Her Champions: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 3)

by Taylor Blaine

  I really just wanted to figure out what to do and how to survive what was coming down the pipes. I needed a phone so I could get a hold of Gray or Gunner. Mine was gone and I had no hope of getting it back.

  Brock leaned on me as we climbed the cement steps to the well-lit porch. Lights on in the living room glowed out into the night. What time was it anyway? He’d been missing the last time we’d checked on him. Now, what? He was suddenly back in circulation? The situation reeked of Dominick.

  At the top of the stairs, I pounded on the door, glancing around the neighborhood as we waited for someone to open up. Movement inside wasn’t going to be hidden with the thin door and single pane windows.

  “Asher, let us in.” I didn’t know if Gray was inside, but I had a feeling that if she was, we’d already be inside.

  The door creaked open, displaying Coach Asher’s bare chest marked with scratches and some kind of a rug burn on the left side running over his shoulder.

  He blinked blearily at Brock and me, as if we were some kind of image conjured there by magic. Asher leaned on the door, and stared at us. “What can I do for you, guys?”

  “Where’s Gray?” I didn’t wait for him to invite me in. I pushed past him, my shoulder brushing his. I hadn’t realized how soft he’d let himself become. When Gray’s strength had become apparent, I’d assumed she’d gotten it from Coach. The more I got to know the weak man, I couldn’t ignore the fact that Gray could have come from a different father altogether.

  Brock followed me inside, limping but still straight-backed. He’d tripped a couple times as we’d hiked back to town. He’d admitted getting hit in the head when he’d fallen from getting scoured by the rock or whatever had scraped his back so bad.

  Brock sank into the couch nearest him and didn’t say a word as he leaned on the armrest to keep his weight off the wound in his back.

  “I thought Gray was with you? Why don’t you know where she is?” Asher squinted at us, his bloodshot eyes flicking past me to Brock and then over his shoulder as if I was hiding Gray on the street.

  The only thing I was hiding was the fact that I’d gotten free from Dominick. That I’d made it back to Jameson and that I had Brock with me. All of those things were enough to get more attention diverted Gray’s direction. Something I severely didn’t want to happen at the moment.

  “No. She’s not with us. Why isn’t she here and where have you been? You’ve been gone all week.” I glared at Gray’s father. He was nothing like she deserved and that frustrated me. Gray deserved only the best and yet there she was stuck with an inattentive father and a whore for a mother.

  Asher glanced over his own shoulder, turning back to us with wide eyes and a grin. “I’ve been… taking a break.” When he spoke, his breath reeked of stale smoke, alcohol, and the musky scent of marijuana. I’d know that odor anywhere. Hard not to when I had a factory selling the stuff.

  “What kind of a break that you have no idea where your daughter is or what she’s doing?” I folded my arms, more than willing to call someone out for the lack of adult supervision in our lives. It hadn’t escaped me that I hadn’t reached eighteen and yet, I’d done more than most men twice my age. It wasn’t fair, but it was life. Even if I could change it, I’m not sure I would.

  I glanced past him when I caught movement in my peripheral vision. Danielle walked from the bedroom, a button-up shirt secured with one button mid-waist and the globes of her breasts easily seen in the gaps of the material. She wore nothing else.

  Brock didn’t even spare her a glance. We didn’t find our vice principal appealing in the least and the fact that she was controlled by our uncle only deepened her lack of appeal.

  Asher turned as she walked up beside him. He pulled her shirt closed and tugged the hem toward her lap to cover up what he could. He cleared his throat, a red flush working its way up his face. “Honey, you don’t need to be out here. I’ll handle this. It’s just some of Gray’s friends.”

  Danielle slapped his hands away from her and he recoiled, staring at her with eyes opened wide in bewilderment. She turned to face us; her breasts barely concealed by Asher’s actions. Her hair hung down her back and her eyes flashed. “You’re pretty ballsy, Jameson. Why are you here? Your job is to keep her in line.”

  “Wait, you know what he’s talking about?” Alex – hard to think of him as a coach when I could see his failings as a man so blatantly before me – stepped to the side to see Danielle closer. He struggled through the obvious haze of whatever drugs and alcohol he had in his system.

  “Shut up, Alex. You’ll do what I tell you and when.” The vice principal barely acknowledged Asher as she pushed past him and pointed her finger in my face.

  Brock moved from the couch, moving slowly like he struggled to get to the sink. I couldn’t help him move better with Danielle in my face.

  “Stryker, do your job. I don’t want to have to report you to Dominick.” But the curl to her lips promised she couldn’t wait to do exactly that.

  Brock coughed at the sink, shaking his head. “It’s not worth it, man. Let’s get out of here.”

  I nodded, shifting my gaze between Alex, Danielle, and my injured cousin. That house wasn’t the place for answers. The shift in control would be disconcerting for the older man and I didn’t want to be around when he realized he never had any power in the relationship and that Danielle didn’t feel about him the way he thought.

  I ignored Asher’s spluttering as Brock joined me at the doorway. He avoided looking directly at any of us as he ducked out of the house.

  I walked backward down the steps, not taking my eyes off Danielle or Alex. The caution was unnecessary as the door shut on Danielle’s disgusted expression and Alex begging for answers.

  We moved into the shadows under a large willow tree and I slapped my palm on the trunk. “We need to get home.” I could treat Brock there. Plus, it was closer than the factory and there was no danger of running into innocent people like our workers.

  I didn’t want to drag more attention there than absolutely necessary.

  Brock drew in a labored breath, leaning against the tree I’d just assaulted. He closed his eyes and held out his hand, offering me a cell phone. “I just took Asher’s phone. Call Gunner. See if he can come get us. I’m ready to sleep in my own bed.”

  “Wow, you sneaky bastard.” I shook my head, grinning. Taking the stolen phone, I swiped the screen, grateful to find there wasn’t a password. I dialed Gunner’s number. Lifting the phone to my ear, I stared up the street, unseeing the nuances of the night as I waited for Gunner to answer.

  If we could just get back home, we could get everything figured out.

  I could make things right with Gray. Wasn’t that what we all needed? To feel like things were going to be okay?

  ***

  Gray

  A dream of things I wanted Stryker to do to me was rudely interrupted with the buzz of my phone where it had wedged between my side and the mattress.

  Stryker’s mattress.

  I blinked, pulling the phone in front of me and tilting its screen away from my face. The light was way too strong for that late at night or early in the morning. What did three am count as?

  Stryker’s name and number flashed on the screen. I couldn’t help the little leap of excitement in my chest at the sight of his name, even as reality arrived fast on its heels.

  I swiped up on the phone, not saying hello or otherwise offering a salutation. Who was on the other end of the line? I needed to be sure it wasn’t Dominick before speaking.

  Whoever had called me sat on the other end in silence as well. I copied the same, my lips pressed tight together as I stared in the dark toward the ceiling. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer and I whispered, “Are you there? Mom?”

  The silence stretched on another ten seconds before the caller hung up. I pulled the phone back from my ear and stared at the screen until the image of Stryker’s number, his name, and the duration of the call disappear
ed.

  I dropped my phone to my stomach, carefully stretching my legs as the muscles were stiff and unwilling to respond quickly to my commands. How was I ever going to feel normal again?

  A soft knock at the door grabbed my attention. I swung into a sitting position, gripping the edge of the bed in fingers that didn’t want to let go. I shook my thick hair back behind my shoulders and glanced at Gunner with a tight smile. “Hey, did you get some sleep?”

  “Some. Did you want to go with me?” Gunner didn’t move from the doorway as he stared at me. There was an air of urgency in the way he held his weight on one leg and leaned toward the stairs. “Stryker called me.”

  I squinted at Gunner. “Sorry, he called me, too.” Had my mom just been flipping through the numbers on Stryker’s phone? Or maybe it had been a butt-dial. Or maybe it hadn’t been my mom at all. Dominick was a sneaky bastard. Maybe he’d found the phone and he was going to punish my mom for me knowing it was her.

  I had no idea what to expect.

  Gunner shook his head. “No. He called me from your dad’s phone. I need to go get him and Brock. Did you want to come with me or do you want to hold the fort down?”

  I swallowed. Soft light glowed behind Gunner from the stairs. I took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, I want to go.” Was he shitting me? Of course, I wanted to go.

  Following Gunner, I took one last glance at the bedroom behind me. Maybe the next time I saw it, I’d be in Stryker’s arms.

  Chapter 7

  Gray

  My hands shook as I stared out the window. Gunner was a good driver, but we couldn’t seem to go fast enough. He drove five miles above the speed limit no matter which road we were on.

  Gunner didn’t speak and I didn’t force it. He didn’t need to know about what I suspected was happening with Stryker’s phone. He hadn’t asked anyway. Maybe he thought I was joking when I said Stryker had called me. I wasn’t sure. We both seemed to have clammed up, holding ourselves in silence as the car catapulted through the dark streets.

  When he turned into my neighborhood, I reached out and gripped the armrest of the door. Why were we on my street?

  “Are you taking me back to my place or something?” I swallowed at the tightness in my throat. Why else would we be down there? I didn’t want to go back. I had no idea what waited for me there and I wanted to see Stryker.

  Before pulling into the drive at my place where the lights were on, Gunner stopped the borrowed sedan under trees that protected the front yard of a home where the residents were rarely there.

  Two silhouettes emerged from the darkest shadows, moving toward the car like they had no other choice with their hunched shoulders and one limping in obvious pain.

  The two walked into the beam of headlights from the vehicle. My gasp covered Gunner’s as they moved into further into the light.

  Jumping from the passenger side door, I rushed Stryker, patting him down as soon as I was in reach. “Stryker, holy hell, are you okay? Why didn’t Dominick drop you at your grandmother’s? He said he would. What happened?” I knew he’d somehow gotten away; I just wasn’t ready to talk about the connection with Stryker’s errant cellphone.

  How would I be able to explain the fact that I’d called it again and I’d received another call back? I couldn’t. Not yet. I wasn’t sure what the calls even meant.

  Stryker shook his head while staring in the direction of the ground. He reached out, wrapping his fingers gently around the base of my neck and resting his palm on my inner shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. We can talk when we’re safe.”

  His words made me jerk around, searching the dilapidated neighborhood for something more ominous than shadows and lights.

  The porch lights on the rental I shared with my dad glowed dimly, like they’d somehow been working all day and were close to giving out.

  “Your dad is fine. He’s there. But… Danielle is with him.” Stryker’s rough whisper divulged more than I wanted to hear.

  Danielle was there. She’d insinuated herself into my family, taking steps she thought she had the right to. What Sara had warned me about was more of a possibility than I’d wanted to accept. Maybe Dad had been having an affair and that’s why Mom had left. That was still easier to accept than my mom being done with me.

  I nodded tightly, following behind Stryker as he worked his way to the backdoor of the sedan. Gunner helped Brock into the opposite side, glancing my way as he shut the door.

  Stryker watched us, his eyes hooded and dark, taking in what he could, blocking what he couldn’t.

  I nodded gently at Gunner, as if giving him permission to get us out of there and letting him know we’d gotten his cousins back. Albeit through no effort on our part, at least they were back with us.

  In the car, Gunner shifted into park and I half-turned in my seat, staring at Stryker behind me. “Are you okay? Are you guys bleeding or anything?”

  Stryker avoided looking at me, but jerked his head toward Brock. “He’s got a pretty bad gash in his back. Maybe a concussion. Are we going back to the bunker?” He kept it fairly polite, as if speaking to a stranger and not someone he’d felt up on a twin bed.

  I blinked at his formal tone and glanced at Gunner with questions in my eyes.

  Gunner met Stryker’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “No. Dominick found us at the mines. He isn’t aware of the bunker itself, but I’m sure he suspects something is going on out there. We’re staying at the house for now.”

  Stryker nodded, looking out the window to his right without looking directly at me.

  My chest rose and fell with more questions than I could handle. Again? We were back to the insecurities again? What games was he playing now? I was close to losing my shit in more ways than one.

  We drove the few miles to their grandmother’s house in silence, exhausted from the events of the last few weeks. I held my arms folded across my chest as I forced myself to breathe normally.

  Gunner parked the car in the back again and he helped Brock from the back seat. I watched helplessly as he led his cousin inside.

  Stryker climbed from the car like he was sore and tired and just wanted to move slow enough to not hurt anything but fast enough to get where he needed to be in a timely manner.

  He shut the door and walked past me sitting in the front seat. I stared after him and then shoved the door open, giving into my frustrated confusion. Slamming the door, I called after him. “Stryker, what’s going on?” Did he hear the longing in my voice? I couldn’t hide my shame at chasing him for attention. I couldn’t hide my shame at any of it.

  He stopped at the bottom of the steps leading to the porch. The way he turned reminded me of a slow-motion replay picture. I licked my lips, watching his eyes narrow while he gazed at me. He softly shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I half-stepped forward, lifting my hand and letting it drop back to my side. “Is it about Gunner? Are you jealous again?” I couldn’t contain my frustration. Was he seriously going to get upset any time I looked at his cousins? I wasn’t interested in Gunner. Hadn’t I made that obvious?

  He stared at me and shook his head ever so slowly. “No. This has nothing to do with my cousin. I’m not jealous of him. I can’t be.”

  I drew back as if he’d slapped me. What was he saying? He didn’t like me enough to be jealous of another guy with me? I blinked, certain the heat gathering in my eyes was because I was tired and hormonal. No way another girl could handle what I’d been through without crying from exhaustion. No way. I had to give myself some leeway. A little bit of stress management never hurt anyone.

  As if he could see my thoughts as they ran through my mind, Stryker turned back and strode toward me, cutting the distance between us like butter.

  I refused to back up. I had nothing to be afraid of. I hadn’t done or said anything wrong. He was the one acting like an ass. I lifted my chin for good measure. He wasn’t going to intimidate me.

  He stopped when his chest almost m
et mine and he stared down into my face. “It’s not that I don’t care. If anything, it’s the opposite. I just…” He lifted his hand and trailed a finger down the side of my face and then down to my neck where he rested his fingertip on my collarbone.

  All of my awareness seemed centered on that one point of contact. I stared at him; my eyes wide. Okay, now I was intimidated.

  “Then why can’t you be jealous of Gunner?” I could barely ask. My breath felt suspended in time. What if I moved or spoke too loudly? Would he break the contact?

  I could see my breath in front of my face, but I didn’t register the cold so much on my skin as much as something that was a point of reference for the heat coming from his finger.

  “Because he doesn’t make you feel like this.” His answer was breathy and soft, almost as if he, too, didn’t want to risk breaking the fragile bond we had between us.

  Our breath mingled in a silvery fog. I couldn’t look away from the deep titanium of his gaze. “You don’t know how you make me feel.” I had to preserve some semblance of my pride.

  He flattened his palm against the skin above my collar and lowered his gaze as he watched his fingers splay across my skin. His pupils dilated as he stared at our touching flesh. “You’re feeling what I’m feeling. Don’t deny it.” He snapped his eyes to mine. “You can’t deny this.”

  This. Even he couldn’t define whatever connection there was between us. I didn’t try to deny it, even though I couldn’t give it a name. I wanted to. I wanted to call it out so I could cut away the parts that controlled me, but I couldn’t. It was too hard to face when it made me feel so weak.

  “Say it, Gray.” He reached his other hand behind me and wrapped his hand in my long hair, tugging my head back. His face hovered over mine and he challenged me with chiseled lips I had discovered were both satin-covered steel and pliable molten lava. His thighs pushed toward mine, adding more heat to the already molten moment.