Tiny Dark Deeds: A Dark High School Bully Romance (Court Legacy Book 3)
Tiny Dark Deeds: Chapter 23

Sloane

It took me a second to find him and another to ditch security. He was going to pay for making me fucking cry in the hallway.

The audacity.

We’d had ample opportunity to have this conversation, and none of it had involved me being a blubbering mess in the middle of the hallway. He’d had time to talk to me. Plenty of fucking time.

He hadn’t gone back to class.

Dorian was sitting on a weight bench when I finally fucking found him and was naked from the waist up. He was lifting a barbell the size of like three of me, his muscles roving, his breath labored. He reset the weight with a clank, and when he sat up, I accosted him from the front.

I straddled the bench in front of him, grabbing the barbell behind him. He was going to look me in the fucking face and tell me what he had to say.

“Why wasn’t it about you?” I snapped, really fucking snapping. I had the most popular boy in school… the captain of the football team and jacked to the freaking nines, between me and a damn barbell. This boy could break me in half.

He wasn’t. He just looked at me, hands on his thighs, smelling like sweat, boy. Drops of perspiration misted his brow and muscled torso, his pecs flushed and cheeks red. Why the fuck he was in here instead of back in class, I didn’t know.

I wet my lips, a visible tremor in my arms as they hovered above his shoulders. He had two legs stamped out, our knees knocking, and his head between my forearms. Our faces were inches away from each other, but I couldn’t back down.

I refused.

“Why wasn’t it about you?” I ground out and on the verge of fucking tears. We were going to have this conversation, but it wasn’t going to be in the damn hallway in front of everybody and God. I’d already gotten enough stares being back. “You say I’m perfect, and you do these things for me…” My voice ached, cracked. “Things like being there for me the other day when I met Ramses and Brielle, and your fucking emails…”

I broke then, a tear, and Dorian’s reaction to that was his nostrils flaring. His hands gripped his thick legs, black shorts I guessed he’d changed into under his hands.

“You make accommodations for me. You fight for me.” Stop fucking crying. I blinked tears away. “I need you to tell me why not trusting me was about you. I need you to fucking say it, Dorian.”

I didn’t know why I needed this. I didn’t know why I was here. I just knew he had me crying in the middle of that hallway, and I was so sick of the pull he had over me.

Consideration moved over his face, his head down, his blond tresses thick and clumped with sweat. He’d been in here long enough to exert a fair amount of energy. “Because I’ve always known the answer.”

“What?”

His fingers weaved through his hair, the sides cropped short. The latter was hard to tell since he always wore his hair loose and with little to no product. It just looked that way, his hair perfect all the time. He pressed his hands together. “About you,” he said, glancing up. “I’ve always known the answer about you. I’ve always known your character and who you are. I know you’re a good person, Noa. I know you’re perfect.”

I gripped the barbell, trembling again.

“So yes, me not having faith in you and my distrust of my grandfather had nothing to do with you.” His throat flicked. “It was always about me and my issues. It was about me and my refusal to trust my gut and believe in you. I’ve always known the truth.” He shook his head. “But my fear… fear of loving you and giving you myself completely…”

A sound escaped my throat, my breath heavy.

His nostrils flared again. “It’s what made me do the wrong thing. Ares is right. I didn’t know who you were. I didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. I still did the wrong fucking thing when it came to you, and that’s because I love you so fucking much it scared the shit out of me.”

I let go, backed up, and he stood up. He towered over me, a mountain to my peak.

“You are so goddamn perfect to me.” A roughness touched his voice, his knuckles tight at his sides. “Everything about you is perfect to me.”

I backed up again, angling away. “You’re wrong,” I said, making his eyes flash. “You’re wrong. I’m fucked up, and you fuck me up.”

“Noa—”

“No. Let me fucking finish.” I put my finger in his face. “You fuck me up so bad, Dorian. You do, and I do stupid things too.”

Confusion laced his ebony eyes, his head cocked. I probably sounded like a fucking basket case.

I was a basket case.

I couldn’t breathe at this point, grabbing my legs. I studied the rubber mats on the floor. “I’m chaos.” I was nightmare fuel, literally. I created all this destruction in my wake, and it didn’t matter what I did, I still hurt people. I’d hurt him and his family and…

“Sloane…”

I needed fucking space, my hands up. “I’ve created so much pain, Dorian,” I said, my voice rough now. “And I know it’s not my fault. I know I was kidnapped, and things happened outside of my control. Yes, I know that, but it doesn’t change what I’ve done.”

“What?” he asked me, concern lining every inch of his handsome face. I hated it. I loathed the accommodations he constantly made for me and how mature he was being. It made me look even more foolish. I didn’t have my shit together.

I wasn’t perfect.

“I found out the truth, and the first thing I did was run,” I said, swallowing. “I ran because I knew what my being back would do. I knew how many people it would hurt.” I blinked, crying again. “Your grandfather caused a lot of pain, Dorian, and I knew what him being around would do. He hurt your family, Dorian. My family…”

He got closer, and I stiffened.

“He was talking about doing this press conference and telling the truth, and all I could see was how that would affect your parents.” I braced my hands. “How it would affect Ramses, Brielle, and Ares…” I looked up. “And you.”

He was the first one I’d thought of actually.

He’d fucked me up so bad.

His expression fell after what I said, his hands out, but I didn’t let him get close.

“The flood gates were going to open up, and I panicked. I ran, and I don’t know why,” I stated, crossing my arms. “To deny the inevitable or what the fuck ever.” I was cold now, shivering. I hugged my arms. “I just knew a lot of people were about to be hurt, and I was about to be the reason.”

He did make me do stupid things, but it wasn’t just him. Him and this town and all the connections I’d formed definitely helped. Bow, Wells, and Thatcher and their families would have been just as affected as the Mallicks and Prinzes.

Because they were all family.

They were and shared each other’s pain and hardships. They had peace before all this with me.

“I did the wrong thing,” I said. “I ran, and I made people hurt even worse.” I put my hand on my chest. “That’s on me.”

Dorian started to reach for me, to comfort me, and all that did was spring more madness within me. I didn’t want his comfort, or anything else.

“And through it all, I’m still mad at you.” I laughed, honest to fuck feeling manic. I gripped my hair. “I’m angry you lied to me. I’m hurt you didn’t trust me while, at the same time, angry at myself for feeling that way because I do get it and why you did what you did.” God, I really did sound fucking crazy. My head shook. “But what I think angers me the most is how mature you’re being about all this. You are, and I know you’re only being that way for my benefit. You’re looking out for me when I know you’re fucking angry too.”

I knew this because I knew him too, his character. We were both fucked up, and that was one of the things that was so nice about us. He wasn’t perfect, and neither was I. We were both equally and utterly stupid the way we handled shit sometimes.

We were beautiful.

I hadn’t seen it before… beauty in the chaos, but that was what we were.

“You’re mad at me,” I said, stepping up to him. “You’re furious, and I know you are. You’re just as angry at me as I am at you. You’re not perfect, Dorian. You’re fucking flawed just like me, and I need you to start acting like it before I lose my mind. I feel so alone. Alone here and in my head, and I need you. I need us. I—”

My rant ended under his mouth, his teeth biting my lip, his hand around my throat. He tightened his hold, and I gasped, his mouth sealing over mine.

“I am fucking mad at you,” he growled, his hand shoving under my hoodie. He ripped the dress shirt beneath open at the buttons, his hand gripping my breast, and I trembled. “I’m mad at you for not fucking trusting me. For going to fucking Thatcher and not coming to me.”

He unleashed my breast, ripping the lace clean off me. He worked my hoodie off and once he did, he pinched my nipple so hard tears sprung from my eyes.

“I’m mad at you for leaving me,” he rasped, his mouth on my cheek, my neck. “I’m mad at you for not loving me.”

A boulder to the chest, my body shaking. I tried to look at him, but he wouldn’t let me.

He was too busy stripping me naked.

My shirt came off in tatters, my bra the same. Soon, I had nothing on but my tie, skirt, underwear, and shoes, but I didn’t know how long those would survive.

The dark prince picked me up, a literal toss over his shoulder. I held on, kissing and gripping his back, tasting his skin. God, we were messed up because this was completely turning me the hell on. I bit him, and he grabbed my ass so hard I knew I’d feel him there for weeks.

He slapped it as if to make sure.

“You’re going to feel every moment you were away from me,” he said, my panties gone when he pulled them off. I thought he’d put me down, but he put two fingers in his mouth, his index and middle finger, then his thumb. His thumb he shoved directly into my ass while he used the other two to coax and play with my clit.

Stars hit my vision, the cry rough from my throat from the invasion in my ass. I’d never tried anal or anything, and I think I’d only had my own digit in here on the rare occasions when I played with myself.

“You’re going to feel me,” he promised, biting my ass before removing his thumb and putting me down. His face had completely reddened, his hair tousled and his body flushed. He appeared completely mad, and the smile on his lips only accompanied it. His shorts tented, he stroked himself through them. “I’m going to fuck you until we’re both weak, and even then, I won’t stop.”

He bit my mouth as if a prelude to that, his body hot and slick with sweat. Solid muscle hit my body, unyielding with its force as moisture pooled between my legs. He played with my lower lips while he pumped himself, his dick hitting my mound. “You’re not going to forget me again.”

I hadn’t forgotten him. I never had.

How could I?

I hadn’t forgotten what he’d said to me before I’d left. I hadn’t nor had I been ignorant to see what had underlined each of those messages, how he’d always told me about everyone else but left out things about himself or us. I knew how he felt about me.

I knew he loved me.

I could feel it with each kiss and taste, with each aggressive move when he whirled me around and bent me over that weight bench. He kicked my ankles apart there, shoving his shorts down.

“You’re going to feel me and how you make me weak,” he gritted, shoving his cock inside me. He hadn’t bothered with a condom and thank God I was on birth control. I cried out beneath him, and he roared. “And how I don’t care because I love you so fucking much.”

His thighs jutted forward, a harsh slap against my ass. The weight bench heaved forward and only caused Dorian to press more of his weight on me.

“You do make me weak, but I don’t care, Noa,” he said, hard in, slow out. “I love you.”

I held his hand, and what he saw as weakness, I only saw as strength. He was the strongest person I knew and way stronger than me. He was strong enough to admit to me how he felt and had since the very beginning. He’d always been honest with me about that.

Tell him.

He roared as he came, my walls clenching when I flooded around him too. I cried out, using my arm to hold his weight and mine.

“I love you too,” I gasped, tears springing from my eyes. I looked back at him. “I always have. Always.”

It was like the words fell out of me, seeping from an open wound. I did love him, and I always had.

I’d been scared.

It wasn’t easy to love Dorian Prinze. Because with that love came so much more. He had such potential to hurt me.

Slowing behind me, Dorian lifted my jaw. His hold tight, I couldn’t look away even if I tried. He dampened his mouth. “Always?”

Emotion lined his rough voice, and it contracted my throat. I nodded. “Always.”

Fear was a weighted thing because even as I said it, I was scared. He could shatter us.

He could destroy me.

Because that was how much power he had over me and how much he meant to my world. He told me he wasn’t going to let me forget him.

If only he knew, he never had to try.

His lids lowering, Dorian sealed our mouths, his kisses breathless, his tongue light. He hugged me to him. “I love you,” he said, his tongue sweeping, voice cracking. “Fucking always, little fighter. Fucking always.”

He rocked behind me, still inside me. He didn’t let me go under his mouth, and I was foolish enough to never want him to again. He could hurt me.

I just didn’t care.

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