The Trouble with You (Rixon Raiders 1)

This was fucking terrifying.

“Calm the fuck down,” someone said, but the blood pounding between my ears made it difficult to distinguish if it had been Jason or Asher or Cameron. Or someone else entirely. My heart crashed violently against my chest, making it difficult to breathe

as every possible scenario of what was about to happen flooded my mind.

“Please,” I cried. “Just stop. Just—”

A hand fixed over my mouth again, and I gasped, fighting for breath, the smell of polyester overpowering my senses. But it all stopped when I felt something move against my stomach, painting torturous patterns. Oh God. My fight response withered and died, rendering me paralyzed, as I waited for the flash of pain. But it never came as a blunt object moved over my t-shirt. Confused, and drowning in a tsunami of fear and paranoia, I let my body go completely lax as my captors began to pull me away from the wall, guiding me to who only knew where. Seconds ticked by, my legs stumbling to keep with up them. And then the world came back in an overwhelming blur of color and noise as the hood was ripped off my head.

“W- what?” I blinked rapidly, sucking in greedy lungful’s of air, as I staggered toward the sounds.

But as my vision began to settle, I realized something was wrong.

Very wrong.

I was on the fringe of the parking lot, looking out over the pep rally. And everyone was staring back at me.

Everyone.

The laughter started like a storm. The rumble of thunder far off in the distance, creeping closer with every crack of lighting. Until it was right on me; each rumble like a violent shiver up my spine, each crack like a jolt to my heart.

“Hails?” Flick pushed her way through the crowd, her eyes alight with panic. “What…” Her eyes dropped to my chest and she gasped, “Oh shit.” The color drained from her face.

My fingers reached for the hem of the tee, stretching it out so I could just make out the words. There, painted in blue pen, was the words ‘I ride Raiders for fun’.

Embarrassment burned through me, flaming my cheeks, as I met my best friend’s sympathetic gaze. “I will fucking kill him,” I ground out, not caring who could hear me.

She took a cautious step toward me. “Jason didn’t do this—”

“Of course he did,” I hissed, already searching the crowd for his smug face.

“No, he didn’t, Hails.” Something about the conviction in her voice gave me pause, and I slid my gaze to hers. “He’s been here the whole time.”

“But that’s not…”

“It is, I promise.”

Just then, I felt him. My eyes snapped up and sure enough Jason was there, in the middle of my gathered audience, his eyes hard on me. Flick was right. It couldn’t have been him.

“And Asher?” I asked, my voice shaky.

“He was right there too. I watched them cream the Eagle three times in a row.”

I didn’t know what to feel when I finally said, “And Cameron?”

“He was there at the start, but I’m not sure… I didn’t...” She sounded apologetic, and I didn’t understand. She had nothing to feel bad about. It wasn’t her fault.

“I see.” My blood turned cold.

“Come on,” she said, taking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

I let her lead me away from the whispers and stares and snickers. Jason and his douchebag friends had been mean to me for years. It was nothing new. Nothing I wasn’t already used to. But this… this was different.

And I couldn’t help but remember Cameron’s words, ‘don’t come crying to me when he ruins you’.

Cameron

“Do you need to tell me something?” Jase was blocking the door to Bell’s, hands in his pockets, suspicion glittering in his eyes. We’d headed straight here from the pep rally, but I’d driven myself instead of riding with him and Asher.