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It’s a little white lie, one I tell often. I’ve done it so many times it comes naturally to me.
But I’m done being the victim. I’m tired of giving and giving and not getting anywhere. My life is worth something, and I’ll be damned if I let some playboy ruin it.
I’ve already been destroyed once, but I kept my shattered heart intact with every bit of tape I could find. No fucking way will Cole Travis ever find a way to unravel the coils around my heart.
And one thing’s for sure … I will make him pay for what he did.
Chapter 21
Monica
The rest of the trip was surprisingly uneventful, mostly because I stayed the hell out of Cole’s way. He and his band were basically glued to their groupies, so they didn’t even notice me during most of the outings, which I don’t mind at all, even though I’d expected Cole to continue pestering me over what I’d seen. I guess he thinks he’s safe now that he took a picture.
Oh, how wrong he is. He thinks he can bully others into submission, but I have some tricks up my sleeve too, and he’s not going to like them. He doesn’t know how far I’m willing to go to get my point across. And to get that picture deleted.
My reputation is at stake here, and you do not want to mess with a woman who’s already been scorned.
Cole fucking Travis doesn’t know who he’s playing with. But he’ll find out soon enough.
I wait for the right moment, a normal day at school, a few days after the trip, when everyone’s calmed down again and going about their normal routine. That’s when I strike.
Cole’s standing near his locker with a bunch of groupies surrounding him. After their new song came out a few days ago, they’ve been following him around the school even more than normal. It’s sickening, especially considering he’s not just handing out autographs. Every time I watch a girl grope him or peck him on the cheeks, bile rises in my throat.
No fucking way will I ever turn into one of those people who beg for attention from a rock star just because they’re famous.
But Cole knows how to use it to his advantage, how to turn it into power. It’s how he controls everything around him, from the band’s image to his school grades by sucking up to the teacher … even me.
Not anymore.
With a smirk on my face, I wait until Cole’s distracted by one of his fans. I sneak into the crowd unseen and slip past until I reach his locker. It’s still slightly opened, as they all bombarded him when he was taking out his books for his next class, and it’s the opportunity I’ve been waiting for.
I shove the canister inside and attach the pull wire to the little door, then close it shut. Slithering away, I snicker to myself and wait on a bench at the end of the hallway with my bag clutched closely to my shoulder. A few minutes pass, and when the bell rings the fans dissipate and go to their classes. Cole spins on his heels to open his locker again. But instead of a book tumbling out, the canister sprays him with black paint until he’s completely covered.
I snort and let out the laughter while Cole backs away from the locker, looking confused as hell. People in the hallway laugh and snort at him. Then he turns my way, and I stop laughing … but the smug smirk never leaves my face.
The way he looks at me is the same as when he saw me snooping, but now I’m the one on the winning end of the game. And he doesn’t like it … not one bit.
I lick my lips in pleasure and stick up a middle finger before walking into the teacher’s bathroom. I don’t care if he follows me or not. What is he going to do to me? He’s already got me under his thumb by using my nudes as a way to blackmail me. Might as well enjoy this revenge while I still can.
As I apply some red lipstick, the door slams open and in marches Cole, covered in black paint from head to toe. He glares at me through the mirror, eyes narrowed, muscles tightened, as if he’s contemplating whether to shove me around or to release the picture. I continue applying my lipstick until I have puckered up, kissable lips that scream sex. Lips that will make him wish he never fucked with me. Because he may think he owns my body, but these lips are off-limits.
He doesn’t say a word.
Instead, he saunters to the sink, his eyes still blazing right at me. He opens the faucet and throws me a look. Then he takes off his shirt in one fell swoop and throws it in the sink. I work up my mascara and fix my hair, which has gotten all messed up from laughing so hard.
