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

“Guess you just can’t drink like you used to.” We make it halfway up the stairs before he begins to put more weight on me, and I fear that one wrong move will send us both crashing down.

We finally reach the top of the stairs, and just as we round the corner, I hear Zed. “What’s going on up there?”

Oh shit. 

Pushing Talon up against the wall, I hold him in place with one hand. Thankfully, he’s still got some strength in his legs. I peek around the corner and look down at Zed. He’s standing at the bottom of the steps in a solid black t-shirt and black jeans. His dark hair is flipped to the side and his eyes zero in on me. “Talon had a little too much to drink. I’m just helping him to bed.” I steal a glance at Talon whose eyes are completely closed.

When I look back down the stairs, Zed is gone.

That’s too fucking weird. Zed is constantly suspicious of everything that I do, yet now, he’s not even questioning me. Brushing it off, I lead Talon down the rest of the hallway.

It suddenly hits me that I don’t know the password to get upstairs.

My room is only three feet away, so I push open the door, and just as we step inside, Talon collapses to the floor. There is no way that I can get him on that bed and there’s really no point. He’s already asleep; what does he care if he’s comfortable or not?

I go to leave the room but turn back around, and for a brief moment, my heart swells at the sight of Talon lying there—helpless and hopeless. His shirt is tugged up and an array of raised bumps stem out like branches of a tree. Skin colored with a hint of pink where the injuries healed. Beneath them are blotches of brown-colored skin that look like the remnants of a bad burn. He might do some monstrous things, but he’s not a monster. He’s had to endure so much pain in his short eighteen years of life. It’s no wonder that he looks at the world as a dark hole.

Stepping out into the hall, I shut the door, press my back to it, and close my eyes.

No regrets. Now is not the time. 

Thinking for a moment, I shake off the unwanted thoughts. It has to be this way. Even if a small part of me might be getting attached to a small part of Talon, he’s the reason that I’m in this constant state of worry. Because of him, there is evidence out there that could incriminate me in a murder. He’s also failing to divulge any information on Josh’s death. I still don’t know how or why he died. All I know is that I have to look after myself. Because, in the end, I only have myself.

Shay is already three sheets to the wind, and she’s giving a lap dance to a sophomore. Grabbing her by the arm, I pull her away from making a big mistake. Though, you’d think I just ran over her puppy with the look she’s giving me.

“Let go of me. I like that guy,” she snaps, and it’s all too strange being on this end of the dragging. I’ve been dragged around for the past couple days by these guys, and it feels good to take back a little control.

Once we are away from the crowd, I release her arm. “Two words. Too young.”

Completely changing the subject, she whines, “I miss my best friend. We used to talk every single day and now that you’re running around with these guys, you’re keeping things from me and it’s like I don’t even exist anymore.”

“It’s been six days. Things are just really weird right now.” I pull her in for a hug and she doesn’t fight me off. “I promise, things will get back to normal.” That’s why I’m doing this. They have to get back to normal. I’m just unclear of what normal looks like anymore.

Shay flashes a smile and pulls me toward the open French doors that lead to the pool. Blue neon lights are strung in the dark and the fluorescent glow of the pool is ambient. Music is blaring, and everyone is having a good time. Everyone except for Talon. I excuse myself when Shay picks up a conversation with a few girls from our class, then go back inside with the plan to leave out the garage door.

On my way out, I stop for a drink and make it an extra strong one in hopes of alleviating some of this anxiety. This whole situation is reminding me too much of last week. As the contents of my cup slide down, nice and smooth, I’ve already convinced myself that I’m skipping school tomorrow. I imagine half of the party-goers will be skipping too. It’s typical when Talon throws these weekday parties.

The pool of liquor that’s settling in my stomach has me welcoming the dark and quiet walk down the driveway. I stop at my car and look around before I grab the phone from underneath my seat and stuff it in my bra. The party can be heard in the distance, but it’s nice to be by myself for once. I’ve spent so much of my life alone that being around these people and these guys all the time has become a day-to-day misery that overwhelms me.

I’m not sure when I transitioned from being a socialite to an introvert, but I was starting to like it there. Now, I’m forced to be within arm’s reach at all times because someone thinks that I might slip up and destroy us all. They think I’m fucking stupid, but they don’t know me.

Wyatt is parked right where I told him to be with his lights off. Another car pulls down the driveway, so I move to the side. Normally, I