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

Marni’s eyes shoot out at me when Lars grabs the ice cream scooper on the counter. “No!” she grabs it from his hand, “you don’t wanna use that.”

“Oh come on.” I smirk, as I take it from her hands and dig it into the ice cream. “The boy wants a taste of this sweet stuff.” I drop a scoop into Lars’ bowl then hand it to him. “Enjoy.”

Shaking her head at me with disapproval, I literally fight myself not to mirror the smile that creeps on her face. When her eyes soften and I look at them deeper, it’s impossible not to feel something. This moment is ours. These secrets are ours. And her smile is mine.

When the guys leave, Marni insists on cleaning up any remnants of our being here. She seems to think that her dad would lose his shit. What she doesn’t know is that none of us fear the old man.

Marni is tossing all the dirty dishes in the sink from the guys’ ice cream social when she holds up the scooper. “Maybe I should just throw this thing away.” She fights back a smile.

“Oh no you don’t.” I grab it and drop it into the sink. “We might need it again.”

“Not a chance.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. And definitely don’t be embarrassed. It was hot as fuck.” I push my hair back over my dampened hairline. I’m still sweating from the explosion.

“I’m not embarrassed. I’m just not proud that it was with you.”

“Oooh, burn.” I make a sizzle sound with my tongue. “Why’s that? Because I’m so repulsive?” I know that girls like Marni don’t typically fall for guys like me. She’s the former head cheerleader. The girl that all the other girls hate and the one all the guys want to fuck. She’s also extremely fucking sad and a bit rough around the edges. She’s too damn good for me. I might have money and power but I’m the reason that dads with daughters have loaded guns at their doors.

“Repulsive? No. You’re not repulsive at all, Talon. You’re just…” she searches for the word and I find myself hanging on it, “…daunting.”

“Daunting?” I laugh. “As in, scary?”

Grabbing a rag she begins wiping up the slop of melted ice cream on the counter. “Why is that so funny? Should I remind you of everything you’ve done and said to me?”

“And should I remind you, that I knew you before all of this started?”

“Maybe this was all part of some elaborate scheme. Maybe Josh wasn’t the obsessed psycho.” She presses her hand on the counter and turns toward me. “Maybe you’re the one I should have feared all along.”

If only that weren’t true, this would be a hell of a lot easier. Unfortunately, it is. I take a step toward her and watch as her breaths skip when I tangle my fingers in the back of her hair. “You’re smart to fear me, but you’d be a fool to deny me.” I pull her mouth to mine and allow our lips to melt together without movement. Stagnant like a still pond. Captivating, yet unmotivated. There is no manipulation behind this kiss. It’s just for the plain and simple fact that I wanted to do it—if only just to feel her. Or to let her feel me and see that while I might be a monster, I also tremble when we touch.

13

“Listen,” I whisper, “there is no way that I can hold on to this phone any longer. We need to do this tonight.” I look up and down Talon’s driveway, behind me and in front of me, making sure that no one is around.

“I can’t do it,” Wyatt says. I hate this all so much. Dragging him into this mess. Asking him to do this. But, I don’t have a choice.

“Wyatt, Please. I’m begging you.” I turn on my sweet voice. The one that always gets me what I want. The one I used on Dad when I told him that I wanted to stay in L.A. It’s not the same one I used when I told him I was staying with Shay. That one was demanding and, somehow, it still worked.

“How do you plan on getting away from them this time? They’re not stupid, they’ll never let you leave.”

“I have a plan,” I whisper into the phone. “Please, Wyatt,” I repeat, “I’m begging you.”

Another beat of silence.

“Fine.”

Adrenaline rushes through me. “Really? Oh my gosh, thank you, Wyatt.” I jump up, and I know he can hear my smile through the phone. “I knew I could count on you. Ok. The party is at seven. I’ll need until at least nine o’clock to get Talon off my back. Pick me up at the end of the driveway at nine-fifteen. If I’m running late, don’t call. I’ll be there.”

“If I die because of this, my blood is on your hands.”

The line goes dead. I know he’s not pleased with the situation and what I’m asking him to do. But, it’ll be fine. We’ll get the info, and I’ll put the phone back like nothing ever happened. Talon may know I have it, but I’ll never admit it.

Talon’s truck comes down the driveway, and I can immediately tell that he’s pissed. I may have driven a little too fast and took a different route to get here before him. When his eyes widen, and he tilts his head backward, my jaw drops open and any sense of elation or calm that I did have is quickly diminished when I see the red and blue lights on the top of the car directly behind him. My first instinct is to run, but that’s obviously not an option.

When Talon’s truck stops right next to my car, he climbs out and slams the door shut, which is followed by the shutting of the officer’s car door. “Is there a problem?” Talon asks when he comes into view.

There’s a