Her Challengers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 1)

by Taylor Blaine

  Why did my worth have to be related to my sex?

  Before Dad could harp on me more about trying out for the team, I brought up my own question that was burning in my brain since I’d seen my aunt in the hallway. “Why didn’t you tell me Danielle worked here? Of course, you knew.” He would try to lie about it, claim he didn’t know. I cut him off at the pass.

  He clamped his lips shut, the pale skin around his lips testifying to the tightness he held his mouth closed. His knuckles turned the same pale color and he stared straight ahead.

  I wouldn’t get an answer out of him. At the same time, I wouldn’t have any more problems about trying out that afternoon.

  We pulled into the driveway of our rental and I climbed out of the truck, still upset and not sure if it was justified or not. We walked inside the chilly house and Dad slid my phone across the kitchen counter. We didn’t talk and I didn’t want to waste time sitting there hashing anything out. I wasn’t backing off the team and he wasn’t going to tell me about Danielle.

  I ran to my room, tossing my backpack on the twin-sized bed and slumping to the chair. Plugging my phone in the charger, I leaned to the side and rested on my elbows as I swiped through the screens on the phone.

  No missed text messages. No missed calls. All day and no one had checked in with me? That didn’t make sense. I pulled up Blaze’s number and texted him.

  Hey, Blaze, how was school?

  What else did I say? I wasn’t sure. Suddenly, I felt all kinds of insecurities about Blaze, me, and the move. His promises might not stick, if I wasn’t around to remind him why he wanted to be with me.

  And Sara. She hadn’t messaged me either. Maybe they were busy in school still or something. Boxing practice would be over for Blaze by that time and Sara didn’t do after-school activities that time of year. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I had to hope that they would get ahold of me soon.

  Whatever my dad was hiding would come out. I fell asleep waiting for a text back from Blaze or something from Sara.

  Anything that would make me feel like myself again.

  ***

  Stryker

  We dumped our bags on the counter of the spacious kitchen in our grandmother’s home. I guess it was actually our uncle’s place now since Nana died last year. Whatever. I didn’t care. I couldn’t focus on the crap in my life when worse problems had cropped up.

  Bracing my arms on the counter, I hung my head forward. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply. I’d almost been kicked out of Jameson High. There was no where I could go. I had to stay at the high school founded by my family. It didn’t make sense for me to go anywhere else. Plus, I’d been threatened with military school by our uncle, Dominick, if anything happened to my position in the community.

  With what happened to our dads, military wasn’t an option. Not yet, anyway.

  I would have been kicked out, too. One thing I refused to do was explain my actions. I hadn’t told Mrs. Perkins what was happening because it was none of her business. She left Jasmine to run unchecked through the school, so I stepped up and took care of the mess with my cousins. The fact that I got called out on the issues, only left me bitter and more enraged which silenced me further.

  Gray had stepped in. She’d lied, true, but she didn’t do it to throw me under the bus. She hadn’t even thrown Jasmine into the spotlight and made her accountable for what she’d done. All Gray did was take the blame off me and my cousins. She kept me at the school.

  Which meant I owed her.

  As if reading my mind, Brock turned and leaned his butt against the edge of the counter. “You don’t owe her anything, man. She did the right thing. No one gets compensated for that.” He shook his head, his expression dark. Not one of us believed in justice or fair. We knew what you got when you stood up for the underdog. We knew more than anyone else the loss you suffered when you did what was right.

  I sighed, standing up straight and turning to mimic his stance. The edge of the granite counter cut into my lower back and I welcomed the pinch. I glanced to the side when Gunner matched us, leaning against the counter opposite us by the stove in my grandmother’s home. Even though our uncle inherited the place along with us, it was still our Nana’s house.

  “You guys realize we can’t let her settle in, right? She can’t fight with us. She can’t gain a foothold at Jameson.” I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but we chanced losing the balance we’d established when we started attending Jameson.

  “That’s going to be hard to do. You heard Seth when she left. I don’t want to explain to the rest of the team why we’re blocking out someone who wasn’t even breathing hard during a spar.” Gunner hated being seen as serious or logical, but sometimes we needed his level-headed responses.

  “I know. But if we let her on the team, the rest of the school will see her as one of us.” We couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “So, what do we do? She stepped up and took the focus off you, Stryker. Is it right that we’re digging in against her?” Brock quirked his eyebrows as he studied me, his arms folded. His attraction to Gray was noticeable.

  The fact that he wanted her only irritated me more than the situation warranted. I didn’t want to fight my own cousin, my brother for all intents and purposes. But I would.

  Because as much as he might have a thing for her, he didn’t have a tie to her like I did. I could feel the connection tugging at my insides. I couldn’t be weak for anyone. Lust was as far as I could go and even I wasn’t willing to taste Gray like that.

  If I did, I had a feeling I’d never be able to quit her.

  “Spread the word. The new girl isn’t welcome at Jameson.” I held up my hand as I pushed off the counter. My muscles were tight and I still had another two hours of lifting ahead of me. “I don’t care if she deserves it or not. Things aren’t safe bringing a girl onto the team and they certainly aren’t safe having Gray Asher comfortable here. We need to get rid of her and now.”

  They didn’t argue, my boys who always had my back. We couldn’t bring attention to the team or to the school. Not the kind that she would bring with her. We needed control and we needed to keep the reputation of the school and ourselves as clean as we could.

  If something happened to our records, we’d never be able to follow in our fathers’ footsteps. If something messed with our plans in our town, more than just three lives would be ruined.

  And that wasn’t acceptable. Not now. Not ever.

  Chapter 7

  Gray

  Was it wrong that I let my guard slip a little bit? I didn’t expect a change overnight, but I thought for sure that fixing things with the VP the night before would help me get some… I don’t know, courtesy in the hallways of Jameson.

  Instead, when I walked in the building early Friday morning, I could have sworn I walked into hell – with a capital H.

  We got to the building late because Dad slept in. One more slip up in a long line of slip ups. I wasn’t in any rush to get to school, so I let him, staring at my phone and wondering why I hadn’t heard from Sara or Blaze yet.

  Maybe my phone wasn’t working. I couldn’t figure it out. My emotional exhaustion had derailed my plans to look up Stryker and his cousins on social media. Maybe I’d check on them over the weekend. Maybe not.

  By the time my dad got us to the building, the final bell had already rung which only pissed me off. I had Ellison first thing and I might have gotten a pass the day before, but I doubted that would be a recurring event.

  I hiked my bag onto my shoulder and darted across the lot toward the front doors. I wasn’t even going to stop at my locker. There was no point. I had to get into class or just not show up at all.

  Surprisingly, when I burst through the doors quite a few people hung out in the halls. Not like five or ten, but more like tens and tens. Multiple groups lounged here and there like a free period had been declared. I knew that wasn’t the case, so I looked around for the reason.
<
br />   Truth is… I was the reason.

  The group of guys nearest me, wearing basketball jerseys under their letterman jackets, straightened, turning their gazes my way. Their eyes narrowed as they turned from laughing and engaged to cold and unwelcoming in a matter of seconds.

  One of the guys who must have been the leader, jerked his chin at me and then turned and whispered to his friend, careful to keep his eyes on me. I paused just inside the doors, taking the measure of the group before turning to look at the next group.

  They all shifted into some kind of pissed off mob. What had happened in the twelve hours since I’d last been at that school? A tingle of fear jumpstarted my anger and I took a deep breath, clenching my fists at my sides. Was this the limbo Chris had warned me about? Where was he? We were supposed to be friends or something.

  If that wasn’t going to happen, then I needed someone to step up and start something with me so I could regain a foothold.

  Please, start something. Please… not that any of them would be so blatant, but one – no, I – could hope.

  I turned down the hall that led to Ellison’s class, brushing past a group of football players, easy to identify with their overly broad shoulders and thick necks.

  “Hey, you trying to start something, Timbercreek?” One of the guys in the group called me out. He was big with tight facial expressions that declared I was dirt and he was lord of everything.

  My favorite kind of bully.

  I stopped my headlong flight to my class, grateful to have a direction to turn my anger, worry, and frustration. This idiot, whose letterman jacket identified him as Johnson, had no idea that I was on the edge of losing my control.

  I still hadn’t heard from Sara or Blaze. There was no good reason why they had gone radio silent. I’d been at Timbercreek just that last Tuesday. Almost no time had passed since I’d seen them last and yet it felt like years.

  Taking a deep breath, I spun back on the ball of my foot. My Converse – blue today – didn’t squeak on the linoleum like I wished it would. I curved my lips in a tight smile and walked the few feet back to the group. I eyed each of them in turn without blinking. I wasn’t going to be intimidated. Not by idiots who thought that bashing their bodies into each other over a ball was a sport.

  His last name was embroidered in a cursive script on the breast of his letter jacket. “What do you need, Johnson? You must need something since you made the effort to call me back.” I ignored the presence of the other groups crowding around. Their hostility came off them in waves and I had no doubt that I was their target. The why was the confusing part, yet I refused to ask for clarification.

  “The only thing I need, Timbercreek, is something I hear you can’t give up.” He curved his lips in a side smirk. He glanced around at the people around us and raised his voice so all could hear. “She’s frigid. A prude. Won’t give it up to anyone, even her longtime boyfriend.” He lowered his voice and stepped close, reaching his hand out and wrapping his fingers around the top part of my left bicep. “Isn’t that right, Timbercreek? You’re the ice queen, teasing to get what you want, then blue balling the poor schmuck.”

  I would have rather been called a whore. To be known as a prude put a target on your back for all the players to come out in droves. Not to mention the fact that now I would be stupid to attend any parties or any other gatherings because the rapists would watch for an opening. They all would want to conquer someone they believed to be a virgin or chaste. No matter what that meant to the female they targeted.

  Johnson squeezed my arm in his cruelly strong fingers. I refused to react. I stared up into his eyes, determined to keep my expression full of disgust and lazy insolence. “You trying to make me hot for you, Johnson? Here? In the hallway? Trust me, this isn’t how you turn anyone on.” I laughed. “But I think you know that. Trying to hide your performance issues by turning people off?”

  His face darkened and his fingers squeezed tighter as he lifted his other hand to tighten around my other arm and then shake me.

  I clenched my teeth before they rattled around and took away my ability to think straight. I’d pushed him and now I had to stick up for myself. I held my breath and jerked myself forward, bashing my forehead into his nose and stomping onto the top of his sneakered foot. I earned my release and stumbled back a few feet.

  My head rang after the headbutt. I blinked hard, staring at the scene in front of me and trying to focus through the pain in my head. Johnson held his nose, blood coming from between his fingers. I forgot what a headbutt cost physically. Thankfully, it was illegal in both competition fighting and in the illegal fights I tossed around in some weekends.

  Johnson’s rage spilled out of him in a yell and he lunged toward me, dropping his hand and revealing the bright red of his blood streaking across his upper lip and down the side of his mouth.

  Stryker stepped in front of me, blocking Johnson as he searched my face for half a second before turning back to Johnson, holding his hand waist level and giving a slight shake of his head. Dressed in a black t-shirt, Stryker’s muscles flexed and moved in a hypnotic way. A glimpse of black ink peeking from under the collar of his shirt whet my curiosity and I bit down on my lower lip.

  He’d heard Johnson’s comments. He thought I was frigid, too. That kind of stigma wasn’t one you could escape in high school. For some reason, Stryker, Gunner, or Brock thinking that about me bugged me more than the rest of the school thinking it. I didn’t care what most people thought, but for some reason, I didn’t want the trio with that mindset about me.

  That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

  “I was only doing what you told me to do.” Johnson’s whisper reached me and I inhaled sharply.

  What Stryker had told him to do? Why would he tell anyone to do anything like that to me? I’d stepped in. I’d helped him. Why would he set me up like that?

  I swayed on my feet. The expectations and disappointments crashing around me and combining with the dizzying effects of the headbutt left me reeling. I might have tipped to the side. Gunner stepped up beside me, letting me lean on him until I gathered myself together and shook my head.

  Pushing away from Gunner’s arm while snapping my gaze to his face, I swallowed. I folded my arms across my chest and narrowed my eyes. He tilted his head my way but stepped back into the perimeter of the group as if he stood with them and not with me.

  And why should he stand with me? I didn’t blame him. I didn’t blame any of them. That didn’t mean I had to like them.

  In fact, I couldn’t help the hatred bursting through me as I stared at the back of Stryker’s neck.

  Stryker didn’t bother whispering as if he didn’t care if I heard or not. “I didn’t tell you to touch her. Hands off, Johnson.” He swept his gaze around the group of students staring at him as if he were some kind of god. “I don’t care what you do to her or what you say. You don’t touch her. If you do, you’ll deal with me.” He flexed the muscles in his arms and his shirt pulled tight across his back.

  “Hey!” I jumped forward, shoving on his brick-like back. I wasn’t small. I wasn’t thin. I was athletic and solid. I was stronger than most kids in most high schools and still he didn’t move.

  He didn’t budge with my anger, but he turned around as if a fly buzzed around him and he wanted to swat it down. Cocking his head to the side, he curved his lips with an icy acknowledgement I’d rather not face. “What’s the problem, Timbercreek?” His tone and expression so different than the curious wonder he’d had on his face the night before.

  Every fiber of my body revolted against the patronizing way he spoke to me. The way the entire collection of students in that hallway felt like they had the right to stand there and watch me lose to a man like Stryker or a group of bullies like Johnson and his crew.

  “I don’t need you to stick up for me. I can handle this. I don’t need anything from you. Unless, of course, you’re protecting Johnson and his little…” I held up my pinky finger a
nd glanced at it. “Well, I’m sure the other girls here know about the size of the situation.” I gazed pointedly at Johnson’s crotch. A few girls in the group giggled which was cut off by a sharp glance from Johnson at the group.

  Stryker’s eyes darkened when I looked at Johnson’s body. He didn’t like that, but why? He didn’t care. Right? He’d started this mess. He could deal with the consequences.

  I stepped closer, furrowing my brow as I spoke low. “Why would you tell them to do this? I don’t…” I clamped my mouth shut. I didn’t understand. What was he doing? Why was he treating me like this?

  “You don’t belong here. You’re just a girl that doesn’t know her place. We’re going to help you find it.” His jaw ticked and I hated that my insides responded to the raw magnetism coming off him. I hated that I was drawn to him. I hated that I wanted to understand, that I cared.

  I huffed, shaking my head and blinking back moisture. I wasn’t a crier and I wasn’t weak. My anger was going to overwhelm me and if I didn’t kick someone’s ass in the next two minutes, I would lose my crap and cry all over the place. “Got it. You’re king of the assholes. Don’t worry. It’s loud and clear.” I took in the tight resolute expressions on Gunner and Brock’s faces. They were a part of this. They were in the same tight triangle as Stryker.

  If Stryker issued a command, then it came from the other two as well.

  Not only did Stryker not flinch at my accusations, he turned his back on me in front of the whole school.

  He didn’t want me to fit in. He didn’t want me there. If he thought it was the first time I’d ever been unwanted, he had zero brain cells.

  I turned calmly, controlled. I refused to let them see my worry or my frustration. As far as everyone there was concerned, I didn’t give a damn about anything that was happening. I could very easily be getting my nails done.

  Sauntering off through the throng of people who slightly moved out of the way, I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper as blood burst across my tongue.