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

would discern that it was suspicious to have Wyatt sitting there, and he’s probably shaking in his boots, but this liquid courage has my two fucks in my back pocket. I pull open the door and slide in, and before I can even shut it, Wyatt has the car running and we’re speeding off, tossing gravel in our wake. “Woah Andretti, slow down. No one saw us.” I go to tip back my half-empty cup, and he reaches over and grabs it. “Hey!”

“Come on, Marni. I know you’re smarter than that. You’re not drinking in my car while I drive.”

Wyatt is as law abiding as they come. Well, he was until now.

Pouting, and missing my drink, I tuck one leg under the other. “So, what’s the plan. Go to your dad’s office and break in?”

“We’re not going to the headquarters. We’re going to the CEO’s home office.” He smirks.

My eyes light up. “Wait? Your dad has one at his house?”

“He does now. I may have paid him a visit earlier today and snuck into the manufacturing room and taken one.”

“Holy shit.” I chuckle. “Where is my strait-laced bestie and who the hell are you?”

“I might be strait-laced, but I also hate those douchebags and would love nothing more than to watch you take them down.” Biting the corner of my lip, I nod in agreement. Though, inside, I’m so fucking terrified of what I’m about to find out.

We walk into Wyatt’s house and I’m still reeling from the effects of the alcohol. “Your parents home?” I ask, as I head straight for the liquor cabinet. Some of the bottles are half water, thanks to Shay and I always tapping into them. Wyatt’s parents don’t drink much, obviously, because if they did, these bottles wouldn’t still be here.

“No, but they will be soon, so we need to hurry.”

I twist the top off a bottle of Pucker and tip it back. The apple flavored liquor leaves behind a warmth in my stomach and a cloudy feeling in my head.

Carrying the bottle with me, I follow behind Wyatt as he leads the way into his bedroom. His room is a mess, as per usual. Kicking clothes under my feet as I walk across the floor, I flop my ass onto his bed. “Alright, let’s see the device that made your daddy famous.”

Wyatt bends at the waist and pulls open a drawer underneath his bed. I peer down and see the black box inside. It’s much smaller than I thought. It’s about the size of a Rubik’s Cube and has two cords attached to it. One of which has about a dozen different connectors.

“Do you have a card?” I ask him.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a small SD card and holds it up. “Like I’d forget the card.” He slides it into the slot on the box and carries it over to the wall outlet where he plugs it in. “You sure you wanna do this?” he asks, as I give him the phone.

I tap my fingertips together deviously. “Absolutely.” He plugs the phone in and powers it on. Then he hits a button and a green light comes on. We both watch quietly and minutes pass before a red light comes on and the device beeps. He unplugs the phone, turns it off, pops out the card and hands me both. “That’s it?”

“Yep. Pretty awesome, huh?” He pulls open his drawer and puts the device back inside.

“So what now? I just put this into my computer and the data will show up?”

“Pretty much. I doubt you’ll be able to read much of the data, but you’ll be able to see phone numbers and any photos or videos he has.”

“Perfect.” I waggle my brows. “That’s all I need.”

16

When I return, the party is still raging. Shadows of the swaying bodies dance off the walls in the dimmed living room. Voices carry through the kitchen and the splash of water and a girl squealing has me thinking that the peak of the party hasn’t even hit yet. There are more people here now than when I left. Trying to blend in and make an escape upstairs, I spot Lars bent over the center island in the kitchen. His arms are folded in front of him against the granite and his eyes are plastered on yours truly. The look in his eyes isn’t foreign to me, but it’s not one that I care to see often. Pointing his finger at me, he bends it back and forth, calling me over.

I take a deep breath, roll my eyes and obey the command. Talon’s phone is snug in my back pocket, and the SD card is tucked in my bra. Let’s just hope he doesn’t try to get touchy feely like he usually does. “What'd ya want? I’m tired.”

“I bet you are. You’ve had a busy night.”

Crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to hide my third nipple, I pop my hip up. “You’re right, I have. Now if you’d cut to the chase, I’d like to go to bed. I’m half-drunk and really fucking tired.”

“Where’s your bodyguard? Haven’t seen him around. Now that I think of it, this is the first I’ve seen of you tonight.”

“Talon’s passed out and I’ve been laying low. I’m not exactly keen on the gossip going around about me right now.”

I’ve heard the whispers. She’s screwing all four of them. She’s only staying in that house because her dad kicked her out. No one wants the poor girl. Whore. Fortunately, I have thick skin, and I’ve never cared what anyone thought of me. I also have no problem socking a bitch if she steps too far out of line.

With both hands, he pushes himself off the island and circles around it until he’s at my side. “Fuck the rumors. They’re carried by haters and accepted by cowards.” With an index finger pressed to my chin, he tilts my head up. “We know the truth.”

Yeah, we