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“I have a change of clothes in my locker. You can borrow them.”
My heart flutters. “Erm, thanks. Why are you so nice when everyone else is mean?”
“I moved here too. Five years ago. I know what it’s like to be the new kid. Had to fight to get some respect.” He glances over his shoulder at the cafeteria. “Listen, um…?”
“Michel.”
“Michel. There’s a hierarchy here that’s difficult to navigate. I wish I could tell you it will get better, but I can’t promise that. What I can promise is that if you ever need me, I’ll be there. It’s immature bullshit.”
Nodding, I shake off a chunk of mud from my arm. “I appreciate it.”
“Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Thus began the nightmare. I endured years of torture at the hands of my schoolmates. They taunted me relentlessly for my accent, my name, my weight, my clothes, my food, my lack of athletic ability, and my achievement in course work. I was spat on, tripped, battered, and mocked. No adult ever came to my defense. Eli got in way too many fights on my behalf.
After I could no longer hide the bruises from my parents, we went to the principal, who was ineffective. They enrolled me in karate, which was laughable. I endured until graduation day. My only saving grace? The boy who promised he would be there for me, and was, as best he could be.
Eli Julius.
The most beautiful boy in the all the world. Popular, sexy, smart, always with a pretty girl on his arm. He said hello to me in the halls, and sometimes even ate his lunch with me. I helped him with his homework, and he taught me about American pop culture. He called out his peers for being jerks, and took their verbal insults for doing it.
Sometimes, they called him gay, which seemed to sting a bit for him, and made my queer heart break for the future that could never be.
I loved Eli Julius.
I loved him as much as I hated everyone else in this town. Even the adults were jerks. I begged my parents to move, but my dad’s job was too good. So I suffered through high school, counting down the days to college to escape my captors.
But I had a plan. One day I would return to Neubrook and exact my vengeance on all the bullies here. I didn’t know how I would do it, but I wouldn’t stop until every single one of them paid for what they did to me.
I would have my revenge on the town of Neubrook, and oh, would it be sweet.
ChapterOne
MICHEL
After being away for more than a decade, stepping into Neubrook Bank is as surreal as driving down Main Street was. I’ve been away a long time, but not even my parents periodically sharing the changes in town could prepare me for the reality of it.
Once an affluent area with an abundance of restaurants, shops, and entertainment options, it’s now a shadow of that. Rows of empty buildings greet me, and the thriving center is nothing but a ghost town now. I’m told it’s because of young people fleeing to the larger city of New Onyx, but there are plenty of thriving retirement communities around the country, so what happened to this one?
As I pace the bank lobby waiting for my appointment, I watch the goings-on outside through the large front window. My Maserati is getting quite a few second glances, as I expected it would. A smug smile plays on my lips. Neubrook has no idea what is about to happen to it.
“Mr. Toussaint?”
I twist around at the sound of my name. A man I don’t recognize stands behind me wearing an ill-fitting suit in an unattractive shade of brown. He’s shorter than me by several inches, and I would guess from his thinning hair and general disposition, much older than me.
“That is me. Are you Harold Turner?”
“I am. Follow me, please.”
I nod, walking past the bank customers who stare at me like they’re seeing a ghost. In a way, they are. The last time residents of this town laid eyes on me, I was a chubby kid with acne, glasses, and the social graces of a raccoon. They would never connect that version with the man I am today. With my bespoke suit, expensive Italian loafers, and attractive features, I look like I belong in Hollywood more than Neubrook, and all it took was a date with darkness.
But I want to be here. I’ve been waiting for the day I could return to execute my plan. Has it been more than a decade since high school? Yes. Has time done anything to undo the damage I suffered here? Not at all.
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Toussaint?” Harold asks as he sits at a large wood desk.
“Did you grow up here, Mr. Turner?”
The man smiles. “Please call me Harold. I didn’t. I moved here to manage the bank two years ago.”
