Cruel Intentions : A High School Bully Romance (Eastern High Series Book 1)

It hurts. God, it fucking hurts. It’s like a knife to the gut, seeing her there on that bench, laughing with the girl—my half-sister. The sight claws at something raw, something I thought I’d buried years ago.

All I want is an answer. Why? Why the fuck did she leave me, only to stay for them?

Earlier, through the windshield, I studied the boy. He looks about nine—older than I was when she walked out. Which means within a year or two of leaving, she started over. A whole new family. A family she fucking chose.

Now, standing in front of her, the anger rises, threatening to pull me under. I want to scream, to hurl every ounce of hurt and fury at her, to make her feel the way she made me feel. I want her to understand how deeply she fucked me up. But I don’t. Because as much as she broke me, Dad was the one who picked up the pieces. He gave me something she didn’t—a good life. A life full of love. The kind she’s clearly giving them now.

I glance at the boy and girl. Their eyes are on me, and the boy’s face delivers a jolt—features we both share, unmistakably hers. Then there’s the girl, clinging to her hand, her wide, innocent eyes staring up at me. My chest tightens. She doesn’t know. She has no idea what it’s like to be left behind.

“Noah,” my mother says, her voice hesitant, cracking like she’s afraid of what I might say.

My eyes snap to hers, and it feels like the air’s been sucked out of the world.

“I’m so glad you came,” she says softly, carefully, like she’s walking on glass. “Cole and Lilla have been excited to meet you.”

I don’t respond. I just stare at her, my grip tightening on Aubrey’s hand as rage simmers beneath the surface, threatening to erupt.

What does she think she can say?

Standing here, face-to-face with her, I wish now I hadn’t come. There’s nothing she could say to make it better. Nothing that could undo the silence, the absence, the damage.

She opens her mouth, probably gearing up to spew some bullshit about how sorry she is or how much she’s missed me. I don’t let her.

“Why?” I snap, my voice low but sharp enough to cut.

She freezes, her mouth still slightly open, staring at me like she doesn’t know what to say.

“Why the fuck did you come back?” I spit, my voice shaking with the weight of years spent swallowing this pain. “You think you can just show up now and fix everything? Say a few pretty words and worm your way back into my life? Fuck that. Fuck you.”

Her face crumples, but I don’t care. Let her feel even a fraction of what I’ve carried all these years. Let her know what it’s like to hurt like I did. There’s no apology on Earth that could erase the damage she left behind.

She glances back at the kids—the ones she chose. ‘Why don’t you two go play on the equipment while I talk to your brother,’ she says, her voice soft, sweet, like this is some kind of happy family reunion instead of the train wreck it is.

Brother. I didn’t even know these kids existed until Dad told me she was back. Maybe I should’ve told him what I was planning, let him come here to get his answers too. Or maybe he’s better off not knowing. Better off not reopening the wounds she left behind.

The kids nod and run off toward the playground, casting curious glances back at me—their so-called brother.

My stomach churns as I watch them. They don’t have a clue who I am, and I don’t want to know them. They’re living the life I should’ve fucking had.

She turns back to me, a tentative smile on her lips, like she’s trying to soften the blow.

‘Noah,’ she starts, her voice careful.

‘Don’t,’ I snap, cutting her off. ‘Don’t act like we’re some happy fucking family. You made your choice a long time ago.’

Her smile falters, and she looks down, her hands twisting together nervously. ‘I know I hurt you,’ she says softly.

‘Hurt me?’ I repeat, letting out a sharp, bitter laugh. ‘You didn’t just hurt me. You fucking abandoned me. You left me and Dad without a second thought, and now you show up with your shiny new family and expect me to play big brother. Fuck that.’

She flinches, tears welling in her eyes, but I don’t stop. I can’t. The anger’s been building for too long to hold it back now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice cracking.

‘Sorry doesn’t mean shit,’ I snap, the words like fire on my tongue.

She nods, wiping her eyes like that’ll make a difference. ‘I understand,’ she says quietly. ‘I just… I wanted to see you. To explain—’

‘Explain what?’ I cut her off again, my voice rising. ‘That you traded us in for them. That we weren’t good enough for you. Save it.’

Her lips press together, and the guilt in her eyes is almost satisfying. Good. She fucking should feel guilty.

But then she opens her mouth, and I know she’s about to try justifying it all—like there’s some magical excuse that could make up for the years she ripped away.

“Noah, please—”

“Do you know what it’s like,” I cut her off, stepping closer, “to sit on the front fucking steps every night, waiting for someone who never comes back? To watch your dad, try to pick up the pieces, pretending it doesn’t kill him every time your name comes up? You wrecked us. For what? So you could go play mom somewhere else?”

Her tears spill over now, and she raises a trembling hand to her mouth, like that’ll stop the truth from cutting her. But I’m not done. Not even close.

“And don’t you dare stand there crying,” I say, my voice quieter now but no less venomous. “You don’t get to cry. You don’t get to act like the victim here. You left us. And now you’ve got them.” I jab a finger toward the playground, where Cole and Lilla are climbing on the jungle gym, laughing like their lives aren’t a shattered mirror of mine. “Maybe they’ll never know what it feels like to be left behind. Good for them. But you know who does? Me. And Dad.”

Her shoulders start to shake, and she’s barely holding it together, but I don’t feel a shred of pity. How could I, when I’ve spent years clawing my way out of the shadow she left? The kid who waited on those steps every night, hoping for a miracle? That kid’s dead, buried under years of silence and disappointment.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” I mutter, shaking my head. “This was a fucking mistake.”

I turn to leave, my chest tight and heaving, the weight of everything threatening to crush me. But I can’t stay here. Not with her. Not with them.

I’ve barely taken two steps when her voice stops me. It’s raw and broken, just like the memories she left behind.

“Noah, please. Don’t go.”

I freeze, keeping my back to her.

Every instinct is screaming at me to keep walking, to leave her here the way she left me. But there’s another part of me—the part I fucking hate—that can’t quite let go yet.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and her voice cracks under the weight of the words. “I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you and your dad. I know I can’t change it, Noah. I know I can’t fix what I did.”

Slowly, I turn just enough to look at her, and the sight of her knocks the wind out of me. She’s standing there, arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears streaming down her face. She looks… smaller. Fragile. Weak.

“Why?” The question escapes me before I can stop it, quieter now but sharp enough to cut. “Why did you leave us? Why did you stay for them?”

She takes a hesitant step closer, and this time, I don’t move, don’t flinch. “Because I was a coward,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was young and scared. I thought if I left, it would be better for both of you. I thought I could start over, be a better person. But I didn’t. I just made it worse.”

Her words linger in the air, heavy and bitter, and I can’t decide if I want to scream at her or laugh at how fucking pathetic it sounds.

“You have a brother and a sister, Noah,” she says, her voice trembling like it might crack in two. “Cole and Lilla. They’d like to get to know you. They’ve heard about you. They’ve asked about you. And I know I have no right to ask, but… please. Give them a chance. Give me a chance.”

I stare at her, my chest tight and my mind racing.

She’s asking for something I don’t know if I can give—forgiveness, a chance to rewrite the past, something that feels impossible.

A brother and a sister. Cole and Lilla. They’ve heard about me. Asked about me. And now she wants me to just step into this picture-perfect family she built after ripping mine apart.

My gaze shifts to the playground, where Cole and Lilla are laughing together, their joy so effortless. They look… happy. The kind of happy I was supposed to be. And maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to hate them, even as the sight of them tears me up inside.

Dragging my eyes back to her, I let the coldness in my voice do the talking.

“Fine. I’ll meet them. But you?” A bitter laugh escapes as I shake my head. “I don’t want anything to fucking do with you.”

Her face crumbles, and for a moment, I think she’s going to say something, to plead her case, but I cut her off before she can.

“You don’t get to walk back into my life like nothing happened. You don’t get to pretend that you didn’t fuck me up when you left. I’ll meet them, but that’s it. You and me. We’re done.”

Her shoulders slump, and she nods, her lips trembling as she swallows down whatever words she was about to say. “Okay,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “I understand.”

“Get them,” I say, jerking my head toward the playground. “If they want to meet me, let’s get this shit over with.”

She hesitates for a moment, as if she’s unsure whether I mean it, then nods and turns toward the playground.

As she walks away, I feel Aubrey’s hand wrap around my waist, holding me steady. She steps in front of me, her presence the only thing keeping me from bolting. I glance down at her, unsure of what’s coming next.

What the fuck do you say to two kids you didn’t know existed until a few weeks ago?

“Are you okay?” Aubrey asks softly, her voice steady even though I can feel her watching me like I’m a bomb about to go off.

“No,” I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair for what feels like the millionth time. “I’m not fucking okay, Aub. None of this is okay. But it’s not their fault.” The words sting as they leave my mouth, bitter and sharp. “I have no fucking idea how to deal with this.”

Aubrey rises on her toes and presses a soft kiss to my lips, her touch gentle, grounding. “I know,” she says quietly. “But you’ll figure it out as you go.”

Before I can respond, I hear the quick slap of sneakers on pavement.

Cole and Lilla come running toward me, and every muscle in my body locks up. My jaw tightens as they skid to a stop a few feet away, both staring up at me like I’m some kind of big deal. What the fuck am I supposed to do?

Aubrey steps aside, slipping her hand into mine, her grip firm but reassuring.

“Hi,” Lilla says, her voice soft and unsure. “Are you our brother?”

Brother.

The word hits harder than I expected. I swallow hard, forcing the lump in my throat back down. She’s so small, so fucking innocent, and for a moment, the storm inside me quiets.

“Yeah,” I say finally. “I guess I am.”

Cole steps up beside her, taller, older, but just as uncertain. “Mom told us about you. Not a lot, but… we’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”

There’s something about the way he says it, like he’s genuinely excited to see me, even though he doesn’t know shit about who I am.

I glance back at Aubrey. She’s standing just behind me, her eyes steady and calm, her expression soft. She doesn’t say anything, just gives me a small nod, like she’s silently telling me I’ve got this.

Turning back to Cole and Lilla, I take them in—open faces, hopeful expressions, like they actually want me in their lives.

And as much as I want to hold onto the anger and the hurt, I can’t aim it at them.

They didn’t choose this. They didn’t do any of it.

My dad leans against the counter, coffee mug in hand, watching me pace the kitchen like I’m trying to wear a hole in the floor. He doesn’t say a word, just tracks my movements with his steady gaze, waiting for me to speak.

The silence feels heavy, like it’s pressing on my chest, but I don’t know where to start. How the fuck do I put today into words?

“I met them,” I finally say, dragging a hand through my hair as the tension in my chest threatens to suffocate me. “I met her kids”

Dad freezes, his mug halfway to his lips. He doesn’t take a sip. Instead, he sets it down on the counter with a quiet clink. “You saw your mother today?”

I stop pacing and lean against the fridge, like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. “Yeah. Her too.”

His jaw tightens, and he swallows hard before speaking. “And?”

“And she’s full of shit,” I say. “She tried to explain why she left, like there’s anything she can fucking say that makes it okay.”

“Did she give you any kind of answer?”

“Not one that makes any sense,” I say bitterly. “She said she was young and scared, but she wasn’t too scared to have another kid—two fucking kids—not long after she left. She stayed for them, Dad. She built this whole new life with them…” My voice falters, the words catching in my throat.

Dad steps closer, his expression hard to read. “Why didn’t you say you were going?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to know,” I mutter, staring at the floor. “Maybe I should’ve. Maybe you deserved to hear her excuses, too.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve heard enough excuses from her, Noah. I don’t need to hear more.”

I finally meet his eyes, the weight of the day crashing down on me. “She said they want to know me. Cole and Lilla. She said they’ve been asking about me.”

Dad’s face softens, just a little, but his voice stays steady. “And what do you want?”

My throat feels tight, and it takes me a moment to answer. “I don’t fucking know,” I admit, my voice breaking on the last word.

He steps closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he says firmly. “But whatever you do, make sure it’s for you, Noah. Not for her. Not for them. For you.”