Striker: A Dark Bully Romance (Redwood Rebels Book 1) Rachel Leigh (the reading list book .TXT) 📖

Tucking a chunk of Marni’s hair behind her ear, I force her scared eyes on mine. “Do you trust me?” I ask again, because last time I didn’t get the response I wanted.

“I want to.” Her voice is shaky, yet calm and collected.

“The stuff I said in the bathroom stall, that was just foreplay. Gets me going. It wasn’t my way of trying to belittle you. You know that, right?”

She nods. “I get that. I just wish you wouldn’t bring it up, especially like that.”

“Won’t happen again.”

“And Talon…” Her tongue darts out to her lips, wetting them as she prepares for what’s coming. I know that tone enough by now to know she wants something. “I won’t talk about what I walked in on last night...after this.”

My head shakes. “Don’t.”

“I need to know why?”

I drop my hands and rest my back against the seat. Staring straight ahead at the park across the street, I notice a little boy running while a golden lab chases after him. He’s eight, maybe nine years old. There’s no hiding that happiness. He looks back, feeling the security of having his parents nearby.

“I got a burn when I was a kid. Got some cuts on it. No big deal.” I lie. She looks at me with that pitiful look again. “It’s just an ugly scar. Drop it!” I can feel myself getting angrier as each second passes.

“Your scars aren’t ugly, Talon. They’re beautiful.”

I laugh. “What the hell could possibly be beautiful about a scar that spreads the length of your side and your back?”

“Because it’s yours. It’s your story. It’s your past and your redemption.” She shrugs a shoulder. “I happen to like it.”

“You wouldn’t like it if it was your story.”

“We all have scars.”

She’s still lingering between the two seats when I grab her by the waist, pick her up, and bring her over to my lap. Once she’s adjusted, with her legs wrapped around either side of me, I graze my fingers under her shirt, lifting it up and admiring her flawless skin. “Looks like a good life to me.”

“Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

Gripping both sides of her head in my hand, I press my lips to hers. Effortlessly, passionately, and totally mind-numbing.

I’m beginning to welcome that feeling that trickles through me time and time again when she’s near. The backside of her hand sweeps up and down my neck over the scratches she left behind. “Show me your scars and I’ll show you mine,” I mutter into her tantalizing mouth. She seduces me without even realizing she’s doing it.

Methadone has nothing on this girl. She’s my own personal drug, an addiction I have no intentions of detoxing.

A knock on the driver’s window startles both of us. Marni climbs off of me, and I roll down the window. “It’s showtime,” Tommy says with wide eyes.

Looking over at Marni, I search for her consent. Anything that tells me this is what she wants, even if she doesn’t. No one wants this. No one but me.

She fakes a smile. “I’m fine. Let’s do it.”

Reaching over, I fluff her hair out for her, pick a speck of fuzz off of her black shirt, and grab the lipstick from the center console that she brought. I hand it to her and she takes the top off, smearing the red wax across her lips and smacking them together.

Ignoring that fact that I’m primping the girl I’ve recently started to tolerate, which says a lot because I don’t tolerate many, I give her a once-over. A crop top that has her tits popping out of the v of her neckline. A pair of tight skinny jeans and black ankle boots that add an extra couple inches to her height. “

You’re so fucking sexy.” I lean across the center console and kiss her ruby red lips. Swiping my finger beneath her bottom lip, I wipe the excess then do the same to mine.

“There’s time for that shit later. Let’s go,” Tommy barks from the door.

“Take this.” I hand Marni my phone with the app open. “When you get to the bench just sit there and wait. He’ll message you an address. Screenshot it and send it to Tommy’s phone. When I give you the ok, walk casually over to Tommy’s car.” I point to the opposite end of the parking lot where Lars is walking toward us. “The keys will be inside. Get in and drive it out front of the bowling alley and Lars will be waiting there for you. He’ll drive you to the hotel. I’ll have my eyes on you the entire time. I promise.”

“And I won’t see you until it’s done?”

“It’s best if you aren’t there. You don’t need that shit on your conscience.”

A smile tugs her mouth upward. “I trust you.”

I don’t deserve those words. Not by a long shot. As much as I want her trust, she really shouldn’t give it to me.

Watching as she walks away, I feel a sense of relief that this is coming to an end.

“She’s gonna be fine,” Tommy reassures me, as he leans against the window.

“Yeah.” I nod. “I appreciate you coming with me. But I meant what I said, you don’t have to be there. I can do this alone. I should do this alone.”

“No. You shouldn’t.” He taps the tattoo on my forearm. “I’ve got your back.”

22

Wind gusts, causing particles of sand to pelt the bare skin of my arms. My eyes stay focused on the bench as I hug myself tightly. Nausea creeps into my stomach, and I begin to feel lightheaded. I attribute that to the extra blood flow to my heart as my beats kick into overdrive.

There are so many eyes on me right now that I’m not sure how I’ll ever be able to sit down and pretend everything is normal. It’s not just Talon, Tommy, and Lars—it’s Talon’s dad. I don’t see him, but I can feel him watching