Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

in the lead, closely followed by Masen’s nimble Corvette and the green Mustang. By the end of the first lap, Masen passed Steven and sped up, putting more distance between them before the first turn.

I was amazed by Masen, who seemed to rule the track. He killed the turns, accelerating way before any of the other drivers could. I faintly remembered Hayden mentioning that Masen’s specialty was racing, which was clear as day now.

I’d also overheard him saying Masen needed cash badly, which wasn’t a surprise, because unlike Blake or Hayden, Masen didn’t come from a rich family. I doubted his father’s salary as a local TV news editor brought in a great deal of money. Then there was that boy, Eli, who needed care as a quadriplegic, and I could only imagine how much that cost.

My eyes went to Blake’s car. He was falling behind the Mustang. His Challenger oversteered at turns, which left him struggling to keep the fourth position. I was bewildered that he didn’t drive that well.

Masen had said Blake didn’t look good, and I wondered if that was because of me. Maybe my words had a bigger impact on him than I could’ve possibly guessed.

Masen ended the second, third, and fourth lap in first, but the Mustang got pretty close to him at the beginning of the final lap, almost sending Steven off the track at one of the sharper turns. Blake was struggling to stay in fourth place, until the last car managed to take his position in the middle of the lap.

Steven’s engine roared when he stepped on the gas and almost pulled ahead of the Mustang, but the Mustang’s driver swerved to block Steven and passed Masen at the last possible moment, finishing first. The crowd burst into cheers. Blake crossed the finish line last and veered to a screeching stop next to Masen’s car.

The viewers darted to the track to greet the winner, some of them taking pictures of his Mustang. The excited murmurs carried one name through the air, which I assumed was his: Bobby Q.

“It’s over,” Mel, who had been unusually quiet during the race, exclaimed in relief and grabbed my hand. “Let’s get to Steven.”

We rushed to his car, which was parked right behind Masen’s. Steven got out and hit his fist against the rooftop, baring his teeth. Mel collided with him and pulled him into a crushing embrace.

“I’m going to steal your car and sell it so you can’t race again. You scared the crap out of me!”

Steven didn’t return her hug or reply. He glared at the winner, who was now surrounded by two busty brunettes. A shiver ran down my spine when my eyes stopped on the guy’s face. He had shoulder-length raven hair, and he looked at least ten years older, with an even scarier expression than the rest.

“I could’ve won,” Steven gritted out as he separated himself from Mel. “That money should’ve been mine!”

I inhaled a sharp breath, taken aback by his hysterical tone. His scraggy face was twisted as if he was in pain, and my heart ached for Melissa. I didn’t know much about drug addicts, but I could guess the addiction messed him up real bad when he was this furious and desperate.

Mel scowled at him. “You should be happy you’re alive, you punk.”

“Knock it off, Melissa. You’re acting just like Mom, and it’s driving me nuts.”

They didn’t stop bickering, but I tuned them out as my gaze fell on Blake’s profile close by. My stomach twisted into knots at the look on his face as he stared at Bobby Q. It was hatred unlike anything I’d seen before, but there was also terror, which was further accentuated when he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Masen joined him. “What’s wrong?” I heard him ask in spite of the constant chatter and shouts around us.

“Isaac was right. It’s him.” It was hard to make out his words from this distance, but moving closer to them be dropping the ball. He nodded toward Bobby Q. “He came to the surface.”

Masen followed his gaze. “Shit. Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’m positive.” He added something else, but I couldn’t hear it.

“Do you think he knows who you are?”

I glanced at Mel and Steven, who were in the middle of their tiff and paying zero attention to me.

“Not likely…” I wasn’t able to hear the rest of his sentence. I flexed my hands, which had turned sweaty in the meantime. Blake really didn’t look good.

“Will you be able to handle him with your…? You know.”

With his what?

Blake glared. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

“So what now?” Masen asked, and I held my breath, my heart thumping harder in expectation of his answer.

“Now I finally…” The rest was lost in the roar of a nearby engine.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the cryptic conversation between Blake and Masen and the way Blake had looked after the race. He knew that driver, and everything in me told me he was in for big trouble.

It wasn’t my business. I shouldn’t even have been thinking about Blake’s fears or his mysterious words, but here I was, chewing it over again.

I shoved the thoughts of Blake aside and looked at Ms. Donovan, my choir teacher, who played piano while Shelly, a sophomore, practiced the solo she was going to perform at the school festival.

Ms. Donovan was still trying to convince me to perform a solo, assuring me I had the voice of an angel that would reach many hearts. I was totally terrified of it, but I couldn’t deny I liked the idea. Only two weeks were left until the start of the festival, and she’d said I had to make my decision by today.

Kevin nudged me with his elbow and whispered, “Marcus is, is, is watching you.”

I glanced at Marcus. He was looking in our direction from where he stood with the rest of our group across the room, but his