Fighting For You (Bragan University Series Book 2)

by Gianna Gabriela

  “He’s on his way,” Kiya says as she joins us on the sidewalk. Kaitlyn has stopped throwing up, but she needs a shower and sleep. I watch as she sits hunched over on the ground, her head resting on her knees. She has no fight left in her. She is ready to go home. And honestly, so am I.

  COLTON

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask out loud as I am woken by my ringing phone. I pry my eyes open and look at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It’s almost 2 a.m. I rub my eyes, lift myself up from the bed and grab my phone. I look at the caller I.D., finding Chase is calling. I know something is wrong because if anyone knows not to wake me up, it’s my best friend.

  “What do you want, Boulder?” I demand. The guys had gone out tonight, but I was exhausted from extra football practices and finishing an assignment, so I decided to stay home.

  “Colton, you need to get your ass here right now!” Chase responds seriously.

  I jump out of bed and start searching for some clothes. “Where are you? What’s going on?” I put on my sweats, and search around for a sweatshirt.

  “It’s Nick,” Chase says. Those words are like a bucket of cold water. I’m alert now. I feel my jaw harden, and I start to wonder what’s happened to my brother. He’s always getting into trouble, and I have to get him out of it. I’m his big brother. I’m the one that looks out for him, but damn, sometimes it gets tiring.

  “Are you waiting for an invitation to continue?” I snap. “What the fuck happened to Nick?”

  “We were at Thompson’s place. Nick had a few too many drinks and started flirting with one of the girls at the party. Her boyfriend showed up and a fight broke out. I tried to break up the fight,” he says in one breath.

  “Where are you now?” I demand. I know he’s got more to tell me, and the fact that he isn’t right now is pissing me off.

  “The police showed up and arrested Nick and the other guy. I’m on my way to the police station.” Fuck. My brother got himself arrested. Again.

  If they call my parents, I’ll never hear the end of it.

  As if sensing my thoughts Chase adds, “I told him not to call your parents. I told him I was going to call you and we’d get him out.”

  I’m out the door by the time he finishes his sentence. I have my keys in hand, all semblance of sleep gone and replaced by rage. I tell Chase I’ll meet him at the station. I get in my car and speed off.

  Ten minutes later, I park my car at the empty station, and run inside. I find Chase sitting in a chair, his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands covering his eyes. There’s dried blood on his knuckles. He’d thrown some punches, but clearly hadn’t been arrested.

  He lifts his head and looks directly at me.

  “Hey, Colton.”

  I walk towards him as he slowly stands from his chair and meets me halfway.

  “You okay?” I direct my eyes to his knuckles. He follows my gaze and nods.

  “Yeah, you should see the other guy,” he says with a smirk.

  “Why wasn’t anyone else arrested?” I ask.

  He looks down at the floor avoiding my eyes. “Because when the police came, the rest of us stopped fighting, but Nick and the boyfriend kept going at it.” I know Chase wishes he’d stopped the fight, but I also know how stubborn my brother is.

  “Okay, let’s get the idiot out of here,” I respond, walking towards the front desk like I have too many times before.

  I talk to the clerk—a middle-aged woman whose eyes never leave my body—and after what feels like half an hour, my brother is let out. They don’t book him, or file any paperwork. They just wanted to hold him, to get him to calm down. This isn’t the first time my brother has ended up here, but his charm, reputation, and skill on the field make even the police feel bad about getting him in trouble.

  Isn’t he lucky?

  I thank the clerk and walk out of the police station with my brother in front of me. He has a busted lip, but all in all, it seems he won the fight. Part of me is angry that he got into a stupid brawl, and I had to run and bail him out. The other part is proud that I taught him how to defend himself.

  We get in the car and I begin driving back home. Nick and Chase are talking, but I am not paying any attention to them. I am exhausted and ready for bed.

  “I could have finished that guy if the cops hadn’t come in and broken us up,” Nick says smugly. “And I would’ve been screwing his girlfriend right now, too.”

  His words snap me out of my stupor and I narrow my eyes at him through the rear-view mirror. He’s just sitting there, relaxed—proud of himself. Why can’t he see how much trouble he’s caused? Why doesn’t he give a fuck?

  “You need to get your shit together,” I say to him, keeping my eyes on the road for a moment before flickering back to his face.

  Nick sits up straight, and the shift in the mood is palpable. “I know,” he responds, but I know this won’t be the last time we’ll be having this conversation.

  “I don’t want to get any more calls about you being in fucking jail because you decided to flirt with some chick at a party.” I scold him like a parent would—like a parent should.

  “She shouldn’t have flirted back. If anything, I was doing the guy a favor. I showed him how easy his girlfriend is.” I can see him smiling through the intermittent street lights rolling over the car’s interior.

  “Yeah, but you’re the dumbass that decided to fight her boyfriend, and land your ass in jail,” Chase jokes.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Nick brushes it off, already bored of the conversation. He likes getting into fights. At first, I thought he did it to get our parents, William and Adaline’s, attention. They have never been attentive, or caring about what happens to us. But now, I think he just picks fights out of anger. He knows our parents don’t give a fuck if he’s in the hospital or not. They’re too worried about themselves, leaving it to me to pick up the slack.

  My train of thought is interrupted by my phone ringing. It’s 3 a.m. now. I guess the theme of the night is to call Colton and piss him off. I look at the Caller I.D. It’s my sister, Kaitlyn.

  “Hey, Kay, what’s up?” I ask when I answer the call.

  “Hey, is this Colton Hunter?” An unfamiliar girl’s voice asks on the other end of the line.

  “Yeah, who’s this?” I practically shout back, my anger flaring. This isn’t the first time this has happened. My sister’s friends are always calling to flirt with me, or ask me out. It’s pathetic.

  I’m about to hang up the phone when she says, “My name is Kiya. I’m calling because you need to come and pick up Kaitlyn.”

  “Pick her up from where, and why?” I ask, fearing what her answer is. I’m still annoyed from having to deal with my brother, and now this? This is a night from hell.

  “We’re at Eclipse. She’s hammered and throwing up. None of her friends are here,” the girl says.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

  Kaitlyn likes going to Eclipse. I never go there. It’s a tacky bar with sketchy people. I’m so tired that I just want to find my bed, but I know I’m not going to anytime soon. My sister needs me to pick her up. I take the next left turn, and start heading towards Eclipse.

  Everybody needs rescuing tonight.

  I guess I’m on call.

  Not The Same

  Not Alone Novellas (Book #1)

  Not the Same (Not Alone Novellas #1)

  I never meant to take on the role of parent.

  I was only fourteen years old.

  My job was to be a big brother, one my little brother could learn from—maybe even look up to.

  I wasn’t supposed to be the one he depended on for protection.

  But when Dad walked away, and Mom chose something else over us, I was left with no choice.

  I made a vow to protect my brother, and it’s a promise I intend to keep.

  Prologue

  I wish dad was here.

  “Hey, Mom, what’s this?” I ask, holding up a small plastic bag.
I found it inside one of her shoes when I was playing hide and seek in the closet with Ethan.

  “Is it sugar?” I ask curiously. Maybe she forgot it was there. I know she’s planning on making lemonade today.

  “Where did you find that?” she asks, walking quickly towards me. She sounds like she’s mad, but I don’t understand why; she’s usually happy when I find things.

  “It was—”

  Prying the bag from my hand, she demands “Where did you find it?”

  She yells the question this time and my bottom lip begins to tremble. I look down at my hand to see there’s a little bit of blood. I think she scratched me when she snatched the little bag.

  Tears begin to stream down my face. “It was in your…” I mumble, not understanding what I did to make Mommy so mad.

  “Where?” she shouts and I flinch.

  “Closet,” I reply. Ethan stayed in the room. He’s hiding until I go find him. I told him I’d be there as soon as I gave the sugar to Mom. I’m glad he’s not here to see me cry.

  “Don’t go in there again!” she tells me.

  “We were just playing hide and seek,” I try to tell her.

  She gives me a look that tells me I’m in trouble. “Don’t ever go in my closet again.” She says each word slowly and I nod my head, lips still trembling, tears still falling.

  I don’t know what I did to make her mad.

  She’s not usually mad at me.

  I wish Dad was here.

  She was never angry when he was here.

  Not The End

  Not Alone Novellas (Book #2)

  Not the End (Not Alone Novellas #2)

  I needed you.

  I needed you to tell me I was beautiful.

  I needed you to tell me it was all going to be okay.

  I needed you to be with me.

  To love me.

  To protect me.

  I needed you—

  but the sad thing is you didn’t need me.

  You didn’t want me.

  You never cared about me.

  And when you gave up on me, I gave up on me too.

  I lost myself because I found all my self-worth in you.

  And when you left me, I left myself too.

  Now I’m left wondering, could I come back for me?

  Prologue

  I know this emotion too well.

  I’ve known Jake since elementary school. I remember seeing him sitting at a lunch table on his own, and feeling sorry for him, I left my own table to join him. I remember the look on his face when he saw that he wasn’t alone anymore. I remember asking my mom to pack me a second set of chocolate chip cookies because he really liked them—he loved them, actually—and I wanted to make him happy.

  In middle school, things changed. He started being noticed by the other girls. He was growing into a man; he captured other peoples’ attention with his shaggy blond locks and baby blue eyes. I remember the first time he moved up in the social ladder. I was sitting at our usual table, waiting for him to arrive so we could go about switching and trading whatever lunch our parents had packed for us that day. Apple slices for carrots. Chocolate chip cookies for raisin ones. It had become our thing. I saw him enter through the cafeteria doors and my heart immediately began to beat faster. It always happened when Jake was around. I watched him walk in my direction, watched him smile when he noticed me. He was closing the distance between us when Janice Walcott got in his way—when she got in our way.

  From that moment on, our table wasn’t cool enough for him anymore. It stopped being our table. It was just mine. He sat with Janice and her friends. Eventually, her friends became their friends and my Jake became her Jacob. It wasn’t until a few months ago that he first approached me again. The rumor was that Janice had cheated on him, so he ended it. The halls were reeling with the news that Mills High’s power couple had split. Guys were lining up to ask Janice out, and girls had never really stopped trying to get their claws into Jacob when Janice wasn’t watching.

  “Hey.” That was what he said after joining me at my table again for the first time in years—the first time someone else had sat at my table with me. That was all I needed him to say for us to return to the place we were at before everything…before Janice.

  For three months he sat with me every day. Three weeks ago he asked me to prom.

  I said yes.

  “You look so pretty,” my momma says the moment she sees me coming down the stairs.

  “Oh mom, it’s your job to say that,” I tell her as I reach the final step.

  “It is, but it’s true. You’re going to be the prettiest girl at the ball.”

  “It’s Junior Prom, mom, not A Cinderella Story,” I tell her, though it might as well be one.

  I still can’t believe Jake asked me out. Not even in my dreams would a guy like him look my way, especially with all the other girls pining over him. I can’t believe he chose me.

  “When’s your date coming?” Momma asks, the camera already hanging from her neck, ready to take photos of her baby girl.

  “I’m meeting him there,” I answer. Her mouth opens with what I know will be a follow up question, and I brace myself to give an answer she won’t be thrilled with.

  “Isn’t it tradition for the guy to pick up the girl? Or am I stuck in the past?”

  I shrug. “They still do that, but he had something important to do today so he asked me to meet him there.” She looks at me skeptically, but I assure her, “It’ll be okay, mom. I’ll just drive myself.”

  “I can drive you if you want.”

  “I think that may be worse than showing up on my own.” I say, laughing as my mother joins me at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Bummer! I won’t be getting pictures of you both together.”

  I run my fingers through my hair, making sure it’s smooth enough. “I’ll make sure I get you a copy of the one we take when we walk in.”

  “Okay, but in the meantime, I won’t let this camera go to waste. Go ahead, strike some poses, Dimah.”

  I decide to give my mother what she wants and pretend to be a runway model. Today, I’m feeling confident. Which makes perfect sense, because when the hottest guy—a senior football player—asks you to accompany him to prom, you can’t help but get some pep in your step. Little old me, the envy of all the other girls.

  A few dozen photographs later, I give my mom a kiss goodbye and head to my car. The rules are simple: no drinking, no driving, and no sex. But we all know what happens at prom, and if Jake asks, I’m not sure I’ll say no. Who could say no to a tall, muscular, handsome man with baby blue eyes and blonde locks like Jake’s? Certainly no one else would. So why should I?

  Driving to Mills High takes a few minutes and after parking my car in the student lot, I give myself a once-over in the mirror. Looking back at me is the most basic girl you’ve ever seen: brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin—nothing special. But I guess I must be somewhat special to get a boy like Jake to look my way, don’t I? I reapply my lipstick, open the door, and get out.