Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) by Rachel Leigh (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

“We’re done,” he nods, “go get some sleep.”

With squinted eyes of confusion, I leave. That was really weird. He didn’t make any sexual innuendos, and he even tried to reassure me where the rumors were concerned. These guys are so damn confusing, but the more I get to know them, the more I’m starting to realize that they have some depth beneath the surface.

When I reach the top of the stairs, I walk toward my bedroom door. My bedroom. I never would have guessed that I’d refer to anything in this house as mine. Unease ripples through me when I notice that the door is ajar, though Talon is still right where I left him. Bending over, I stick his phone into his pocket like nothing ever happened. I struggle with whether or not I should try and wake him now, but it’s probably best to just leave him and let him think that he passed out like this.

I shut the door behind me then strip off my clothes. Stepping into a pair of fuzzy pink pajama pants and pulling on a plain black t-shirt, I look at him again. My heart catches fire at the sight and I find myself on my knees at his side.

I wonder what the story is behind these scars. From the looks of them, it’s not a pleasant one. My finger trails featherlike over the rough edges and my breath stills. He’s so beautifully broken. Everything about his shell is perfect, even his scars. They’re a reminder to the world that he’s been through hell. It’s the ones on the inside—the ones the world can’t see—that serve as a reminder for only him. Those are the painful ones. I know; I have my own. Stretching over, I grab a blanket off of the bed and cover him up. For whatever reason, I press a gentle kiss to his forehead and whisper, “I’m sorry it had to be this way.”

My head is still in a fog from drinking and sheer exhaustion, and I can’t wait to climb into this bed and chase away reality. With only a flat sheet, since I gave Talon the blanket, I wrap it around me and settle in on my stomach.

Just as I’m about to drift away to another world, the door opens and light from the hall breaks through. A tall, dark figure appears, then disappears when the door shuts. Only, he’s not on the other side, he’s in my room.

Holding my breath, I listen for a sound that indicates where he is. It’s when the mattress shifts and a hand slaps over my mouth that fear ensues. I gasp and squirm to get free, but he’s strong. Much stronger than I am.

“Surprise, Little Thorn,” he whispers in my ear. His words roll off his tongue sweetly and innocently, but they are laced with bad intentions. Zed isn’t sweet. He’s acidic and pungent, and I know that me going to sleep with a smile intact is not his end game.

His face is so close to mine that I can feel the brush of his skin on my cheek. My breath hitches, and my pulse races as I remain completely still. Zed’s finger trails up my neck and around to my face as he traces the outline of my lips. Sweeping my hair to the side, he rests his chin on my shoulder. The full weight of his body is on my back as he lies flat against me. “Talon’s in here. He’ll wake up, and he’ll be pissed,” I say with no attempt to hush my voice.

“Talon. Talon. Talon. It’s always fucking Talon. He’s asleep, which you already know.” His breath smells like cinnamon mixed with whiskey. “Don’t you know that you should never drug a druggie.”

Every fiber of my being is pulled out of me in that instant. Dizziness ensues and I feel like I just stepped off a merry-go-round while I’m still lying down. “He’s ok. Isn’t he?” I manage to choke out. It completely slipped my mind that Talon used to be addicted to pills. I have no idea what kind of pills, but if I would have thought for a fucking second, I would have realized that this was not the best approach.

“He’ll be fine.” He brushes it off like it’s no big deal. “And, it gives us a chance to get to know one another, without him breathing down your neck.” Cold air hits me, sending goosebumps down my arms. “Tonight, you get me.”

“Can we turn on the light, please? I can’t see you.”

“What are you afraid of? Monsters? Ghosts?”

“Something like that.”

“Ya know, when I was a kid, my dad once told me that it’s not the things you can’t see that you should fear. It’s the things you can. My dad is also fucked in the head, so I would take what he says with a grain of salt. But, I always took it as him saying, ‘be careful who you trust. Your best friend could also be your enemy.’”

The light of his phone flicks on right in front of my face. “You have to be careful who you let inside—your head, your heart, your pussy, and your room. Because the world can see this and all it takes is one little peak and we want the whole package.” He taps play on a video. Not just any video.

It’s me.

In this room.

Nausea returns with a vengeance. I don’t respond. I just stare straight at the phone with my hands pressed firmly at my sides. Consumed with thoughts of nothingness. Unable to wrap my head around any of this.

“How did you get that video?” My words rattle, and it mimics my trembling body.

“Be careful who you trust,” he repeats the words he said only seconds ago.

Your best friend could also be your enemy. 

Talon is far from someone I’d consider to be a friend, but I felt a connection with him. In