Tough Shit (Rejects Paradise 1)

“Where are my fucking clothes?” I demand, forcing myself not to cry.

Colton slowly turns and as he takes me in, his brow raises in surprise and it hits me, this wasn’t him. Anger pulses through his hazel eyes and I wonder if this has something to do with Spencer’s comment this morning about me being Colton’s to fuck around with. If that’s true and Colton declared me his to fuck with, then someone has gone against their king. Right now, I couldn’t give a shit. Right now, I just want my fucking clothes and to get the hell out of here.

I feel like a fucking rabbit among a thousand hungry foxes. There’s no way I’m going to get out of this alive.

Colton studies my body, letting his eyes lazily drag up and down, silently reminding me that he has all the power here. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but it sounds as though you need to take better care of your belongings.”

“I know you know who did it.”

“Of course I fucking know who did it,” he says, stepping forward and crossing into my personal space like he had last night. Though last night felt somewhat intimate, this just feels all kinds of wrong. His voice lowers, only for me to hear. “I told you, if it’s a war you wanted, then it’s a war you’ll get. You’re not already backing out, are you? What a shame. I thought you had a little more fight in you. I haven’t even had a chance to really humiliate you yet.”

“Look at me, Colton. I’m standing in the middle of a fucking all-boys school in nothing but a towel. There’s nothing you can do to me that’s going to make me crack. I’m seeing this through.”

I look over Colton’s shoulder at Jude who’s watching through narrowed eyes. I know it was him, after this morning’s bullshit, it’s fucking clear as day. “Did you think I was going to fold into a ball and cry on the bathroom floor until someone came to find me? Fucking weak. You want to make me look like a little bitch for not being able to walk through those doors in nothing but a towel, but the only bitch I see around here is you. You failed,” I tell him. “Again. Who steals a woman’s clothes anyway? That’s so fucking lame. You’re playing with the big kids now, Jude. If you plan on making an impression, then I’d suggest you up your game.”

“Get out of my fucking way,” A demanding voice cuts through the crowd, making me glance over my shoulder to see the top of Milo’s head as he shoves and pushes his way through the gathered bodies. “Where the fuck is she?”

Milo breaks free of the crowd and almost falls when he reaches the center, but as he sees me standing here in nothing but a towel, his protective side comes out and for once I’m actually grateful for it. “Who the fuck did this?” he demands, glaring around the circle and coming to the same conclusion I had as he stops on Jude. “You’re going to go down for this.”

Jude scoffs, his lips pulling up in a sneer. “Fuck off, Rinaldi. This has nothing to do with you.”

“She’s my fucking friend and you just tried to humiliate her in front of five hundred horny teenage boys. What’s your fucking game?” he demands, peeling off his shirt and handing it back to me. “You couldn’t follow through on your sick plan to attack her last night so you hoped someone else would do it today? You’re fucking pathetic, man. Grow the fuck up.”

Jude launches forward and the closer he gets, the clearer his bruises become. “I told you to stay the fuck out of it,” Jude snarls as Milo grabs my arm and tugs me away from Colton’s cold glare.

“Or what?” Milo scoffs. “You can’t fucking touch me and you know it. So what else could you possibly do? You’ve backed yourself into a corner. Are you going to go run to Daddy and hope he can help? But remember, to do that, you’d have to tell him exactly what it is you did.”

Fury ripples over Jude’s features and I watch as Charlie and Spencer subtly move in by his side, ready to hold him back if he plans on fucking shit up. “Oceania Munroe,” my name is hollered, somehow heard loudly over the noise. I glance around and within moments, the crowd starts to part.

Dean Simmons walks through the bodies and when he reaches the front of the circle, he stares at me with a dangerous glare. “Get in my office now.”

Well shit.

Chapter 9

Milo steps to the left, blocking Dean Simmons’ view of me and quickly grabs his shirt from my hand as students begin scattering away. He bunches the shirt in his hands, finding the opening before slipping it over my head so I don’t have to take my hands off the towel and risk it dropping to the ground in front of all these guys.