Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J. Bree

I see red, and then my vision whites out, and then I think I'm having a full rage blackout. I'm a little concerned that when I come to, this dickhead will be dead. I hear his laugh and then, without meaning to, my hand shoots out and jabs him in the throat. The noise he makes is magnificent, and he sprawls back into the lockers like I've shot him.

“If she flattens another guy, I want to see it. If she does it to Joey, I will wank over it for the rest of my life.”

new money can’t become old money without getting dirty first.

“If you're willing to do that for your enemy, then what you do for your friends must be really special.”

“I hope your broken ribs puncture your lungs and you drown in your own blood,”

“I don't have friends either. I want one, and I want one as fierce as you.”

but how can I trust this girl that looks like an angel but is really a crossroads demon, bargaining and making deals with mere mortals for their souls?

“Have you ever broken the bones in a guy’s hand in half a second one-handed?” Ash drawls. I forgot I even did that. Lance frowns at him and shakes his head. “Then she’s tougher than you.”

“You think you’re cool because your daddy bought your shitty punk band a record deal? Write another pathetic song about your feelings, dickhead, and stay out of my business.”

“What’s your truth today, Mounty?” she continues with a smirk. I groan and scrub a hand over my face. “I don’t know how to flirt.” She laughs at me and says, “That’s not a truth. That’s a sad revelation.

I’m also going to teach you how to castrate a guy properly. I mean it, I’m going to teach you how to cut a dick off.”

What the hell is with rich kids and partying on school nights? Avery manages to shovel pancakes into her mouth and still look like a delicate, refined lady. I’m sure I look something like Cookie Monster as I tear into my muesli.

Avery’s eyes drop thirty degrees in temperature and she becomes a marble statue, cold and hard. “Harlow, if you’re going to speak to us can you please put on some underwear? I can see your gaping vagina trailing down your thighs from here.” Sweet merciful lord, I nearly choke.

I adore this girl so fiercely I wish I were a lesbian and I could lock this shit down. Alas, I like dick.

“You really are broken, aren’t you?” she says with a smile. I think if anyone else said it to me I’d lose my mind at them but there’s this kindness in her eyes when I look at her. Like she knows exactly what it’s like to be shattered into a million pieces and taped back together in the wrong order.

he’s only wearing a pair of boxer shorts and he’s still wet from the shower. He turns to walk toward us and I can’t breathe. “Sweet lord,”

“Fuck today, fuck this school, and fuck every fucking knuckle-scraping, chest-beating, egotistical piece of shit guy in this fucking hellhole!” I yell and slam the bathroom door. I tear the rest of my clothes off and get into the shower, screaming a little like the dramatic petal I am today.

It's only in the black light that you can see the ink that covers me. The skeletal structure I've had tattooed to my skin, the jaw opening wide etched in my cheeks with vicious teeth. Every inch of my body is covered in the whorls and arches that imitate the pelt. The black light shows that underneath the human facade I wear the truth of who I am. The Wolf.

I roll the diamond between my fingers absently while I wait for the reply. Avery is watching the little stone move with something predatory in her eyes. She looks at the diamond the way I imagine I look at Harley, Blaise, and Ash. I hope to God they never notice. I think she’s honestly turned on by it. I start to feel weird about playing with it so I sigh and hold it out for her. She lunges for it like a crack addict.

“We were always a little criminal, Morrison,”

“Secret girls’ business,” says Avery in her most innocent voice. He rolls his eyes at her. “With the two of you that could be anything from pairing the correct shoes with an outfit to plotting the murder of a filthy-rich senator for your own gain.”

These three have all just agreed that I’m the priority, that my safety trumps every other issue we have going on. My welfare and safety has never been a priority to anyone other than myself. It’s a terrifying, amazing thing.

“I'm weird. I wear guys’ shirts and sweaters with booty shorts and skirts. I listen to the same three albums on repeat. I like French toast, coffee, and cherry anything. I don't function my birthday or Christmas. I can kill a grown man eight different ways with nothing but my bare hands. I’m never going to be normal.”

I'm not planning on wooing you, I'm planning on doing whatever I need to do to get to keep you.”

“Better. So much better. Diamonds!”

“I don't want boring old diamonds. I want priceless, blood-soaked, favor diamonds.”

“I’m keeping you forever. I don’t do this shit for anything but keeps.” And then he swallows my answering sigh.

Harley scoffs and whispers in my ear, “Stop looking at her like you want to fuck her; you’ll give us all a complex.” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “If we both swung that way, we’d be fucking married by now. I would have wifed her ass last year.”

It’s weird how quickly the life leaches out of them and leaves behind nothing, even though the eyes themselves haven’t changed.

“Get the fuck off of her in my presence, Morrison! I know what she’s just shown you and if you’re now sporting a boner, I’ll cut it the fuck off!”

“You’ll always be the Wolf. And we’ll always be yours.”

I’m pretty sure sex therapists are just sex workers who charge more.”

he grins down at me like I’m the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. Like I’m his soul, his reason for being.

grins down at me like I’m the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. Like I’m his soul, his reason for being.

“I’m fine. It’s just—” “I know,” Avery cuts me off, running a soothing hand down my arm. “You’re slowly being put back together.”

No. No, thank you. I do not hold small humans. Not ever.

It’s a fucking constant battle, walking through landmines and praying I’m not mis-stepping and losing the only fucking reason I have for living. So don’t underestimate me,

“I hate him. I hate him so fucking much and I’m glad he’s gone, but I still feel like I’ve lost something. I feel like that part of me is over with and I’m fucking scared without it.”