Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance

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Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance Page 8

by Lindsey Iler


  “Then explain to me how this works.”

  My eyes widen to match his. My fight or flight instinct is to get out of here, not dare to clarify anything to him. How am I supposed to make him understand when I don’t even understand?

  “Quit looking at me like that.” I cover his face with my hand, too afraid to look into the eyes of the boy who managed to somewhat rescue me from my own thoughts.

  “No, I need to know what I’m up against.”

  “You’ve already called a gauntlet against him, so I’m pretty sure you know what you’re up against.”

  “No, because you asking for permission to invite him into your life goes a lot deeper than this gauntlet.”

  “I need him,” I admit. “But I’ve grown to need you, too.” Is that even true? Why do I feel like it’s not? Then again, I’ve somehow attached myself to Tripp in a way I don’t quite understand.

  “So, you date us both until, what, you figure out what you want? That’s an awfully big thing to ask.”

  “Not up for it?”

  “No, I’m not up for it!” he exclaims, a competitive edge in his voice. “I’d prefer if you didn’t ask me to do this.”

  I wring my hands, trying to think of a way this could work.

  “I need to ask something of you.” His serious face makes me wary. “Please don’t see him again until the gauntlet is done.”

  My eyes flutter shut, and I work double time to regulate my breathing. If I peek, and he’s looking at me, I’m not sure I’ll be able to lie to him. Tripp is a good guy. He’s been sweet to me. Does he have his flaws? Of course, he does, but who doesn’t? I find it impossible to not fall for him. He’s easy, and sometimes easy for me is what I’m looking for.

  On the count of three, I’ll open my eyes, and I’ll know what to do.

  One.

  Two.

  Three.

  Tripp’s attention is on his phone on his bedside table. As if he senses my stare, he twists to face me.

  “I promise not to see him,” I lie, cupping Tripp’s face in my hands. I drop a quick kiss on his lips and rise from the bed. “I’m going to head to campus. I’m really tired after everything that went down tonight.”

  “Are you sure? You can stay the night if you want.” He grabs my hands, massaging them with his thumbs, while swinging them lightly.

  “I should be getting back. Campus security is going to start catching on to me sneaking in at the wee hours of the morning.” I smile, hoping he’ll buy it. “But we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  I head for the door, but Tripp brings me tight against his chest. “Are we okay? Because it doesn’t feel like we are.”

  “Don’t worry so much.” I cup his face, give him a quick kiss again, then grab my bag off the floor at the foot of his bed and leave.

  In the parking lot, my pink Mini Cooper sticks out like a sore thumb in a sea of black SUVs and sports cars. It’s like no one on this campus believes in color.

  I hate driving, and I’m reminded of that when it starts to rain. Winters are a bitch here. We never know what we are going to get. Lucky for me, today has been warm, so I don’t have to worry about sliding over an icy road.

  The night watch stops me at the gate, asking for my identification. He hands it over, offering me a good night as I drive away. Students have a sticker on their window, but since the “incident,” security is working overtime. While I appreciate it beyond belief, I miss the days where we could come and go as we please with no one being none the wiser.

  At the next intersection, I come to a dead stop in the middle of the road. Five, ten minutes pass as I look from my left to my right, trying to decide my next move. I grab my phone and open my music app, then choose playlist and click shuffle. This song will tell me what to do.

  “Hurricane” by Fleurie pops up on the screen. With my eyes closed, I listen to the lyrics. The melody is haunting, digging deep into my bones as the story unfolds. The sound of the storm mixed with this song shoots a shiver right up my spine, and I know what I need to do.

  I spin the wheel harshly to the right and head up the hill, realizing I may regret this, while hoping later I’ll look on the choice with understanding and grace. The windshield wipers work overtime as the rain beats down on the glass like heavy drums.

  After I park, I close my eyes again, trying to calm my nerves. When they open, at the end of the hood is Breaker. His clothes are drenched. His hair falls in his face, covering the eyes I need to see. He leans forward, his hands on my hood, staring at me.

  I turn the car off, toss the keys in the passenger seat, and kill the headlights, casting Breaker in darkness.

  What am I doing here?

  Breaker raises his hands, then slams them down, startling me. I open my door, and with no remorse, I run at him. He catches me in his arms, my legs wrapping tight around his waist. The cold deluge slams against us.

  “What are you doing here?” Breaker asks.

  “Following the hurricane,” I answer, grabbing his face and pressing our lips together in a kiss. It’s slow to start, but like a fire, it builds quick until it’s uncontrollable, proving a kiss with Tripp will never compare and coming here, following my heart will never be a wrong move.

  Breaker walks to the house, and our kiss continues through him bending down and opening the door.

  “Oh,” Palmer hisses from somewhere inside.

  Breaker rushes to his room and kicks the door shut, ignoring that we’ve been seen. I’m lowered to the floor, our bodies heating each other. There’s no end in sight for the grin on my face as we take each other in. The eager look on his face slowly fades as I stare over his shoulder. A perfectly folded piece of paper lies on his nightstand. He follows my eye-line, realization forming in the corner of his eyes.

  “You’re curious, aren’t you?” Breaker goads.

  “Tripp planned on using it against you, and if it in any way involves me, I deserve to know how far this gauntlet will go.”

  “It has nothing to do with you,” he explains, crossing the room, making me miss his presence near me. When he returns, he fiddles with it, twisting it between his fingers.

  “Then what is it?”

  “A secret I prefer to keep, Delaney.”

  “Do you trust me?” I ask, knowing this is an unfair question.

  “Do you ride his dick every chance you get?” He snarls. “See how the question isn’t necessary, but we’re both curious of the answers.”

  “Breaker,” I say sternly.

  “If you want to know what it is, go ahead and take a peek. I don’t keep secrets from you. If you want to know every dark piece of my past, it’s yours to consume. I warned you though.” He shakes the paper that holds his secret.

  Do I take it? He said it’s a secret he’d like to keep. It’s unfair to demand to read it. If he’d wanted me to know, he would have divulged the information freely without conditions.

  “Second-guessing it now, baby girl?” He wiggles it between us. “Go ahead. I’m giving you permission.”

  My fingers take the paper and twist it as he had, flipping it from one hand to the other. Prolonging the inevitable, I slowly peel the folds back until I see printed words across the entire paper.

  “What is this?” I glance between Breaker and the document that looks like an intake form for a hospital.

  “It was freshman year.” Breaker bites the inside of his cheek, debate rolling through his eyes as if he’s frantically trying to form words. I hate to see him struggling.

  “What happened?” I ask, almost too afraid to know the answer, but desperate to understand the boy who’s struggling.

  “The records have been scrubbed clean. I don’t know how he even got ahold of these.”

  “Why were they scrubbed?”

  “Money talks louder than the law. I did some really fucked up things, but my Aunt Emily refused to allow my entire future to be dependent on outsiders understanding. I was a lost soul. That’s what they called me.”

/>   “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. I took the fall for someone.”

  “What did they do?” Asking who they are isn’t necessary. There are only a few people on this Earth who Breaker would kill himself for.

  “Byron was a senior. We were freshmen. Dixon invited us to a party Byron was throwing at the Glass House, and things got out of control.”

  “What do you mean things got out of control?” My pulse quickens in fear of what I’ll hear next.

  “The party was practically over. There were a few random people here and there. Dixon had gone pretty heavy with the pills, so when he came thundering down the stairs, red-rimmed eyes full of horror, I knew things were going to change,” Breaker explains, a distant look in his eyes as if he’s teleported to that night. He sits on the edge of the mattress. “A girl overdosed in the middle of Dixon and her hooking up.”

  “When the police and ambulance showed up, you took the fall because you didn’t want Dixon to get in trouble.”

  “He was already on probation for another indiscretion on campus. The police took me down to the station, accused me of horrible things, and after six hours, my aunt showed up and dragged my ass out of there. It was a spur of the moment decision that could’ve changed my life forever.”

  “What happened to the girl?” I crouch down in front of him.

  “She didn’t make it.” There’s sorrow in his voice for a life he hadn’t been responsible for.

  “Which is why you guys are always joking about Dixon loving unconscious girls.” I nod, finally understanding their little inside secret.

  “We’re assholes,” Breaker admits, looking up at me. His eyes take their time, roaming from my head to what he can see of my body with me in this position.

  “I look a mess,” I say, running my hands over my hair and down my soaked clothes.

  “You look beautiful.” He bends down and kisses me. His lips don’t stop at a simple taste. They glide down to my neck, nibbling on my collarbone. My shirt is removed from my body, leaving me in my jeans and bra. “I need to ask,” he whispers, dropping to his knees. He flicks the button open on my jeans, kissing right above the fabric of my thong.

  “Keep doing that, and you can ask me anything you want.” Overcome by excitement and pleasure, my head falls back, allowing me to see droplets of rain hitting the skylight.

  “Why are you here, Delaney?” His question strikes me as odd. He knows exactly why I’m here. “After tonight, I figured we were done.”

  “You need to hear me say it, Break?” I comb my fingers through his hair, playing with the wet ends.

  “I sure do, baby.” He rises, and I peel the shirt off his body, exposing his beautiful tattoos. They are different, but somehow work together like a giant piece of art on his skin. The theme is blaringly obvious. Darkness.

  “I can’t stay away,” I admit. “I didn’t know that Tripp was going to use me in his gauntlet. I’m sorry.”

  “He knows you’re here?” Breaker asks, taking a step away. He makes me hate the distance. When I don’t answer, he falls onto the bed, his arms stretched across the mattress. “Dammit, Delaney.”

  I crawl up the bed, straddling him. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place, when every nerve in my body is begging me to rock against him.

  “He asked me to stay away from you.”

  “And the first thing you did was come here.”

  “I don’t like being told what to do.”

  “But you didn’t break things off with him, did you?” Breaker asks what we already know. “So, what is this?”

  “This is me asking you to give me time to figure out my shit.”

  “I already told you, if you ask me to do this, I won’t go easy on you. I’ve been gentle up to this point, but I won’t hold back if you make me.”

  “I’ve never asked you to be gentle,” I whisper, dropping my eyes to his chest and flushing with embarrassment.

  His hands tighten on my waist. “This may be fun after all.”

  He raises his hips, knocking me on my back, and presses me into the mattress with his full weight. He nibbles here and there, softly, but bites down harder every few inches as he moves up my body. His mouth is sloppy against my ear.

  “I’m going to fuck him right out of your mind, baby, and when I do, I want to be there when you tell him.” He crawls down my body, stopping his mouth right at the apex of my thighs, licking the fabric that covers the spot that needs his mouth most.

  “You think awfully high of yourself,” I goad him, knowing it will piss him off and turn him on.

  With little effort, he flips me onto my stomach, then a sharp pain radiates over my butt. I glance over my shoulder, and he bares his white toothy grin, completely pleased with himself. Breaker and I have never struggled with having fun together. It’s hard not to when I’m around him. He’s playful in a way that makes me comfortable.

  “Better hold on.” He moves my hands to the metal bars of his headboard.

  Breaker eases my jeans and panties down my legs and throws them onto the floor. I smile at him, fully exposed and ready for whatever he has for me. His arm cuts under my body, lifting my ass in the air and spreading my legs at the same time.

  His warmth disappears, then his hair tickling my thighs makes me laugh. Once he’s fully under me, he smiles.

  “Sit.” His command has my center clenching tight in anticipation of his tongue lapping across my pussy.

  The first lick has my toes curling. He grips my hips, applying enough pressure to make my legs give out, placing me further down on his tongue.

  “Fuck!” I shout in ecstasy, rolling my hips into his face.

  “That’s it, baby.” He devours me like a final meal, showing extra attention to my clit until I’m on the edge of the mountain, daring myself to jump.

  “Shit, I’m coming.” I grab a chunk of his hair, pressing his face deep into me. The orgasm rolls through me like a wave, crashing with pure satisfaction.

  Completely spent, I lift myself off Breaker and fall to the mattress beside him. He wipes the corner of his mouth, grinning like a prized man. I lean over him, searching for my underwear.

  “Not so fast.” Breaker’s hands wrap around my waist, throwing me down on the bed. “I’m not done with you.”

  Breaker Davenport is no liar. He spends the rest of the night worshipping every inch of my body. This isn’t our first time having sex, but it’s different now.

  We’re different.

  ******

  “Fancy seeing you here this morning, Delaney,” Marek singsongs.

  “Breaker’s in the shower, and I’m waiting for someone to feed me.” I hold my hands under my chin, batting my eyelashes at him.

  “What are you in the mood for?” He moves around the kitchen, grabbing bread, eggs, and bacon.

  “That looks about right.” I sit on the stool and gaze at what will become my breakfast.

  “You know, I only cook for Palmer and the boys most days. If you’re going to be a regular at this breakfast table, I’m going to need a heads-up.” He grins at me then focuses on cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “Don’t listen to him.” Palmer hops down from the rear stairwell. “You’re welcome here, with no notice, but do I dare ask why you’re here?”

  “Because she can’t resist me,” Breaker says, announcing his entrance. He comes up behind me and massages my shoulders before bending to kiss me on the cheek.

  “Well, I’m going to steal my best friend for a minute and let you boys do the cooking.” Palmer nods towards the door for me to follow.

  Breaker’s already too engrossed in the job of making toast and flipping bacon to argue my being led away. We know what will happen once I leave the kitchen. Questions.

  “Explain yourself,” Palmer says once I’m sitting next to her on the couch.

  “Do you want the long or short version?” I smile at her, hoping to get out of this conversation.

  “Whatever you’re
comfortable with. We haven’t had the chance to talk lately. Worried is an understatement for what I’ve been feeling,” she pleads.

  “Have you ever felt utterly lost, like no decision you make will be the right one for yourself, and that if you do make a decision, you immediately think the other option would be for the best?” I grab a pillow and shield my chest.

  “Look around, Delaney. I’m a living memorial for unsure decision making. I fell in love with a boy who quite literally almost killed me and was cruel to me, time and time again.”

  “WHOA!” Marek peeks his head into the living room. “I’ve apologized for all of that.”

  “I know, baby.” She winks at him and then directs her attention at me, widening her eyes to make sure I’m paying attention. “No one said you have to make a decision right now. I do have to ask something, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What do you see in Tripp DuPont? I assume it’s the decision between Breaker and him that has you struggling.”

  “When I went home, Tripp was staying with our family. I was a shell after everything that happened, and he took the time to knock down the walls I built up.”

  “What about Breaker?”

  “Whenever I look in his eyes for too long, I’m practically teleported into that mansion, stuck inside that room. I’m afraid being with him would be a life sentence of being reminded of the things we did, yet somehow, he’s where I feel the safest.”

  “You survived, Delaney. That’s what both of you did. You survived together because of each other.” Palmer tightens her lips, watching my face as I try to keep it as neutral as possible.

  “We killed him,” I whisper. My breaths practically strangle me on their way out.

  “And the world is a better place for it.” Palmer’s voice is full of conviction. She believes what she’s saying, and she’s not lying. The world doesn’t need men like Declan Dumas running around.

  “You weren’t there.” I shrug, fighting my emotions. “I held that knife in my hand, and”—my lip trembles, fighting to stop the words before they can be spoken—“I saw red. I don’t think I’ve ever known true hatred in my life until I stood over him and did what I did to him.”

 

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