Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1)

by Rachel Leigh

  Taking my hair into a balled-up bunch in his hand, he forces my head down. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

  Knowing that it will piss him off and, in return, give me exactly what I want, I push him further. “Or maybe Tommy.”

  His hard cock plunges into me so forcefully that the bone of my hip can be heard grinding against the countertop. Taking both legs straight out, Talon stands in the center and begins thrusting his cock inside of me. I grip the other side of the center island to brace myself from sliding back and forth.

  “You want Zed and Tommy’s cock inside of you?” he grumbles as he drives himself so deep inside of me that I can feel him in my belly. “Answer me, you little whore.”

  Normally that would piss me off, but not this time. This time I play along. “Maybe I’ll let them when I’m through with you.”

  One leg drops down, and his fingers wrap repeatedly around my hair until he gets a tight enough grip. When he jerks my head up, he presses so far inside of me that, for a moment, I feel an inkling of pain. Beautiful, intense pain. “I’d kill every single one of you.”

  Dropping my head back down, his hand finds my shoulder, and he uses it as footing. His pace begins to slow, but the depth of his reach doesn’t cease. I can feel his head swell inside of me as his cock gains a pulse. Taking me along for the ride, I lose complete control as I cry out in pleasure. One final thrust and then he pulls out and I can feel the warm liquid shoot all over my ass. Running down my leg, to my feet, and then dropping to the floor.

  “Clean your ass up. No pun intended.” He jerks up his pants. “We have a phone to fetch and then you need to tell me exactly where you were the last two hours.” Without even giving me a second look, he turns away.

  I’m still bent over the kitchen island when he walks out. I have no idea where he’s going, and I don’t even care.

  My words had an effect on him that I didn’t predict. He doesn’t wanna share me with the guys. I just got exactly what I wanted. I now have ammo.

  12

  It’s obvious this family has a thing for the color white. White walls, white furniture, fake white flowers in vases. Picking up a picture frame, white of course, I see a child with a smile on her face. One that probably carried so many dreams in that little mind of hers. Her hair is just as black and sleek and her eyes are the only color in the image. Then there’s her brother, who was just beginning his years of being a douchebag at the age of eleven or twelve.

  Something about Axel unnerves me. It’s not because he got the girl I pined for, for a few months. No, it goes much deeper than that. Back to when I was a sophomore playing football on the varsity team. It was parents’ night and, naturally, mine were a no show. He bought his mom flowers and she returned the gesture with a kiss to his cheek. There’s nothing like the relationship between mother and son, or so they say. I stood on that field alone with my head held high. Not allowing anyone to see that my insides were in the process of being gutted.

  When we walked off the field and the happy family parted, the asshole turned his head with a crooked grin, leaned close and whispered, “Pretty pathetic when your own family can’t even stand to be near you.”

  I overdosed that night. Had to leave Blakely behind to endure the wrath of our monstrous father. Then I spent three months in rehab and the rest of the year living with an aunt and uncle who I’m pretty sure grew to hate me just as much as the rest of the world. I’m unlovable—what can I say.

  A loud banging on the door has me dropping the picture. I rush over to it, as the thudding increases in intensity. Peeking out the peephole, I turn the handle and open it for the familiar angered face. “Where is she?” He plants two hands on my chest and pushes me out of his way.

  “I never invited you in. Shouldn’t you be catching fire or something?” He completely ignores my bad joke and begins heading down the hall. When I go to shut the door, resistance has it coming back toward me. Tommy looks concerned; Lars looks bored. Waving my hand through the air, I let them in.

  “You were supposed to call us when you found her,” Tommy says. Being the most respectful of this disrespectful crew, he kicks his shoes off.

  “Oh yeah, let me just pull my invisible fucking phone out of my pocket.” I growl.

  “You still haven’t found that thing?” Lars asks.

  “No!”

  My eyes sweep down the hall as I bend and twist to try and see where Zed went. Two seconds later, Marni comes down the hall with her phone gripped tightly in her hand. Her eyes land on mine, and we exchange what I hope to be a silent agreement that what we just did stays between us. The last thing I need is these guys harping on me because I’m breaking our number one rule—don’t touch the girl. I doubt these two would give a flying fuck, but Zed’s head might literally explode.

  “Hey, guys,” Marni says, with an immediate sarcasm in her tone. “While I’m so happy that you all wanted to come and hang out in my home, I prefer that you don’t.” Her arms cross over her chest and her cleavage peaks out the top of her white V-neck.

  I look to the guys and, sure as shit, they’re gawking. Smacking my hand to the bottom of Lar’s jaw, his eyes shoot up. “What the hell!” He slaps at my arm that’s already back at my side.

  “They’re not on display for you,” I grumble. I’m starting to think this girl eats up all this attention. Of course she does. Why else would she be on the WatchMeNow app? Sure as hell isn't for the money. I walk around her to go find Zed, but stop and whisper in her ear, “Go put on a sweatshirt and while you’re up there, delete the last two hours on your security system.”

  Marni’s fingers grab a hold of my arm, stopping my movements. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To see what the hell Zed is doing roaming around your house.” I shake her hand off, but her expression leaves my feet planted.

  Blinking a few times, her jaw clenches. “Zed’s here?” With a loud groan, her feet begin moving. “Zed!” she shouts, “you better not be in my fucking room.”

  I follow after her. “Highly doubt he’s in your room. I’d guess some place like your dad's office.” I step in front of her and walk up the stairs, skipping every other step. I pull the location of his office from memory of the last time I was in there and as guessed, the door is wide open. “What the hell are you doing?” I snarl at him, as he sits comfortably in Anderson Thorn’s chair.

  “I don’t understand what the buzz about this guy is. He doesn’t even have a gun in his drawer. What kind of big top cartel leader doesn’t have a fucking gun?” He speaks calmly, as he rocks back and forth with his arms resting on the arms of the chair.

  Marni comes storming in the room. “Are you trying to get us all killed?” She points at the door. “Get out of here.”

  “Calm down, Little Thorn. It’s highly unlikely that your dad would murder his only daughter.”

  Heavy steps bring her to his side where she begins pulling on his arm to try and get him up. All the while, I find it comical. She is a feisty thing when she wants to be. “Get up! If my dad notices the cameras are off this long, he will send security in here. If he finds out that you all are lurking around like a bunch of nosey little shits, we’ll all be in trouble.” When Zed doesn’t budge, she directs her attention to me. “And you. Don’t think I didn’t see that you were in my house long before I even got here.”

  “You have my fucking phone. I’ll search every inch of this place if I have to.”

  Her hands flap in the air like a flock of angry birds. “I’d just gotten here. How would I have hidden your phone in this house?” She looks so fucking sexy when she’s angry.

  Zed rolls the chair back and stands up. “I hate to break up this cute little fight, but I’ve got important shit to do.” I watch as he pushes down a folded paper in his front pocket, but I don’t think Marni noticed. When he catches my glance, he gives me a subtle nod.

  I have no clue what it is or what he might want from Anderson Thorn, aside from some blackmail m
aterial or a possible link to his own father, and I really don’t care.

  “Come on,” I throw an arm around Marni’s shoulder, “we gotta get home. Our student has to do homework before bedtime.”

  “Ugh, get away from me. And quit treating me like a child. I’m the exact same age as you are. Just because you’re a high school dropout, doesn’t give you authority, and it certainly doesn’t make you wiser. In fact, you’re the exact opposite.”

  I’ll let her have those words for now. She can view me as just a high school drop out if she wants. The truth is, I’ve just about completed my senior year early. After rehab, I did round the clock virtual schooling to catch up. Somehow, I ended up ahead. I guess when you’re knee deep in the muck of depression, and you don’t wanna go anywhere or see anyone, you strive for more.

  The problem now? I have nothing left to strive for, except for my revenge.

  As soon as we step out in the hallway and Marni closes the door behind us, a more chipper side of Zed emerges. “Who’s up for a party? It’s Thursday. I’m thirsty.” His tone is cheerful and everything that Zed is not. Whatever paper he just pocketed must have been something useful to him.

  Marni gets all too excited. “A party sounds fun.”

  Lucky for me, I get to be the bearer of bad news. “Can’t. She has school tomorrow.”

  “Fucking A. Really?” Zed sighs.

  “Yes, really. She needs sleep and there is no way in hell that she can sleep with a party going on downstairs.”

  “I’m eighteen years old. If I wanna stay up late and go to school tired and hungover then I will.”

  My jaw ticks as I think. This could work in my favor. Give her a few drinks. Soften her up. Get my damn phone back. There is so much shit in there that could destroy me if it fell in the wrong hands. And that’s not even what has me worried. It’s the video. All she has to do is open that up and bam, I’ll lose all leverage, and she’d hate me more than she already does.

  Tommy and Lars are raiding the cupboards when we walk downstairs. “Where are the bowls at?” Lars pulls open the freezer and grabs a tub of chocolate ice cream.

  Marni stretches on her tiptoes and reaches into the cupboard behind him. Her shirt rides up and the ruby red string of her thong sticks out from the back. This girl is going to fucking kill me. An overdose couldn’t do the job, but she will fucking kill me if she doesn’t stop showing her body like this.

  Marni’s eyes shoot out at me when Lars grabs the ice cream scooper on the counter. “No!” she grabs it from his hand, “you don’t wanna use that.”

  “Oh come on.” I smirk, as I take it from her hands and dig it into the ice cream. “The boy wants a taste of this sweet stuff.” I drop a scoop into Lars’ bowl then hand it to him. “Enjoy.”

  Shaking her head at me with disapproval, I literally fight myself not to mirror the smile that creeps on her face. When her eyes soften and I look at them deeper, it’s impossible not to feel something. This moment is ours. These secrets are ours. And her smile is mine.

  When the guys leave, Marni insists on cleaning up any remnants of our being here. She seems to think that her dad would lose his shit. What she doesn’t know is that none of us fear the old man.

  Marni is tossing all the dirty dishes in the sink from the guys’ ice cream social when she holds up the scooper. “Maybe I should just throw this thing away.” She fights back a smile.

  “Oh no you don’t.” I grab it and drop it into the sink. “We might need it again.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. And definitely don’t be embarrassed. It was hot as fuck.” I push my hair back over my dampened hairline. I’m still sweating from the explosion.

  “I’m not embarrassed. I’m just not proud that it was with you.”

  “Oooh, burn.” I make a sizzle sound with my tongue. “Why’s that? Because I’m so repulsive?” I know that girls like Marni don’t typically fall for guys like me. She’s the former head cheerleader. The girl that all the other girls hate and the one all the guys want to fuck. She’s also extremely fucking sad and a bit rough around the edges. She’s too damn good for me. I might have money and power but I’m the reason that dads with daughters have loaded guns at their doors.

  “Repulsive? No. You’re not repulsive at all, Talon. You’re just…” she searches for the word and I find myself hanging on it, “…daunting.”

  “Daunting?” I laugh. “As in, scary?”

  Grabbing a rag she begins wiping up the slop of melted ice cream on the counter. “Why is that so funny? Should I remind you of everything you’ve done and said to me?”

  “And should I remind you, that I knew you before all of this started?”

  “Maybe this was all part of some elaborate scheme. Maybe Josh wasn’t the obsessed psycho.” She presses her hand on the counter and turns toward me. “Maybe you’re the one I should have feared all along.”

  If only that weren’t true, this would be a hell of a lot easier. Unfortunately, it is. I take a step toward her and watch as her breaths skip when I tangle my fingers in the back of her hair. “You’re smart to fear me, but you’d be a fool to deny me.” I pull her mouth to mine and allow our lips to melt together without movement. Stagnant like a still pond. Captivating, yet unmotivated. There is no manipulation behind this kiss. It’s just for the plain and simple fact that I wanted to do it—if only just to feel her. Or to let her feel me and see that while I might be a monster, I also tremble when we touch.

  13

  “Listen,” I whisper, “there is no way that I can hold on to this phone any longer. We need to do this tonight.” I look up and down Talon’s driveway, behind me and in front of me, making sure that no one is around.

  “I can’t do it,” Wyatt says. I hate this all so much. Dragging him into this mess. Asking him to do this. But, I don’t have a choice.

  “Wyatt, Please. I’m begging you.” I turn on my sweet voice. The one that always gets me what I want. The one I used on Dad when I told him that I wanted to stay in L.A. It’s not the same one I used when I told him I was staying with Shay. That one was demanding and, somehow, it still worked.

  “How do you plan on getting away from them this time? They’re not stupid, they’ll never let you leave.”

  “I have a plan,” I whisper into the phone. “Please, Wyatt,” I repeat, “I’m begging you.”

  Another beat of silence.

  “Fine.”

  Adrenaline rushes through me. “Really? Oh my gosh, thank you, Wyatt.” I jump up, and I know he can hear my smile through the phone. “I knew I could count on you. Ok. The party is at seven. I’ll need until at least nine o’clock to get Talon off my back. Pick me up at the end of the driveway at nine-fifteen. If I’m running late, don’t call. I’ll be there.”

  “If I die because of this, my blood is on your hands.”

  The line goes dead. I know he’s not pleased with the situation and what I’m asking him to do. But, it’ll be fine. We’ll get the info, and I’ll put the phone back like nothing ever happened. Talon may know I have it, but I’ll never admit it.

  Talon’s truck comes down the driveway, and I can immediately tell that he’s pissed. I may have driven a little too fast and took a different route to get here before him. When his eyes widen, and he tilts his head backward, my jaw drops open and any sense of elation or calm that I did have is quickly diminished when I see the red and blue lights on the top of the car directly behind him. My first instinct is to run, but that’s obviously not an option.

  When Talon’s truck stops right next to my car, he climbs out and slams the door shut, which is followed by the shutting of the officer’s car door. “Is there a problem?” Talon asks when he comes into view.

  There’s a beep, then a voice on the other end of the receiver the officer is wearing. “I’m here now,” he says, while holding down a button. When he releases it, he looks to Talon. “Talon Porter?”

  I try to remain calm, e
ven though my heart is galloping inside of me and I’m pretty sure all the color has drained from my face.

  “That’s me,” Talon says, calm and collectively. How does he remain so composed? If that officer does so much as look at me with suspicion, I’ll probably pass out.

  “I’m Officer Klein, and I just have a few questions.” He moves his attention to me. “And you are?”

  Oh shit.

  “Marni,” I manage to choke out with wobbling legs and dazed confusion. “Marni Thorn.”

  “Ah, Anderson’s little girl. How have you been, hon?” he asks with a smile.

  My nerves calm a tad. “I’ve been good. Thank you.” I have no idea who this man is, but I’m not surprised he knows my dad.

  “I’m sure you’ve both heard that a student from Redwood High has gone missing. Josh Moran, does the name sound familiar?” he asks, as his eyes dart back and forth from me to Talon.

  I just nod. It’s all I can do. I can’t speak out of fear of saying too much or not enough.

  “Yeah, I heard about that. Did ya find him yet?” Talon asks, as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  “Not yet, but we’re working hard to track down his whereabouts.” He pulls out a small notepad and pen, giving the pen a click, he presses it to the paper. “This is your home, correct?” He poses the question to Talon.

  “Yes, Sir,” Talon responds, respectfully.

  “And Zed King lives here with you?”

  Taken aback, Talon’s tone shifts. “Zed stays here. Why do you ask?”

  The officer begins writing something down and then lifts his head. “We spoke with his father, Martin King, and he mentioned that Zed hasn’t been home in months and that we might find him here.”

  Confused, I speak up. “What does Zed have to do with Josh’s disappearance?” Talon shoots me a look that pretty much says shut up.