Her Challengers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 1)

by Taylor Blaine

  Bad Boys of Jameson High

  Her Challengers

  Book 1

  Taylor Blaine

  Her Challengers

  I’m just a girl. That’s all anyone sees. Frail like a flower.

  They want to crush me. Destroy my dreams. Trample who I am.

  But they don’t see my strength. They don’t know the anger and pride bucking to get out.

  When the three Jameson cousins come after me, they’re expecting an easy conquer. What they get will flip their world upside down.

  I won’t accept a challenge sitting down.

  Chapter 1

  Gray

  The 1969 Chevy pickup rumbled down the dirt road, kicking up mud flecks as it hit puddles. Wipers squeaked across the old windshield in a vain attempt to keep the torrential rain from blocking the views.

  I winced as the truck hit another bump. How many times had I taken potshots to my ribs in practice the last few days? The guys I trained with didn’t care that I was a girl or the coach’s daughter. All they cared about was getting their drills in and their time on the canvas. Dad didn’t know about my private time on the mats and I wasn’t about to tell him. I endured the bumps with my teeth clenched. Since we had moved, though, those would be coming to an end.

  Wasn’t time in the ring what we all wanted?

  “Listen. We can’t have you trying out for the team until I have a better lay of the land. I’ll know more about what they’re open to once I’ve gotten to know the team.” Alex, my hapless and not-so-commanding father, glanced at me from his spot at the wheel.

  Of course, he’d waited until we were almost to the school to drop that bomb on me. He was hoping I wouldn’t want to cause a scene or be late, both of which were very strong possibilities.

  Something Dad never took into account when he thought of me was the fact that I wasn’t the type of girl to sit around and wait for others to decide my life for me. If he wouldn’t get me a tryout for the team, I’d get my own. Even if I had to walk through the boys’ locker room naked.

  That would be one way to get noticed.

  I didn’t reply to his unspoken question. My mom had left a couple years ago and sometimes, I didn’t blame her. Other times, I couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid. Dad wasn’t a bad guy. He just lacked that masculine trait of taking control. He went along with whatever Mom wanted while she’d been around. He was what my older cousin called milk toast.

  Milk toast. Where I came from, we called him whipped. I never wanted to feel that way about anyone. Not when you lost your ability to think for yourself.

  “Promise you’ll try to fit in today? Please, Gray.” My dad’s tone turned pleading and I wanted to scream.

  Instead, I ground my teeth together, taking a deep breath. “I don’t want to fit in.” Fitting in for me was hard. I wasn’t the type of girl who looked for a group to mold into. I wasn’t exactly girly or gossipy or whatever else you needed to be to fit in. I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to do with a group of girls unless it involved walking together to the bathroom. That’s all those stupid females seemed to do together, that and giggling like idiots.

  “You did well with Sara. I don’t know why you can’t do that here.” Dad sighed like his goal in life was to fog up the window beside him. He flipped on the blinker and braked as he paused at a stop sign.

  He’d brought up one of the reasons I hadn’t wanted to leave Timbercreek. “Sara is… different.” She wasn’t one of the girls. She wasn’t out to screw me over. She had my back and how dare he compare her to other girls?

  Staring out the window, I chewed on my inner cheek. North Idaho lacked nothing in beauty with so many shades of green everywhere. We’d moved from Timbercreek, just across the state line in Washington State, to Jameson in Idaho. Not more than forty-five minutes or so from our old place.

  Little consolation when I didn’t want to be there.

  Tall pines stretched into the sky on the edges of the roads, lining the path to the old brick buildings clumped together to make up the high school campus. A tall, broad brown sign proudly declared we’d arrived at the Jameson High School.

  Yay.

  My father parked the old truck in the still fairly empty parking lot. He shifted into park and rested his hands on the lower curve of the steering wheel as he stared at the building with its sharp angles and flat roof. “You don’t need to hate me, you know? It’s not my fault I was fired.”

  Nothing was his fault. My mom left – not his fault. The power was turned off – not his fault. He had to sell all of our things to pay for food – not his fault. He lost his job – not his fault. He’d even taken my phone that morning – maybe that wasn’t his fault either.

  I gripped the strap on my backpack and tugged it higher up my shoulder as I, too, stared at the new prison I would be forced to attend. At least at Timbercreek I was accepted on the team I’d been on – kind of.

  “Gray, I… I’m sorry.” He lifted his hand as if to motion and speak in a lecture form.

  I shook my head and blinked fast, unwilling to go anywhere near a drawn-out conversation with Dad. “Forget it. I need to get in there and get registered. I’ll meet you after practice.” Cracking the door open, I slid from the loose-spring seat.

  A flashy red convertible parked on the far side of the lot. A convertible with rain? What an idiot. The inland northwest wasn’t known for sunny days. The owner of the car probably dropped the top once or twice a year. We had longer winters than anything else.

  Two blonde girls bounced from the front doors of the car, flipping their long gold hair over their shoulders. From that distance, they looked identical, but it was a good enough distance, I could be wrong.

  Sharp laughter reached me across the lot as I walked toward the front doors of the school. I could feel my muscles moving as I walked. I relished every step.

  My black Converse with white soles splashed into an inch-deep puddle and I didn’t flinch. I didn’t care if I got wet. There was no shame in having wet jeans when a hole was torn out of the knees.

  A screechy voice reached me through the pummeling rain. “You’re so fat, Chris. How did you get so fat? It’s disgusting.”

  The words and tones drew my attention. I stopped my long stride toward the double front doors and glanced around. The twin blondes – I could clearly see they were identical from only twenty yards away – held a bright red umbrella over them as they stared at a kid about our age only a few feet in front of them. The girls prevented him from getting inside and out of the rain.

  Glasses speckled with rain drops, the boy hiked his worn sweatpants up his hips and then pushed at the bridge of his nose to readjust his glasses. Bright pink spots in his cheeks gave away his humiliation.

  Rage that always hovered just under my skin bubbled forward and I turned, blinking through the rain I hadn’t bothered protecting myself from. I hadn’t even worn a hoodie in a desperate attempt to give the finger to the weather. I was sick of rain and cold.

  Heat flushed my skin and I no longer recognized the chill in the air.

  I approached the trio standing on the pitted sidewalk along the perimeter around the yard. I was fully aware of my appearance. My long silky brown hair framed my pixie-like face and large blue eyes. I wasn’t tall and I weighed a buck-thirty on a bloated day. They would see my simple clothing and my calm movements and have no idea I was about to lose it.

  “Hey, can you point me toward the office?” I blinked dumbly toward the girls as if I hadn’t just turned back from the build
ing where I was clearly headed toward the main office. The closer I got to the twins, the more I realized just how identical they were.

  Dark pink lip gloss made their lower lips appear fuller while black mascara gave their makeup a distinctly unnatural feel. They shifted their eyes my direction, giving Chris a brief reprieve. Something sparked in the twin with gold earrings. Interesting. She wore gold while the other wore silver. Could there be a dominance thing going on with them?

  The second they realized I was a new girl was the second the target shifted from Chris to me. I indolently shifted my weight to rest on one hip while I cocked my head to the side, eyeing the girls as if they knew everything.

  They looked at each other, snide smirks twisting their beautiful features into masks of ugliness. I suddenly wished I had my phone out of the backpack so I could take a picture and show them how ugly they looked.

  “You new?” The obvious question didn’t make them seem smarter. The one with the gold earrings stepped toward me while the one with the silver earrings shuffled forward to hold the umbrella over her sister.

  “Wow, they grow them smart over here, huh?” I wrinkled my nose like I was making a friendly joke. Tilting my head toward the still hanging around Chris, I winked at the sisters and motioned toward their umbrella. “Don’t let that slip. You know what happens when you get wet.”

  The girls paused, narrowing their eyes. The one with the gold earrings pursed her lips. “If I were you, I’d be careful. We run this school. You’ll be shunned before you even get through the doors.” She glanced at her sister with a smug grin, folding her arms across her chest as she settled into position.

  Curling my fingertips into my palms, I stepped closer to the blonde, keeping my breathing calm and collected. Once I was no more than eight inches from her, I stopped. Her eyes widened and the smirk smoothed from her overly glossed lips. To give her credit, she didn’t back up, but her knuckles whitened as she dug her fingers into her arms.

  Keeping my voice low, I bit my words out with crisp intent. “Don’t threaten me again, Blondie. Stay out of my way or the next time we meet, you’ll be picking those pretty white teeth up off the floor.” I arched an eyebrow as if to ask if she understood, ignoring her sister’s gasp.

  We were locked in some kind of challenge as we stared each other down. I wasn’t taller than her, but I could feel my muscles ticking and clenching as I stood there. She didn’t stand a chance with her skinny arms and loose-limbed stance. She’d never be a match.

  I had balanced my weight evenly between my feet, spread as they needed to be in case of attack. Even though the stupid girls standing in front of me didn’t appear to be challenging, I had no doubt that the second I lowered my guard in over-confidence, I’d get dropped. That was one of the biggest lessons I’d learned training with my dad.

  Never drop your guard.

  Blondie’s gaze flickered and she glanced to my right, away from me and the boy she’d been picking on. Her eyes settled somewhere and the discomfort in her stance seemed to slide off her body. Her initial fear faded, to be replaced with even more disdain as she looked back to me, jutting out her chin. “Now you’re going to get it.”

  Unfazed, I took the bait and glanced in the direction that had given her a complete confidence boost. I refused to react to what I saw.

  Maybe it was the rain or the purity in the air, but I couldn’t help gasping, albeit minutely as I blinked at the sight off to the right of me. Three men, they had to be men with those muscles, strode with a swagger I’d never seen before from a large black 1957 Ford truck. The chrome alone reflected what little light there was and bounced it back to the lot.

  The man in front held his hard jawline at an angle, his eyes narrowed beneath a black baseball cap. His shoulders stretched the material of his t-shirt and he hadn’t bothered with protecting himself from the weather either. Dark, almost black, hair hung across his forehead, the tips spiked down into silver eyes. He didn’t seem to care – about anything.

  Another man to his right and slightly behind him strode forward in sync, his auburn hair a contrast to the dark strands of the man in front. Green eyes blazed as he took in the scene, his similarly strong jaw clenching. He walked with a loose swing to his arms, his swagger just as domineering as the front man’s but with a more languid pull.

  The third stopped behind the other two as they came to a pause and took in the scene of me with the girls. His blond hair probably lighter when it wasn’t wet and his brown eyes taking in the details with bias. He had a lankier build than the other two, but no less definition in his neck and arm muscles that I could see.

  That amount of muscles on three men had to mean steroids. There was no way they were worked that hard in the backwoods high school my dad was making me attend. There was even less of a chance that they went to high school. Maybe they were visiting from college or something. Muscles like that didn’t belong in the halls of anything elementary or ordinary like Jameson High.

  I couldn’t help thinking, also, that muscles like that needed to be savored. I gritted my teeth at my faithless thoughts and shifted my eyes from studying the newcomers. If I expected Blaze and I to be able to make it, I had to do a better job of not looking at other guys. No matter how delicious or dangerous their frames appeared.

  Honesty would have to come first at some point because I wasn’t even sure Blaze was who I wanted to be with anyway.

  The three men had no idea what was going on, yet they stood there with judgment on their faces. I wasn’t going to be judged by anyone – at least not while I was doing something good. Sticking up for others wasn’t an option. It had to be done.

  “Jasmine, what’s going on?” The one with auburn hair spoke, the cadence of his words brooking no argument. He shifted his gaze from assessing me to the blonde twin with the gold earrings. Jasmine, huh? She really was a princess.

  I wasn’t a fan.

  Victory in her eyes, Jasmine smiled pitifully at the trio and gave an almost whimper. “She just showed up while we were talking to Chris and then she threatened me.” She stepped toward the front man, careful to make sure her sister followed with the umbrella. Once she stood in front of him, she turned to look over her shoulder as she ran her fingertips up his chest and placed her palm on his chest. “I’m so glad you’re here, Stryker.”

  Stryker, huh? His name was as hot as he was. Not that I was thinking about him like that. Or even thinking of him.

  The possessive way she touched him left a tightening in my gut. I didn’t want to see that he was with the wench. She didn’t deserve anyone who looked like that with his brooding eyes and tight forearms. On the other hand, a guy that would go for a girl like her probably wasn’t what I needed to be interested in, anyway. He’d be after her for what was between her legs rather than company. Who could want to be with the witch for any other reason?

  The blond guy shifted his gaze my way. “Is this true?” His eyes perused me with curiosity and none-too-little interest as he surveyed my form, his gaze pausing at my chest that was most assuredly featured in the rain and cold in a wet t-shirt contest kind of way. He lifted his gaze to my face, a knowing smile curving his lips with confidence.

  I didn’t back down. I wouldn’t. Even with all of their muscles, they wouldn’t intimidate me. I wouldn’t allow it. Plus, they were probably basketball jocks or soccer. I had nothing to worry about. I could take them, even if they were bigger. It wasn’t your size that won a fight. It was the skill with which you delivered your punches.

  Slowly, I allowed my gaze to travel the length of them, making sure they knew what I saw as I allowed disgust to knit my eyebrows. “What if it is?” It wasn’t. There’s no way I was going to defend myself. I didn’t care who they were or what they wanted, but I wouldn’t dare defend myself to anyone. I didn’t answer to them and they had no right expecting me to. The blond man shifted, an energy coming off him as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  For a brief moment I imag
ined reaching out and slamming an uppercut into the unnamed twin’s jaw, snapping her head back and knocking her to the ground. Or even more satisfying would be Jasmine’s head snapping to the side as I delivered a hook. I could see each move in my head and my stomach tightened as adrenaline coursed through me.

  My gaze met Stryker’s and I inhaled sharply but quietly at the heat in his eyes as he studied me and ignored the blonde fondling his chest.

  I had a boyfriend. I couldn’t like the way the trio studied me. I couldn’t care about what they thought. I didn’t want to care about what anyone thought. What type of a girl was I, that I had moved away from home no more than an hour away and already I was replacing Blaze in my mind’s eye? I wasn’t that kind of a girl. And I certainly didn’t owe these people an explanation.

  Rather than wait for them to pass their final judgment, I turned away, glancing at Chris and tossing him a half-smile and rolling my eyes. As I passed him, I nodded. “Nice to meet you, Chris.” I ignored the five behind me as I reclaimed my path toward the building.

  I could feel Stryker’s eyes on me. All of their eyes on me. What would they have done, if I’d thrown a punch at one of the girls, or better yet, at one of them? I was close. So close. They had no idea just what I could have done or will do if I see the bullying again.

  Nothing I hated more than a bully.

  Chapter 2

  Stryker

  I shoved Jasmine’s hand from my chest. “I told you. We’re not together.” If she didn’t stop touching me, I’d toss her across the parking lot. The girl was into some kinky stuff, and while I had fun with her once a long time ago, so did half of Jameson High and probably some of Timbercreek. I wasn’t into sharing and I’d be hanged before I’d touch something that used.

  She pulled back, slamming her hand on her hip as she narrowed her eyes at me. “Why don’t you want me anymore, Stryker? Jaeda and I could do things to you that would blow your mind.” Her voice had a soft whine and it only irritated me more.