Resist (London)

Prologue

Harper

I’m me.

It’s a basic concept you might think, just being yourself. It’s not really though, society has rules, regulations and stigmas attached to every action.
 
 

Those of you with parents who love you, parents who have cared for you all your life and parents who always put you first, you can’t understand me, so don’t try. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who complain about everything life has handed them because they had a 'bad' childhood. No.

There are too many different meanings to that term and too many people use it loosely. I make the most of what I have and I'm happy. I don't let stupid, needless, petty things bother me, ever. Screw the past, it really is not important.

This is the new me, I do what I want, when I want and to hell with anyone who thinks that they can tell me otherwise. Harper Marie
Groves does not follow rules...never...
ever.
 I live life, I enjoy it, and I god damn suck it dry.

Life’s too short to live any other way, wouldn’t you say?

I have no money, no car, a shitty apartment...but I have two best friends who I couldn’t live without and I’m hot, I know I’m hot, I get told all the time. I sleep around, but I’m not a slut. I don’t do it for attention, but it’s a nice bonus and I definitely don’t promise any of them anything. Most of them are exactly the same way as me anyway. Who wants to get saddled being in a serious relationship when they’re still young?

Not me. That’s for damn certain.

I don’t go back to the same guy, no matter how good he is. Well, maybe once or twice, but that's it! 

Anything more than that always ends up leading someone to expect more, and I’m not willing to give that. I’ll be
honest, there really are not many men who could handle me anyway!

I’m good to people, but only people who deserve it. I speak my mind always; sometimes it’s appropriate, sometimes...it...is...
not.
 But it is what it is, and it’s 
me
. I don’t bitch behind anyone’s back, if I have something to say to someone then I’ll say it. Simple.

I guess there’s a reason I am how I am. I grew up in Carl and Janice Groves’ house. Thousands of rules to abide by,
 
strict
doesn’t even come close. I was never allowed to go out past seven pm, even in my teenage years, I was never allowed a boyfriend, never allowed to go any further than my best friend Taylor’s house. I just wasn’t allowed to do much at all really. It wasn’t good, but it was never particularly 
that
 bad until well...
something
 happened.

I can’t talk about what happened, I never have and never will. Even Taylor and Jase don’t know what happened. They may well have their suspicions, but I can’t imagine they’d ever know the true story, or even have a clue what really happened.
  It changed me, hurt me and made me realise that no matter what, I’ll do what I want and when I want to do it.

Or so I thought.

My rules were my own and I was enjoying my life. It worked...but Mason 
fucking
 Brent didn’t think so.

He wanted a new set of rules...rules I didn’t want to abide by. I swear he could single
handedly take over the world, one
victim
 at a time. He started with me, I’m the beginning. He changed my world, my life, my heart and changed my outlook on everything and anything. He’s powerful, superior, beautiful, life-changing...and 
mine.

Was it easy? No

Was it nice? Not all the time.

Was it worth it?
 
Fuck
 yes.

Resisting change isn’t always the right thing to do because
 
change
 doesn't always have to be a bad thing. 

Chapter One

Harper

I groaned and turned to the side, blinking a couple of times. My head was fuzzy.

Where was I?

I didn’t know. But I did know that I wasn’t at home. I wasn’t where I should have been. I didn’t have much chance to think about it before an unattractive grunt sounded from behind me. I cringed. I hated the morning after, especially when the night before was a huge mistake. Glancing over my shoulder, I grimaced, what the fuck made me go home with
that guy? I’ll never know.

He was
not unattractive, but he snored and he had so much product in his hair that it was all stuck to his head. Gross.

I could feel it on my fingers too, which made me remember tugging on his hair the night before, practically begging him to fuck me harder.

He didn’t.

He was shit in bed and I was sorely disappointed.
Time to leave. I raced around his bedroom gathering my belongings and getting dressed. I wasn’t actually wearing much so it didn’t take long.

I heard movement and I stilled.

Please don’t wake up!

Thankfully, he stayed asleep.
I really wasn’t in the mood to try and give him tips on how to give a girl an orgasm, I doubt he would have appreciated it anyway. They rarely do.

Honestly, you’d think guys would appreciate me telling them how to give a girl pleasure. If they don’t know how to do it properly, they’re never going to b
e able to keep a woman...not a sane one anyway.

Apparently, it just makes me a bitch. Hey ho, not like I care, I’ve heard it all before.

Creeping out of the house, I blew out a sigh of relief when I realised I actually did know where I was, but it was still too far to walk home.

Pulling out my phone, I called my best friend, Taylor. She’s the only person I knew who had a car and well, I guess she’s kind of used to having to rescue me.

She answered on sigh.

“Where are you?”

“In Fulham, Grange Road.”

“I can be there in ten, meet me on the corner.”

And she hung up.

See, told you she was used to rescuing me. It’s not exactly a regular occurrence...usually I’m closer to home and I can just walk.

I’m not a slut. I’m not a slut. I’m not a slut.

I might not know exactly how many people I have slept with and I might not know hardly any of their names either, but
I...am...
not
...a...slut.

I like the attention. I like knowing I look good.

What girl doesn’t?

The thing is
, I just get away with things that most girls don’t actually think they can get away with. They should probably try their luck, all guys like a girl with confidence right?

Not every girl wants the church wedding
, the white picket fence and two point five children.

I certainly don’t.

Maybe one day, possibly.

Children.
I want children. I just don’t want the commitment and responsibility of a relationship. So I suppose the children will have to wait!

I like my freedom. It’s important to me, no, not just important, it’s imperative. I don’t like being told what to do, ever! I don’t like having to compromise on what I want. And I don’t like other people thinking that they’re better than me.

They’re not.

So, I know I sound like a bitch, but that’s not the case
, not really. People just don’t understand me. I’m a good person, a nice person and I love fiercely.

But that fierce love?
Belongs solely to two people. The only two people who I have in the entire world. The greatest two people I have ever, and probably will ever know.

My Taylor and my Jase.

And yes, they really are mine.

We’re all so utterly messed up in our own ways. Yet, it just, works.

They are the only people in my life, sort of by choice...ish.

I haven’t seen or spoken to my parents in over five years. They don’t care. They expected it. They didn’t try, didn’t look for me,
didn’t even phone me.

Not.
Once.

I could have more friends if I wanted. I could probably be ‘miss-popularity’
because I really am amazing, truly! Fact is though, I just don’t want to. I don’t need it.

Plus, new people judge.
I can’t stand the thought of being judged, I never have been able to. I know Taylor and Jase have more they want to say to me sometimes and I know they bite their tongues more often than not about the things I’ve done. But they also know better than to actually say anything. That was just who I was. Who I am.

I like attention.
A lot. But only the good kind. I like to be checked out by guys. I like to have jealous bitches scowl at me because they damn well wish they looked like I do. If I could thank my parents for anything, which really wouldn’t be much, I’d thank them for the fact that I’m beautiful.

It’s not big-headed or arrogant. I don’t pretend that everyone would want me, or want to be me and I don’t pretend to be perfect. But there are not many girls who could look in the mirror and be truly happy with what they see.

I am.

I never claimed to be sweet or innocent and I’m almost definitely slightly fucked up in the head but that’s just how it is and I have no intentions of changing it. It’s not like I’ll fuck anyone. I won’t. Girls gotta have standards.

I’ve never fucked anyone ugly, fat, balding, old...you get the picture.

I don’t have to hook-up
every time I go out, now that really would be slutty. But when I’m on it, I’m
on...it.

You can be damn sure that on those nights, I would not have been going home alone.

I walked to the corner, ignoring the fact that some stuck-up bitch turned her nose up at the sight of me on the street.

So yeah, maybe I did look a bit worse for wear. One of my fake eyelashes was hanging off, I was still in what was left of the night before’s make-up and my dress was a little too short to be considered ‘decent’ but...fuck her. Nobody has the right to judge me.

I saw Taylor’s car pull up and got straight in.

“You look...interesting.” Was the greeting she gave
me.

“Yeah, I feel it too.”

“What was his name?”

I shrugged, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t see him again anyway so I didn’t need to.

We didn’t speak after that. We rarely did when she picked me up in the morning. She knew I wouldn’t listen to whatever she had to say.

Pulling up outside my apartment, she turned off the engine and spoke to me.