Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance by Lindsey Iler (read with me .TXT) 📗

rolls up the passenger side window. Sadness radiates from every speckle of green until they disappear behind the tint.

This gauntlet is inevitable. I know that now from simply looking at Breaker’s face. He’s been challenged, and there’s no way he’ll stand down. Tripp and Breaker each feel like they have something to prove. They’ll need to prove it to themselves because it doesn’t matter what the results are.

I’ll be the lost girl with every battle they fight, at war with my own thoughts as they destroy each other.

Chapter Five

Breaker

“So, what’s the plan?” Dixon asks from the back seat. He leans forward, breathing down my neck, and cutting his eyes between Marek and me.

What’s the plan is a valid question. I’m not certain how I’ll handle the things that will be thrown at me throughout this gauntlet. I’ve done my research, and if we play by the “rules,” then this could last for a few months. It’s not decided until someone taps out, and I don’t plan on tapping out anytime soon.

I drive down the dirt road and park at the marker Tripp chose. The old building to our left, pre-World War One if I had to guess, is barely standing. I slice my eyes over to Marek. He’s scanning the area to make sure we aren’t caught off guard as we leave the safety of the car.

“And no offense, but how did we get dragged into this?” Dixon adds, holding his arms out straight. “Come on, boys. We came here to play. Where are you?”

“For someone who doesn’t want to be pulled into this mess, you sure are having fun goading them.” Marek circles the truck and leans against the hood, laughing as Dixon makes a show of being here.

“Gauntlet rules state any participant gets to choose two men to join them.”

“And since we’re your friends, we’re the winners. Nice.” Dixon kicks at my boot, but I don’t see the humor in his joke. “Dude, relax. I’m fucking with you. You know I got your back.”

“Well, that’s good, because he’s going to need it.” Like a fucking stealth member of Seal Team Six, Tripp and two cronies appear out of nowhere.

“Fuck, asshole!” Dixon shoves his chest as he approaches. “At least announce your arrival. You trying to give me a heart attack?”

“This is who you chose, out of everyone?” Tripp points at Dixon.

From the outside, I’ll admit he looks like he’s not capable of much. Although his body is built like a Mack truck, he appears unable to create carnage.

“What, is it my glasses?” Dixon takes them from his face and inspects them before returning them to his nose. “Don’t let them fool you. I could fuck your mom, then reroute your family’s wealth to my account in a matter of seconds, Tripp DuPont.”

“He’s not lying,” Marek adds, enjoying this exchange far too much.

“Anyway.” Tripp rolls his eyes in the way a bitch does. “You know Richards, and this is Patrick Washington.”

“Like George?” Dixon mutters under his breath.

“Yes, like George. A direct descendent.”

“No shit?” Dixon exclaims, making a show of thinking that fun fact is interesting. “That’s really fucking cool.”

“I know. It’s crazy how far in history we were able to link our families.” Patrick eats Dixon’s words with enthusiasm.

“Oh, for fucking sure.” At this point, Dixon’s face is fully animated.

“Dude, he’s fucking with you,” Tripp points out, annoyed one of his boys has been had by one of mine.

“No one gives a fuck about your family, Pat.” Dixon turns away, pacing around with pent-up energy. “Can we move this along? I have far better shit to do with my time than stand in front of three rich kids on a power trip.”

“Says three rich kids,” Richards adds.

“Yeah, the difference is we don’t think our money opens doors to whatever we want. We haven’t built our entire personalities around having money.”

“No, you built yours on bloodshed and mayhem.” Richards goes rigid, readying for a fight. “Especially you, Hawthorne.”

“And to think you were dumb enough to come out to the middle of nowhere to fuck with three people who don’t have any limits.” I shove off the truck and circle Tripp several times, proving my point. “You worried? Because you should be. You’ve just entered the arena with monsters.”

“We might fight different, but we aren’t that different. We’re all monsters in our own right.”

“Prove it.”

Tripp takes off through the field, straight for the dilapidated building, with Patrick and Richards on his heels. We follow, unsure of the situation we are willingly walking into.

The grass crunches under my boots. Snow dusts the ground, and the air is freezing. As we approach, light flickers inside the old building, and it isn’t until we’re closer that I notice the fire inside.

“What is this place?” I ask, crossing the threshold.

“It belongs to Glass Heart, but Hollow Hill has basically taken ownership of the place for the past fifty years. A gauntlet gone wrong is the legend.” The three of them huddle around the fire, while Marek, Dixon, and I walk around the space, checking it out.

There are words written over the walls, names and dates, some dating at the start of the academies.

“Have we always had a rivalry?” The question is rhetorical. The answer is on the walls. A stack of books draws my attention, and I flip open one of the covers. Pictures and entries in a journal are proof. “Damn, the hatred is deep-rooted.”

“Most of the gauntlets have been over women,” Tripp explains.

“That shocks no one.” Marek’s grin glows beyond the fire. “Wars have been waged over love. This comes as no surprise.”

“So, how does this work?” I ask, ready to get to the point.

“Well, each of us can call for an event in the gauntlet.”

“Where is the gauntlet?” Dixon asks.

“It used to be an actual armored glove, but as years passed, it’s evolved. The gauntlet is now simply a state of mind. Wherever you call it, it’s where it will be,” Tripp explains.

“And there’s no limit?”

“No limits. Anything goes.”

“Legally, how does this