Carved in Scars: A Dark High School Bully Romance by Elle Mitchell

Author:Elle Mitchell [Mitchell, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark & Stormy Books L.L.C.
Published: 2024-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

“Ineed to talk to you,” Devon tells me in art class on Friday morning. “After class. It’s important.”

I take in his anxious demeanor, the bags under his eyes, the way he taps his foot nervously under the table. He’s been this way for a few days now; we’ve barely talked at all, and it’s been eating away at me.

On top of that, Darci has been shutting me out and taking these little digs at me, and I’m not sure where it’s coming from. Mark has been home all week, and he and Grace have constantly fought with each other or me every night.

And I’ve been lying awake at night with my nerves misfiring, waiting for something bad to happen. That’s how Devon looks, too.

“Devon, what’s going on with you?”

“I’ll tell you before lunch,” he whispers. “Meet me in the locker room.”

“Are you going to break up with me?” I ask. “I’d rather just know right now. I can’t sit around for three more hours—”

“Ally, stop,” he says. “I’m not going to break up with you. Are you crazy?”

“You seem unhappy.”

“I am,” he says. “I’m completely fucking miserable, but that has nothing to do with you.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” I tell him.

“Relax,” he says. “It’s going to be fine.”

The space between art and lunch passes slowly, and when the bell rings after fourth period, I rush to the locker room, making it inside while the last gym class is still clearing out. I pretend I need something from my track bag, sifting through my things slowly until the last of them leave.

Ten minutes pass, then fifteen. I pace back and forth, checking my phone every minute, wondering how long I should wait here and if maybe Devon isn’t coming at all.

I feel a hand close around my arm, and I scream.

“Hey,” Devon says. “Hey, I’m sorry. That’s my fault. I snuck up on you. I forgot and—”

“Devon, what the hell is going on?”

“Get your bag out of your locker,” he says.

I put in the combination as he starts talking.

“Remember what I told you about the money? That I’d help you?”

“Yeah,” I say, removing the padlock. “You said you’d find someone who deserved it—like a Dexter version of stealing.”

“Okay, well…I did it.”

“What?”

He grabs the bag from my locker and then sets it on the floor. He glances over his shoulder before opening his own backpack, pulling out a manila envelope, and stuffing it into the side pocket of my bag.

“There’s $3500 in there,” he whispers. “Lock it up, then take it home and hide it.”

“What?” I ask. “Where did you get this?”

“From Parks,” he says. “He deserved it.”

“Oh my god, Devon.”

“It’s going to be okay, Ally. You don’t have to wait until October anymore. You don’t have to stay there. I know someone who can make you a fake ID—he’s legit, too; it’s what he does. I’m going to wire him the money after school, and he can have everything ready in two weeks.”

“Are you serious?!” I ask. “I can leave?”

He nods.

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