Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) by Rachel Leigh (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

in the narrow, dark hallway, I switch my flashlight on again and shine it directly at the camera. It looks similar to the ones we have. Our system goes straight to a cloud storage that can only be viewed and deleted by those who have the password.

Fuck.

Dropping my phone to the side, I shut off the flashlight.

Why couldn’t there just be a room with monitors and one of those ancient cassette tape things like they have in old movies? Why does technology have to be so damned advanced? I’m not exactly complaining; I buy every new iPhone as soon as they are released, but damn, I’d give up all of my possessions just to get out of this mess.

That’s it. His phone. I have to get Talon’s phone. I’m sure he has the app, and the password is likely saved. I just need to get into it and delete the footage. It can’t be that hard. I don’t know much about these guys, but I do know what they like—destruction, drinking, and sex.

There is no way in hell these boys will have any part in my life. I’m not exactly a Susie Do-gooder, but I’m sure as hell not on their playing level. They play hard, and they always win. If they think someone knows their secret, they will not stop until that person is silenced. And it’s just my luck, that person is me.

Slow and steady steps lead me down the thirty step staircase. My fingers trail lightly on the wooden rail attached to the wall. Talon’s house is this huge, luxurious bachelor pad. Zed and Lars live here with him. Apparently, they’ve all dropped out of high school. I’ve heard Talon is finishing up online, but I highly doubt that's working out well for him. Tommy still goes to school, and still lives with his parents. At least one of them has life goals.

Glass wrapped walls are on the east side of the house with an automatic door that opens to the fluorescent glow of the underground pool. He bought this house six months ago after returning from a mind-cleansing retreat. We all know it was rehab, but he doesn’t make it public knowledge. He and his sister were given millions when their parents disappeared off the face of the earth. Rumor has it, his dad killed someone and his mom was a royal bitch to the kids. No wonder the kid lacks a moral compass.

I don’t know Talon well; I’m not sure anyone does. He keeps his circle small, but everyone looks at him like he’s some sort of god. He has the world in the palm of his hands with money, power, and zero guidance, since his parents are gone and his sister is only a few years older than us.

The music grows closer, and the bass is so loud I can’t even make out the words to the heavy metal song. There are people everywhere, body to body. Some dancing, some trying to hold a conversation over the noise, and most of them holding a drink in their hands. All except for me. A couple of girls walk by and I snatch a cup out of the hands of a petite girl with blonde pigtails. “Thanks.” I smirk.

When she stands there looking at me with sheer confusion, I make a move, slamming my foot to the ground and acting like I’m going in for the kill. Shrieking, she backs away with her eyes glued to me. Her friends look like they might piss themselves.

Talon Porter may be a god around here, but I’m not too far beneath him on that totem pole. I have a pull in this town. Namely because of my dad and his influence on the community. Also, my older brother, Axel. He was a legend at Redwood High. Not for sports or honors, but for his “don’t fuck with me or my family” mantra. He instilled a level of respect and fear in the residents of this town when it comes to our family.

Talon might have money and connections, but we have them, too. We, Thorns do not cower to threats, and if it comes down to it, we will fight back.

That doesn’t matter, though—not yet. I still have time to put a stop to this.

Now that I have a drink in hand and I’m blending in, I spot Talon sitting on a chair with two chicks on his lap, and it makes my stomach turn.

Kill or be killed.

I just need to dump this drink on him and take his phone while I attempt to brush him off with an over dramatic apology. It can’t be that hard.

Stumbling over like I’m three sheets to the wind, I use my four years of drama class to my advantage. “Raging party, Talon.” Holding my cup up in cheers, he completely ignores me.

Lars comes up behind him, bends over with a look of agitation, and whispers something in his ear that sends a wash of anger over Talon’s face. Lars comes back up, looks me dead in the eye, sending shivers down my spine, and then turns away.

The girls on Talon’s lap turn inward, one slobbering all over his neck, while the other trails her index finger down his cheek. Both are wearing skintight dresses that leave nothing to the imagination. “Let’s take this party upstairs.” She leans closer, her face pressed against his as she cups his dick in her hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

My eyes move from her hand, up to his face, and I realize he’s watching me. “Can I help you?” His voice is stern, a thin layer of pink shading the whites of his eyes that tells me he’s high or has had too much to drink. It’s hard to tell with him.

I bring the cup up to my chest and look around to see if there is anyone else nearby that he’s addressing right now. “Me?”

Standing up, he lets the girls fall to the ground. They brush