Between (Tory's School for the Troubled Book 1) Read online

  BETWEEN

  COVEY PUBLISHING, LLC

  Published by Covey Publishing, LLC

  PO Box 550219, Gastonia, NC 28055-0219

  Copyright © 2019 by Katie May

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the writer, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design Copyright © 2019 Covey

  Book Design by Covey, www.coveypublishing.com

  Copy Editing by Covey Publishing, LLC

  Printed in the United States of America.

  ISBN: 978-1-948185-98-1

  First Printing, 2019

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Also by Katie May

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Bianaca

  My tears blinded me, tiny crystals that were suspended on my cheeks. I could taste salt in my mouth, but I surged forward.

  With a sob, I grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the passenger seat.

  Indecision roared within me as I considered the brown liquid. The bottle was unopened—I hadn’t dared while driving—but the pain was immense. Smothering. I was standing at the pinnacle of a damn cliff, and all I wanted to do was jump.

  Would anyone catch me?

  Would anyone care?

  The answer to that question was no. Not anymore. Not after…

  I couldn’t finish that thought. Sobs shook my body, blinding me.

  The pain...it was everywhere. Who knew the pain from a broken heart could hurt in so many places? I could feel it in the tips of my fingers, my legs, the soles of my feet. Hell, I could even feel it on my scalp.

  I was dying. I would be the first girl to die from a broken heart.

  The car caught on something—a slate of ice, perhaps—and I scrambled to regain control of the vehicle. I fishtailed, a scream erupting from my mouth.

  With another cry, the car flipped. Glass shattered around me with the equivalence of a thunderstorm, a sudden onslaught of glass rain and booming noise. Tiny shards became embedded in my skin, my hands, my face, but still, I kept spinning.

  Down and down the rabbit hole I fell.

  Darkness shrouded my vision, a cauldron of spilled ink, and I welcomed it.

  1

  Bianaca

  The gates sprouted from the ground like jagged, silver teeth. Ominous structures, like keen claws preparing to devour you. Once you entered, you were never able to leave.

  And no, despite popular belief, I did not have a propensity for dramatics.

  I stared up at the building silhouetted in the waning sunlight.

  The steeply curved roof was a strange combination of shingles, bricks, and cement blocks. Row after row of windows lined the stone siding, broken apart only by immense doors, nearly two stories high, with golden knockers.

  Tory’s School for Troubled Teens.

  And my new home.

  I glanced back at the taxi idling in the parking lot. My mind warred with my body. The latter wanted me to run—run fast and run far—while my mind warned me of the consequences.

  My mind won the grueling battle.

  Taking a shuddering breath, I slung my duffle bag over my shoulder and walked to the wrought-iron gates. This close, I could depict twin gargoyles guarding the entrance.

  Stone bodies with intricate wings crafted on either side. Fangs the size of my head. Pinprick black eyes.

  I shuddered instinctively, backing away from the malicious stone creatures.

  The grounds of the school were just as immaculate, carefully manicured greenery with shrubs adorning the side of the building. I could see a forest peeking out from behind the school, a rich tapestry of greens and the beginnings of yellow. Fall was fast approaching, bringing with it a frigid chill.

  Craning my neck, I studied the building once more. Where were the students? The professors?

  The oppressive silence sent goosebumps racing down my arms. Goosebumps that had little to do with the cold wind.

  After taking another deep breath, I pulled out the school’s pamphlet.

  I couldn’t recall where or how I had gotten the pamphlet. It seemed to have materialized out of thin air.

  Mom always said I was a troubled child, and Steve, the asshole, agreed. After the incident…

  Well, Mom said she was left with no other choice.

  And Steve, of course, had provided the funds to send me away. He couldn’t provide food on the table, but money to send his stepdaughter to boarding school? Magic!

  Mom didn’t believe me when I claimed he must’ve robbed a bank.

  The pamphlet showed a picturesque school with a shining sun and shining smiles and shining people. Of course, they placed the one Hispanic person on the cover.

  Because why not?

  Instructions indicated for me to wait outside until my tour guide arrived. My thin jacket did little to quell the frosty air.

  Mom would’ve reprimanded me for not wearing warmer clothes.

  “You’re eighteen now,” she would scold, slapping me with a dishtowel. “Act like it.”

  Or, at least, she would’ve done that. Until Steve. Until our lives became so fucked up to the point I could hardly recognize it anymore.

  I had to remind myself that Mom wasn’t here. She hadn’t bothered to see her own daughter, her only child, off. Instead, she had chosen Steve the Asshole. She always chose him.

  Always believed him.

  My foot tapped with increasing speed against the asphalt as seconds turned into minutes. I wouldn’t consider myself an impatient person, but I was cold and just finished my period and really fucking craving chocolate cake. Frankly, I was not in the mood for this shit. The only other option for me was jail…though that was looking more and more appealing as the seconds droned on.

  I was just about to say piss off and head inside when a herd of taxis pulled up to the curb.

  The first taxi had a petite, wide-eyed female stepping out. The second, an unfamiliar male.

  And then I saw him.

  My body stilled, heart hammering against my rib cage. My breath left me in a swooping exhale.

  I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. After a moment, I pinched myself.

  Nope. Still awake.

  “Beau?” I gasped, tongue turning to cotton at the sight of my best friend.

  My well-behaved, straight-A student best friend. The angel to my devil best friend. The victim to my—well, you get the idea.

  His blond hair was tousled, longer at the top and shorter on the sides, and he wor
e a fitted blue shirt that heightened the blue of his eyes. His face had always been handsome, chiseled marble, and his pouty lips were curved downward as he surveyed the school with a clinical detachment.

  At my voice, his eyes flickered toward mine. Surprise crossed his face followed by something akin to relief. In three long strides, he was in front of me.

  He raised a brow, the eloquent gesture saying what he never would.

  Why are you here?

  “Why are you here?” I countered. What I really wanted to ask was, “Did you follow me?”

  But his face had held nothing but genuine surprise at seeing me, and it was illogical to believe he would willingly follow me to a school for troubled teens.

  The last time I had seen Beau…

  I couldn’t complete that thought. My memories of those days were a blur, a combination, I was sure, of drugs and alcohol. My last vivid memory was Mom shoving me into a taxi with only my suitcase and the damn pamphlet.

  And then the incident. It played on repeat in my head.

  Shivering, I stepped into Beau’s embrace.

  The heat he emitted was almost palpable, and I found myself nuzzling his neck. I had missed him. I hadn’t even realized how much until I came face to face with him.

  How would I have survived the rest of high school without him?

  “What are you doing here?” I repeated, pulling away to survey his face. His brow furrowed, a tiny crease appearing between his eyes, before he shrugged.

  Movement over his shoulder captured my attention.

  More people exited the various taxis. A pretty girl with light brown hair. Two more boys.

  My eyes became locked on the taxi driver’s. I blinked rapidly, unable to correlate what I saw with what I knew. Surely, it was a trick of the light.

  In that brief moment, it almost appeared as if the lady had black eyes. And I don’t mean eyes so brown they’re black, but legit black eyes.

  Obsidian stone black eyes. Supernatural television show black eyes.

  Before I could formulate a question, the taxis pulled away.

  Definitely a trick of the light.

  Beau tapped my shoulder, face creased with concern.

  “I’m fine,” I answered his unasked question. Taking the hand still on my shoulder, I gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But you haven’t explained why you’re here yet.”

  “Because he’s special,” the strident voice came from the front entrance of the school, and I turned toward the newcomer, surprised.

  Her blond tresses were fluffed to maximum…flufficity (if that wasn’t a real word, I declared it as one). Light pink eyeshadow made her green eyes pop vibrantly, and her lips were cherry red. I knew girls like her. Hell, I had been the butt of a joke from girls like her. They had sticks so far up their asses that it could’ve been considered anal.

  “Hello! Gather around!” Her voice was just as aggravating—high-pitched with the slightest Southern drawl. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Or possibly stab her when her gaze rested on Beau appreciatively.

  Thirsty bitch.

  “I’m Maria, and I’m going to be your tour guide.”

  Tour of your damn vagina, I thought, trying to ignore the blatant ogling of my best friend. I would bet my very soul that she would try to get him to her bedroom by the end of the day. And let me tell you, my soul was a very valuable object. All dark and twisted and lovable.

  God, what was wrong with me?

  This was Beau, not my boyfriend. Why did I have the urge to pee on him like a damn dog claiming its territory?

  Maria was babbling, hands moving animatedly to emphasize her point, but I tuned her out.

  School is so amazing and schoolish. School has classrooms and teachers. School has constipated puppies being kicked by Oompa Loompas on acid.

  Or maybe I was taking creative liberties on her speech.

  We stayed in the courtyard, the grass spliced apart by a circular drive and a wide fountain. A monster was carved into the stone, each detail crafted with the utmost care. I tried to decipher the creature, but it was an odd combination of a lion, dragon, and human. Nothing I had seen before, but with the capability to evoke fear deep within me.

  I pulled my attention away and grasped Beau’s hand. He looked surprised at my initiation of contact, but not unpleased. With a squeeze meant to reassure, he pulled me up the steep staircase and through the front door.

  The interior of the school was just as opulent as the exterior. A three-tiered chandelier greeted us, providing a golden aperture toward another set of stairs. The brown, wooden walls were devoid of any pictures or decorations. Just wood and fine-trimmed rails. The furniture in the initial room, which I assumed served as a lobby, consisted of two leather couches placed into a semicircle and a fireplace carved into the wall.

  A couple of students were lounging around, each dressed in the same outfit Maria wore: pleated bottoms and white shirts.

  “Tanner!” Maria called cheerfully. A young man lifted his head, surveying Maria with barely concealed distaste.

  The first word I could think of was hot. And not in the way you would expect. His hand was inches away from the flickering flames, a serene expression crossing his face as he came close to burning himself.

  And of course, he was gorgeous too. A strong jawline framed by blond, almost golden, hair. He had aqua blue eyes, the color of a Caribbean Sea, and full, cupid bow lips.

  So yes, I suppose you could argue he was hot in more ways than one.

  His free hand held a cigarette, and he absently put it to his lips and took an indolent drawl.

  “You know you’re not supposed to smoke in here,” Maria huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “When has smoking ever killed you?” His voice was raspy with a strange, unfamiliar lilt. An accent of some sort, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. Australian, perhaps? His eyes flickered from face to face, stopping on mine.

  “Gunshots, on the other hand…” Trailing off, he shoved the butt of the cigarette into the hearth and stood to his full height. He wasn’t as tall as Beau, but he was more muscular, each individual one articulated through his thin black T-shirt. Unlike the others, he wasn’t dressed in the uniform required of all school students.

  Without another word, he shouldered past us and up the stairs. He was near the top when he turned to look over his shoulder, a cruel smile forming on his face.

  He raised his thumb and pointer finger, a bad impersonation of a gun, and fired.

  I almost felt as if the bullet speared my chest.

  2

  Bianaca

  We stopped at another large banquet room, a sprawl of food set up on a buffet. Everything from glazed chicken to sugar-sprinkled strawberries to fish fillet. My mouth watered as I took stock of the delicious selection before me.

  Maria led us to the line, and we all immediately piled our plates.

  Beau chuckled when I skipped the main course and went straight to the dessert. He knew of my chocolate cravings, particularly during a certain time of month. With an amused sigh, he piled extra brownies and cookies on his plate and presented it to me like an offering.

  “You’re my hero,” I cooed, smacking him on the cheek. His face went up into flames, and he swatted my shoulder.

  I remembered when we had first become friends, ten years ago. Beau had been getting beat up on the playground, and I had retaliated by punching the bullies in the face. Mother had been furious, but Dad? He was proud.

  Beau had followed me around the next day of school, a shy and timid boy. At first, I was annoyed by his constant attention, but I soon came to enjoy it. Not just enjoy it, but crave it. We had been inseparable ever since.

  The rest of the tour consisted of classrooms, the cafeteria, and the wing that housed the dorms.

  It was as we were walking through the second courtyard that I saw them. There were only two of them, gliding across the yard with a grace that made me instantly jealous. Sheathed entirely in black�
��from their shoes to their gloves—the person on the right wore a white, porcelain mask. It had red, painted-on lips and pinprick black dots for eyes. The person on the left had on a lion mask, complete with a magnificent golden mane and tiny whiskers.

  I stopped, shock and disbelief warring in my stomach. I reached out and grabbed Beau’s hand in mine, relying on his steadfast strength.

  “Who the hell are they?” I whispered. Maria, who was standing in front of me, spun on her heel.

  “Those are two of the professors,” Maria supplied, following the direction of my gaze. The two masked figures slid past us, footsteps almost synchronized. Goosebumps erupted on my flesh, and I rubbed at my arm with my free hand.

  “Professors?”

  What the hell kind of school was this?

  Maria nodded stoutly, reaching for her blond braid to play with the ends.

  “It’s their way of dehumanizing themselves, making themselves known as the top dog in the school. It prohibits any kind of relationship or friendship between faculty and students. They don’t talk to us outside of class, and we are never allowed to look at their faces.” She shrugged nonchalantly as if this was completely normal to her. I supposed, in a way, it was. How could she not see how badly that was fucked up?

  “Definitely makes for a healthy learning environment,” I drawled sarcastically. If Maria noticed my snark, she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she nodded her head seriously.

  “It helps.”

  Without another word, she spun on her heel once more and led us down a hall. Beau removed his hand from mine, and I instantly missed the contact.