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Wicked Devil: An Enemies to Lovers, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 1)

Page 15

by Daniela Romero


  “No way.” Roman shakes his head. “You can’t show up alone. All three of us will be on the field. We won’t be able to protect you.”

  “I don’t need protection—”

  “I can go with you,” Kasey says. All eyes swing toward her.

  “Are you sure?” I ask. “You hate football.” I know because she’s whined on at least four separate occasions about how boring it is and how stupid it is that the school treats the players like gods. Kasey isn’t fond of athletes in general, which has made her little addition to our group pretty interesting, to say the least.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I like hanging out with you. Besides”—the corner of her mouth lifts into a smirk as she turns her attention toward Dominique—“then I can watch him throw an interception and give him shit for it.”

  Dom glowers and our entire table erupts into a fit of laughter.

  “Not fucking likely,” he deadpans.

  I don’t know what’s going on with those two. Likely nothing because Dom will be eighteen in a few short months and Kasey’s only a freshman, but she seems intent on getting under his skin any chance she gets, despite the fact that he usually ignores her.

  The bell rings signaling the end of lunch and we make our way out of the cafeteria. Roman stops me just outside my third-period class and plants a lingering kiss on my lips that leaves me breathless.

  “Don’t be late tonight,” he tells me, nipping my lower lip.

  “Are you suddenly worried I won’t show up?” I ask, fingering my bracelet.

  He smirks. “Nah, I know you’ll be there, but it never hurts to have some reassurances.”

  I tug my bracelet off and take his hand in mine, trying it around his wrist. “Consider yourself reassured. This is important to me. You can give it back to me after the game.”

  He kisses me deep and slow, leaving me breathless before walking backward toward his own class. “Later, baby.”

  Roman

  Friday night came too fucking fast. I’m sitting in the locker room and can barely hear what coach is saying as he gives his little pep talk before we rush out onto the field. I tighten my laces, my gaze meeting Dom’s. We nod, both ready to lay it all out on the field. Tonight’s a big night. If we win, it’ll be smooth sailing from here on out. Coach drones on and on about how proud he is of each of us. How we’ve played an incredible season. And then he yells at us not to fuck it up.

  Emilio elbows me in the ribs, a grin on his face as he sucks on a palerindas—a tamarind-flavored sucker—his game day ritual. Personally, I can’t stand the things, but Emilio’s an addict and always has a few in his bag.

  I bounce my leg, waiting for coach to hurry up so we can get out on the field. Tonight the Devils play the Saints and I’m determined put those fuckers through hell.

  The stadium lights light up the field and hundreds of people in the bleachers as I jog beside my team. I scan the crowd, not seeing Allie yet, but I know she’ll be here. Seats are packed, everyone on the home side decked out in red and black with devil horns on their heads.

  I make sure Allie’s bracelet is tucked beneath my glove before following the other guys to the center of the field. Dom is our captain and quarterback and all eyes are on him as we huddle up and run through the details of our first play.

  I’m hyped as fuck and bouncing on the balls of my feet, ready to leave the Saint’s defense in a cloud of dust. One last scan of the bleachers shows that Allie still isn’t here, but I shake off the irritation as soon as I spot my pops in the stands. I puff out my chest and when Dom calls the play and snaps back, I’m off. I sprint wide to the left, before spinning to catch the ball I know is aimed right for me. My hands connect with the laces and I clutch the damn thing like my life depends on it before taking off straight for the goal posts.

  I’m tackled twenty yards from the end zone but I'm still grinning because we picked up way more ground on the first play than we should have. Looks like the Saints are going to have an off day.

  It’s the end of the second quarter and we’re ahead by seven. The stadium is packed, making it harder to find my girl, but as I take my seat on the bench, Dominique points out Henderson’s little sister. “Baby Henderson’s here. That means Allie is, too.”

  I nod, scanning the surrounding crowd for her dark brown hair. The spot beside Kasey is vacant. Maybe Allie went to the restroom? The idea alone is enough to have me clenching my hands into tight fists. “Yeah, but do you see her?”

  He looks and shakes his head. “No.”

  “Me, either. Which means she’s off somewhere at this packed fucking game alone right now.”

  “Maybe she just went to grab a soda?”

  “I don’t care if she needed to take a shit. She knows the deal. She’s not supposed to go anywhere at this school alone.”

  He nods, a scowl on his face letting me know he doesn’t like this any more than I do, but there isn’t anything either of us can do about it from the field. Coach calls us back to the locker room for our half-time pep talk and I have no choice but to follow the rest of the guys.

  When we return for the beginning of the third, the seat beside Kasey is still fucking empty. Worry worms through me, followed quickly by anger when I catch my pops getting up from the stands, his phone to his ear because of course he can’t leave work at the office.

  I'm tracking his movements as he leaves through the gate entrance and miss Dom’s words as he calls out the play before the snap. Fuck. I take off, hoping I’m heading in the right direction. When Dom throws, I realize I’m way the fuck off and have to kick it into gear to reach his intended mark. My fingers glance across the ball but I fumble the catch. Thankfully, one of my teammates is close by to recover it. I kick at the field, unearthing a chunk of grass as I curse and head back to the start-up line.

  The rest of the game goes similarly, but I’m not the only one affected now. It’s like everything went to shit the second half. Dom throws an interception and we miss two field goals that we should have had in the bag. Emilio lets two running backs slip past him, allowing the Saints to score. We’re still in the lead but we’re down to the wire and if we don’t score, there’s a good chance the Saints will on their next play and we’ll lose. There isn’t enough time on the clock. I have to score.

  I know the play. I’ve done this maneuver a million times before, so I focus on my breathing, narrowing my field of vision as I zero in on where I need to be and how to get there as quickly as possible. My pops never returned after stepping out and I still haven’t caught sight of my girl. Focusing all of my anger and frustration into our last play I sprint up the field, adrenaline rushing through my veins. My hands find the ball and then I’m running up the field, racing along the boundary line.

  Two players are hot on my heels and I have no one from my own team anywhere close to help. One of the assholes—number eleven—is gaining on me, but with the ball tucked under my right arm I shove out with my left, shoving him away and then TOUCHDOWN!

  My team rushes me. Helmets knock into mine and fists knock me in the shoulder. There’s less than two minutes on the clock and the other team has no time-outs left. I cheer with my team. We won. We’ll run out the clock, but my job here is done.

  I’m riding a high and smiling like an idiot until I look back up at the stands.

  Kasey’s nowhere to be found now, and neither is Allie.

  My smile tightens. And I turn back to the guys, accepting their good-natured high-fives and shouts of congratulations, all the while thinking in my head, where the fuck is she?

  Allie

  I’m running late getting to the game. Kasey was going to meet me at my place and we’d drive over together but something came up with her aunt, so she sent a text letting me know she’d have to meet me at the school.

  I call an Uber and get the oldest grandma in the history of Uber drivers who happens to drive five miles an hour below the speed limit the entire way, but I get there just as the first quarter ends and make my way ov
er to the bleachers where Kasey said she’d be.

  “Hey. Sorry I’m late.” I claim the empty seat beside her.

  “Damn, Allie. Looking good,” she says, taking in my painted stomach. I blush. It hadn’t been planned, but I knew that some of the girls painted their boyfriend's or favorite player's number on their midriff, so I painted Roman’s—a number four—and a small red devil on my abdomen.

  “Thanks. Think he’ll like it?”

  Her brows wiggle. “I think he’ll love it.” She smirks, then winks. “Also, don’t hate me, but I might have to leave early.”

  Oh. I look around, instantly realizing I don't have anyone else to hang out with here if she leaves, but I promised the guys I’d be here so I can’t very well bail.

  “My aunt is running short-staffed at the diner,” she tells me. “I don’t usually work there but she’s in a bind. That’s why I was late. I filled in after school for one of the girls who was a no-show. I can stay for most of the game, but I’ll need to leave before the end of the fourth so I can get there before the football crowd shows up.”

  “Oh. That’s totally fine.” It’s great, actually. I won’t be alone the whole game. Just for part of the fourth. No big deal.

  I look out on the field and instantly find Roman—number four. My heart quickens and I watch him run up the field, scoring for the Sun Valley Devils. The entire stadium cheers, including me. I jump up and down like a moron screaming his name in the hopes he’ll see me.

  “Oh, and here. I brought us these to make the game more interesting.” Kasey opens her purse to show me the stash of mini booze bottles tucked away inside.

  “You snuck alcohol into a school game?”

  She grins. “How else was I supposed to get through this game?” Pulling two out, she hands one to me. A mini Malibu rum. I roll my eyes but accept it. “To Dominique throwing an interception.”

  “I can’t toast to that.”

  She shrugs. “I can. You can toast to Roman scoring the winning touchdown.”

  I laugh but concede. “Okay. I'll toast to that.” Cracking the cap, I take a drink, downing half of the rum in one swallow before tucking the bottle into my pocket. “That’s kind of awful,” I tell her.

  “I know, but it was all I could find on short notice. Aaron keeps a stash of these in the bottom drawer of his dresser.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. I look down and recognize Julio’s number flashing across the screen and smile.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey—” His words are hard to hear through the thundering noise of the crowd.

  “Give me a second to get somewhere quiet,” I shout into the phone. “I’ll be back. I need to take this,” I tell Kasey. She waves me off, her attention focused on her own phone as her fingers fly over the keyboard. Standing, I make my way through the stands, slipping through the bleachers and heading for the parking lot gate.

  The half-time show is starting up and everyone is on their feet dancing to whatever song the cheer squad has going on.

  “Excuse me. Sorry.” I brush past a group of parents and finally make it outside the gate. It’s still loud out here but the noise level is no longer deafening.

  “Sorry about that. How are you?” I ask as I stride further across the darkened lot toward the corner of the school. The lights barely illuminate the space but it’s still hard to hear Julio over the crowd so I resign myself to a phone call in the dark.

  “I’m good. Now, tell me about this guy you mentioned you’re seeing.”

  I laugh, hearing the protective tone in his voice. “Chill with the big brother vibes. Nothing serious is going on.”

  He snorts. “Allie, you don’t date. Ryker was the exception and we saw how that went.”

  I groan. “Please don’t remind me.” If I could forget ever being with Ryker, that’d be the day.

  “I’m serious, though. Is he good to you?”

  A smile spreads over my face as I think about Roman. He’s still an asshole to everyone else in this school but in the small pockets of time we happen to get alone, he’s different. Still cocky and possessive but also kind, thoughtful, and surprisingly funny. Just thinking about this past week we’ve had together is enough to make butterflies dance in my stomach.

  “Yeah, Julio. He is. I don’t know what it is about him but…” I trail off and narrow my eyes in the dark as I spot two men ten yards away from me. They’re not doing anything, just standing there watching me, but still … goosebumps spread across my skin.

  “You still there?” Julio asks.

  “Ye…Yeah. I’m here. Sorry, umm, what was I saying?” I turn away from the men and head back across the parking lot, finally realizing I'd pulled myself away from the safety of the crowd. Everything looks different now. Darker, more sinister. My heart races in my chest and I can barely make out Julio’s words as panic bubbles inside me.

  I scan the lot and see Silvia across the parking lot, but there’s no way I’m going to her for safety. I’m not that stupid. I don’t see anyone else close by, though. I chance a look behind my shoulder and just as I turn, my phone is snatched from my fingertips. The call is ended and my phone is tossed carelessly to the ground. “Hey!”

  The man who took it grabs me by the throat and slams me against the brick wall of the school. My head slams against the hard surface and my vision blurs, a strangled cry pouring from my lips.

  “This her?” Another voice asks.

  A grunt. “Yeah. It’s her.”

  The man holding my throat whirls me around, one arm bands beneath my chest, pinning my arms to my sides while the other one grips my throat. He shoves me forward. “Come on, we’ll take her over here.”

  I try to scream but all I can muster is a wheezing sound. I spot Silvia across the lot again. Her face is trained away from me and I’m silently begging her to look my way. To see what’s happening right now. But she never turns, her gaze caught on something or someone else.

  I try to cry out again, shouting her name but nothing comes out. My head is pounding and I squirm against his hold but he has me in a vice-like grip. My vision clears and I can see that he’s leading me further from the parking lot into a more remote area where the lights don’t reach. My stomach drops.

  I fight harder, kicking out with my legs, and when that doesn’t work I drop my weight, but he still doesn’t release me.

  “Girl’s got some fight in her,” the second man says. I twist to see him but all I can make out is a dark shadow.

  The man holding me grunts and his grip on my throat tightens to the point that I know it’ll leave a bruise. Spots form in my field of vision and I claw at his fingers, desperate for air. “Just means this’ll be more fun.” His hot breath heats the side of my neck and I recoil. What does he mean, more fun? What are they planning to do to me?

  Tears track down my cheeks, but I’m not resigned to my fate. Not yet. I try kicking again and this time I manage to hit his knee.

  The man holding me curses and the hand around my throat loosens enough that I can finally suck in a deep breath.

  I make it count and scream with everything in me. “Help! Somebody help me!”

  The fist comes out of nowhere. A crack along my cheek that leaves me reeling.

  “Dumb bitch.” He releases me and I crash to the ground, my hands meeting cool grass. I choke on a sob and reach up with a shaking hand to cradle my cheek.

  The men don’t give me any time to recover. I’m shoved face first down in the cool, wet grass, my injured cheek pressed hard against the ground. I cry out again but it’s cut off when his hand comes up to cover my mouth. “You’re going to be nice and quiet if you want to leave here alive,” he spits at me. The threat in his voice settles deep in my bones, freezing me in place.

  “Please—”

  “That’s it. Beg for it.”

  I try to shake my head but I can’t move. His weight has me pinned in place. “Please.” I hiccup. “Don’t do this.”

  He releases my throat a
nd leans back. His legs straddle my own and his other hand shoves beneath me to release the button of my jeans. This can’t be happening. I struggle against his hold, squirming and kicking, but he’s just so much bigger than me. My struggles make little difference. Deciding I have no other choice, I scream again. “Help. Som—”

  Crack!

  He grabs the back of my head and slams my face into the ground. Hard. Pain lances through me and sheer terror rips my insides apart.

  “I won’t tell you again. Shut the fuck up,” he growls just before tugging my jeans and underwear down, exposing my bare rear to the cold night air.

  Panic tightens my throat, but I manage to say, “Why are you doing this?” in a choked-out sob. My head is throbbing and black is quickly filling my field of vision, but I fight to stay awake and aware. I can’t black out. I refuse to pass out and be at their mercy.

  The other man is chuckling beside us. “This is a message for dear old dad.” Ice freezes in my veins. “We want to make sure he knows that when he fucks with what’s ours, we’ll fuck with what’s his.”

  What? I struggle to comprehend what he’s telling me, but as soon as I feel the other man press himself against my naked rear, my mind blanks.

  No. No. No.

  One hand pins me down, the other is beside my face as he braces himself against me. I hear the sound of a foil wrapper being torn open followed by more chuckles.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes and I struggle to breathe over the mounting pain in my chest. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I repeat the words over and over again in my head but it doesn’t make them true.

  A sharp intrusion makes my stomach lurch. I gasp and without realizing what I’m even saying, I beg him to stop. To let me go. I promise him anything and everything I can think of if he will just let me go. He doesn’t. Fighting doesn’t do anything but make him rougher. He grips me tighter, his hand bruising as he grabs my hips and forces his way inside of me. The other man presses his boot to the side of my face, holding me down.

 

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