Her Brawlers: A high school bully romance (Bad Boys of Jameson High Book 2)

by Taylor Blaine

  She looked like she was trying to find a way to escape. But escape what? We were safe there.

  Tiny had information about Gray’s mom. Why wasn’t she staying out there and asking him? Tiny always acted weird and suspicious. It was part of his personality. He was paranoid about everyone. He’d even once held a gun on me when I’d walked in on him counting cash. I think I was twelve, but he’d assumed I was after his money.

  While it was a lot of cash, there were more important things in life.

  Tiny led Gray down the hallway, still within earshot but I turned to Gunner and cocked my head to the side. “What happened? Do you guys know what changed?”

  “Something’s not right. She’s scared.” Brock folded his arms where he sat on the couch, keeping his voice low to match mine. He stared in the direction Tiny and Gray had gone in.

  Gunner pushed from the couch, moving to stand where he could see down the hallway. He stared as if waiting for a sign that something wasn’t right. He muttered from the side of his mouth. “Gray doesn’t get scared for no reason.”

  She didn’t. If anyone had a pair of balls, it was that girl – figuratively, not literally. If she was scared, then something was seriously wrong.

  Gunner watched as Tiny walked back into the room, all smiles. We let go of our somber attitudes and I jerked my chin from the easy chair I’d claimed. “Is Gray okay?”

  “She’s tired, but she seems fine.” Tiny raised his eyebrows. “She’s been through a lot. We’ll have to make sure not to feed her pizza tonight.” He smirked as he moved into the kitchen, his back to us.

  How did he know about the pizza? Gray had barely mentioned it to me in passing. I glanced in alarm at Brock and Gunner, but smoothed my features when Tiny stuck his head back out from the kitchen. “Do you guys like burgers. I know I said French toast, but burgers sounds so much more satisfying.” He waved his hand with a two-pronged fork in his grasp. “Psh, what am I asking. You guys like anything edible, am I right?” He studied us each in turn and laughed just a moment too late as he disappeared into the kitchen.

  My chest tightened in alarm. We couldn’t leave. Not yet. Not without giving Tiny a heads up that we knew something wasn’t right. We had to play things off until we could get away. Since we’d gone to Tiny’s place to get information, we couldn’t leave until we had it.

  If Gray was scared at Tiny’s and Tiny knew about her only being fed pizza, had he been a part of the last week’s torture?

  Gunner stared at me, his brown eyes so like his dad’s it left me feeling like I’d let him down somehow. My Uncle Hunter had always held us to a higher standard. He said he knew of our potential and he expected better from us.

  Had I let him, and my dad, down by getting mixed up in the things I’d taken on? Selling a premiere marijuana in an area that was right next to a legalized state wasn’t easy. We’d taken a product that had become common place, sold on every corner in the neighboring state, and made it more elegant, more necessary, more worth the higher price tag. With the higher demand and lower supply, we charged premium prices that set our town up with income that it hadn’t seen since the silver mining days.

  Would my dad be disappointed in the direction I’d taken? I’d seen a need and I’d tried to fill it. There wasn’t a lot of need in a town like Jameson. Not anymore. But if we could pull people over from other towns, then we’d bring their economy to us. That had been the idea behind it, anyway.

  I leaned forward, my feet shifting into place as I braced my elbows on my knees. Clasping my hands together, I stared above my hands toward the carpet that was only a few feet in front of me.

  Pots and pans clinked and moved in the kitchen. I couldn’t tell if he was staging the situation while planning something else or if he actually didn’t have his paranoid switched on. Tiny poked his head in again, his brow furrowed as he studied us each in turn. “Hey, what’s going on? You guys are acting weird. Normally, you’re more talkative than this.”

  I shook my head and stood, smoothing my hands down the back of my pants, feeling for my phone. I had it, but I left it in my pocket. “No. It’s actually… I’m still in shock from being shot and watching Sergio die in front of me. I’d never…” I actually let the memories of the night before flood me. I needed the moment more real and I hadn’t faced the situation yet.

  Tiny’s suspicion faded and he stepped more fully into the doorway. “Aw, man, that sucks. Yeah, I remember my first one, too. That’s… You never forget the first dead person you’re around or the first time you kill someone. It’s something that burns itself in your mind.” He shook his head, then waved a spatula at me. “Well, keep your head up. I didn’t kill you like I could’ve and Sergio had it coming. That’s all that matters.” He winked and turned back into the kitchen. “Come set the table and someone go get that pretty girl so we can eat something.”

  I looked at Gunner and Brock. If I went in the back, she might not talk to me, not to mention I didn’t want to spark anything with Tiny suspecting something was going on.

  I moved into the kitchen, pointing at Brock. “You get drinks. Gunner, why don’t you grab Gray, find out what she wants to drink.” He would get what I wasn’t saying. Find out what she knows. That’s the only way we could know for sure.

  Brock and I made our way into the kitchen. I opened the fridge, pulling out the orange juice carafe that seemed to be a staple at Tiny’s as long as I knew him.

  He preferred paper plates for meals where utensils weren’t needed. Hamburgers would be served with chips. It wasn’t the first time we’d eaten at his place. I hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

  A black raven flew by the kitchen window, the movement sudden and almost too fast to recognize the bird’s shape.

  Tiny jumped, pressing his back against the wall and holding his hands tight against his sides. Grease dripped from the end of the spatula onto the floor. He stared at us with wide eyes, the whites large and adding an eerie bend to his expression.

  Brock ducked, peeking out the window, then turning back to Tiny. “Tiny, it’s just a raven. Are you okay?”

  “What’s going on? You seem jumpy.” I set the orange juice with paper cups on the table and faced him, careful to only allow concern on my face and not the simmering anger I worked to control. I didn’t know what was wrong with Gray, but Tiny had played a part. I could almost guarantee it.

  Tiny relaxed his stance enough to move toward the stove, ignoring the mess at his feet. He probably didn’t realize he’d dripped grease on the linoleum.

  He cleared his throat, keeping his back to us. “Yeah, well, you would be, too, if you caught word that the Romanovs and Ivanovs in Sergio’s circle were onto you. I think they know it was me but they don’t know it was Vlasi who purchased the kill.” He finally smiled tightly over his shoulder at us. “I can’t help being good at what I do. It’s a curse, you know?” He lacked truth in his eyes, which set me on edge.

  “Yeah, I have no doubt.” I shifted my weight to my left side, leaning on the counter as I braced myself with my elbow. I needed to appear comfortable without triggering his instincts. “What were you doing in Timbercreek, anyway? You hate Washington.” I said it with a teasing grin.

  He flipped a patty and then faced me; his face emotionless. “I had to pick up a job. No big deal. Did you guys see the new mustard I found? This one will definitely singe your nose hairs.” He nodded toward the fridge. That was the end of the conversation about that topic. He couldn’t have made it clearer and I wasn’t stupid enough to pursue it.

  Tiny didn’t define the job he was there to pick up and he hadn’t left it open to get more information. Hopefully, we could get the information about Gray’s mom before we left.

  My gut was telling me it was time to get the hell out of there. Another lesson from my dad was to listen to my intuition. It would rarely let a person down, if they paid attention. My instinct was to run before anything else could happen to us. My heart told me to hang on. Tiny was family. You didn�
��t walk out on family without giving them a chance to explain.

  You just didn’t.

  I had to believe in that. If I didn’t, then where would the Jamesons be?

  Gray

  I paced the room Tiny had taken me to. The space wasn’t more than ten by ten with a small trundle style bed with no headboard or sides. It barely came off the ground more than half a foot. The blanket on it was dusty and lumpy and there was no way I was touching it.

  Plastic Rubbermaid bins stacked five and six high along the wall by the window. I unstacked the ones directly in front of the frame. If I could slide the pane open and climb out to get to the truck, my life would have gotten so much easier.

  But, hot damn, the window was boarded shut.

  The hopes I’d harbored shattered in a million pieces, sprinkling little spots of pain throughout my chest and abdomen.

  I closed my eyes a moment before taking a deep breath and reopening them. I’d figure it out. I could. He hadn’t said anything to me as he’d left me in there, almost as if he knew something and didn’t want to give it away.

  Hopefully, he didn’t suspect that I knew what he’d done. My hands shook as I restacked the bins, probably not in order, but I didn’t care enough to double-check.

  I returned to pacing. Breaking the glass was an option, but could I do it without being heard?

  A knock came on the door. I jumped to the side, pressing my back against the accordion-style doors of the closet. My chest rose and fell and I gripped my fingers into tight fists.

  They didn’t wait for me to reply. Instead, in a second, Gunner opened the door and stood in the room, closing the panel behind him.

  He turned to me, searching my face and holding his hands out at waist level. He glanced toward the door and then back to me. “Gray, are you okay?”

  I couldn’t hide my fear. Not in that moment. I was too raw from discovering the truth around Tiny and having to pretend to be something I wasn’t around him. What did I have to lose?

  If Gunner, Brock, and Stryker were aware of what Tiny had done, then they were as bad as him and they had a similar goal. But what if, just what if, they didn’t know?

  I folded my arms across my chest to keep my panic contained and not give away my shaking hands and wrists. I shook my head, tears welling in my eyes. “No.”

  Gunner approached slowly, genuine concern furrowing his brow and turning the edges of his mouth down. “Tell me what’s going on. Stryker thinks something’s off. He sent me in here. He’s in trying to get information out of Tiny.”

  Stryker didn’t know. At least according to one of his faithful cousins. I wasn’t sure what to believe. The look on Gunner’s face though would be hard to pretend.

  I threw myself into his arms, his strong embrace promising not to let anything get me. There was nothing sexual as he held me like a brother. I gathered control of my breathing, even as my heart slammed into my chest over and over.

  “What happened?” Gunner’s voice was even lower, his mouth very near my ear.

  I inhaled deeply, careful to keep my own volume very low. “There was a third man where I was… held. I never saw his face. I heard his voice though. I remember it. He was there. I couldn’t place why it was familiar, but when I heard Tiny’s voice…” I clamped my lips shut. I didn’t want to say anything else. I couldn’t. There was a point of no return and I had a feeling I was dangerously close to it.

  “He mentioned pizza when he was talking about you. Something about making sure not to feed you pizza. Does that mean anything?” Gunner pushed me back a little bit to study my face.

  I nodded, a band of restriction tight around my chest. “Yes, Blaze fed me only pizza the last two days I was there. Cold, stale pizza. I think I only mentioned that to Stryker last night or maybe this morning and barely in passing.” So, either Tiny had been there, confirming my identification, or Stryker had told him which I doubted was possible since he’d been with me since the moment he’d gotten back to the bunker. He’d even slept with me, holding me close throughout the night.

  Gunner nodded, his expression grave. “We thought it might be something like that. Okay, I need to get that information to Stryker. He’s not going to want to stay here tonight. He knows you need the info about your mom, but I don’t know how long he’ll want to keep you in danger. He’s pretty protective of you.”

  Gunner’s words brought no small amount of comfort. I could feel the panic easing in my chest followed by a growing guilt that I’d even questioned Stryker. Even when he’d picked on me, he hadn’t been as mean as he could have been. He’d been protective even then.

  “I need you to put on a friendly face. Act like you just needed some time to yourself. Pretend. Eat something, talk, laugh, whatever. We need that information and then we’re going to get out of here. Got it? Can you do that?” He searched my face as if the decision rested in me.

  But I knew that wasn’t possible. When had anything ever rested with me?

  I nodded, though. It wasn’t Gunner’s fault that a family friend had turned into more of a fiend.

  I wiped under my eyes with the sides of my fingers, fluffing my hair and adjusting my clothes. Pasting a smile on my lips, I followed Gunner. When we got a few feet from the door to the kitchen, I laughed, pushing at Gunner’s shoulder when we walked into the kitchen. “You’re so funny.”

  Glancing around the room, I couldn’t help noticing Tiny sneaking small peeks at me and then at his watch. We were on a timeline and no one had let me know. I had a feeling no one else knew.

  I needed to get Stryker’s attention, but then what? Tiny would know what I was saying. There was no way out of there. Not when we had a deadline ahead of us.

  I avoided Stryker’s searching gaze. He couldn’t know anything was wrong. Not until I had a plan figured out. Tiny’s obsession with his watch while looking at me was more information than I needed. I didn’t want to be there when his clock read the time he waited for.

  Tiny motioned for us to take our seats. I claimed one beside Stryker, still avoiding his gaze but grateful to have his strength and presence near.

  An awkward silence stretched around the room. I shifted on my hard wood seat and smiled at Tiny as he brought in the hamburger patties. “This all looks amazing, Tiny. Thank you.” I motioned toward the Jameson cousins. “The guys tell me you knew their dads. How did you meet?”

  Tiny’s eyes widened and he took his own seat across from Stryker. Flashing an encompassing smile around the table, Tiny inclined his head at the question. “We served together in the desert. You learn things about people when you serve with them. I learned about them, their families, their town, all of it. Everything was amazing.” He reached for a bun from the stack in a plastic bag on the table beside him. Motioning toward the rest of the food on the table, he looked at the boys. “Dig in, fellas.”

  Tiny looked at me again, studying me as if he’d seen me before. I knew he had, so it didn’t surprise me that he thought so. “I came here for… well, for Hunter’s funeral. I’d only been back on leave for a week and I was contemplating whether I go back or not. I saw the boys at the service, standing beside their grandmother and I knew I had to move here in case they needed help.”

  I leaned my chin on my open palm and offered a side smile. “That is sweet of you. I bet they’re grateful for you.”

  Cheeks pinkening, Tiny shook his head. “No, if anything, I’m grateful for them. Did you want a burger, Gray? I can’t imagine you’d want anything resembling pizza.” He laughed like we all got the joke.

  I tilted my head to the side, accepting the bun Brock handed me on my left. “How did you know about the pizza, Tiny?”

  The table fell silent as everyone stopped dishing up and dressing their burgers. Tiny slowly set the ketchup he used back on the table and raised his eyes to mine. “Stryker told me on the phone. Was I not supposed to know that?” He glanced between Stryker and me and the rest of the boys, devoid of any guilt in his innocence.


  I shook my head, ignoring the chill in my stomach. Pointing the bun top in my hand toward a bag of chips, I replied. “No, not a big deal. I’m just surprised he remembered that part. He was pretty tired himself when I told him.”

  “Are you guys dating now or something?” Tiny changed the subject, his eyes flicking between me and Stryker, back and forth as if he blamed us for something. A tightening in his features would have seemed like jealousy, but that didn’t make sense. Who would he be jealous of? Stryker or me?

  I laughed before Stryker could say anything. “No. Stryker doesn’t like me much. I think all of them see me as too much of an outsider.”

  “Being an outsider is rough. I get it.” Tiny lifted his stacked burger and claimed a bite.

  I looked down at my plate, working on making something I had no intention of eating.

  Stryker finally interjected into the conversation; his mouth half-full as if he were trying to keep things normal. “Tiny, we’re thinking about not staying. We have a ton of stuff to deal with and if the Russians are after you, it might be better for all of us to get off your place.”

  That was the first time I’d heard of the Russians being after Tiny.

  Maybe they found out he was a double agent as well.

  Chapter 21

  Gray

  Tiny shook his head, wiping his mouth with a napkin he pulled from the holder in the center of the table. “No, you can’t leave yet. Plus, I only think the Russians are after me. I don’t know it with a certainty.” He chomped on a chip, as if he hadn’t just glanced at the clock on the wall for the ninth time since he’d sat down.

  We must be getting close.

  How long had we been there that the sun was starting to set? The time of year lent itself to early nightfall. Dusk had fallen and I snuck a peek at Stryker, trying to understand his expression as if he weren’t trying to convince Tiny that everything was normal. All of us were.