The Hills: A High School Bully Romance (Richland Heights High Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Hills

  Copyright

  No Regrets

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  About This Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

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  The Hills

  Richland Heights High Series

  Book 1

  Copyright

  First Edition, September 2019

  Copyright © 2019 by Adele Niles

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations are the product of the author's imagination.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  License

  This book is available exclusively on Amazon.com. If you found this book for free or from a site other than an Amazon.com country specific website it means the author was not compensated for this book and you have likely obtained this book through an unapproved distribution channel.

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  About This Book

  Choices.

  Sometimes you make them.

  Sometimes they are made for you.

  My secret is out and it wasn’t my choice.

  They all know what he did to me.

  And no one seems to care.

  The b*tches bullies of Richland Heights High are ruthless.

  This time I won’t run.

  I won’t hide.

  You’re either one of them, The Hills, or one of the others, The Furies.

  The problem is, I don’t fit in with either, and they both want me.

  I’m trouble for them both.

  They want to control me. To use me.

  That’s a choice they will all regret.

  This is book two of The Richland Heights High series. It contains adult language and adult situations with characters that are 17+. It also contains some sensitive scenes. There are bullies, bad boys, heroines and heroes. This series is a mix of Riverdale, Pretty Little Liars and Mean Girls, with a touch of Sons of Anarchy.

  It is set in the fictional town of Richland where The No Regrets Ink series is also located. You can see overlapping locations and characters throughout these books. Check out the No Regrets Ink series as well.

  Chapter One

  Lawson

  Even though my mother hasn’t said it, I feel like it’s all my fault. Somehow, it always is. Maybe that’s why people keep leaving me. I may be beautiful on the outside but inside, I’m a mess. A Tasmanian devil of emotions that rip me at the seams every single day.

  Today has been the worst.

  I kick back on the worn-out couch and prop my feet up on the box labeled Living Room.

  I’m not ready for this, even though I should be. She hasn’t been much of a mother to me anyway, and this just proves it.

  “You know, you can help,” Mom blurts out as she sucks a big swig from the beer that had been resting on the corner of the counter. Before she can put it down, Greghole grabs it from her and finishes it off.

  Greghole. That’s my name for Mom’s boyfriend. She doesn’t like it, but it’s fitting.

  “Yeah, why don’t you grab that box your feet are on and move it out to the truck?” He doesn’t even look at me, at least not while Mom is around. When she’s not, I can feel his small beady eyes studying every curve of my body.

  I feel dirty just thinking about it.

  “I have my own stuff to pack,” I say as I push the box closer toward him with my feet.

  “Bitch,” he whispers.

  “Asshole,” I say back, more than loud enough for my mother to hear.

  She shoots me a scathing stare and grabs the empty bottle, attempting to take another swig and realizes it’s empty. She plays it off, so she doesn’t look stupid or show what an inconsiderate asshole her boyfriend is after having taken the last sip.

  When I saw Mom packing last week, I thought he was moving out. Finally leaving us. That’s when she dropped the news she was leaving, too, with Greg.

  Me? I was staying behind. I’m not part of her plans anymore. I haven’t been for the last three years. Ever since she and my dad split up and we moved to Malone, West Virginia. But it’s been worse since I turned eighteen.

  “You’re an adult, act like it,” Mom would say. Like it was a privilege to be an adult and still in high school.

  It had taken me three years to finally build up a nice friend circle here in Malone.

  I had a boyfriend. I had good friends. I had a life.

  Now I get to return to Richland, the town I was basically exiled from, and live with the dad I’ve only seen a handful of times since we moved here.

  I grab the pillow from the arm of the couch and hug it in close. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes, and I struggle to fight them off. I’m better than this.

  Mom drops the empty beer bottle in the trash bag and walks over, taking a seat next to me. “Awe, baby, it’s going to be okay. This is a good thing. Greg has a great opportunity for work in Ohio… and I love him. I have to go with him.”

  “But what about me? I’m your freaking kid.” The tears fill up in my eyes, blurring my vision before they finally race down my face.

  “You’re eighteen,” Mom says as she puts her hand on my knee and squeezes it.

  “Seriously, with the fucking waterworks?” Greg says as he comes into the apartment to grab another box. He rolls his eyes as he leaves, and I can hear him muttering under his breath.

  “What do you actually see in him?”

  “He’s loyal, and he loves me.” Mom squeezes my knee harder and fakes a smile. “Baby, this is all going to work out. This way, you get to see your old friends at Richland Heights, and you get to see your father. Give him the chance to be the dad he hasn’t been for the last three years. We’re just going to be the next state over. Forty-five minutes away. You can come and visit me and Greg anytime you want.”

  That isn’t happening. None of it.

  I don’t want to see the people from Richland Heights. They aren’t my friends. They proved that three years ago. And Dad, well, I chose not to see him. At least when he was available to see me. He was always traveling for work, whatever that was. He did do a great job of sending money every month.

  Child support and spousal support. Not that it mattered. I never saw any of it anyway. It went right up Mom and Greg’s nose, or they smoked or drank it away.

  This was supposed to be my summer. The summer that Riggins and I had fun before he left for college. The summer before my big senior year. The summer of my independence.

  I got my independence for sure. Riggins dumped me the day he graduated from Mal
one High. “I can’t date a girl in high school. I’m in college now,” he said.

  The thing is, I’m older than him. Asshole. All men are assholes.

  And now I get to go live with one.

  “Mom, I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to go live with Dad. I don’t want to go back to Richland High. I want to stay here in Malone.”

  I feel like a kid, whining. I know it won’t make a difference, but I do it anyway.

  “Malone is fifteen minutes away. You can come back and visit your friends anytime you want.”

  I try to forget that I live in a place where three states all intersect, and each little town seems a bit worse than the next. If I swam into the Ohio River I could have a body part in Ohio, Kentucky, and West Virginia all at the same time.

  I’d driven the loop more times than I can count, trying to escape life. Forty-five minutes around the loop and I can cross into all three states and be back home.

  Richland has the distinct luxury of having a rich and poor population in the same small town. A mixing bowl of everything I hate in life.

  If you live in Richland Heights, you’re part of the elite. Live in Richland town, otherwise known as The Yard, you’re the bottom of the barrel. And all of those kids go to the same high school, Richland Heights High.

  The place where my life was ruined.

  “Why can’t I just stay here? Live in the apartment alone? It’s not like you’re ever here anyway. No one would know.”

  “Katie…” I shoot her the look the moment she calls me that name. The name I gave up three years ago when we left Richland. “Baby, you know we can’t afford to pay for two apartments. We don’t make that much.”

  “Dad pays child support. It’s more than enough to cover the cost and then some. It’s supposed to be for me.” I can feel my face reddening with each word.

  “That money is to help me take care of you, and now you’re going to live with him. This is for the best, baby, I promise.”

  “We need to get going, Bev,” Greg says as he walks into the tiny kitchen and grabs another beer from the refrigerator. “There’s no sense in arguing about this, Lawson. We’re leaving.” He twists off the cap to the bottle and flicks it across the room with a snap, making it hit the wall next to the trash can. “Close enough. Make sure you pick that up before you leave. Oh, Donnie will be here in about an hour to get the couch you’re sitting on. Leave the keys under the mat. Power is turned off tomorrow.”

  Greghole doesn’t wait for a response from me. It wouldn’t matter anyway. He turns and leaves, yelling for mom to get her ass moving or he’s leaving her. That’s probably not a bad thing.

  “I love you, Lawson. I’ll call you when we get to our new place.”

  Mom kisses me on the forehead and leaves. Another person abandoning me.

  Fuck them all.

  Chapter Two

  Lawson

  “I can’t believe you’re really leaving us,” Chrissy says as she loads a box into the back of my beat-up truck.

  It’s one of the few things the money from child support actually paid for. At least that’s what Mom had said. I’m sure there was plenty left over since the truck cost less than a thousand dollars.

  “Me either,” I say and this time, the tears actually stream down my face uncontrollably. Chrissy has been my best friend since I moved here in ninth grade.

  I let her hug me. Comfort me. Something my mother hasn’t been able to do since she and Dad split up. “I’ll come visit, even though my parents won’t let me cross over the bridge to Richland. I’ll sneak over, I promise.”

  “It’s okay, Chrissy. I know no one actually wants to come visit Richland, not on purpose anyway.”

  Chrissy giggles as she wipes the tears away from her own eyes and then mine. “I will.”

  I watch as she climbs into her old convertible bug and waves as she pulls away.

  Alone, again.

  I make one final pass through the almost empty apartment, checking drawers and closets. Everything is empty except the pile of trash and abandoned items neither Mom nor Greg wanted and the couch.

  None of it is my problem. The landlord can track down Greg.

  I make one last check of the bathroom, looking in the medicine cabinet on the wall. As I shut it, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

  My auburn hair is tied up in a bun on the top of my head. Streaks of mascara run from the corners of my eyes. My face is red and blotchy.

  I’m a hot mess and sadly, I know I’ll fit in right where I’m headed.

  “Hello?” a gruff voice calls from the other room. “Greg?” Fuck. Donnie.

  “They already left,” I say as I walk in the room, attempting to wipe the black streaks from my eyes. I’m immediately met by the towering wall of Donnie. For a girl, I’m tall at five-eight. Donnie makes me feel short. He’s every bit of six and a half feet tall. All muscle. All hot. All asshole.

  “Hey, babe, just us, huh? I’m here to get the couch. I guess that’s it?” He nods in the obvious direction of the only piece of furniture in the empty apartment. He’s a real genius.

  “Yep, that’s it. Here are the keys to the apartment. Lock up when you’re done and put them under the mat,” I say as I toss the keys to Donnie.

  His big paw of a hand catches them. “Don’t wanna stay and hang for a bit? Maybe we can break that couch in?” He winks and grabs his crotch and immediately I can feel bile in my mouth and throat.

  “Not a chance, ever,” I say, gagging and not even looking at him. “You do realize you’re like twenty years older than me, right? Oh, and that I’m still in high school, too. Jesus, Donnie, won’t you ever grow up?” I spin to give him one last glance. He’s hot for an older guy but lacks every other quality that would make him attractive as a human.

  Donnie grunts and then mutters something to himself as I leave the apartment. I’m not concerned how he’s going to get the couch out alone. He’s definitely big enough and strong enough to probably throw it over his back and carry it downstairs by himself.

  I can see why he and Greg were friends. Between the two of them, they might share an IQ of twenty and that might be pushing it.

  * * * * *

  I sit in the car, willing myself to turn the key of my old truck and drive to Richland as my phone chimes.

  Dad: Is there anything you need?

  Now he asks me. As if there is anything he can actually do for me now. Where was he three years ago?

  Me: No. I have it under control. Be there soon.

  I watch the three little dots bounce on my phone screen and then they disappear. I didn’t expect there to be a response or even him asking again, just to make sure. That’s Dad, doing just enough, but nothing more. Asking me was all of the effort he will probably make.

  I bite my lip, fighting back the tears of feeling abandoned, again. I take a deep breath, turn the key, and crank up the radio, lucky that some heavy metal is blaring on the station.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m crossing the bridge from West Virginia into Kentucky. Richland, Kentucky. Not much has changed in the three years since I left.

  Logging trucks speed down the road toward the mill, and I pull out behind the last, following it into Richland. I gaze up the hill to the left and see the line of mansions with their swimming pools and four-car garages in Richland Heights. Memories come crashing through my mind.

  Then I see it.

  My old house. Big and white. Tall columns. I used to have a view of the river from high above town. Back when Dad had a big job and connections.

  I used to be one of those people who looked down on everything else, but I was never one of those people who believed they were better than anyone else.

  For the last three years, I’ve tried to convince myself that everything happened for a reason. That I ended up with Mom in Malone to teach me something. I wanted to believe it was the Universe, giving me what I needed at the time, but I wasn’t quite sure how this was what I needed right now.
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br />   I pull my eyes away from the houses on the hill just in time to make my turn down the gravel road. The back end of the truck slides in the gravel and all of the boxes shift in the back. I hear one of them crash and rattle as it slams against the side of the truck. I jam my foot down on the accelerator hard, fishtailing the truck and then straightening it out as dust kicks up behind me.

  A moment later, I’m pulling into Dad’s driveway. I’d been here once before, but it doesn’t even look familiar. It’s smaller than I remember with a small front yard and patches of grass here and there. Overgrown bushes and dead flowers line the sidewalk. The yard is scattered with large trees, and piles of leaves from a few seasons ago, giving the house an abandoned look.

  The small front porch has a few beat-up folding chairs on it complemented by a big wooden spool covered in beer bottles.

  My truck coasts to a stop at the end of the driveway, just in front of a stump, adorned by an ax from someone splitting wood, probably a long time ago.

  I put the truck in park and rest my head on the steering wheel.

  I’m not ready for this. Not even a little.

  Chapter Three

  Lawson

  After sitting in the truck for longer than it took to drive here, I finally get out. I don’t have a choice but to accept this as my new home. Dad’s home.

  I move around the boxes in the back of the truck and notice one that had shifted, now sitting cock-eyed in the corner of the truck bed.

  My photos.

  I opened the top of the box and the first thing I see is the cracked glass on the photo of Mom, Dad, and myself. It was taken just before they split.

  We looked happy. Different. Mom’s hair was brown. Her face was fuller. Back when she smiled. Dad looked thin, fit. I’m not sure exactly what he looks like now since it’s been so long.

  I catch a glimpse of myself in the cracked glass. The picture I’m holding is a harsh reminder of what I used to be. Blonde, innocent, happy. Maybe the broken frame was a sign. Maybe all of this was a mistake.