyes cast down, staring at his lap.

“Changed my message settings after that day so no little fuckers can read my messages when they pop up.” His voice is a low grumble, and he looks nothing like the authority figure of my PE teacher.

“You see, Bossi. This is how I got in.” She points to Mr Foster. “I cornered him in this very office. I told him I knew about the Feast Nights. I told him I wanted in and that he was going to be my sponsor. When he said no, I told him about my past at Redfield and that if he doesn’t be my sponsor, I will tell Cynthia that I am having sex with him.”

That’s when I see it. Regret. Disgust. She hates herself for doing it. The remorse is only there for a moment on her face, but I see it plain as day before she masks it again.

“I am the predator here, Shaun. I blackmailed him until he said yes. I even doctored some provocative photos that look like him and me together. That’s why he finally caved. He didn’t want to say yes. He didn’t want me to go to the place he openly fucks people. And until last night, he hasn’t even touched me, even when I begged him to.”

“You begged him to touch you?” I can’t hide the surprise in my tone.

“I begged him to fuck me. You saw him rail that chick in the spa last night. Why the hell wouldn’t I want some of that?” Rhys rolls her eyes at me like I should know better. The whole thing sounds a little too fucked up for what I’m used to. Does it make me want to run from her, though? No. No, it doesn’t.

“Jesus Christ.” Mr Foster rakes a frustrated hand over his face before tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling.

“But you were so conflicted last night, before you two…” I can’t even say the words now that I’m face to face with Skipper, with no mask to hide his identity.

“I was conflicted because I know he never wanted to go there with me. Tyler has morals, even though it probably doesn’t seem like it, given the situation. He agreed to be my sponsor on the condition I stay away from him sexually.”

I scoff, “I saw you last night by the spa, Kitten. You were teasing the fuck out of him. I’m pretty sure the only reason he blew his load with that chick was because he was watching you.”

Mr Foster growls, but Rhys shrugs and grins. “I never agreed not to be a brat. It’s his fault for not being more specific when we made the agreement.”

I glance back at Mr Foster, waiting for him to add his opinion, but he doesn’t speak, his blue eyes dark as they remain fixed on Rhys. He can claim that he has morals all he likes, but that fucker likes her. He enjoyed fucking her last night, and I bet he’s thinking about that right now, too. It should creep me out, but it doesn’t. They may have stepped over a line last night, but he didn’t do that without her best interests at heart, no matter how fucked up it sounds.

“I eavesdropped on some of the conversation you guys had with Master Hill last night, but at the time, I didn’t understand what he was blackmailing you with. Now I get it.” I feel both their eyes turn to me, and I see a little of the tension drop from Mr Foster’s shoulders. I don’t understand everything, but Master Hill must know Skipper is Kitten’s school teacher. He forced them to do something they had been avoiding, and now he can hold that over their heads. But why?

“So now you know. Tyler isn’t the predator here. I blackmailed and manipulated him into doing something he didn’t want to do. He was tougher to crack than most people, which is why I had to resort to the threat of releasing photoshopped images. All he’s guilty of is trying to save his own arse.”

Rhys stands then, brushing her hand over her skirt before bending to pick up her school bag. She avoids my eyes as she walks past, beelining for the door, but stops with her hand on the knob to glance back at me.

“It’s what I do, Bossi. I manipulate people into thinking they want to have sex with me. Just ask Simon. He’ll think it was his idea, but we both know it wasn’t. When he went into the photo lab with me, he honestly thought we were going to hang out and hide. He had no intention of doing anything sexual with me, let alone lose his virginity to me.”

“Christ, I don’t want to hear this!” Mr Foster hisses, but Rhys ignores him, her eyes sad but her voice strong.

“It was easy, really. He made a joke about intimate lighting, and I agreed like it was a joke, asking him if he wanted to take his clothes off. Just like that, I insert an idea in his head. Naturally, because guys have a one-tracked mind, and the blood was probably already rushing to his dick at the mention of removing clothes, he pushed to see if I was serious. He acted gentlemanly, saying ladies first, hoping we were both on the same page.”

Her tone is steady and serious, and while I don’t need details on what happened between her and Simon, I know there’s a reason she’s telling me.

“It was perfect because I knew how much he likes playing games, so I used that to my advantage and suggested a game of removing an article of clothing for an article of clothing. That’s the hook. He took it willingly, even though he was still unsure if I was being serious. Simon reminded me of how he likes party games that involve getting naked, and that’s the point where he thinks he’s the one who suggested it. He thought it was his idea, and when I went along with it, and the game began, he took over. That’s when I knew my manipulation worked.”

“Isn’t that just normal flirting, though?” I ask because it sounds like it to me.

She shrugs, “It has that element, but the thing you need to remember is that he didn’t go to that room wanting to fuck me. I, on the other hand, only took him to that room because I was horny and needed a fuck. He was never going to leave that room without getting me off. He thinks he wanted it, and I’m sure he did because what guy doesn’t want to dip their dick in a chick? But if he had a choice of who his first root would be, I can assure you, Rhys George wouldn’t have made the cut.”

With that, she unlocks the door and exits the room so fast that I barely have time to register it. I dart my eyes back to Mr Foster, who looks concerned, a frown creasing his brow.

“Of course, she would have been on Simon’s list. She didn’t manipulate him.” I spit, anger fuelling my words.

“Kid. I know that, and you know that, but Rhys George doesn’t know that. Her currency is sex. She struggles to believe anyone actually likes her if something sexual hasn’t been exchanged.” Mr Foster stands from his chair and gestures to the door. An unspoken fuck off out of his office.

“But… Why?”

“Everyone has their demons. My guess is it has something to do with her past. But that’s not our business.” Mr Foster adds as I approach the door.

“What is our business, then?” Because fuck, this is a lot, and I know she thinks I’m going to think differently of her after her revelation, but I don’t. If I am feeling any differently, it’s more like I want to run to her, not away from her. Something I don’t fucking understand for the simple fact that I’m a one fuck and then move on type of guy.

“Well, if she’s someone you want in your life, then you gotta protect her.” Mr Foster shoots me a pointed look. “Be there for when she falls because it will happen one day. And honestly, with her erratic behaviour lately, I have a feeling that day isn’t too far away.”