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

“He’s going to try to convince them he didn’t do what he did, but we know what he’s guilty of. We all know it, Aunt Emily.” I bend down, overwhelmed with fear and tired of feeling this hopelessness.

Her loving hand lands on my shoulder, rubbing circles to try to calm me. My phone buzzes, and I ignore it.

“I will never allow him to harm them in any way,” she whispers with a faith I understand all too well. It’s the same voice that comforted me the night I found her.

The possibilities make my skin crawl. “I have to go, but I have some conditions. He does not place one foot in this house. You are somewhere public. If I can be there, I will be, so give me a heads-up, and I’ll make sure I am.”

My phone buzzes again. I check the clock and it says ten o’clock. “I have to go but call me when you meet with him.”

“You’re a good big brother. I know you beat yourself up, but you were dealt a shit hand, kiddo. You’re doing your best with what you have to work with.”

“I’m not worried about me. If they’re happy, then so am I.”

I run through the house, refusing to look like a pussy for not showing up right at eleven for this gauntlet.

Once in my car, I call Palmer. It rings one time before I’m assaulted with her anger.

“Where the hell have you been all day?” she yells into the receiver. “I’ve been worried.”

“Chill out. I’m on my way now.”

“There’s no time. Dixon sent the address to your GPS. We’ll meet you there,” she explains.

“Where the hell does this asshole have us going?” I ask the obvious question.

“I have no idea. Some park. We’ll be there in thirty. Figured it would work best if we showed up early instead of waltzing you into an ambush, so if you beat us there, wait for us.” The phone goes silent. “Breaker, I mean it. You wait for us.”

“I got it. I’ll see you soon.” I click the button on the steering wheel to end the call.

Searching the GPS, I find the words “DOOMSDAY.” It’s Dixon’s way of making a joke of this gauntlet bullshit. He’s never been on board with this whole thing.

I tap the screen, and the GPS tells me to make a U-turn to go in the direction I came from. The address is plain, no land marker or anything else to go by.

It isn’t until I come to a familiar road that I’m certain Tripp DuPont is truly the bastard I’ve always known he is. Lines of trees blend together, appearing to be a constant sea of green on both sides of the roadway.

Memories of sitting in the back seat of my mom’s car flood my mind. She flips on the radio as loud as she can and sings at the top of her lungs. Therapy, she called it. There’s no greater joy than singing as if no one can hear you, Barrett.

I crank up the radio, knowing that at the end of this road, my worst nightmare will come true. It’s been almost ten years since I’ve been here. This place holds nothing but anger and fear. I shove it in the past, numbing myself like I always do, surviving amidst the chaos.

The trees start to open up, and there she is.

“Do you remember Christmas last year?” my mom asks, sneaking a peek at me in the back seat.

“When it snowed so hard, we couldn’t see out the window?” I guess.

She smiles at me through the rearview mirror. “Yes.”

“I wanted to go outside so bad.”

“And I was too afraid I’d lose you in the snowstorm.”

“But I did go out.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Why’d you let me go?”

“Because your happiness was far more important than my fear.” I may be eight, but I know sadness in someone’s voice.

“That’s nice of you.” I giggle.

“I’m not always going to be that nice, sweetheart.” She eases over to the side of the road, unbuckles, and twists in her seat to look at me. “Sometimes I’m going to put myself before you. When I do, I need you to understand that it doesn’t take away from how much I love you and want the best for you.”

She kisses two of her fingers and reaches forward to press them into my cheek. She spins around and drives forward, until we hit an opening in the monstrous trees.

“The man of the hour!” Tripp yells from the bridge.

Cars are parked on both sides, blocking the non-existent traffic. No one travels over the Hart Bridge, choosing to take the longer route. Too many ghosts haunt this place, sitting above us, watching every person who dares to cross.

I lean against my door, unmoved, completely taken over by some non-existent force keeping me in place. Tripp glares at me, waiting for me to come forward. Car doors close, engines run around me, and here I stand. The crowd starts to grow restless. They aren’t here to see me scared.

This gauntlet has been called to prove a point.

Tripp DuPont is capable of getting inside my head. He’s managed to wrap himself around the worst parts of me.

“We got you.” A warm, soft hand wraps around mine. With no explanation, they all know.

My eyes shift down, running up the arm the hand belongs to and finally land on Palmer’s face.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit. “This will ruin me.”

“You heard her. We’ve got you.” Marek takes up the other side of me. Dixon and Reagan join us. “We’re a family. Your shit is our shit.”

“My mom . . .” I start to say.

“You don’t have to explain anything to us, if you aren’t ready,” Palmer says.

“Let’s go, assholes!” Tripp hollers, earning him the shouts of praise he is constantly seeking. He waves us over impatiently.

“I’m going to cut him from ass to throat if he doesn’t shut the fuck up,” Dixon threatens.

We reach the end