Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance by Lindsey Iler (free ebook reader for iphone .TXT) 📕

“I’m no one’s hero.”

“Tell that to Palmer. I’d bet she’d beg to differ.” Byron eyes me skeptically as if he can’t believe I’m saying what I am. “Not to mention, your incessant need to change Delaney’s world, so it’s happier and safer.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“That’s hero shit, bro,” Byron scoffs. “You swoop in when they need you because, at your core, that’s who you are. You may run with us, but you’re nothing like us, and thank fuck for that. The world doesn’t need more Mareks, Byrons, and Dixons. The world needs more Breakers.”

“We ready to go?” Delaney comes down the stairs, a leather jacket slung over her shoulder. That’s not what catches my eye, though. The way the low dip in the white tank top grazes against her skin as she moves, sets every part of me on fire. She pops up on her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek, giving me a nice, but brief view down her top.

“No bra.” I grin, reaching a single finger down her cleavage. “Nice touch.”

She runs her fingers over my brow line. “You look stressed.”

“As he should be,” Madison says, announcing her entrance. “Is this a good idea?”

“Calm down, Jailbait.” Byron leans against the doorway. His eyes take in Madison’s bare legs. “It’s a little chilly tonight. You may want to put pants on.”

“Aww. Are you worried about me, Byron?” She winks at him.

Byron pushes off the wall, pressing his chest into her back. Her eyes widen with surprise.

“You wish, Jailbait.” He lets the twisted nickname linger on his tongue longer than normal, which tells me whatever this is will be trouble.

Marek and Palmer join our little party. As we wait for Dixon and Reagan, silence takes over the space. Apprehension pulses around each of us. What if this isn’t the right move? Tripp DuPont is a couple of things, and sane isn’t at the top of the list. Especially not after I read the texts he’s sent Delaney.

There’s no lying. Tonight is as much for me as it is for Delaney and Madison. We each have something to prove, and we’ll take whatever measures we need to, if it means we accomplish it.

“Let’s go, boys.” Dixon walks into the room, excitement in his stride, circling his finger in the air to round us up.

“Ugh, excuse me.” Delaney arches a brow.

“Oh, sorry. Let’s go, boys and girls.” Dixon correcting himself for Delaney’s sake is top tier entertainment.

“I’ll meet you all there. Don’t need big brother seeing me with the enemy,” Madison announces. She reaches down and squeezes Delaney’s hand. It’s solidarity and understanding in one swift move.

We walk towards the door, but Byron goes the other way.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m going to hang behind,” he answers, waving me off. “Go prove what they already know.”

A quick check over my shoulder tells me we’re alone. “What I have planned tonight, I need someone I can trust, and someone who can pull it off. I need you.”

“What exactly are we doing tonight?” He slides his hands into his pockets.

“Do you still have your black knife?” I nod, hoping he understands what I mean.

“Are we thinking Halloween, your sophomore year?” He walks to the coat closet, slides the door open, and ducks inside to grab the knife I could describe for a painting and not leave off any detail.

“That would be the one.” I watch his fingers brush against the handle, silently admiring the design carved into the metal. “You think you’re up for it?”

“Does she know what’s coming?” Byron asks.

“It’s probably best to ask for forgiveness, instead of permission.” I slap his shoulder and shove him towards the door.

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” There’s our Byron. We’ve been getting a water-downed version of Byron Decatur. I understand why. He’s watching his movement around Palmer, trying to keep their rocky ground steady.

We get out to Marek’s Escalade and open the back door to slide inside.

“Marek, before we roll, I need to talk to Palmer,” Byron says.

“We already know the plan, By,” Palmer says, twisting in the seat to look him in the eyes. “But I appreciate you wanting to run it by me.”

“Okay, then, I guess let’s go.” Byron shuts the door. Marek stares at him through the rearview mirror and grins.

Until recently, it’s always been the four of us causing mischief, ruling our piece of the world as creators of chaos. Now that Delaney, Palmer, and Reagan have joined our group, this somehow makes sense. They’re fighting the battle alongside us, forgiving us of our shortcomings, and more than making up for them.

“You good?” Delaney leans over, pressing her cheek into my shoulder.

“Are you?” I ask. “We’ve never done this with . . .”

“What he’s trying to say is it’s different for us,” Marek intervenes.

“We’ve been a part of your messes before. In fact, I’ve been the receiving party of it,” Palmer points out.

“This is completely different. You aren’t just going to be there. You’re participating. You need to ask yourself if you’re okay with that, because if you aren’t, then you have every right to bail the fuck out,” Byron explains.

Marek stops at the gate and rolls down the window to talk to the attendant at Hollow Hill.

“Do you think this will work?” Delaney asks me, straightening her spine and spinning to face me.

“I do,” I answer honestly.

“Then I’m in.” The confidence she shows in me is astounding.

“It’s that simple for you, huh?” My hand wraps around her neck, bringing her closer to me. My hand is a collar, guiding her where I need her. She swings one leg over my lap, straddling me.

“It’s that simple.”

With that kind of answer, I squeeze her neck a little tighter. She falls into me, pressing her lips into mine. The kiss is fevered and unmatched.

“Jesus Christ.” Byron’s voice breaks the little cloud of bliss we’ve created. Delaney crawls off my lap, wiping the corner of her mouth. “You two are worse than those two.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”