Drawing Blood
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About this ebook
Finley Jayne uncovered the truth about Caine Butcher’s murder and eliminated any chance she had to blend in at Seaside Academy. She would like nothing more than to fade into obscurity... but fate has other plans.
When Rebecca Hamlin is found murdered on Halloween night, Finley can’t let the disturbing circumstances of her death go.
It’s not because Rebecca was uncharacteristically nice the week before she died. Or, that Finley has some unwavering desire to find the truth.
The detail haunting Finley is that Liam Butcher, the bad boy she occasionally makes out with, is the number one suspect.
Rumor has it Rebecca cheated on Butcher with Caine just before Caine was murdered. And half the student body saw Butcher and Rebecca in a heated argument hours before she died. But that doesn’t make him a murderer... does it?
Knowing she’ll be drawing attention to herself once more, Finley sets out to prove Butcher’s innocence - even if he refuses her help.
DRAWING BLOOD is the second book in the young adult thriller series, THE SEASIDE PREP HOCKEY MYSTERY SERIES. Fans of ONE OF US IS LYING and A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO MURDER can’t put this thrilling book down!
Heather C. Myers
Full disclosure: I am an acquired taste. I'm a typical blonde Orange County suburbanite who says 'like' more than necessary, laughs loud and probably obnoxiously, and loves to dance in the rain. I'm a 25 year old college graduate with more than a few tricks up my sleeve, and I also happen to be a pretty big Ducks fan. Oh, and I'm a writer. Like, for real.I recently signed with Anchor Group Publishing, which will see two of my series being published this year. I've self-published over 15 books, with more on the way, so I'm familiar with both a hybrid-traditional publishing method as well as self-publishing.I don't speak in third person (normally) nor do I wear glasses (except when I'm feeling particularly mischievous). I'm lucky to have found my soul mate at the ripe old age of 22, even though he frustrates me on purpose to get a reaction out of me. We live near Disneyland, have two rambunctious female puppies, and have a beautiful baby girl. He has two amazing boys, and has gotten me hooked on Smallville, watching soccer (okay, okay FOOTBALL - FC Barcelona, baby!), and Cancun Juice.
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Drawing Blood - Heather C. Myers
Chapter 1
Mr. Aguilar was officially arrested a week after he ran away. Nora was still at her home with her grandmother while I threw myself back into school, ignoring the questions I kept getting by fellow students. It was weird to go from the new scholarship kid at Seaside Prep to the most important girl on campus.
At least until the next hockey game, of course.
There was a reason this place was known for its hockey program. A high-nineties NHL draft percentage for all the varsity hockey players was something to boast about, and the entire school took it as seriously as Texas took football.
I, unlike ninety-five percent of the academy’s population, wanted nothing to do with hockey. I wasn’t a figure skater, either. I was just a student whose best friend went here, whose little sister wanted to attend like nobody’s business, and who didn’t want to be left behind while the two most important people chased after their dreams. I wasn’t sure if Seaside was a step towards my dreams because I had no idea what my dreams actually were, but being a journalist was something I liked, and I wanted to do more of that here – even if it ruffled feathers.
Hey, Finley Jayne,
a voice called from behind me. I turned to see one of the ice girls – girls who swept up the ice during breaks and intermissions in cute outfits – saunter towards me.
She was stunning.
Seaside got applicants from all over the States and Canada, and I swear, it seemed like only the most beautiful were accepted.
I knew this girl. She was a senior with dark hair and dark eyes. There was absolutely no flaw that existed on her person.
None at all.
She was the epitome of perfection, which annoyed the shit out of me because that wasn’t exactly fair.
I shook my head. I shouldn’t be trying to compare myself to other girls. I needed to stay in my lane.
Then again, I wished Nora would come back now that her father was arrested. I really needed her.
It was strange: so many people knew me, thanks to the article I wrote exposing the fact that hockey superstar and Coach Butcher’s oldest son didn’t commit suicide the way everyone thought, but was actually murdered by his girlfriend’s father, a sports agent who was upset that Caine was intent on backing out of a deal and exposing the fact that Mr. Aguilar engaged in signing contracts before it was allowed. All seniors were tied to the academy’s team; they couldn’t agree to an agent until the season was officially over. That was the rule. But Mr. Aguilar thought he was better than the rules and tried to go around them. Caine was going to expose the truth and he got killed for it.
Everyone was shocked. Mr. Aguilar was a big deal. Nora was the most popular girl at school. And now?
I didn’t know how everyone was going to react to her once she got back. I didn’t think she knew either. Maybe that was why she was holing up for as long as possible. I loved Nora, even if she did care about superficial things like high school hierarchy. And yet, despite that, she still was my best friend.
But now, everyone knew who I was. And not because I played hockey or won figure skating medals. At the same time, I had never felt more alone than I did right now.
I heaved a sigh as I headed down the long hallway that would eventually take me to my dorm. It was just after three, which meant classes were done and everyone was deciding what they were going to do for the afternoon until dinner. Most students just went to the rink and watched the varsity team practice. It was a chill place – literally – to hang out and procrastinate on homework.
I, on the other hand, hated the cold and didn’t subject myself to it unless I had to. Instead, I needed to figure out what I was planning to write my next article on. Since my last one was so successful, Bell had opted to let me pick a few topics and she would make the final decision. The problem was, I was stuck. I needed direction, a push, to help me figure out what I wanted to actually write about. What I wanted to immerse myself in. Because once I had a topic, once I committed to it, I went all in. To the point where I could lose myself if I wasn’t careful.
I reached the end of the academy wing and pushed the double doors that led into the girls’ dormitory. It was much quieter here. I assumed it was because no one was around, but it could be that students were actually doing homework. This was a prestigious private school, after all, and while hockey was the primary focus and what Seaside was known for, academics was also something it excelled at.
I shifted my bag on my shoulder. The weight of it added pressure to my muscles; I needed my earth science textbook because of a huge test we had coming up on Friday, and since anything science wasn’t exactly in my wheelhouse, I’d decided to start studying sooner in hopes that the information might stick.
I turned a corner, only to be confronted by the familiar figure of Liam Butcher. My breath vanished the second I saw him. I hated my reaction to him, hated that I was still somehow wrapped up in a daydream of the two of us being together. Just because we had kissed a couple of times didn’t mean we were in love or even that we were in some kind of committed relationship.
And yet, when I looked at him, everything else melted away. My heart skipped a beat because it was a traitor, making me feel things I definitely didn’t want to deal with. Didn’t want to feel.
He still looked the same. Of course, he did. It had only been a few days since I saw him, though he hadn’t been in Journalism for a while. I thought we ended things on a good note. At the very least, I thought we were friends.
But it was almost like he had been avoiding me.
I knew that sounded crazy, and I knew that as a varsity hockey player whose season just started, he was busy. Maybe I misread everything. Maybe those kisses between us, the gentle touching, the lingering stares, maybe I completely misread it all.
Or maybe I hadn’t and he was just being a dick.
Liam Butcher had a reputation for being a dick, after all. Even his own teammates didn’t like him. But few people knew why he was that way.
I closed my eyes. The sound of Cyrus Butcher, Liam’s father and hockey coach, hitting his son still rang in my ears. I had been hiding out in his cramped, slightly smelly closet. I’d wanted to go out. I’d wanted to do something about it.
But…I didn’t.
Shame colored my cheeks and my eyes sprang open. I nearly ran into a locker and barely managed to sidestep out of the way. I stayed in that closet because I didn’t want to embarrass Butcher. I didn’t want him to think I was coming to his rescue. I wanted him to know that I trusted him. I trusted how he was going to handle a situation like that.
But…but what if no one helped Butcher? What if everyone left him to figure things out on his own? After Caine died, it wasn’t like he had anyone to support him. His girlfriend had cheated on him with Caine so they weren’t talking. And I didn’t think he had any friends. His father wasn’t doing anything for his only remaining son, either.
Which meant he was alone.
I blew out a breath. Just because he lived a tragic life didn’t mean I could justify his actions…
But it also meant I needed to take responsibility for mine.
Instead of avoiding Butcher, instead of waiting for him to avoid me, I walked right over to him. He arched a brow at my arrival but didn’t try to leave, which I took as a decent sign. Whether it was good remained to be seen.
Hey,
I said.
Hey yourself.
I shifted my shoulders. Suddenly, I was at a loss. What the hell was I supposed to say now? I wished I was cooler than this. I wished I could write him a letter – which sounded stupid, but I was much better and wittier when I had time to think about what I was actually going to say. I knew what I wanted to say, but speaking the words to get my point across was not something I was actually good at.
Um, how are you?
I asked. I haven’t seen you in Journalism.
Dropped it,
he said.
What?
Suddenly, I forgot why I was nervous around him. Why would you do that?
I didn’t see it as necessary to further my education,
he said. Look, what the fuck is it to you?
I flinched. Was he really asking me that? After everything we had been through?
Something flashed in his heavy, dark eyes, something that might have passed for regret if it hadn’t vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Okay,
I said. I turned around, ready to walk away, when a hand grabbed my shoulder and forced me back around.
Look,
Butcher said, taking a step into my personal space. I tried not to notice, tried to pretend that he didn’t affect me in the slightest, but I was a liar, and a bad one at that. I can’t be in that classroom. I just… After everything, I can’t stand the fucking looks.
What makes Journalism different than, say, all of your other classes?
I asked. There shouldn’t be attitude in my voice, not when he was actually being honest about something, but this didn’t make sense. I didn’t take you for a coward.
Hey.
His voice was low. Gruff. He took another step towards me, his hand still on my shoulder. There’s no need for you to take it personally. It has nothing to do with you.
I glared at his hand and dropped my shoulder, forcing it to fall. I’m not taking it personally,
I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. What makes you think I would take it personally?
Without warning, Butcher’s lips began to draw up into his patented smirk. I wrinkled my nose, my cheeks turning hot. I knew exactly what he was thinking in that moment. About those kisses that set my body on fire. About how maybe I wanted to kiss him again, maybe even right here.
You’re the most arrogant prick I’ve ever met,
I said. Don’t think you have any effect on me, whether you’re in Journalism or not.
Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart,
he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning casually against the row of lockers. I think you want me to kiss you again.
I think you should go find someone else to kiss,
I said. My comebacks weren’t as witty as I hoped they would be. Maybe at that Halloween party everyone’s talking about. I’m sure you, the stud of the hockey team, can find someone desperate, willing, and lacking self-esteem to hook up with.
Butcher leaned towards me, invading my personal space. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I hated him for it. You think I’m a stud?
I think you’re an ass,
I said.
You know, sweetheart, you’re the only person I fucking let get away with talking to me like that, don’t you?
he asked, straightening. I am a bit of a bad boy, after all. Can’t have my reputation in tatters because some girl runs her mouth.
I run my –
I clenched my teeth together. What’re you going to do about it?
Suddenly, Butcher planted his palms on either side of my head, effectively trapping me against the lockers. He leaned in close, and this time, I was almost positive he was going to kiss me. I tilted my chin up and caught his eye. I wanted him to. Wanted to feel the rush his kisses gave me as they spread through my body and weakened my knees. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, wanted to claim him as my own. It scared me, how much I wanted this. I couldn’t even deny I cared.
Instead of pressing his lips to mine, he cocked his head to the side. He was so close to my face, I could feel his breath caress my skin.
There are plenty of things I can think of to do to you,
he said. Dirty things. Raunchy things. Things I can’t utter out loud but that haunt me late at night when I can’t sleep.
My mouth went dry at his words, and something pulsated deep inside my core. I didn’t trust myself to speak.
But I’m no good for you, Finley Jayne,
he said, finally pulling away. You’re too…sweet. You deserve someone who can, I don’t know, do romantic shit. Because that’s definitely not me.
He furrowed his brows. Did you say something about the Halloween party?
I was caught so off guard by his sudden change of subject that I found myself answering without thinking. Y-yeah,
I said.
Don’t go to that,
he said. It’s just bullshit. Not your scene.
With that, he dropped his arms and released me from the prison he created. He didn’t say another word and turned, walking away from me. He didn’t even look back.
Asshole.
How dare he tell me what was my scene and what wasn’t? Liam Butcher thought he knew everything, but I was going to prove he didn’t know anything about me. Maybe I wasn’t as sweet as he thought.
Chapter 2
I tried not to think about Liam Butcher. Thinking about him resulted in feeling things about him, and I would rather not think or feel anything for him at all.
I blew out a breath and tried to regain my senses. Ever since we saw each other that night after the home opener, after I told him about Mr. Aguilar, we hadn’t spoken. He dropped Journalism, and I wasn’t sure if it was because of me or if that made me pompous to think that I could affect him that much that I could control whether he showed up to class or not.
Because, if I could, I would have him come back to class.
I missed him.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I missed him, and it sucked not seeing that smug smirk or the wrinkle between Professor Bell’s brows that seemed to only appear when Butcher was being a smartass – and he was always being a smartass.
I just wasn’t expecting to see him randomly in the girls’ dorms. Why did he care if I was going to the Halloween party? Why was he in the girls’ dorms, anyway? Was he stopping by my dorm to see me?
I almost laughed at the notion. There was no way.
Which meant he was here for someone else.
My stomach churned at the thought and I forced myself not to stomp the rest of the way to my dorm room. I couldn’t let him get to me. I didn’t even know if he was trying to get to me.
I needed to get my head out of my ass and focus.
I rolled my shoulders back, trying to get the kinks out of my neck. I had a test I needed to study for in History, and I had yet to start my English paper on Tess of the D'urbervilles. I raked my fingers through my hair as I pulled out my keycard and let myself in my room.
And practically screamed bloody murder at a figure inside.
No.
Not just a figure.
Was that…Nora?
My scream turned into a squeal that Nora threw back at me.
Nora?
I asked, just to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.
Nora was standing in the middle of the room, black hair styled into a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. She wore a pair of dark skinny jeans and a plunging neckline that wasn’t too bad because her breasts weren’t overly large, so she could get away with it.
She looked incredibly pretty even though this was Nora not trying.
Are you so excited to see me?
she asked in typical cocky Nora fashion.
I didn’t even care.
I was just glad she was back.
Um, duh,
I said. I practically skipped over to her, pulling her into a tight hug. She hugged me back with just as much fervor, which made any concerns I had about our friendship dissipate.
I had been worried that Nora wouldn’t forgive me after uncovering what her father did. Not only had her boyfriend been killed by her father, but her father claimed he’d done it for her, indirectly making her responsible for Caine’s death.
Obviously, that wasn’t true.
Mr. Aguilar had a twisted sense of facts and what the truth was. I didn’t think he even realized what his words actually meant, how Nora might take them. As it was, I was her best friend, something constant and steady throughout this storm.
Until I was the one who uncovered the truth.
I was the person who was supposed to be in her corner. Who was supposed to have her