Everyone Keeps Secrets (Romantic Suspense Saga: Part 1)

by Katherine Greyson

  The girls and I hurried around the bushes trying to get a good look. Ally couldn’t see, so I slid one of the metal trashcans to the side and waved her over to come stand next to me.

  A group of broad-shouldered football players approached the new students. The tallest one, Tyler, called out, “You’re sitting in our spot. Move!”

  The freshman boys frantically grabbed their backpacks and scurried away, but the older kid didn’t move an inch. Boldly he countered, “Why don’t you leave those kids alone and go bully someone else.”

  I raised my head, impressed to see a new kid with enough guts to defend someone weaker. Most teenage boys I knew were more interested with fitting in and appearing cool rather than helping someone else.

  “A—hole,” Tyler responded under his breath.

  “Ooooh…” A few people in the crowd murmured.

  I looked back expecting the kid to respond, but he didn’t react at all. Instead, he kept his cool as he thumbed through his cell phone. He sat casually on top of the wall that ran along the last terrace that overlooked the loading dock. Fearful of heights, I knew there was a sharp story-and-a-half drop behind him. It made me nervous the way he recklessly sat along the edge—like he didn’t care if he fell or not.

  Justine looked over at me. “This is getting interesting.” She licked her lips.

  Always a sucker for a mystery, I studied the kid. His cool demeanor and blatant recklessness piqued my curiosity. I eyed him up and down and wondered what his story was. He wore a thick, black leather jacket, a faded concert T-shirt, black jeans, and worn-out boots that were unlaced at the top. His dark-brown hair, a bit long in the back, looked like it hadn’t been cut in a while. Completing his rough—yet I had to admit, very alluring look— was a layer of stubble.

  Tyler stepped aside when Gabe, Captain of the football team, sauntered to the front of the pack. “You got a problem hearing?”

  Slowly the kid looked up at the large group of burly jocks who now stood in front of him. I figured he would just back off when he saw what he was up against, but to my surprise—and everyone else’s—he didn’t. He looked at the vacant spots to his left and right and spoke in a deep, but calm voice, “I don’t see your name written here.”

  Tabitha and I shot looks at each other. Like the rumbling of the tracks as a freight train approaches, we both knew what was coming: Either this kid turns tail and crawls underneath the nearest rock, or a brawl was about to break out.

  Gabe looked over the crowd that had formed. His dominance as alpha male of the high school was being challenged and he wasn’t about to let that challenge go. He squared his shoulders, pushed out his chin, and stood directly in front of the kid. “Say that to my face.”

  The kid let out a long exhale. He placed his cell phone down on top of the wall, removed his leather jacket, and then stood up.

  Justine simmered, “Ooh…” Audaciously, she ogled him up and down.

  I was surprised how tall he was. Gabe was the starting quarterback of our championship football team, yet this guy matched him in height and build. Finally getting a clear look at his face, he appeared older, like maybe he belonged in college or something. His face was handsome framed by a strong, masculine jawline. His brow was menacing, but offset by soft, brown eyes. The way he dressed—in a biker’s jacket—I expected a bunch of tattoos or piercings, but he had none that I could see. His clothes really didn’t match his demeanor at all; he stood upright, tall and strong with his feet spread apart, like someone in the military. For a moment, he looked somewhat familiar; though I couldn’t place from where. He rolled his broad shoulders, clicked his square jaw to the side, and tightened his hands into fists. It was clear—the new boy in town—wasn’t about to back down.

  The corner of his mouth curled into the slightest smirk. “Do you have a problem hearing?”

  A gasp rippled through the crowd.

  Gabe smiled, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re new here.” He looked him over again. “What’s your name?”

  “Jake. Jake Hanson.”

  “I’m assuming you have no idea who you’re talking to.”

  Jake raised one eyebrow. “Let me guess, someone who thinks he’s important.”

  Justine snorted. The jocks edged closer, but Gabe, unperturbed, waved them off. I’d known Gabe and his family since elementary school. Never one to start a fight, I was pretty sure he was about to give this new student a chance to save face.

  “It’s such a beautiful, cloudless day.” Gabe lifted his hand toward the sky. “This is where the football team sits. So why don’t you just move along?”

  “Oh, I see. The football team.” Jake smirked. “And let me guess—you’re the quarterback.”

  Gabe smiled.

  Jake looked him over. “My guess is that if you didn’t have all that pansy-ass-padding, you couldn’t take a hit.”

  “I can take a hit better than you.” Gabe looked toward the school. “But I’m not stupid enough to prove it here.”

  “Oh, really.” Jake glanced over Gabe’s shoulders at the hoard of cronies that backed Gabe up. “So when do you plan on fighting me? When I’m alone.” He glanced at the other students around him. “Or perhaps you hope to jump me in some dark alley, as soon as the rest of the football team is with you; who will, no doubt, jump in to beat the crap out of me—after you fail.”

  Gabe shook his head. “Not taking the bait, dude.”

  Jake rubbed at his chin, looked at the school, and then debated for a second. His eyes widened. Then he tilted his head and looked past Gabe.

  I wondered what he was doing.

  Jake squinted fascinated. “What the heck is that?” Jake pointed toward the back parking lot. Gabe turned to look.

  Without warning, Jake nailed him—right in the stomach—one hard, ripping sucker-punch straight to the gut. The spectators roared with excitement. I cringed.

  Gabe, who was no pampered quarterback, bent slightly but didn’t go down. Recovering quickly, he leveled a hard right, straight at Jake’s face. Jake weaved and pulled back, but the punch still connected with his body. They both let loose after that, striking each other repeatedly in the stomach, in the ribs, in the head. I winced, not liking this at all.

  Jake taunted him. “Come on, Daisy. Is that all you got?”

  “You want more?” Gabe barked as he swung away.

  Jake ducked beneath an uppercut and then looked toward the school again.

  Tyler called out from the crowd. “You hit like a mama’s boy!”

  The insult seemed to really tick Jake off. He snarled, “Don’t say anything about my mother.”

  “Up yours,” Tyler gestured.

  Jake weaved away from Gabe’s punch and stepped toward the crowd. A second later Tyler’s head snapped back as Jake’s fist smashed into his nose.

  “Hey,” Gabe snapped. “This is between you and me.”

  Tyler took his hand from his face, and recoiled at the blood. “Jerk! You’re a mother—” He was cut off when Jake nailed him square in the face again.

  After that, all hell broke loose as Gabe’s crew surged forward.

  “Jerk’s going down,” Brendon spit out.

  Jake kicked and nailed Brendon hard in the groin. Brendon wobbled and then fell to his knees.

  The sheer number of guys coming at Jake drove him back against the retaining wall. Fists flew as they all tried to get a piece of him.

  Ally gasped. “He’s taking on half the football team.”

  Justine beamed. “Yeah!”

  I shook my head. “I think he’s a glutton for punishment.”

  Melanie hopped from foot to foot. “Should we get a teacher?”

  Worried it had gone too far, and knowing the fight was out of sight of the school’s windows, I stepped on top of a bench and looked toward the side doors. To my relief, a couple of others were already banging on the glass trying to get the attention of a teacher inside.

  When I turned back, the
fight had turned gruesome. Blood began to splatter. Most of the girls had to look away.

  Jake kept up the trash talk, which only annoyed Gabe and his crew more. Emboldened by Jake’s defiance, a couple of lanky freshmen joined in the melee. The fight continued to escalate as a potent mix of male sweat and testosterone drove the mayhem onward.

  As the lopsided brawl moved closer to the edge of the terrace, I shook my head in disgust. Stupid boys.

  Tabitha’s hand covered her mouth. “Simplicity, somebody’s going to get seriously injured.”

  Jake let out a flurry of punches. Two boys stumbled backward. A large group of football players surged forward. Someone grabbed Jake’s arm and pulled it, and him, down to the ground. One of several fists launched at Jake’s face connected with the side of his head. I heard a high-pitched crack—that sounded like a bone had snapped—and then Jake crumpled.

  I freaked.

  Through the mix of arms and legs, his gaze caught mine and our eyes briefly locked; then his body slumped to the ground.

  Oh, crap!

  I surged forward with reckless determination. “That’s enough,” I yelled.

  I looked toward the side doors again, but saw no teachers coming. “Stop!” I screamed, but the fight had grown so out of control I couldn’t be heard above the ruckus. I shoved my way behind Gabe and grabbed for his arm, but it was no use; I might as well have been trying to stop a baseball bat in mid-swing. Frantically, I pounded on Gabe’s massive back, trying to stop him, but he was oblivious.

  Damn it!

  I don’t know exactly what it was: the sad, defeated look in Jake’s big, brown eyes; my fear that it had gone too far and somebody was seriously injured; or those monthly, raging female hormones that wanted to make every male on the planet suffer, but whatever it was that caused me to tilt, I tilted—in a big way. I grabbed one of the metal covers off a nearby trashcan, took aim, and swung straight for the leader of the mob—Gabe.

  “What the—” was the last thing I heard just before the metal reverberated off his skull.

  More punches flew and I stumbled forward—swept up into the free-for-all like a chickpea in a mosh pit. Pushed and elbowed, I became a human pinball as I ricocheted through the chaos.

  Jake—who’d looked like he was on death’s doorstep all of a sudden came alive. He grabbed one boy and used him like a battering ram as he drove everyone away from me. He snagged me around the waist and placed me up against the wall putting himself between me and the rest of the brawl.

  “Stay behind me,” he barked.

  Trapped against the terrace wall and unsure what to do now, I held up the lid from the trashcan to shield myself from the fight. This turned out to be a horrible mistake. Tyler rushed forward and grabbed Jake. Jake twisted and threw Tyler to the ground, while Gabe—who wanted to retaliate against his unknown assailant—who now hid behind the garbage cover—let one hard right uppercut fly. The punch flew up and under the lid, connecting full-force with my jaw. The pop of my mouth as it slammed shut, felt like fireworks going off in my head. Everything flashed bright white for a second as I spun back toward the top of the wall, and then, blacked out.