Glass Heart Hero: A Dark High School Romance Lindsey Iler (mobi ebook reader .txt) đź“–
- Author: Lindsey Iler
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“You have me here, now what?” I ask, moving toe-to-toe with Tripp.
He chuckles this manic, disconnected laugh, so I rear back, then smash my fist into his jaw. His cronies inch towards me, while Dixon and Marek move the girls behind us, building a wall in the middle of the bridge.
“I’m okay!” Tripp exclaims, calling off his dogs. “You’re here, Breaker, to prove that mental health isn’t exactly your strength.”
“Get to the fucking point.” I roll my finger in his face, wishing an impossible task for time to run faster.
“But I suspect you know it’s not your thing, considering your mother’s own battle with the demons in her head.” Tripp’s face settles into his enjoyment, silently boasting about what he’s doing. “Tick, tick, boom, right, Breaker?”
“Fuck you!” I shout.
“It wasn’t that hard to find out what happened on this very bridge. You’d think your rich-ass father would be smart enough to bury it, but he doesn’t seem to care, but you already know that. He abandoned you and those two precious bundles of joy.” Tripp runs his finger under my chin, testing me. “It seems to be a trend in your life, huh? Being left. It’s hard being unlovable.”
“That’s it, I’m fucking killing him.” Dixon presses forward. I hold my arm out, blocking him. “No chance on this fucking earth I’m going to let a prick like Tripp DuPont talk to any of us like that.”
“Calm down.” Tripp looks at Dixon like he believes he’s trash.
“I’m going to fuck your sister,” Dixon threatens. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Not like I’d be the first one from this crew to lay her.”
“What did you just say?” Tripp slithers forward, ready to knock Dixon on his ass.
“You heard me.” A small hand that belongs to Reagan holds Dixon in place.
“Enough. Did we come here for this, or are you going to tell us why you dragged us out into the middle of nowhere?” I intervene.
“Oh, that’s right. The gauntlet.” He wheels around to address the crowd that is primarily made up of Hollow Hill students. “The whole reason why we’re here. Everyone, follow me.”
I glance at Marek and Dixon. Dread and mistrust seep from them. The air is thick with it, nearly choking me. When we reach the edge of the suspension bridge, on instinct, everyone looks over the barrier at the water. I remain far away from the crowd, listening to my heart beating like a drum inside my ear.
The onlookers go silent when Tripp raises his arm. They need to listen to their king, and their king needs them to shut the fuck up right now.
“What kind of game are you playing?” Marek shoves Tripp in the chest.
Without having to ask what this bridge means to me, Marek knows that whatever the outcome is, it won’t be good. Our demons tend to find each other, and right now, his are trying to protect mine.
“Oh, isn’t it clear?” Tripp cackles. “He’s going to jump.”
“Mom, where are we going?” I beg the question.
This place is familiar. Tall trees with darkness beyond them, line a long bumpy, dirt road. I’ve been here before, been driven down this road more than once, but not enough to know where it goes.
“I just . . . We have to . . . Shut up and let me think!” my mother screams. She’s yanking at her hair and wiping tears from her face.
Something’s wrong with her. She’s never like this. She never yells at me. What did I do? Beside me, Charlie cries, setting off a chain of sobs from Tatum. I unbuckle and search for their pacifiers, hoping to keep them calm and not make Mom angrier.
“It’s okay,” I shush them both. “You’re okay.”
“Make them stop!” Mom yells, causing Charlie and Tatum to cry harder.
“Stop yelling,” I beg.
Once the trees disappear, the car halts. Visible through the foggy window is a metal bridge.
“Stay in the car,” my mom demands. She opens the driver’s side door and climbs out into the cold. “Give this to Aunt Emily, okay, Barrett? It’s important.” She tucks the white envelope into my jacket pocket. “I love you. All three of you.”
Before I can say I love you, she is shutting the door. The car is running, heat beating through the vents, keeping us warm.
I watch through the broken spots of frost on the window as my mom walks towards the bridge. She stops in the middle of it, looking out at nothing.
I unbuckle and climb to the front, tilting the vents towards the rear seat to keep my sisters warm. When I focus on the window, my mom isn’t in the middle of the bridge. She’s moved to the edge, holding tight to the railing.
“Don’t go anywhere,” I joke, tucking the blankets snugger around Charlie and Tatum.
With my coat tight around my body, I walk across the bridge to my mom.
“What are you doing?” I ask, a shake to my voice. I want to be brave, but my head is telling me something is wrong. My heart is racing as fast as a train.
“Sweetie, get back in the car,” she says as she grips the frozen railing. Her knuckles turn into the color of my favorite vanilla soft serve ice cream. It’s too cold out here for her to be without gloves.
“Mom, I’m scared.” It’s too dark out here. I flinch when I hear sticks breaking.
“You don’t have to be scared. Get in the car and call Aunt Emily. Now, Barrett.”
At her instruction, I do what a good boy would do. I walk to the car but stop when I’m at the hood. Snow crunches, and I think I see something, but it can’t be. We’re alone. Something tells me
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