Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 12: Twist Of Fate

Justin's POV

I know she told me to pick her up. I didn't.

I woke up with a nasty headache, the kind that made me want to punch someone. The voices were back with a vengeance, clawing at my mind, reminding me why I fucking hate Mondays. Last night had been... satisfying. Pretty Cat had taken everything I gave her, every brutal thrust, every ounce of frustration I needed to release. And the whole time, I pictured June beneath me—moaning, breaking, taking everything I gave her.

What was Pretty Cat thinking about while I was wrecking her? I don't know. I don't care. But she did tell me she wanted to forget. And I made sure she did. The only thing she'd remember was me, buried deep inside her. Just like she wanted.

But now, back in my place, the headache was splitting my skull, and the demons in my head were louder than ever. I came to one clear decision—I wasn't going to be a tool for June to get back with that asshole. If she wanted Bart back, she could crawl after him on her own. I wasn't her damn puppet.

That's not the only reason you don't want to help her.

I shut the thought down before it could go further. I wasn't going there.

Like every morning, I got ready for school. My entire wardrobe was black—hoodies, gloves, pants, shirts. Black was perfect. It kept people away. It didn't make me stand out. It matched the void inside me.

I pulled on my hoodie, gloved my hands, and grabbed my helmet. I had a car, but I preferred my motorcycle. No traffic. No parking bullshit. Just the feel of the wind against me, cutting through my thoughts, silencing the chaos—even if only for a little while.

Today was going to be a long fucking day.

I knew she'd be mad that I didn't pick her up. Or at least that I didn't tell her I wasn't coming. But I didn't care.

I was already late.

June had called and messaged countless times, her name flashing on my screen like some urgent emergency. And this—this—was exactly why I didn't like people. They expected you to be at their beck and call, like their problems were the only thing that mattered. Like you weren't dealing with your own shit. Your own demons. Your own voices clawing at your skull.

June seemed like one of those people. The ones who always expected you to show up. Who thought that just because you agreed to something, you were suddenly theirs to summon.

And yet, I couldn't shake the irony. The girl who was once quiet. The one who used to keep to herself, who believed that if she stayed small, if she didn't stand out, the monsters wouldn't find her. Now? She was the queen bee. The center of attention. A girl who owned the spotlight.

I guess her monsters didn't follow her.

Must be nice.

Just as I suspected, she was already at campus.

The moment I parked my bike, there she was—standing tall, chin high, looking every bit the queen bee she had become. Sometimes, I found it hard to associate this June with the girl I used to know. The one from before. And the fact that she didn't remember anything? That she could look me in the eyes and not know?

Yeah. That pissed me off more than I cared to admit.

"I thought we agreed you were supposed to pick me up so the rumors could start circulating about us," she said, crossing her arms like she had some authority over me.

I barely spared her a glance. "I've realized I'm not interested."

Her eyes went wide, her face heating up with anger. "You can't do that. We already agreed," she snapped, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.

I shrugged, my expression blank. Unbothered. "I can. And I just did."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she seethed, stepping closer. "You can't do this to me, Justin! I signed the stupid assignment!"

I turned, walking toward the school building without breaking stride. "Like you should have done the moment I told you I did it," I said coolly.

She stopped following me.

I didn't have to turn around to know she was fuming.

"You... you jerk!" she yelled, her frustration spilling over. I heard the stomp of her foot against the pavement, the kind of childish tantrum that should have made me smirk.

But I didn't.

I just kept walking.

I didn't look back.

I could feel her glare burning into my back, could practically hear the frustration radiating off her. But I didn't care. I had bigger things to deal with than some spoiled princess throwing a fit because she didn't get her way.

She thought she could use me? Thought I was some pawn in her stupid little game to win back that bastard, Bart?

Not happening.

I made my way through the campus halls, ignoring the stares, the whispers, the girls who thought they were being subtle as they watched me pass. They always did. I was the guy nobody talked to but everybody noticed. The guy people were too scared to approach, yet too intrigued to ignore. And I liked it that way.

I reached my locker, twisting the combination lock with ease. The familiar sound of metal clicking open was the only thing grounding me in the moment—until a presence settled beside me.

I didn't need to turn my head to know who it was.

June.

Her scent—something light and sweet, like vanilla and something else I couldn't quite place—hit me before she spoke.

"You're seriously ignoring me?" Her voice was sharp, but there was something beneath it. Something she was trying to hide.

I exhaled, not bothering to look at her. "I thought that was obvious."

"You can't just—" She cut herself off, letting out a slow breath like she was trying to reel in her anger. "You agreed to this."

"And I changed my mind."

I slammed my locker shut, finally turning my gaze to hers.

Big mistake.

Because for a moment—just a flicker of a second—I saw something behind the anger. Something raw. Something vulnerable.

And I fucking hated it.

Hated that she still had that effect on me. Hated that even now, when I should be pushing her away, my brain won't.

She clenched her jaw, tilting her chin up in defiance. "You're an asshole."

I smirked, leaning in slightly. "And you're delusional if you thought I was ever gonna be your little revenge toy."

Her eyes flared, her hands balling into fists at her sides. Good. Let her be pissed. Let her realize I wasn't playing by her rules.

"Fine," she bit out, spinning on her heel. "Go to hell, Justin."

She stormed off, her hair whipping behind her as she disappeared into the crowded hallway.

I should have felt relieved. Should have felt satisfied that I'd shut this whole thing down before it went too far.

But as I stood there, watching her go, I realized something.

I was already in hell.

I should have just kept walking. Should have ignored her and left her to deal with whatever bullshit drama she created.

But then I heard it.

The sharp crack of a hand meeting skin.

A sickening slap.

Then her voice—a sharp intake of breath, like she was forcing herself not to react.

I turned the corner, and there she was.

June.

Pressed against the lockers, her face turned to the side, a red mark blooming on her cheek.

And standing in front of her? Bart fucking Anderson and her so-called best friend.

The air in the hallway felt suffocating. Students stood frozen in place, watching the scene unfold like vultures hungry for drama.

"You really have no shame, do you?" The girl—her former best friend—spat at her, arms crossed, a cruel smirk twisting her lips. "After sleeping around and getting dumped, now you want to steal my boyfriend? You seriously disgust me, June."

A crowd had already gathered, their whispers swirling through the hallway like a damn wildfire.

"She's such a cheat, no wonder he dumped her."

"I heard she slept with someone else."

"God, she's desperate."

"Maybe she's really just a whore."

June's jaw tightened, her entire body trembling—not from fear, but from anger. "Are you seriously saying that?" Her voice was dangerously quiet. "You were the one who slept with Bart. You were the one who stabbed me in the back. And now you're trying to act like I'm the villain?"

June's hands were clenched into fists, her whole body shaking—but not with fear. With anger.

Bart scoffed, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. "Guess you've finally been exposed, huh, June? I should've known you were just a lying slut."

Bart chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his presence looming over her. "You should've known your place, June. I don't do failures."

I saw it before anyone else did—the flicker of pain that crossed her face. It was quick, barely noticeable, but it was there.

And I fucking lost it.

Then the bastard grabbed her chin, tilting her face up forcefully. "Maybe I should've just used you for a quick fuck and tossed you aside earlier—"

I don't remember moving.

One second, I was at the edge of the crowd. The next, my fist was colliding with Bart's jaw.

The sickening crack of bone meeting bone echoed through the hallway.

Bart staggered back, clutching his face, eyes wide with shock. The crowd gasped. Some screamed.

I didn't give him time to recover.

I grabbed him by his collar, slamming him against the lockers. "Touch her again," I growled, my voice dangerously low, "and I'll break every single fucking bone in your body."

Bart coughed, groaning, but I wasn't done. I leaned in, voice dropping even lower—a terrifying whisper only he could hear.

"And don't you ever forget that she's mine now."

His face twisted in fury, but I shoved him back before he could say another word. He stumbled, barely catching himself.

"You seriously think she cheated on you?" I said, shaking my head. "Nah, man. She upgraded."

I turned to June.

She was still standing there, lips parted, stunned, looking at me like I was something she couldn't quite figure out.

She looked so damn small.

So damn helpless.

And I hated it.

Hated that she had to endure this. Hated that I had to step in. Hated that she still didn't remember.

So I did the only thing I knew.

I claimed her.

I gripped her waist, yanking her against me, and crushed my mouth onto hers.

The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle.

It was raw.

Possessive.

A silent promise. A warning to every single person watching.

My fingers dug into her waist, holding her tight, pressing her against my body so she felt everything—every inch of me, every ounce of fury coursing through my veins.

She gasped against my mouth, and I swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, taking, owning.

Her hands clutched my hoodie, as if she needed something to keep her from falling apart.

And fuck. I hated that I liked it..

I pulled away slightly, our breaths mingling, her lips swollen, her eyes glazed over with shock.

Then I whispered low, just for her.

"You're mine now, June. Act like it."

My voice was dark. Dangerous. Terrifying.

The guys in the crowd shifted uncomfortably.

The girls?

They fucking swooned.

I didn't wait for her to respond.

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"Now, if you'll excuse us," I said smoothly, grabbing her hand. "We have class to get to."

And with that, I walked off, dragging a stunned June behind me, leaving the entire school in shock.

Leaving behind a broken Bart.