Chasing Hadley (Hadley) (Chasing the Harlyton Sisters Book 1)

Home > Young Adult > Chasing Hadley (Hadley) (Chasing the Harlyton Sisters Book 1) > Page 7
Chasing Hadley (Hadley) (Chasing the Harlyton Sisters Book 1) Page 7

by Jessica Sorensen


  I nod, stuffing the keys into my pocket. “Sorry, but until we can come up with some cash for new tires, we’re going to be trekking around on foot for a—what the hell!” I sputter as I catch sight of my car.

  Bailey’s brows furrow then a smile spreads across her face as she tracks my gaze. “Your tires are fixed!” She does a little happy dance. “Hell yeah! No walking to school.”

  I look at Londyn. “Did you do this?”

  She shakes her head. “I wish I did, but I’m as broke as you are.”

  I give Payton a suspicious glance. “Did you by chance find a way to steal four new tires?”

  “No, but I did think about it.” She drums her finger against her lips. “Maybe Dad did it?”

  Silence stretches between us, then we bust up laughing.

  “Yeah, right.” I wipe the tears of laughter from my eyes. “And then, after that, he prepaid all our bills, so we never have to worry about getting evicted again.”

  “God, wouldn’t that be nice?” Londyn says as we open the doors to get into my car.

  “Definitely …” I pause, noticing a small card balanced on the dashboard.

  I grab the card and open it.

  Hadley,

  Sorry about what my brother did to your tires. I know this doesn’t make up for him, but I’m hoping it’s a start.

  From,

  Your neighbor

  I rub the back of my hand across my forehead as I slowly drop into the driver’s seat.

  “Who’s that from?” Londyn asks as she shuts the door.

  I hand her the note then slip the keys in the ignition and start up the engine.

  She reads over the note, and then a silly grin touches her lips. “Well, that was sort of nice, I guess. But which one of them do you think did it.”

  “My guess is Rhyland. He seems the nicest. Definitely not Blaise.” I grip the steering wheel, unsure what to make of the card. “I don’t know about this, though… I mean, I’m glad we have tires now, but I feel like maybe there’s more to it than him just putting new tires on my car.”

  Londyn sets the card down on the console then reaches to put her seatbelt on. “You think he has an ulterior motive?”

  I shift the car into reverse. “Maybe.”

  Londyn nods. “After what Hunter told me, I wouldn’t trust any of them.”

  “Who’s Hunter?” Bailey, Payton, and I ask simultaneously.

  “The cashier at the gas station.” Her cheeks blush a bit.

  Jeez, has she already fallen for this guy? “Are you dating him or something?” Because she has been “practicing soccer drills” a lot lately.

  “No,” she scoffs, but her blush deepens.

  I trade an amused grin with Payton and Bailey, but my grin erases as my gaze lands on the card.

  Bailey tracks my gaze then leans over the seat. “You think they fixed your tires as a prank or something?”

  “What kind of a prank is that?” Payton points out as she draws her seatbelt over her shoulder.

  “I’m not sure.” I start to press on the gas, but then hesitate. Pushing the shifter back into park, I fasten my seatbelt. “Put your seatbelt on, Bailey.”

  Bailey eyeballs me warily before sitting back and doing what she’s told.

  “What exactly do you think’s going to happen?” Londyn asks with mild concern.

  “I don’t know.” I really don’t either.

  All I know is that, according to the note, my neighbor put new tires on my car sometime last night while I was asleep, or else I would’ve noticed. But maybe Blaise had Alex, the mechanic of the brothers, put on the tires to distract me from something else they did to my car. Something bad.

  I do a quick brake check before backing out onto the street. Then I hold my breath as I drive forward. I continue to hold my breath for a few blocks. The farther we get without any mishaps, the more I question if maybe I’m being paranoid.

  That theory seems more plausible when we arrive at school without any mishaps and quite a bit early, since we were originally planning on walking.

  When I turn off the engine, a breath of relief escapes my lips.

  “Well,” Payton says, “guess you were wrong about Mr. Fine Ass next door, which means I can ask him out, right?”

  I swiftly shake my head. “No dating any of them, understand? They’re way too old for you, and from what Londyn’s told me, they could be dangerous.”

  “Um, no they’re not,” Payton argues. “Jaxon, the youngest, is just a couple of years younger than Payton and I. Blaise is about the same age as you.” She pulls a tube of lip gloss from her pocket. “And Alex and Rhyland are just a couple of months younger than him and are half brothers with Blaise and Jaxon.”

  I rotate around in the seat and gape at her. “How in the hell did you get all that information?”

  She applies a coat of lip gloss and shrugs. “Miss Clammersin—the lady we’re babysitting for—likes to gossip, so I asked her about the Porterson brothers, you know, in case we need some intel on them. And she was more than happy to oblige.”

  I lift a brow. “The Porterson brothers?”

  “That’s what people around here call them.” She stuffs her lip gloss into her pocket. “Rhyland and Alex are twins and from what Miss Clammersin said, Blaise is pretty much like the parent of the household. I not sure why. But they have quite the reputation for causing chaos. Even worse than us, probably.”

  “Blaise is like the parent of the household?” I question, stunned. “Well, doesn’t that just sound lovely.”

  “You’re basically like the parent to us,” Payton reminds me as she checks her phone.

  “Yeah, I know, but I don’t go around slitting peoples tires because they didn’t swoon at my feet when I called them baby,” I point out, tucking the keys into my pocket.

  Payton’s brow curves up. “What about the time you keyed Will’s car?”

  “That was different,” I protest. “He cheated on Londyn.”

  “What?” Payton shrieks. “I didn’t know that. If I did then I would’ve helped you keyed that fuckers car.”

  “Which is why we didn’t tell you,” I say and Londyn nods in agreement.

  Payton rolls her eyes as she slips her backpack on. “You’re always trying to protect us.”

  “Yep,” I say without shame. “And I’m trying to protect you too when I say to stay away from the neighbors.”

  After what she told me about the Porterson brothers, I’m even more desperate to keep my sisters away from them. Parentless. Troublemakers. Twins. Their family is practically the male version of ours, except I’d like to believe we’re not quite as bad. I don’t know how accurate that is. Over the years, my sisters and I have done our fair share of wreaking havoc. I don’t think people have ever referred to us as dangerous, though. Just trouble.

  Still, put the eight of us together and it’ll be a disaster in the making.

  “Wait, don’t they have a sister?” I ask, recalling the girl who warned me about her brothers.

  Payton nods, flipping her hair off her shoulder. “From what I understand, she gets into just as much trouble as her brothers.”

  I collect my bag and reach for the door handle. “Well, isn’t that just lovely.”

  Payton pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “You know what? Maybe I should see if I can dig up more dirt on them today, just so we know what to watch out for.”

  I shake my head. “Stay away from them. I mean it.”

  “Okay.” But the mischievous glint in her eyes lets me know she’s full of shit.

  Sighing, I get out of the car, and my sisters follow. Then we start across the parking lot toward the entrance doors of the single-story, brick school. We’re early, only a handful of students are around, but we somehow manage to draw attention.

  “Why are they staring?” Londyn whispers. “Do I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe or something?”

  I glance at her feet. “Nope. You’re good.”

  “Maybe
it’s because we’re new,” Bailey suggests, glancing around the campus yard uneasily. “This is a small town. They probably know we’re new.”

  “Maybe.” But I have an unsettling feeling the dirty looks we’re getting have nothing to do with our newbie status.

  My doubt only plummets when we enter the school and the few people standing by their lockers start whispering and snickering in our direction.

  Something is certainly going on, and I have a feeling it has to do with dipshit one, two, three, and four—yes, for now, I’m putting Rhyland in that category, too.

  A second later, my suspicions are confirmed when I note the flyers taped to the lockers.

  “What are those?” Bailey whispers, eyeballing them.

  I pluck one off, and anger ripples through me.

  Everyone, I’d like to introduce you to the Harlyton sisters. They just moved here and will be joining our little student body population. The first thing you should know about them is they are quite the little kleptomaniacs. They can also be very manipulative. And according to some of their police records, they like to solve their problems with violence.

  Below the note is a list of every crime my sisters and I have ever committed, along with a mugshot of Payton and Bailey, and yes, me. Londyn is the only one of us who hasn’t been arrested yet, but one of her yearbook photos is included. Even crimes never reported to the police are on there.

  How did they learn all this?

  Londyn leans over my shoulder to read it. “Wait … Is that a list of all the times we’ve gotten in trouble?”

  Nodding, I crumple up the paper and begin ripping down the rest of the flyers. We’re early enough that maybe I can stop everyone from seeing them. Then again, the few people who already have seen them are more than likely going to gossip about it.

  “Do you think the Porterson brothers did this?” Londyn hisses as she rushes after me while Payton takes off toward the bathroom.

  “I’ll go check on her,” Bailey says, jogging after her.

  I rip off more flyers and toss them in the trash can. “I don’t think they did it. I know they did.”

  Londyn tears a flyer off a locker, her fingers slightly trembling. “How did they find all this dirt on us?”

  I shrug, tearing a flyer in half. “I’m not sure.” But I do know why they probably started searching for the info.

  Back when I spoke to Rhyland, I accidentally let it slip that my sisters got into trouble and sometimes even with the police.

  This is all my fault.

  I need to find a way to fix it, whatever it takes.

  Nine

  I’m a prideful person, have been for as long as I can remember. That pride can sometimes get me into trouble, like this whole ordeal with the Porterson brothers.

  Maybe I should’ve just ignored Blaise’s baby and sweetheart comments. That might have been easier. But ignoring isn’t always necessarily the right thing to do, easier or not. And I’m sick of guys talking to me like I’m a ditzy girl who should just get all swoony because they glance my way or pay me a bit of attention when I don’t even want it.

  By the time I make it to first period English, I’m fuming mad. I haven’t seen the Porterson brothers, but they have to be here, right? How else could those flyers have been put up?

  “Fuck the Porterson brothers,” I mutter as I slump lower in my desk, waiting for the bell to ring while doing my best to ignore the gawks and whispers floating around me.

  “Do you mean that literally?” Blaise’s amused tone makes every single one of my muscles wind into knots. “Because, while that sounds interesting in theory, I’m not sure you can handle all four of us. Or even one of us.”

  I restlessly drum my fingers on top of my legs as I sense him take a seat in the desk behind mine. So many comebacks burn at the tip of my tongue, but I simmer them out, reigning back on my temper before turning around.

  “Was it you?” I ask in an even tone.

  He cocks his head to the side. “Was what me?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

  He slants forward, crossing his arms on his desk, his eyes swirling with a look that makes the air get caught in my lungs. “Then don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart.”

  “Stop calling me sweetheart,” I hiss. “And I’m not playing dumb.”

  “Yes, you were, by asking me if I did it instead of just accusing.”

  “Is that your way of confessing you put those flyers up all over the school?”

  He works his jaw from side to side. ““Confessing would mean I care, which I don’t.”

  My fingers fold inward. “I warned you to stay away from my sisters.”

  The corners of his lips kick up into a cold grin. “You really need to stop threatening me, sweetheart.”

  “And you need to stay away from me and my sisters.” I lean in, my voice like ice. “And stop calling me sweetheart.”

  He rubs his lips together. “You know, most girls would be flattered by my attention.”

  I roll my eyes. “I highly doubt that.”

  He cocks a brow. “Don’t believe me. Take a look around you.”

  I discreetly peer around and notice a few of the female population smiling at Blaise. And some dudes. “They’re probably just staring in shock.”

  “About what?” His lips span into a grin. “My shocking good looks.”

  “No, that someone so conceited actually exists.”

  He rolls his tongue in his mouth while restlessly tapping his pen against his desk. “You know, you’ve got quite a mouth on you, sweetheart.”

  “And you’ve got quite a misconstrued self-perception, small dick.”

  He nearly drops his pen. “Did you just call me small dick?”

  “Yep, it’s my new nickname for you. And I’m going to use it every time you call me anything else besides my name.”

  Blaise studies me with a mixture of curiosity and irritation, his lips parting. “I think—”

  The bell rings, cutting him off, and he appears pretty grateful for it.

  Moments later, the teacher walks in, along with Jaxon. He hurriedly takes a seat in the desk across from Blaise’s, but his attempt to rush into class doesn’t go unnoticed, and most of the people in the room sneak a glance at him. They do the same thing with Blaise. The more I observe the attention they’re getting, the more I question if it isn’t because of how good looking there are but because they’re the town troublemakers.

  As Jaxon pulls out his book, he offers me a coy smile, which I return with the dirtiest look I can muster.

  His gaze nervously drops to his desk, which sort of makes me feel bad. Out of the four of them, Jaxon seems a bit shy. But I keep the apology to myself as the teacher announces class is starting.

  I rotate around in my seat, putting my back to Blaise and Jaxon, and try not to think about any of the Porterson brothers. When the teacher calls out my name, the entire class snickers. My jaw ticks, and before I can even comprehend the consequences of my action, I kick my foot back and straight into Blaise’s shin.

  He groans, cursing underneath his breath. Then I feel him lean forward, his breath hot against my skin.

  “So you like it rough?” he whispers. “Good to know.”

  I shield my forehead with my hand as I lower my head, my cheeks flushing.

  When his chuckle tickles my ear, I consider kicking him again, but after what he just said, I keep my feet glued to the ground, knowing I’ll be giving him more satisfaction than anything else.

  No, if I want to get him back for outing my sisters’ and my secrets, I’m going to have to find a non-violent way to do it.

  And I will get my revenge.

  Because no one messes with the Harlyton sisters and gets away with it.

  Ten

  When the bell rings, I gather my books and hurry out of class, taking the front exit instead of the back. As I’m distractedly wandering out the door, I smack straight into a solid chest. And to add to
my embarrassment, I accidentally step on their toe and elbow them in the stomach.

  “Sorry,” I mutter, my gaze snapping up to meet Rhyland’s gaze.

  Great, out of all the people to run into.

  The corners of his lips kick up into a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m sorry too.”

  “I don’t know why you’re apologizing.” I shift my books in my arm. “I’m the one who ran into you.”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t really watching where I was going.” He offers me a charming smile.

  I almost smile back until I note the abundance of staring being aimed in my direction.

  “Man, they don’t let up, do they?” I mutter through a weighted sigh.

  “Yeah, people around here have a bad habit of staring at my brothers and me.” No arrogance is evident in his tone, just a simple matter of fact that he seems sort of sad about.

  “I’m sure they do. But this time, I’m pretty sure they’re staring at me.” I turn around, ready to head to my next class and get the hell away from all the gawking.

  “Wait.” Rhyland jogs after me, tucking his books under his arm. “What did you mean by that?”

  I throw him a really look. “Like you haven’t heard the rumors.”

  He shakes his head. “I try to not listen to rumors, so no, I haven’t.”

  I can’t tell whether he’s lying or not. “Maybe you should ask your brother then.”

  “My brother?” A crease etches between his brows. “Alex?”

  “No, Blaise,” I quicken my pace.

  “Hadley, please just wait a minute.” He captures my sleeve, and I grind to a halt. He waits for me to turn around before he says, “What do you mean I should ask Blaise …?” He releases my sleeve. “Did he…” He seems so lost. “Did he do something to you?”

  I search his eyes, questioning if he’s really as clueless as he’s acting, but I don’t know him very well to be able to determine that.

  Huffing in frustration, I move over to the trash can, grab a flyer out of it, and slap it against Rhyland’s chest. “Those were all over the school this morning, and I’m pretty sure Blaise was behind the prank. I also think maybe you had something to do with it since I told you about our … colorful past with the law.”

 

‹ Prev