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

he left the imprint of his fingers. Feeling like I’m on the verge of a breakdown, I choke, “Was that his phone?”

“Yes. And you just threw it in the fire. You just got rid of evidence shortly after you two exchanged text messages.” Talon tsks. “Did you really have to threaten him like that?”

“Threaten him? Is that what you made it look like?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What was the point? His phone is gone. I can delete the messages from mine.” Turning on my phone, I begin scrolling to the conversation. Without even reading it, I delete the message.

“You can delete whatever the hell you want, but if you think that forensics can’t retrieve your phone records, then welcome to the twenty-first century, babe.” He slaps his hand to my back.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, with a hushed voice. Dropping my head down, I shake it slowly. “I told you that I didn’t plan on telling anyone anything.”

“You’re right. You’re not.” Zed comes to my side, hooking an arm around my shoulder. “C’mon, let's get you a drink.” He begins leading me back toward the house. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch Talon watching us with fire behind his stare.

Following Zed’s lead, we walk back into the dark building. As soon as we escape the orange glow of the fire, the unnerving feeling returns. Chills wash over every inch of my body. Being in this place—being here with them—feels sinister. My mind is in a constant state of fight or flight.

“Zed, I know we barely know each other.” I turn toward him as we step into a small room to the left of the back exit. He flicks on a small flashlight that he must have had in his pocket. “If you could just let me go home. We can all pretend this never happened. Please, I’m begging you.”

A smirk grows on his face–a menacing one that’s laced with intention. He trails his index finger down the side of my cheek then traces it along the center where my lips meet. I hold my breath, trying not to take in the smell of stale cigarettes on his skin. “Maybe,” he watches my lips while he speaks, “but, what are you gonna do for me?” His eyes slide up, meeting mine as his finger presses aggressively between my lips. I clench my teeth shut quickly, not allowing him in any farther, but his other hand grips my jaw, prying my mouth open.

“Stop!” I demand, with my jaw locked from his hold on me. I try to squirm away, but he only presses harder, keeping me in place. With my lips in the shape of an O, he slides his finger in slow and smooth. I squeeze my eyes shut and try not to gag on the metallic taste.

“We can’t let those pretty lips go to waste. I bet you know how to work them.” My eyes pop open at his words. He continues to slide his finger in and out of my mouth, watching it like some sort of fucking psycho. “Show me how you work them, Little Thorn.”

Bringing my knee up, hard and fast, I nail him right in his balls, feeling his hard cock hit the bone of my knee. In a swift motion, his hands drop and cup his crotch. “You fucking whore!”

Attempting to reach for me, I move faster. Running behind him and out of the room into the dark. My body crashes violently into something, or rather someone. “Where do you think you’re going?” Talon wraps his hand around my wrist and begins pulling me down the hallway, away from Zed. Thank God. Who knows what that guy would have done to me if Talon hadn’t shown up.

Who knows what Talon will do to me now that he has me.

With his fingers like claws around my wrist, he leads me down the dark hall. “What did he do?” Talon asks, point-blank.

“He didn’t do anything,” I snap, jerking from his reach and walking with hurried steps in front of him. “Like you’d care if he did.” I have no idea where I’m going. I can’t see a damn thing. But hearing his footsteps thud against the wooden floor behind me reassures me that he’ll catch me before he lets me fall to my death.

For whatever reason, I have a purpose with these guys. They know I’m not telling anyone that they killed Josh. They could let me go—but they won’t.

Face planting into a wall, I gasp. “Son of a bitch.” My hands cup my nose, then dab around to feel for blood.

Laughter rolls behind me as Talon finds humor in my pain. “You ready to stop trying to be so damn tough and let me lead the way?” A beam of light shines in front of me when Talon turns on his flashlight.

“No!” Stretching my hands out in front of me, I walk slowly. Noticing an open door swaying back and forth, curiosity gets the better of me. “Is someone in there?” I whisper.

“Let’s find out.” He brushes past me and heads for the open door. I don’t know why, but I follow him. What better way to scare the hell out of yourself on Halloween night than to walk through a haunted asylum housed with the dead—though, it seems the living ones I’m stuck with are the ones doing the haunting.

Sticking close to Talon’s back, ready to reach out if need be, I follow him down a case of raggedy stairs. Reaching my hand out, I take hold of the back of his shirt, balling it in my fist. When we reach the bottom, he flashes the light in the center of the room.

“What the hell?” I draw out. “Is that a swing?” Stepping closer, I get a better look at the fixture hanging from the ceiling. It’s some sort of wooden crate without a top attached to a pole with straps inside of it.

“Back in the day, this was used