My spine snaps straight at her sneering voice.
“Speak for yourself, Nina.” Trent from the soccer team slings his arm over her shoulders. She sticks her huge boobs out more, like a proud peacock. Trent takes me in with a sweep of his eyes that makes my skin crawl. “I’d like to see her in the cheer uniform. And then I’d like to see it on my floor.”
Gag. To guys like Trent, the women around him are nothing but objects for him to ogle.
“Can you do a split, Davis?” Trent leans into my space. “How flexible are you?”
Ignoring them becomes impossible. “Get lost, Trent,” I bite out. “Or I’ll show you exactly how high I can kick.”
When he doesn’t move, calling my bluff, I raise my brows to drive home my threat. Holding up his hands, he backs up a step.
Nina surveys me with a narrowed gaze, tipping her chin up. She seems to have found some begrudging respect for me standing up to Trent’s shit.
“There’s no way you’re good enough for the squad,” Nina drawls. “Pick another pathetic way to get Devlin’s attention.”
I roll my eyes. “I have no plans to become a cheerleader.”
Scrunching her face in annoyance, Nina flips her hair over her shoulder and struts down the hall with her big rack stuck out.
I snatch the Silver Lake High cheer uniform from my locker before anyone else sees it, balling the material up in front of me. A crisp note on thick, fancy paper sticks out of the neckline. Hunching over the bundle, I read the message.
Change into this for the rest of the day for $1000 plus a $2500 bonus to cheer from the sidelines of today’s soccer practice. Give me a big kiss on the field when we’re done, and really sell it, or you earn nothing.
My heart stumbles over a beat and I suck in a breath so fast my throat burns. Is he insane? Yes, I remind myself. He’s an unhinged psychopath. My pain is his pleasure.
Somehow this is way worse than dumping water on myself or being known to the school as his trained dog. This is an actual nightmare. I can’t blend in wearing this. It paints a target on my back, turning me into a big green beacon of false school spirit that will draw the attention of every single gnat in this school.
Bending to his cruel pranks was awful, but this is an all new low. This is the last thing I would ever do. Probably the precise reason he picked it.
I roll my lips between my teeth, blinking in time with my rapidly beating pulse. The blood rushes in my ears, muffling the sound in the hall. All I hear is the steady throb, throb, throb in my eardrums.
These tasks are escalating. Devlin is offering more money, but the things he demands are becoming increasingly difficult to complete.
I’m selling everything to Devlin, even my soul.
I work through his possible motive like a puzzle to solve. What will he gain from making me put myself on display? Why does he want me to kiss him?
It has to be another one of his ruthless mind games.
My pride screams at me. Is this worth it?
I close my eyes and draw in a fortifying breath. It has to be. For Mom.
With my hands shaking from how much I want to punch him, I shut my locker and go to put on the cheerleading uniform.
Eighteen
Blair
The worst part about spending an entire day in a skimpy cheer skirt and sleeveless vest that exposes a strip of my stomach isn’t that I wouldn’t be caught dead in it otherwise. It’s the way it changes how everyone looks at me. There’s nowhere to hide from it, either.
None of my teachers care that I’m breaking dress code, not for the sake of school spirit. Mr. Coleman even squeezed my shoulder and told me he was glad to see me getting involved.
Girls are annoyed, and I don’t think it’s simply because the uniform doesn’t look bad on me—I checked for a whole fifteen minutes in the bathroom this morning before I worked up the courage to brave homeroom. I’m guessing it has to do with the way every guy in school can’t take their eyes off me. Including Devlin.
His dark gaze is an inescapable curse against my skin.
The leers of the guys follow me all day.
Lunch was excruciating, sitting at my table by the window in plain view of Devlin’s smug expression as he ruled over his court at the center table.
My skin felt too tight, suffocating me as I smothered the urge to squirm under his gaze. He drank in the sight of me in a way that made my heart pound.
The day only went downhill from there. Someone taped a sign to my locker that said Give me a D! I! C! K! with a crudely drawn penis next to a sad stick figure cheerleader. In my history class, the girl that sits behind me was watching some stupid TikTok video that turned out to feature me being rated fuckable now that I stopped being “all goth and shit” by some sleazy underclassmen twerps.
It’s a nightmare, but I’ll weather anything for the amount of money Devlin promised.
At the end of the day, the walk to the soccer field for the practice match is both a relief and its own drawn out torture.
I tug on the hem of the skirt. It’s shorter than the school uniform and I am so not wearing the right underwear. I clamp my palms against my thighs, trapping the skirt when a breeze threatens to expose me.
There are other people hanging out on the sidelines as the soccer team stretches for warm up. I pause a few feet away. Sometimes a few girls watch practice, I used to see them during track, but not this many. They all turn to me, eyeing me up and down.
Their judgement is obvious as they whisper to each other.
The urge to sprint to the tree line and pick up the trail that winds through the pines grips me. I’m seconds from springing into action when strong arms wrap around my waist from behind, enveloping me in a familiar masculine scent. Devlin.
“There you are,” Devlin murmurs into my hair. I stiffen as he tickles the bare strip of skin where the uniform doesn’t cover my stomach. “Hmm, having you dressed this way certainly improves my motivation. Cheer me on so we win our practice match. Nice and loud—and remember it’s spelled d-e-v-i-l.”
I can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re twisted,” I breathe.
His chuckle is dark and smoky, traveling down my neck and drawing a shudder from me. That sound should be illegal. I struggle not to clap a hand over my tingling neck.
“You have no idea, little thief.”
The girls along the sideline glare in our direction. I’m treading all over their territory simply by being here. Devlin’s teammates on the field smirk.
“You all owe me fifty bucks,” Bishop calls from the center, his arms stretched overhead as he bends.
A round of groans sound from the other players. Great, now they’re betting on something they know nothing about. They probably think Devlin and I are some weird thing.
I have a few steamy books in my paperback collection. I’m familiar with the idea of hate turning into love. Bullshit. Not in our case.
“Why are you making me do this?” I hiss. “What messed up satisfaction is this giving you? And—the other thing you want?”
Devlin’s arms tighten around my waist. He nudges me forward and I walk awkwardly with him wrapped around me.
“Because.” His voice is hard next to my ear. “I want to make you squirm for me.”