I'm Your Bully (Bully Book Series 1)

BOOK: I'm Your Bully (Bully Book Series 1)
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I’m Your Bully

By

Andrea Tyse

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m Your Bully

Bully Series
book 1

By Andrea Tyse

Published by Andrea Tyse for Kindle.

Copyright @ 2014 Andrea Tyse

Editor - Veronica Hardy - [email protected]

[email protected]

https://www.facebook.com/andrea.tyse.1

www.absent-of-light.com

Cover photo used with permission of

Cathleen Tarawhiti at https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cathleen-Tarawhiti-Photographer/95878166172

All characters are fictitious.  Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.  All sexually active characters are 18 years of age and older.  This book is for adult audiences only.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Emma Benton walked down the street with a sense of foreboding.  His car was in the driveway. 

 

Slowing her step, Emma debated if she should go around the block the other way so she didn't have to chance a meeting with her childhood nemesis and tormentor, Jax Corbin. 

 

I'm not going to let him bully me anymore, she thought even as her stomach started to churn.  

 

Emma squared her shoulders and marched down the sidewalk, determination in her stride.  She wasn’t even going to look out of the corner of her eye to see if the jerk was outside. 

             

High school was long over and Emma was used to seeing Jax less and less.  The gossip she heard at work said he was attending a local college.  Emma had been nothing but pleased the day she had seen Jax packing his old Chevelle to the roof when he’d moved just weeks after graduation.

 

Still stuck at home, Emma hadn’t been as lucky.

 

She’d seen Jax rarely since then and only when he visited his parents who lived next door. Considered that a miracle.  Lately, however, she’d spotted his car parked in their driveway more often than not. 

 

The other thing she’d noticed, Jax was acting strange.  Almost every day in the last two weeks she’d seen Jax lazily leaning against one of the pillars on his parent’s porch as he silently watched her walk by.  He never said anything to her. It made her nervous. Jax’s gaze was intense.  Emma would hurry, feeling the weight of his brooding stare.

 

Every time she saw Jax’s car in the driveway, Emma immediately went on alert.  A history of mean pranks and overall dickish behavior from Jax had taught Emma well. 

 

He was bad news. 

 

Emma was going to do what she always did around Jax, pretend he wasn’t there. 

 

Tired from working all day as a checker at a local grocery store, Emma couldn’t wait to get home and crash. She had been working at the store since she was sixteen trying to help support herself and her father. Emma had been thrilled when she was offered the full time position when she graduated.  She was lucky to have her job as many people were struggling worse than she was. 

 

She didn’t have time or the inclination to deal with Jax today. 

 

Besides, Emma reasoned she was sure her dad had probably spent all day getting drunk after he’d stolen $50 bucks from her purse this morning.  If she was lucky he was already passed out in front of the TV.  At least she hoped that was the case.  Emma could feel her lips twisting in a wry expression.  She wasn’t sure it was healthy to actually wish someone was drunk rather than to deal with them. 

 

Living with her father was hard. He’d been unemployed from the economic down turn for years.  On the best of days he was a drunk. On the worst of days he was an abusive prick that she tried to stay away from.  Her job often called her in for double shifts to avoid hiring more people, which was fine with her. The more money she had saved up the less time she had to be around her dad, and the faster she could get out of this town.

 

The woman who had given birth to Emma had been out of the picture for years.  Her mother had packed her bags before Emma had even formed memories of her. The bitter man her father turned into had never gotten over the betrayal of his wife leaving him for someone else.  He often used her mother’s behavior as a way to punish Emma. It seemed pointless to rant about someone who had been gone for almost two decades but her dad obviously didn’t feel the same.  Her father had been a strict believer that only corporal punishment would keep Emma from following in her mother’s footsteps.  It all just seemed absurd. 

 

Secretly Emma thought her mom had the right idea, to get out of this town any way possible. Eventually, Emma told herself, she would get out of this town too, away from her dad. And from Jax.   

             

Emma’s thoughts otherwise occupied, she reached Jax's parents house and almost made it past the driveway when cold water slapped her shoulder and face, soaking her white blouse and jeans.  Shrieking she turned to see Jax standing next to his car, leaning against the door.  A green garden hose dangled between his fingers and a smirk shaped his lips.  Two of his buddies were laughing behind him.  Emma had been so focused on getting to her front door that she hadn’t noticed Jax and his friends come outside until way too late, otherwise she would have definitely gone the other way around the block.

 

Well over six feet, Jax towered over his friends. He had always been a tall kid in school, but the last couple of years he’d really shot up.  Not only did he get taller but wider and more muscular through the shoulders and chest.  He was drool worthy in high school, now he was all male, broadly built with thick muscles that made his black band t-shirt stretch over his big frame.  Jax had let his jet black hair grow longer since school and it framed his beautiful face, a face that easily belonged on the cover of a magazine and a rock hard body that Emma had heard more than one girl talk of how temping it was.  Besides partying with his friends and sleeping with the entire female population of their high school, he had made her life a living hell.   

 

Jax had been mean to other kids in school but he picked on Emma relentlessly.  Done things like telling people she smelled funny, spilled milk on her in the lunch line, and even gone as far as putting a wad of gum in her hair.  She’d run home crying to her daddy with the back of her hair all wadded up against her skull.  Somehow, all her hair had gotten wrapped up with that one piece of chewing gum.  Emma remembered how scared she was when her daddy had cut her hair off with dull scissors.  For months afterward Jax had called her “Uggie” Emma, which the other kids loved to chant at her at recess. Unfortunately “Uggie” Emma had stuck, and from school to school she carried the nickname all thanks to Jax and his antics.  None of it made sense to Emma.  She wasn’t mean, didn’t pick on people, but had been the target of bullies, like Jax, most of her childhood. If she had been mean to Jax she could have understood, but she hadn’t been.    

 

This has to stop.  Emma had no idea how to make him leave her alone, he was in college now and she had a full time job.  Why couldn’t he stop with all the dumb games, like trying to creep her out staring at her from his porch?  Emma had thought since he’d moved away maybe he’d grown up a little bit. 

 

Obviously she was wrong, Emma thought as she lifted wet limp hair off her face to glare at Jax. 

 

She’d tried to ignore him, but it only made him worse, apparently Jax wanted her attention.  She had formed an opinion years ago that not only was Jax a mean kid, but he had turned into an arrogant mean spirited man.  No matter how hot he thought he was to Emma he was ugly.                 

 

 

             
"Oh hey, Em,” Jax called out to her, "didn't see you there.  I was about to wash my car."  He started to laugh when his buddies began to howl behind him.  Emma could bet there wasn't a soap bucket anywhere to be found and his car was dry as a bone.

             

"Look dude, who knew ugly little Emma had big titties!" Paul Trent crowed. Paul was one of Jax's favorite cronies, holding his hands cupped out in front of him like he was juggling two big melons.

             

Emma looked down quickly to see that her shirt was completely soaked in the front. The white transparent material caused her equally white bra to reveal the shape of her breasts, and her nipples strained against the material because of the cold.  Making a sound of disgust, she grabbed the front of her shirt and scowled at the boys.  She always wore loose clothing to hide her figure.  She didn't like it when boys paid attention to her, because it was almost always negative calling her ugly. 

             

The blast of water had knocked Emma’s glasses off her face, and she had no idea where they had gone.  She began to look around for them as best as she could with her slightly blurred vision when her father called her name. 

 

"Emma, get your ass in here!"  His voice was angry and slurred. In her fuzzy vision she could see he held a can of beer in one hand and the old screen door open with the other.  Emma inwardly cringed at the condition of her house as she stood soaking wet on the sidewalk. The paint on the house was peeling off in huge dusty flakes and the screen door her Daddy was holding open had a rusty dent in the bottom where he had kicked it in a drunken stupor.  

 

Shooting Jax an evil look Emma ran past him to her house.  She would get her glasses later. 

 

Her father slammed the door behind her and screamed, “What the fuck were you doing talking to those boys?  You’re just like your mother, do anything for a little attention!” 

 

Trying to get out of his way, he managed to grab Emma’s blouse, ripping the front of it, and slapped her hard.  The feeling of her lip splitting as her teeth cut her lip stunned Emma momentarily before she lurched away. 

 

"Get your ugly face up stairs,” Daddy yelled as he let her go. “I don't want to see you."  Emma took the chance to escape running up the worn stairs to her to room. 

             

Emma didn't cry anymore.  It never helped, never made her feel better.  She figured when she was free of this place then she would sit down in her new home and have a good cry over the past, but right now she couldn’t afford to let her feelings rule her.  She had her plan, knew her future and she wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself now. 

 

Instead Emma got busy, and went for the small stack of books in the corner of her room.  She grabbed the hidden stash of cash in her favorite book, and counted it again.  Emma pulled a ten dollar bill from her back pocket glad that it was still dry, and gently placed it in the folds of the book like a delicate flower to be pressed between the pages.  It was only a few hundred dollars but once Emma had six months of savings squirreled away, she was leaving.  Taking care of Daddy was getting harder and harder.  He was drunk more often than not, seeming to punish her for trying so hard to keep them financially afloat.  Emma’s successes made him angry, like she was intentionally working to make him feel like a failure instead of trying to keep the house from being foreclosed on.

 

              Emma sighed and thought life can't stay this hard forever.  It had to be better somewhere.  Settling onto her bed, she gently probed her chin and mouth with a fingertip.  Her lip was a little puffy, but it had stopped bleeding.  Emma would’ve liked to have gotten a cold compress from the bathroom but didn't want to chance another run in with her dad.  She gazed up at the ceiling and day dreamed about a world where Jax and her father didn't exist.

 

 

+

 

Jax reached out and slid open Emma’s window.  Luckily for him it had been unlocked. The paint on the old house was peeling and little flakes of the stuff came off on his hands when he let the window go.  Jax dusted his hands off on his pant leg and looked into the room as he sat on the sill.  It had to be near 2 AM and the room was dark and quiet. He hadn’t been able to see any lights on in the house when he had silently approached the tree near her window.  You couldn't live next door to a girl for ten years without knowing instinctively which window was hers.  Thankfully the old tree that partially undermined the house also had a series of branches that reached right up to her window. 

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