Defile (Civil Corruption Book 2) Read online

  Defile

  a Civil Corruption novel

  Jessica Prince

  Copyright © 2018 by Jessica Prince

  www.authorjessicaprince.com

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Discover Other Books by Jessica

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Consume Excerpt

  Discover Other Books by Jessica

  About the Author

  Discover Other Books by Jessica

  THE PICKING UP THE PIECES SERIES:

  Picking up the Pieces

  Rising from the Ashes

  Pushing the Boundaries

  Worth the Wait

  THE COLORS NOVELS:

  Scattered Colors

  Shrinking Violet

  Love Hate Relationship

  Wildflower

  THE LOCKLAINE BOYS (a LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP spinoff):

  Fire & Ice

  Opposites Attract

  Almost Perfect

  THE PEMBROOKE SERIES (a WILDFLOWER spinoff):

  Sweet Sunshine

  Coming Full Circle

  A Broken Soul

  CIVIL CORRUPTION SERIES

  Corrupt

  Defile

  GIRL TALK SERIES:

  Seducing Lola

  Tempting Sophia

  Enticing Daphne

  Charming Fiona

  STANDALONE TITLES:

  Chance Encounters

  Nightmares from Within

  DEADLY LOVE SERIES:

  Destructive

  Addictive

  Chapter One

  Tatum

  Seven years old

  I pumped the brakes on my bicycle, bringing it to a fast stop. With my feet on the ground, I reached up, pulled the Tootsie Pop from my mouth, and tossed it aside before speaking. “Hey.” The boy who’d been sitting on the curb lifted his head at the sound of my voice. “Whatcha doin’ sitting out here?”

  He looked up at me, and I noticed his eyes were a funny shade of blue I’d never seen before. From where I stood, they looked almost gray. It was the coolest color I’d ever seen.

  “Nothin’,” he grumbled, looking back down at the ground. He kicked a rock, and something shiny caught my attention.

  I pushed the kickstand down with my foot and climbed off to get a better look. Duct tape covered the whole toe of his shoe. “Why’s your shoe got tape on it?” I asked, sitting down on the curb next to him.

  He curled his lip up like I was annoying him. “To hold it together, duh.”

  I scrunched my face up and stuck out my tongue. “Well you don’t gotta be so mean about it. I was only asking a question.”

  “You were bein’ nosy is what you were doin’,” the boy threw back, but for some reason instead of getting mad that he was being a turd, I found it kind of fun.

  “Why don’t you just ask your mommy to get you a new pair?”

  The boy looked at me like I was crazy. “’Cause these are my lucky shoes,” he answered. “You can’t just get a new pair of lucky shoes,” he finished with a snort, like I should’ve already known that.

  “What’s so lucky about them?”

  For the first time since I laid eyes on him, he seemed interested in talking to me. “I was wearing ’em the first time I played basketball, and I made, like, a billion shots. And I was wearing ’em the first time I picked up a guitar, and now I’m a freakin’ pro at it.”

  I sat up straight and my eyes went big. “You play the guitar?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s so awesome!” I cried, scooting closer. “So, are you gonna be, like, a famous musician one day?”

  “Pfft. Yeah. Totally. I’m gonna be super famous.”

  “Cool,” I whispered reverently.

  “Cool,” he returned.

  We sat quiet for a really long time, and I started to feel a little weird that neither of us was saying anything. “I’m Tatum. What’s your name?” I finally asked when the silence started to bug me too much to ignore.

  “Declan.”

  I let out a little giggle. “Declan? That’s your name?”

  He scowled at me the same way my daddy did that time I used his fancy tie to wash the dishes.

  “Yeah? So?”

  “So it’s a stupid name.” I laughed. “Who’s named Declan?”

  “It’s not stupid!” he shouted. “It’s an awesome name. And you’re one to talk. You’ve got ugly hair!”

  I tugged at the frizzy red strands, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “My hair’s not ugly,” I whispered.

  We grew silent once again, and he looked like he regretted making fun of my hair.

  “So, I’ve never seen you before. Did you just move here?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he grumbled, looking back to the ground, kicking at a few of the pebbles. “My dad’s work made him move from San Diego, so I had to come. It’s so dumb. I hate it here.”

  “Hey! It’s not so bad. There’s lots of places to ride your bike. And there’s a really neat stream back in the woods behind the neighborhood. I could show you all the fun stuff to do if you want.”

  “Why would I do that?” Declan made a face like he smelled something gross. “You’re a girl.”

  My anger made my spine stiff, causing me to sit up straighter as I narrowed my eyes into slits. It was a face I made a lot. My mom liked to say it was because I had a redhead’s temper, whatever that meant. She said I got it from her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re nasty and got cooties and I don’t wanna be your friend, so leave me alone.”

  I stood and slammed my hands on my hips. “You’d be lucky to be my friend! I’m a great friend!”

  He rolled his eyes and laughed. “Whatever.”

  I let out a huff, unable to come up with words mean enough to make him feel as bad as I felt right then. When I couldn’t think of anything to say, I resorted to my usual reaction whenever I got angry. I hauled back and kicked him right in the shin.

  “You’re a jerk-face!” I shouted. Then I ran to my bike, hopped on, and peddled home as fast as my legs would take me.

  “Children, quiet down, please,” our teacher, Mrs. Heffernan, ordered. “We have a new student starting with us today. Please welcome Declan Forrester to our class.”

  My head shot up and my gaze landed on the mean boy with dark hair and pretty gray-blue eyes that I’d kicked a few days before. He was staring rig
ht at me, the attention making my skin tingly and itchy.

  The classroom filled with whispers as he moved to take the empty desk next to mine. I looked back down at the notebook I’d been drawing in, still upset with him because of how rude he’d been the first time I met him.

  I felt him staring at me the whole time Mrs. Heffernan went on about the difference between verbs and adverbs. Every time I peeked up, I found him still watching me.

  I did my best to pretend he wasn’t there, but he was making it really hard.

  “Psst.”

  I scribbled harder, my pencil nearly tearing through the page.

  “Psssssst!”

  “What?” I hissed, slapping my hand on my desk.

  Mrs. Heffernan’s attention came our way. “Declan, Tatum? Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

  “No, ma’am,” we mumbled at the same time.

  He stopped bugging me for the rest of the lesson, and when it was time for recess I practically ran out of the room to avoid him.

  I was sitting underneath a tall tree near the fence line with my head down, my notebook in my lap, and my pencil in hand when a shadow suddenly crawled over the page. Declan stood over me, staring with those cool eyes of his. I’d worked really hard to avoid him all week long, and I didn’t want to talk to him now.

  “What do you want?” I snapped.

  “How come you don’t play with the other girls during recess?”

  I glanced over to where Stephanie Walters and the rest of the girls were pretending to have a tea party. Tea parties were stupid. I’d rather have been playing tetherball, but the boys wouldn’t let me play with them because I was a girl. It hurt my feelings, but my mom told me that when I got older, the boys would stop being so mean and would eventually want to play with me.

  I tipped my head back down to my drawing, letting my long hair block Declan’s view of my face as I muttered my answer. “’Cause they don’t like me.”

  The leaves on the ground crunched as he sat down beside me. “Why don’t they like you?”

  My face scrunched up like I’d just tasted something nasty. “Because I don’t like to play their dumb girly games, so they always make fun of me.”

  “Well, it’s their loss. You don’t need them anyway. They’re losers.”

  The pencil fell out of my hands at the same time my mouth dropped open. “Why’re you being nice to me? Last week you said you didn’t want to be my friend. You called me gross.”

  He shrugged and started pulling blades of grass from the ground. “Yeah well, I didn’t mean it,” he grumbled. “I decided I wanna be your friend after all.”

  I wasn’t sure why that made me so happy, but my chest got tight and my heart did a funny flippy thing. “Really?”

  “Yeah, sure. I guess. Besides, you’ve got cool hair.”

  My smile stretched so wide my cheeks started to hurt. “And I think your lucky shoes are really awesome.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up in a little grin. “Thanks.”

  “So… best friends?”

  I held my hand out for him to shake just like I saw my daddy do with other men. Declan took my hand in his and pumped it up and down so hard my body jerked, causing me to giggle.

  “Best friends,” he agreed.

  Chapter Two

  Tatum

  Eleven years old

  I pumped the brakes on my bike and hopped off before it came to a full stop. After propping it against the side of the house, I took the porch steps two at a time and knocked loudly, excited to get to Declan.

  It had been three days since I last saw him. Thanks to the nasty flu that had been going around our school, my best friend had been out sick most of the week, leaving me all by myself.

  Luckily, he’d called a little while earlier to tell me he was feeling better and that his mom said he wasn’t contagious anymore, so I’d jumped on my bike and sped to his house. I’d missed him like crazy. He was pretty much the only friend I had, and school had been lonely without him.

  His mom opened the door and offered me a kind smile.

  “Hi, Mrs. Forrester. I’m here to see Declan.”

  “Sure thing, sweetie.” She stepped to the side so I could come in. “He’s upstairs with his other friends. You can just go on up.”

  I jerked to a stop at the bottom of the stairs and looked back at her. “His other friends?” A sick feeling I didn’t like one bit twisted my stomach into knots. “What other friends?”

  “Oh, just some boys from around the neighborhood.” She turned and headed into the kitchen, leaving me standing there with an aching chest.

  I moved up the steps at a much slower pace, suddenly nowhere near as excited as I’d been just a second before. I knew it was a stupid thing to think, but he’d been my best friend for the past four years. It had always been just us. I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of sharing him with other kids.

  I could hear a bunch of voices as I got to the top of the stairs and silently moved toward Declan’s open bedroom door. I stopped at the threshold and stared in at the unfamiliar faces, feeling totally out of place.

  “Hey, Tate!” Declan cried when he saw me. He sounded happy to see me, and that helped to untangle some of the knots that had twisted up in my belly.

  “Hi.” I waved shyly as the rest of the boys turned to look at me.

  “Tate, these are my friends Will, Killian, and Garrett. Guys, this is my best friend, Tatum.”

  I smiled brightly at Declan introducing me as his best friend. Unfortunately, Killian curled his upper lip and ruined it by asking, “You have a girl as your best friend?”

  Declan shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah, so? Don’t you have girls for friends?”

  “Not unless I wanna make out with them.”

  Declan made a face like he’d just sucked on a lemon. “Oh gross! Are you for real? I’d never make out with Tate. She’s just my friend.”

  Hearing Declan say that like it was the most disgusting idea on the planet hurt my feelings terribly. And because of my redheaded temper, when my feelings got hurt, I got mad.

  “What’s so gross about kissing me, huh? I bet I could be a good kisser.”

  His friends started laughing, and Declan’s cheeks turned a weird red color. “I just don’t think of you that way, Tate. You’re not like a normal girl.”

  I put my hands on my hips and glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m just sayin’. You’re cool and stuff, but I’d rather kiss a girl who’s more… I don’t know, girly or something. Like a girl who wears dresses.”

  Tears burned the backs of my eyes as I looked down at my outfit: a comfortable pair of shorts I’d made out of an old pair of jeans, my favorite T-shirt that had a hole in the left armpit, and my black Converse tennis shoes. My parents had taught me to dress and act however I liked, and not care about what other people thought, but just then I felt like I wasn’t good enough, and that was something I’d only felt around Stephanie Walters and her stupid friends. I never expected that Declan would make me feel like that.

  “Yeah, well I wouldn’t kiss you either ’cause you’re a loser!”

  Declan’s eyebrows dipped together as his mouth turned down in a frown. “Well you couldn’t pay me to make out with you. You aren’t even pretty!”

  “I-I hate you!” My voice made a funny cracking noise as hot tears fell down my face. I turned and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind me before jumping on my bike and rushing home.

  By the time I got there, I was crying so hard my mom freaked out.

  “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  The only thing I could manage to get out was a garbled “I hate Declan Forrester so much! He’s a big fat jerk!” Then I let her hold me while I bawled.

  My eyes shot open at the sound coming from my bedroom window. It was late at night, so the room was pitch black. The tapping came from the window again, and I pulled the covers over my head and burr
owed down further into the bed, trying my best to hide from whatever was out there.

  The tapping started again, and I was just about to scream bloody murder when I heard a voice. “Tatum, it’s me. Open up.”

  Throwing the covers back, I shot out of the bed and rushed across the room. “Declan?” I hissed after pushing the window open. He was standing on the little ledge right outside my window. “Why are you at my house? How’d you even get up here?”

  He looked over his shoulder toward the ground. “I climbed up the side of your front porch. Are you gonna let me in?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled. “No. I’m mad at you. Go away.”

  “Ah, come on, Tate,” he whined. “It’s cold out here, and I’m scared I’m gonna fall. I snuck out to see you. Please let me in.”

  Huffing out a breath, I rolled my eyes and moved back to sit on my bed. Once he climbed into my room, I noticed he was wearing nothing but a pair of flip-flops with sleep pants and a plain white T-shirt. “You climbed onto my roof in a pair of flip-flops?” I scolded. “Are you crazy? You could’ve fallen!” Even mad at him I couldn’t help but worry about his safety.

  “It’s the middle of the night, Tate. I couldn’t knock on your front door. Your parents wouldn’t have let me in, and I needed to talk to you.”

  My forehead wrinkled as I watched him move closer, coming to sit down on the mattress beside me. “Why? You want to be a jerk to me some more?” I asked bitterly.