Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2)

by Taylor Blaine

  Brock and Gunner led the way to the other side of the loft, their steps softer than I would expect from such largely muscled guys. Snugged against the side of the rear window sill, Gunner shook his head and held up his hand as we got closer. He whispered, “They’re looking at the rig. The cop’s inside the cab. It looks like he’s trying to start it. His partner is looking at the dirt.” Gunner grinned and glanced at Stryker, quirking his eyebrow as if to congratulate his cousin.

  We all listened intently. Could we pick up their conversation as they climbed in and out of the cab?

  “…look around?” The lead’s voice was deep enough in tone we could hear it plainly on specific syllables, not so clearly on others.

  But his request to look around was just enough to let us know what was possible. I continued holding Sara’s hand while turning my head to search Stryker’s face. “Where do we hide?” Hiding was against everything in my nature, but there were moments of necessity and right then, my need to stay out of jail and out of the Russians’ hands couldn’t be over-turned by anything – even my pride.

  Stryker’s gaze held mine and I wanted to jump on him, beg him to help us, demand that he kiss me, and ask him to fix my mistakes all at once. Which would get me the fastest results? Which would be the easiest for him?

  Chapter 3

  Gray

  “Sure. Have at it. Be careful, though, I have a mouse problem.” Tiny’s voice broke through our stupor. The land owner had given the cops permission to search his place. They could pretty much do whatever they wanted at that point.

  Which meant, we’d be found in just a matter of time. My heart pounded faster and faster, hurting as the possibilities loomed ahead of me.

  I glanced to Gunner. For some reason, he struck me as the calm of the group. If the three cousins were a storm, he’d be the calm that prepared the way for the thunder and lightning. Brock would bring up the rear with his angry wind and loud yelling. Stryker… he struck first and asked questions later. His power seemed to always be held in check as if waiting to be released.

  Gunner stared at Stryker, waiting for directions. Stryker seemed to be the foundation for all three, even standing strong for the school and the community. Stryker controlled a lot. His power just added to his appeal.

  As impressive as that was, he couldn’t control me. I had to work on convincing myself that the only thing I wanted from the lead cousin was for him to get us out of the trap we were in.

  Taking the unspoken challenge and keeping his words low, Stryker motioned toward a window with a dusty, grimy pane and chipped frame.

  I blinked. What he wanted wasn’t clear. I glanced around the group, hoping someone else might have more clarity than me. Was I still drunk? Maybe I was still tired. Did he want us to go out the window?

  “That’s a window.” Sara whispered, as if she had contracted my incredulity. Of the two of us, she was a natural beauty and she usually woke up as pretty as she went to sleep. It was more than a little annoying as I stood by a guy that left my insides mushy and had held me all night. What kind of a mess was I?

  She had that damsel in distress vibe and I had no doubt I could kick myself out of any problem. Guys probably didn’t like that kind of confidence, especially a guy like Stryker. He was the type who needed to be needed. I didn’t need anyone.

  A slow grin curved the side of Stryker’s lips as he met my gaze. Then his husky whisper liquified my insides even more. “How are you with heights?”

  Heights? “I’m sure they’re not as bad as prison. I don’t do tight places. Let’s go.” I wrapped my bravado around me like a shield. If I couldn’t be the damsel in distress, then I’d be the kickass heroine who wasn’t afraid of anything.

  Or who faked everything. I could do that. I could fake it. I’d killed someone. What else could I possibly fear? Besides going to prison for that or facing the Russians’ revenge.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about it, over and over and over. I had to stop or I was going to go insane. Maybe I was already there. Maybe I’d passed that point a long time ago.

  But it was hard to think of something else when you were hiding from the very thing you were trying not to think about. I’d be the first to admit I was stuck in a vicious cycle and I couldn’t get out.

  I picked my feet up, trying to walk softly so I wouldn’t be heard. Reaching the window before everyone else, I took a bracing breath before turning back with a tight smile. I jerked my chin upward and pointed at the frame, whispering, “How does it open?”

  The old-style frame had one pane of glass and seemed to be nailed in place. A decided lack of knobs, locks, or levers left me feeling it was a hope that had been dashed before it could even be developed.

  Stryker moved to stand by me, searching my face for something I hoped he couldn’t find. I wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable with him, or anyone. After not being able to find what he was looking for in my expression, Stryker continued holding my gaze and reached out, twisting a bent nail at the top of the frame.

  The window bent inward, letting in a burst of early morning air with the crisp refreshing scent of fresh rain as it combined its efforts with the other open window across the loft.

  My breathing slowed and I sensed an anxiety attack around the corner. But I could never let him know that. I could never let anyone know how scared I really was.

  I nodded tightly, moving toward the now-open window. I braced my arms on the sides of the open frame.

  Stryker gently rested a finger on my forearm, pausing until I turned to face him. I couldn’t for a moment, holding my breath until I got my worry under control.

  The voices of the officers moved toward the front of the building, opposite where we were, muffling the syllables where a hard consonant should be. We didn’t have much time before they would be inside.

  Stryker grazed his finger around the side of my arm, his touch tickling and soft as he moved his fingertips to the delicate skin on the inside of my bicep. “You don’t have to do this. We can figure something else out.” Were his words just for me? The gentling of intention in his eyes had to be as he inclined his head toward me.

  He might say that I didn’t have to do it. He might say that we had other options. But I knew deep down, we had run out of choices. If I wanted Sara to go out the window, I had to do it first. The fact that Stryker thought I might be scared, meant that I hadn’t done a very convincing job of faking anything.

  “I’m fine.” Even if fine was a four-letter word, I couldn’t let him know I was actually scared.

  He nodded, completely unconvinced. “Once you’re out, go to the right. Stay there and wait. Step softly. The roof’s made of tin and the sounds will carry.”

  I didn’t reply or react. If I paused too much longer, I’d probably change my mind. There were some things you did without thinking. Going on the roof of a more than two-story barn was one of them.

  Using my knees to balance myself, I poked my head out the opening, searching the building line where I would be stepping. I could do this. If the men returned to the back of the barn or walked down the drive, they’d see us easily. One more thing to be worried about.

  The drop didn’t seem too far and the place we’d be walking wasn’t too narrow – if I could convince myself that two feet wide wasn’t too narrow.

  I didn’t even take the time to swallow. I pushed through the opening, scraping my left knee on a poorly placed screw protruding from the sill. I bit my lip, smothering the whimper. I’d probably start bleeding, but I’d have to deal with that later.

  I rolled over to the side, bringing my other leg through and peeking at Stryker through the opening. I nodded as if to convince him – or me – that everything was going to be just fine.

  Sara must have been convinced. She rushed to the window, thrusting her head through as if she had no qualms what was on the other side. I reached my hand out, willing to help her, certain it would give me something else to focus on besides the dizzying distance to the ground.
I didn’t need to stare at the truck beneath us, or the mounds of dirt and gravel that I’d missed the night before when we’d rushed into the barn.

  A line of trees worked as a perimeter, protecting the property from any prying eyes on the roads. If we really wanted to escape, we’d attempt jumping and then race – if our legs weren’t broken – to the woods where we could disappear. Maybe.

  Sara followed me out. Her movements frantic as she sought escape. She pressed her back against the overhang beside the window, glancing at me in shock. “How are you not freaking out?” Her whisper was underscored by the sound of the cops working their way toward the stairs on the lower level. They were taking their time, thoroughly rearranging things around like we might be hiding in boxes or on shelves.

  My friend’s question left me unsure how to answer. I shook my head. If I opened my lips, even a little bit, the possibility that I was going to lose it was very real.

  A box of nails must have fallen beneath us in the barn, the sound of metal sprinkling the gravelly ground echoed up through the wood siding.

  They were getting closer.

  Gunner came through next, more elegant and powerful than myself. He shimmied to the side, careful to go to the left of the window away from Sara and me.

  We only had two left. We could do this. I ducked into the open space of the window, checking to see the progress. Stryker motioned for Brock to hurry. He glanced out the window, shaking his head when his eyes met mine.

  The voices were at the bottom of the steps, the tones carrying, duplicating as they echoed up the wooden steps and bounced off the walls.

  I ducked back, more than aware that the window was already small without blocking the escape. Holding my breath, I ground my teeth. Come on. Come on.

  Brock darted through, his massive arms pulling him across the threshold like he was jumping through a slide hole in an amusement park. Even his insane grin suggested he was having more fun than he knew he should be. He pushed Gunner to the side, staring at me as if to challenge my position beside Sara. I held his gaze. I wasn’t a runner and I wouldn’t hide unless I needed to.

  I certainly wouldn’t back down from a guy who had no ability holding his anger in check. The window scraped almost completely shut. Maybe he’d shut it so he could open the window open more fully. He was a bigger guy and might need more space to get out. I blinked, waiting for Stryker to emerge, certain he’d be seconds behind Brock, but a minute passed. And then another.

  The window stayed closed.

  The sound of the officers’ voices mixed with Tiny’s as they inevitably climbed the stairs. I held my breath, staring at the window where Stryker should be coming through, I didn’t even care if he fell through at that point.

  Worriedly, I glanced over my shoulder at Sara who shook her head at me. What did she think I was going to do?

  Their voices grew louder and louder and I didn’t care what they were saying. Stryker wasn’t out there. Where was he? Why wasn’t anyone else freaking out?

  Pressing my shoulders against the side of the barn at my back, I stared at Gunner and Brock whose own eyes were wide and, dare I say, scared? These guys who never let anything bother them had a weakness?

  It shouldn’t count as a weakness when it was one of their own. If anything, that was most likely a strength when most people didn’t care about others. Stryker’s absence in that moment struck us all hard. I leaned my head against the wall behind me. Prickly pieces of wood slat picked at my hair. I closed my eyes. Stryker, where are you?

  “What’s this?” The police officer’s curious tone almost made me gag. Was he joking? He had reached the top of the loft and was probably staring at Stryker right that minute. How could the cop taunt and torment Stryker when he had no intention of being lenient?

  “Oh, yeah, I collect tires from rare vehicles. There’s a real possibility they’ll never be needed.” Tiny’s booming laugh confused me. Where had Stryker gone? Why weren’t they arresting him?

  I dug my fingers against the side of the building beneath my hips, the slight scratching sound loud to my ears. A slight gasp from Sara told me she’d heard. I flattened my fingers and stared up into the still lightening sky.

  Where had Stryker gone?

  Stryker

  My shoulders were never going to fit through that damn window, no matter how much I pushed the others through. While they’d escaped, I’d had to come up with a separate plan There’s no way I could get caught. The consequences were more serious than I wanted to deal with at the time.

  From my position inside the stack of rare 37-inch tires, I closed my eyes. I’d climbed into the musty stack made of about six tires while Brock had shimmied out the window. I was honestly surprised he’d been able to make it through. He wasn’t as lanky as Gunner and his arms rivaled mine.

  I couldn’t breathe too deeply in the stack. Even with the large wheel space in the tires, any movement on my part took up valuable space and moved the tires.

  “What do you do when you run a car shop? You collect the tires.” Tiny’s voice echoed off the floor and ceiling and yet they still moved closer.

  “These could fit ’45 CJ Jeep, right?” A shuffling from the officer, like he put his hands on his waist broke through the sound of my own heartbeat. “I used to have one, but you know what happens when you get married and have kids. Nothing goes your way anymore. Maybe I need to start collecting pieces again. You consider selling these at some point?”

  “I never got married or had kids. And yeah, you let me know when, I’ll most likely have those here.” Tiny’s abrupt tone brooked no further discussion and he spoke to cover the awkwardness of the conversation. “So, officers, what’s going on? I mean, you’ve searched my property at this point. What could have you so riled up about that black truck?”

  Something tickled the soft skin of my wrist but I ignored it. Hopefully, it would just be my shirt hem or maybe the edge of the rubber tire. I didn’t want to think about Tiny’s earlier comment about the mouse problem. I wasn’t afraid of something like that, but those things were filthy. I thought they were gone because of the traps, but that had been wishful thinking.

  “A couple of punks driving in a vehicle similar to that one threw glass bottles at my windshield last night. We were both speeding in opposite directions. It destroyed the windshield of the cruiser and could have been much more serious. Have you seen anyone like that around here?” He hadn’t lost any of the suspicion in his voice, but he spoke to Tiny like they were conspirators and no longer on opposite sides of the law, but at least his voice confirmed he wasn’t convinced that the truck in the back was the same one he looked for.

  “Wow. That’s quite a story. Well, I don’t have anyone in here as you can see. You’re welcome to search the house as well as the surrounding property, if you’d like. I do have to be honest, though. I didn’t see the motion lights go on last night even though I have a deer problem. Plus, I tend to shoot first and ask questions later. If I had any trespassers, they’d probably be shot on sight. I’m not a fan of police evaders.” The bite in his tone made me sigh softly.

  A squeak of rubber on rubber made me widen my eyes. I clenched my teeth. Were they shaking the tire stacks? I couldn’t guarantee what would happen if they budged mine. There was a very precarious balance I struggled to maintain in the stack and being shoved off-balance would probably topple me to the side and expose my position.

  The sound of boots crossing the floor mingled with the sound of rubber on rubber and even rubber scraping across gritty wood.

  Regardless of what I wanted; it appeared the cops were doing a more thorough job of a search than even Tiny had authorized.

  The stack closest to me rocked back and forth. Then the sound of a solid body hitting the ground followed by the bounce of a tire coming to rest stole my breath. My palms slid on the edge of the tire and I caught my weight from falling further into the tire stack. The deeper I went in, the harder it would be to get out.

  A momen
t of silence passed and I was certain I couldn’t be the only one feeling the tension in the room. Then someone shifted on their feet and broke the moment. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer and look through your house, if it’s all the same to you.” The officer didn’t ask it like a question. He moved toward the steps, as if he were trying to take control of the situation but he had no real idea what was going on.

  “Sounds good. I’ll be right behind you. I see one of my traps was tripped. It looks like I got a big one.” Was he talking about me? Had I fallen into one of his traps?

  More movement at my wrist confirmed that either a spider was on me or a mouse lived in the tires. I softly flicked the animal off my wrist, soundless

  The officers climbed down the stairs; their footsteps solid as they clunked to the dirt floor.

  Tiny bustled around the loft, things clicking around as he worked. After the officers’ voices moved out to the front of the barn, Tiny spoke with the utmost calm, keeping his volume low like he spoke to himself. “If you’re in here, wait until they leave, then come to the house for breakfast. I’ll put some ham on.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, but trudged across the floor and disappeared after the police.

  I took a minute to just breathe in my relief. I was going to have a hell of a time getting out of those tires, but I wouldn’t have to worry about handcuffs on myself, my cousins, or the girls.

  I could handle anything, if I could protect them.

  Tiny started whistling, a tune I’d never heard before but most likely something that was designed to give me a heads up on his location. He whistled, moving down the stairs and out the front door, slow and steady.

  I took a breath and adjusted myself to be able to move one arm above my head and then the other. I placed a foot on the rungs, the tires so thick, the stack didn’t move as I climbed up the interiors like a ladder. Using my arms, I pulled and pushed at the same time, emerging from the pile with everything in me.