Rixon Raiders: The Collection

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Rixon Raiders: The Collection Page 22

by L A Cotton


  After this morning at Cameron’s house, I needed a distraction. Something to occupy my mind so I didn’t spend every waking minute replaying the way he’d kissed me, the way my body had come to life at his touch. My skin began to tingle, my stomach clenching as I let the memories wash over me. Frustrated at myself, I shook away the intrusive thoughts and focused on the task at hand.

  Drawing had always been a way for me to relax, to switch off from life and lose myself in nothing but the swoosh of a brush against a fresh canvas, or the scratch of a finely sharpened pencil against a crisp page in my sketch pad. I couldn’t remember a time when I hadn’t loved to draw. As a child, I was always doodling and coloring in and getting mom to carve shapes into potatoes so I could make crazy paintings. But when we’d moved in with Jason and his dad, it became much more to me than just a hobby. It was a way to express myself; to work out my frustrations.

  And it was mine.

  I didn’t need a team behind me cheering me on, or an audience chanting my name. In some ways, art was as far away from sport as you could get, and the irony wasn’t lost on me.

  But I didn’t only love it, I was good at it.

  As I stared down at the sketch of Cameron, I couldn’t help but smile. I’d captured his strength and physique to perfection. Without realizing, my fingers began to ghost over his face, covered by his helmet. Waking up in his bed this morning had been a shock, but it hadn’t been as awkward as I’d expected.

  As it should have been.

  In fact, there had been moments when it didn’t feel weird at all.

  “Hailee, can you come down here please?” Mom’s voice cut through my thoughts and I let out a heavy sigh.

  “I’m busy,” I yelled, adding more shading around Cameron’s helmet

  “It’s important.”

  Relenting, I closed the sketch pad and went downstairs. “Yes?” I dragged myself into the kitchen.

  “Attitude, young lady.” Mom gave me a playful smile.

  “Sorry, I was working.” I pulled out a stool and plopped down on it. “The art thing Mr. Jalin and Coach Hasson asked me to do.”

  “Oh yes,” Kent said. “How is that going?”

  “Okay, I guess. It’s not exactly my thing.”

  “It’s football, Hailee, it isn’t the devil’s work.”

  “Kent,” Mom said quietly.

  He shook out his newspaper, offering me an apologetic smile.

  “You wanted something?” I tried to change the subject, not wanting to get into all the reasons I loathed football.

  “Me and Kent have been talking, and since you came to the game with us and Coach Hasson’s dinner afterward,”—she grabbed a white envelope off the table—“Kent pulled a few strings and well, happy early birthday, baby.”

  I plucked the envelope from her, excitement dancing in my stomach as I tore into it and pulled out the contents. “You got me the tickets,” I shrieked.

  “We did.”

  “Thank you,” I beamed, leaping down off the stool and throwing my arms around her. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.” Mom hugged me back, laughing softly. “But—”

  “No buts, Mom.” Untangling myself from her, I pouted. “I’m eighteen.”

  “You’re still seventeen for another two-and-a-half weeks, Hailee. And New York is a three-and-a-half-hour journey which is…” her voice trailed off as she glanced over at Kent.

  “What your mom is trying to say is that we’d feel much better about you going all the way to New York… if Jason goes with you.”

  My stomach dropped. “No.”

  “Hailee, be reasonable,” Mom chided. “We got four tickets for the exhibition. We thought you could take Flick, and Jason could ask Asher or Cameron.”

  “You honestly think they’ll want to hang out at an arts exhibition with me for my birthday?”

  This day couldn’t get any worse. First, Cameron ruined what had been one of the best moments of my life, and now my mom and step-dad wanted me to play happy families with Jason—on my eighteenth birthday no less.

  “I’d rather not go,” I said, folding my arms over my chest.

  “Go where?” Jason breezed into the room and I silently groaned.

  “We got Hailee tickets for an exhibition she wants to see at The Met Museum in New York,” Mom said, and he did a double-take.

  “You’re letting her go to New York? Alone?”

  I bristled, my teeth grinding together.

  “Well, no. Felicity would be going with her, and we hoped…” Mom looked to Kent again and he finally put his newspaper down. “We’d like you and one of the guys to accompany them.”

  “When is it?”

  I don’t know who was more surprised: me, Mom, or Kent. “What?” Jason added as we all stared at him. “I can’t miss a game, but if it’s a bye week, it should be okay.”

  “It’s October nineteenth,” Mom said.

  “It’s a bye.”

  “That settles it then,” she said. “Isn’t that great news, Hailee?”

  “Great,” I grumbled, shooting daggers at Jason. His eyes narrowed, but I found no malice there.

  What the hell was happening right now?

  “I think Asher’s dad has a place we can stay, I’ll ask him.”

  “You want to stay over?” I blurted out. This just got better and better.

  “Well, yeah, unless you planned on sleeping in the car?”

  Kent rose from the table, going to Jason’s side. “That’s a great idea, Son. I’m sure we’d both feel better knowing you were staying somewhere Neil vouched for.” His eyes flicked to my mom’s and she nodded around a smile.

  “Just the one night, though.”

  One night in New York… with my step-brother and his friends.

  Kill me now.

  “And no partying,” she added, her expression tight. Jason nodded, agreeing to her terms, but I saw the glint in his eyes.

  “We should probably get going if we want to catch happy hour at The Royal,” Kent said, checking his watch.

  “The two of you will be okay?” Mom glanced between us dubiously. “There’s money on the counter to order in and I left some snacks out.”

  “I think we’ve got it, Denise.” Jason’s lip twitched earning him a stiff glare from his father. He ushered Mom from the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Why?” I wasted no time asking.

  “Why what?” Jason went to the refrigerator and got a beer for himself.

  “Why did you agree to come to New York?”

  “Do I need a reason?” He unscrewed the bottle, leaned back on the counter, and took a long pull on it.

  “The Met is—”

  “You think I actually plan on going to some stupid art exhibition?”

  “But Mom said—”

  “Let your mom and my dad think whatever they need to think to breathe easier. We can ride together and when we get there, we can do our own thing.”

  Of course, that was his plan.

  Asshole.

  “And here I thought you might actually have a decent bone in your body.”

  He stepped forward, his lip curved in an arrogant smirk. “Just because I’ve had to tolerate you over this shit with Thatcher doesn’t mean we’re friends. That’s never going to happen, Hailee.”

  “Fuck you, Jason,” I ground out, feeling my jaw tense.

  His eyes sparked with something, but I didn’t stick around to find out what because I was over his shit.

  So over it.

  When Sunday morning rolled around, my mood wasn’t much better. Thanks to Mom and Kent, I was stuck with tickets to an exhibition I desperately wanted to see. But now they came hand-in-hand with Jason. God, he’d looked so smug last night when he revealed his grand plan. He had basically hijacked my birthday so he and his friends could go live it up in New York for the night because while Mom had gotten four tickets, I was under no illusion there wouldn’t be five of us making the journey.
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  I was toweling off my hair, when a notification pinged on my cell phone. I ignored it since it was probably Flick. But when it pinged again… and again, I finally reached over the desk and grabbed it. Unlocking the screen, I frowned when I saw the number of texts I had from my best friend. Opening the most recent, I felt the blood drain from my face.

  * * *

  Flick: Call me. Now!

  * * *

  My stomach sank, but before I could reply, Flick’s name flashed up on the screen, her ringtone cutting through the silence. “What the hell?” I murmured as I hit receive.

  “Hails?” she sounded a little breathless.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m outside.”

  “Outside?” I went to the window and sure enough, pulled up alongside the sidewalk was her yellow Beetle. “Why are you outside my house?” My voice trembled as my subconscious slowly began to wake up, alarm bells sounding in the back of my mind.

  “Just grab your stuff and come on. Oh,” she added. “And promise me you won’t look at Snapchat.”

  “I don’t have Snapchat, you know that.”

  “Good, that’s good,” she said, sounding distracted, as I shoved my feet into some ballet flats.

  “I’ll be right down.” My heart crashed violently in my chest.

  “Okay.” Flick breathed a sigh of relief. “And Hails?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I love you and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” The line went dead, and I stared down at my cell phone, my fingers shaking. Before I knew what I was doing, I’d opened up the App Store and found the Snapchat icon. Promise me you won’t look, she’d said. Letting out a frustrated groan, I shoved my cell phone in my pocket and grabbed my purse.

  Whatever it was, it couldn’t be any worse than Thatcher’s last photoshop prank.

  Could it?

  But as I left the house and saw Flick’s grim expression, I knew I was wrong.

  I just didn’t anticipate how wrong.

  Chapter Thirty

  Cameron

  Xander crawled over my legs, running his little car up and down, making all the noises to go with it. “Hang on, buddy,” I said, feeling my pocket vibrate. I managed to retrieve my cell phone without interrupting his game.

  * * *

  Asher: You need to see this.

  * * *

  It was a nondescript weblink. I hit open and my world fell away.

  “Ameron?” My brother’s voice startled me.

  “Hmm, sorry, buddy, I need to…” I swallowed over the huge fucking lump in my throat, moving him off my legs so I could stand. “I’ll be back, okay?”

  “Kay, o,” he said. He’d learned a new word thanks to Asher, but since Xan couldn’t say his b’s or r’s very well yet, ‘bro’ became ‘o’.

  I walked to the far end of the den and called Asher. “What the fuck am I looking at?” I hissed down the receiver as quietly as I could manage.

  “I’m not entirely sure. Thatcher posted the link on his Snapchat story. It looked shady, so I checked it out.”

  “It’s... her,” I almost choked on the words. “It’s Hailee.”

  “Fuck,” Asher said. “I mean yeah, I thought... but, fuck.”

  “Has Jase seen this yet?”

  “I don’t know; he’s on his way over here.”

  “Keep him there. I mean it, Ash, don’t let him leave.”

  “Come on, man, you know he’s going lose his shit when he sees this, if he hasn’t already.”

  My notifications started blowing up, the persistent bleeping making it difficult to concentrate.

  “Shit, it’s everywhere,” Asher let out a long breath. “My notifications are going off like crazy.”

  “Mine too,” I said quietly, glancing over at Xander who was still playing with his toys. “I have to go.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but Hailee...”

  “Shit, she’s going to freak when she sees this, if she hasn’t already.”

  Which is exactly why I needed to get to her. “I’ll call you later. Just make sure Jase stays put at yours, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

  “Hey, buddy.” I went to Xander and scooped him up. “Let’s go find Mom and Dad, shall we?” She’d spent the day at the hospital yesterday for monitoring, but they’d released her in the end, and this morning she’d seemed brighter.

  “I’m Aze the Monster Achine.” He looped his car through the air as I carried him down the hall to the kitchen, where Mom and Dad were seated at the breakfast counter looking over some papers.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Everything’s fine.” Mom gave me a warm smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes as she pushed the papers to my dad and held out her arms for Xander. “And how is my favorite little man?”

  “Mama, I’m Aze,” he shrieked with delight.

  “Sure you are, baby.” She ruffled his hair, pressing her face closer to him.

  “I need to go out, are you going to be okay—”

  “We’re fine, Son.” Dad had collected the papers into one pile now. “You do whatever you need to do. We’re going to take this little monster out for ice cream and then to the park, but we’d like to sit down later to talk to you about some things, okay?”

  My stomach dipped. “What things?” I looked between them, trying to read between the lines. But when Mom dropped her gaze, shielding herself behind my brother, I knew. And the pit in my stomach split wide open.

  “I can stay,” I said. “If it’s important, I can—”

  “Go,” Dad rose and came to me, squeezing my shoulder. “It can wait until later. Tell the guys I said congrats on the win Friday night.”

  “I, hmm... yeah, okay.” My eyes flicked over to Mom and Xander again, and she gave me a weak smile. Something was wrong, something they needed to sit down and tell me about. I felt winded. I’d been waiting weeks to know and now the day they decided I was ready to know the truth, I needed to get to Hailee.

  Fuck.

  “It’ll be okay,” Dad added when I didn’t move. “Everything will be okay, Son.”

  But I didn’t believe him anymore.

  Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up outside Felicity’s house and cut the engine. I had been about to text her to find out where Hailee was, when she’d beaten me to it. Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly sent a text to Asher letting him know I was with Hailee. His reply came straight back.

  * * *

  Ash: Jase is here but he’s ready to kill something. I might need reinforcements

  * * *

  A crazy idea popped into my head, but something told me she’d do it. Felicity would do anything for her best friend.

  * * *

  Me: I’m sending Felicity

  * * *

  Ash: Have you lost your fucking mind? He can’t stand her!

  * * *

  Me: Just let her in when she gets there

  * * *

  Ash: I hope you know what you’re doing…

  * * *

  I wasn’t sure I knew anything anymore. So, ignoring his text, I inhaled a deep breath and climbed out of my truck, making my way up to Felicity’s house. The door swung open and Felicity glowered at me. “She’s upstairs.” Her voice was flat as she stepped aside to let me past. “She won’t talk to me about it. And I know it’s not my fault, but I can’t help thinking if I’d done more at the party then...” Sobs muffled her words as she buried her face in her hands.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling as awkward as fuck. “It’s not your fault.”

  Felicity peered up at me. “You’re right. This is all your fault.” Her lips flattened into a grim line. “Well, Jason’s fault. But that makes you guilty by association.”

  “Felicity, come on—”

  “No, you come on, Cameron. Someone drugged her, stripped her naked, and filmed her...” She swallowed, a fresh wave of tears tracking down her face. “It’s gone too far. I told her
to stop. I told her to quit this thing with Jason. I told her...”

  But it wouldn’t have mattered. Thatcher wanted payback. He wanted to humiliate and hurt Jason the way he’d done to him.

  And Hailee was the perfect target.

  “I need you to do something for me,” I said.

  “Me?” Her voice shook, her green eyes wide with disbelief.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to go over to Asher’s house and help him talk Jase down from doing something stupid.”

  The blood drained from her face. “You want me to what?” She clutched her throat.

  “I know he can be... difficult.” Felicity scoffed at that. “But the last thing we need right now is Jase going across the river and doing something that’ll only make everything ten times worse.” Not to mention jeopardize his whole future.

  “Cameron, I don’t know—”

  “Please. There isn’t anyone else to ask.” And there was something about her. The way she’d taken control that morning in Asher’s kitchen, making us all breakfast as if we actually deserved her kindness.

  “Fine. Fine. But you owe me. And you’d better find a way to fix this because my best friend is up there, and she’s broken. Broken, Cameron. And I hate it. I hate seeing her like that.”

  I dragged a hand down my face, blood pounding between my ears. Felicity was right, of course she was right. Jason, Asher, even me, we’d all had a hand in dragging Hailee into this shit.

  Felicity was busy pulling on her shoes when she said, “My room is the last one on the left. I’ll text you when we’ve contained Jason. And don’t worry about my parents, they’re out of town for the night.”

  I smiled at that. “Thanks.”

  “And there’s a box of brownies on the counter in the kitchen.” She pointed down the hall. “They’re her favorites.”

 

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