Jaeda and Jasmine were notably absent for the second day in a row. Were they sick together, too?
My whole body perked up as Stryker, Gunner, and Brock strode into the gym and approached my dad. I couldn’t hear what they said, but two minutes passed while they talked earnestly. Dad finally nodded and looked back to his clipboard.
I furrowed my brow and tried not to look like I was staring. Stryker glanced my way, his lips curving in a knowing smile that was nothing if not mocking, like he knew I watched him. The smile only amped up my awareness.
Maybe there was something about the cocky jerk I liked – even though he was nothing but a huge douche to me. Or maybe I considered him a challenge. I don’t know and I honestly didn’t care. I needed to get him out of my system. As soon as possible.
Gunner and Brock got the guys from the boxing team and pulled them aside. After handing the boxers each a small wooden coin, they all left the gym. I could tell by the look on their faces, this was normal. They most likely wouldn’t be back.
The girls in the yoga section and the buys who were left in the weight area all watched with obvious longing as Stryker took his team and walked out. Sans me.
I was on the boxing team. Why weren’t they including me in this?
I glanced irritatedly at my father who just ignored the entire happenings and I jumped from the bench. Following the group out through the boys locker room and then into the parking lot – ignoring the shouts from anyone who might be trying to stop me, I watched them climb into their cars and trucks and pull out of the lot.
I wasn’t going to be left behind. In less than a minute, I’d returned to the girls’ locker room to claim my backpack with my keys. I ran full force to the parking lot and climbed into my truck. All of the vehicles were already gone.
It was a small town. I could drive around until I found them.
I pulled out of the lot and drove east, the same direction the rest of them had disappeared.
Jameson was a small town. Very few stores lined Main Street, which wasn’t a bad thing, but did create a type of monopoly of businesses when there was only one grocery store, one laundromat, one gas store, one liquor store, and one café. Each business had the corner of the market.
My truck sputtered smoothly down the main road, then back out along the side streets.
With that many cars and trucks, they wouldn’t be able to hide that size of a gathering. I wasn’t sure where the Jameson cousins lived, but chances were that was where they’d gone.
I had to figure out where I was going before I drove any further.
Pulling over, I grabbed my phone from the front pocket of my pack and used the map app to look up the town of Jameson. I wasn’t sure what to look for, but there had to be a place big enough to hold all those vehicles.
With the satellite view enabled, I groaned. Yep. I was right. The only place that was big enough were the mines on the north side of town, but what teenager wanted to go to the mines? I sighed.
The fact of the matter was, it was the only place big enough that I hadn’t checked yet. Short of thinking they’d gone to Curly’s just outside of town which wouldn’t even be open at three in the afternoon, I had to think outside the box. I’d checked all of the business part of town.
Why not do the simple thing and drive by the mines? Was there something wrong with that? If they weren’t there, I could text Sara and let her know I’d pick her up and we could make an early night of it.
If they were there, then maybe I could get some information on what my team was doing.
I pulled back onto the pot-holed road and turned right at the next stop sign. Driving north, I frowned as I realized the deeper north I went the darker the streets got. The bull pines overhead seemed to hunker inward toward each other.
The pavement ended with a bump and my tires ground over gravel on a dirt road with a ferociousness I had to slow down to control. The road seemed narrow and unending until suddenly it wasn’t.
The mouth of the road opened up into a clearing that was easily the width of three football fields.
On one end of the gravel lot, a double-wide trailer had been planted like a weed, sticking up out of the plainness of the site with an eye toward claiming attention.
I paused as I took in the vehicles I’d been hunting on the far side of the lot, opposite the trailer. The trailer had a porch light on but no lights glowing from inside. Middle of the afternoon and the outside light was on. Made me not want to go near it even more.
I slowed way down, barely inching forward in first gear as I continued taking note of my surroundings.
On the other side of the vehicles was a large chute-style opening into the side of the mountain. Double metal doors large enough to allow a semi through closed off the entrance, but the graffiti-free exterior told me this was the spot I was looking for.
I came to a stop, tucked against the side of a station wagon, probably from twenty years ago. I wasn’t sure whose vehicle it was, but it was cheap enough for a high schooler. My truck was still small compared to the wagon-styled vehicle. On my other side, the forest beckoned to me, like I could hide in there and no one would be the wiser.
If I sat in the truck, someone would notice. I wasn’t sure where everyone was, but I had no doubt someone sitting in their truck would be noticed when no one else was around.
I slipped from the cab, leaving the keys inside in case I needed to make a fast getaway.
The entire aura about the place reeked of danger and illegal activities. How was my boxing team wrapped up in whatever was there? I’d heard about the silver mines of Idaho, but mostly as tourist traps. Nothing illicit would go on there since the mines were closed half the time.
I jogged across the ten feet of gravel to the woods and ducked behind a white fir to watch from a better position.
I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I could guarantee whatever it was, the owners of the big black Ford were involved. The truck taunted me, as if it knew I was there and was going to tell on me from its position nearest the entrance.
I breathed in, grateful for cleansing rain that kept the dust out of the air.
Nothing happened and for five minutes or so, I stared at the lot of cars like I expected them to change in front of me.
The doors opened with a metal grinding and I covered my mouth with my hand to smother the gasp. I wasn’t scared, it just startled me. I was in the middle of nowhere with no form of protection. Of course, I was scared. I wasn’t an idiot. I didn’t need anyone to find me. Who knew if that would make my situation worse?
Gunner and Brock stepped out of the tunnel, moving toward the truck. I had a clear line of sight and I couldn’t help noticing how well they moved, like they had plenty of muscles and were aware of each one.
Holstered to their hips were the metal butts of some handguns. I couldn’t tell from my spot what kind. Okay, honestly, I couldn’t tell the difference between a Nerf gun and a police handgun, so I wouldn’t be able to identify their guns no matter how close I got. However, that didn’t stop me from knowing they would be carrying real guns.
Gunner, Brock, and Stryker weren’t posers. They approached everything hard core and didn’t mess around with the fake crap.
Nothing about them was half-assed. I respected that which made it hard to fully hate them.
They lowered the tailgate on the truck, grabbed some boxes, closed the tailgate and then disappeared back inside the entrances. They didn’t close both sides of the doors, leaving one side propped open while shutting the other.
I wasn’t getting in there. Not without letting them know I was there. That couldn’t happen. They couldn’t know I was curious about them or that any of them affected me in any way. I couldn’t allow that. Not even a little bit.
A part of me felt decidedly left out, though. I knew I wasn’t part of the group. I got that. I even accepted it. What I didn’t get though was why. Why didn’t they want me? I could fight. I was loyal. I could do what needed to be done
.
The last weeks’ worth of being an outcast caught up to me and I turned, leaning my back on the trunk of the tree. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply of the pine-scented damp air. I just wanted to fit in somewhere that would help me get my dreams off the ground.
In weak moments like that one, I needed my mom. She used to have the right answers for everything.
Except… If her answers were right, why would she leave? Why couldn’t she stay with me? If it had been something Dad did, she could have taken me with her. We could have left him behind. I didn’t care. I needed my mom and she was nowhere around.
I wiped at my suddenly wet cheeks. No. I’d already cried over her. I wasn’t going to do it again. Not anymore. She didn’t deserve me missing her. Not when she wasn’t a good enough person to stick around for her daughter.
How long was I going to wait for someone to find me worthy?
Chapter 17
Gray
The weather didn’t hold back the chill of the fall day as I hunkered behind that tree. I wasn’t even sure what I was hiding from, but I knew I didn’t want to get caught. The fact that Gunner and Brock had guns threw me for a curve.
In Idaho there was a more laidback attitude about firearms. In Washington, no one carried while it seemed like in Idaho everyone and their dog had a gun. It was a little unnerving and yet, I couldn’t help thinking how hot they were with the pistols strapped to their waists.
What would Stryker look like? I blinked as heat spread through me. Just thinking about him was dangerous. He didn’t need a gun added to increase his bad boy appeal.
I briskly rubbed the bare skin of my forearms. Maybe an hour had passed since I’d arrived and no one else had come out since the Jameson boys had gone back into the tunnel. I couldn’t see if anyone still stood at the open door since it turned virtually black immediately past the doorjamb.
I didn’t want to be seen and I very easily could be if I ran back to my truck.
If I didn’t go inside, I wouldn’t find anything out. Maybe that was for the best. At least where I was right then, I wasn’t shot.
The crunch of a car on gravel carried from the entrance and I leaned against the tree as I searched the parking lot for the newcomer. Maybe it was someone I knew.
A bar of red and blue lights mounted on top of the new car made me catch my breath. I knew the Jamesons ran the school, maybe even part of the town, but they wouldn’t be able to control state police.
If nothing else, the fact that Brock and Gunner were underage and carrying wouldn’t be permitted.
The police car slowly moved up the line of parked cars, inspecting each one as if they held the secrets to the world’s crime problem. It rolled to a stop beside the black truck and the officer climbed out, searching the lot for something or someone.
He approached the truck slowly, peeking through the overly tinted windows as he moved toward the back. I wasn’t sure what was in the last few boxes the boys had left in the bed, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
I jerked some of my shirt up, pulled the strap to the side of my shoulder. Taking a deep breath, I burst from the forest line, panting and crying. I glanced behind me as if someone was chasing me and I stumbled through the gravel, making as much noise as possible.
Falling against a Toyota Camry, I pushed myself up, whimpering. “Help. Help me, please.”
“Miss?” The officer stepped toward me, furrowing his brow as he watched me and flicked his gaze the direction I’d come from.
I inhaled sharply and limped his way as if I hid a serious injury. Tears coursed down my cheeks as I let all of my pent-up emotions out. I sobbed. Finally reaching him, I stretched up a hand and clutched his bicep, leaning on him, much like the tree I’d left behind.
My lips quivered, from the cold, my emotions, or something else, I wasn’t sure, but it added to the image I was trying to put off. “Can you help me? He’s chasing me and I…” I bit my lip, closing my eyes.
The fewer details the better. I slumped against him as if I were too exhausted to go on. He wrapped his arm around me and motioned toward the woods. “Who am I looking for?” His earnest expression created a twinge of regret in my chest, but I tamped it down. He needed to be diverted so my team could get out of there.
I fluttered my hand behind me and shook my head. “He’s tallish? Brown or black hair. Wearing a neon green shirt, like road construction, maybe? He’s chasing me with a knife.” I reached up and clutched the officer’s shirt. “Don’t go out there. He’s crazy.” I’m not sure who I was talking about, but whoever he was, he was terrifying.
The officer left my side, walking toward the perimeter of the forest and peering into the dark shadows. He glanced back at me, as if I were going to run, and then he climbed into the woods, hidden by the deepening shadows. After a second, a beam of light bounced around as he looked.
I was feet from the tunnel entrance and I didn’t move as I waited for the cop to come back.
Gunner burst out of the entrance; gun drawn. He jerked to a stop at the sight of me, his eyebrows drawn in worry.
I motioned him back into the doorway, careful to keep my voice down. “Get back. There’s a cop out there and I know he can see this area.”
Gunner complied, stepping back into the shadows and studying the scene. He took in the cruiser by the truck, my disheveled appearance, and then in the direction I faced. I didn’t continue looking at the tunnel entrance, instead staring at the flashlight beam that moved around the forest edge. Gunner spoke, his voice soft but distinct. “You didn’t have to do that, Gray.”
“Go away, Gunner. I’ll get him out of here, but I can’t promise it will be long.” I bit my lip, shaking my head and wiping at my still tear-damp cheeks. “I didn’t do it for you, either. I did it for the team. We need numbers to be able to qualify for the match.” It was a lame excuse and we both knew it, but I’d stick to it to the death.
He must have sensed I was at my limit and didn’t want to talk anymore. There was no other sound as he seemed to fade completely into the dark.
My anxiety was real as the cop wandered back to me, flicking his eyes between me and the woods. “I didn’t see anything.” His gaze was suddenly suspicious. He motioned the now-dark flashlight at the trucks and cars parked around us. “Are you sure these aren’t one of yours and you’re trying to protect your friends?”
I shook my head, more tears spilling out. Pressing my hand to my chest, I sobbed. “Friends? I just moved here. I’m out for a run and that psycho tried to kill me. I don’t know what I would have done, if I hadn’t found you.” I peered past his shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t see anything? I can’t go back that way. What if he’s waiting for me but hiding from you?” I looked up at the sky, which was darkening rapidly in the early fall evening.
He studied me like he couldn’t tell if I was lying or not. After another minute, he seemed to make up his mind and he motioned toward his black car. “You stay here. I’ll go look again.” He moved as if to study each of the cars as he passed toward the tree line.
I shook my head and reached out, clinging tighter to his arm. “No, please. Can you just take me home? I’m terrified and I’m so cold. I feel like I’ve been running forever.” I searched his face, sure I looked like a scared mouse. He took in my workout clothes and seemed to buy my story. He nodded, motioning toward his car. “Sure, I’ll give you a lift. I can come back here later.” He seemed to watch me with suspicion as if he expected me to use a phone and warn someone.
I didn’t do anything, but cross my arms and climb into the cruiser. He had me sit in back, which was totally fine. I was lying to the law; I basically was a criminal.
I glanced back at the woods as if I were still scared my attacker was out there. I leaned forward. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, no problem.” The cop pulled out of the parking lot and I didn’t look back at my abandoned truck or the other cars.
I’d done my best to get them time,
I just hoped they were smart enough to use it.
Chapter 18
Stryker
“What is that noise?” I craned my neck toward the exit where echoes of footsteps thundering closer and closer had taken over the quiet of the meeting room.
Gunner broke through the door, his eyes wide as he sought me and Brock, each at our normal positions for meetings. He ignored all the other people in the room as they organized the labels for our newest shipment.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” I half-turned toward him, lowering my hand to the sidearm tucked in my holster. We wore the guns as a safety measure. The last time we brought a new shipment in for distribution, we’d been attacked by Russian upstarts from Timbercreek who didn’t realize we were the main runners of the inland northwest. We haven’t been without the pistols since.
Gunner blinked at me, taking a second to breathe as he gasped to catch his breath. He licked his lips and looked around at the packed room. “She’s… I mean… We have a bacon fest.”
The code phrase split the silence in the room and all thirty-five people stood – some older, some teenagers and some in between. They silently gathered the items in front of them and dropped their armfuls of product into the box on the side of the room. They didn’t look at any of us as they each ducked out of the door into the tunnel to wait for further orders.
A bacon fest was a cop warning. We were to all evacuate once we had the all clear.
I grabbed the inventory sheets, plopped them on top of the bags and labels and shoved the box into the hidden storage unit behind the doors. Gunner and Brock ducked out of the doors ahead of me and I hit the automatic locks as I left the room, letting the lights go out as the door clicked shut.
Everyone waited quietly. In Idaho, marijuana was illegal in any form. The fact that we worked only miles across the border to a state where it was fully legal didn’t matter and actually made the police even more suspicious and determined to catch any illegal activities.
Her Challengers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 1) Page 15
