The Trouble with You (Rixon Raiders 1)

“Yeah.” I smiled, taking another drink from my cup. It was only punch, the bitter aftertaste of liquor barely noticeable.

“Toby is cute.” She grinned. “Shame he’s the cousin of the Eagles QB.”

“Hush,” I hissed, scanning the kitchen for any signs of him. “They can’t know who I am, not yet.”

“And if they find out?” She gave me a disapproving glance.

“They won’t.”

Flick looked ready to argue when explosions rang out around us. People started screaming and all hell broke loose. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me down behind the counter as blood pounded between my ears.

“What the hell is that?” Flick trembled as the loud pops continued to rain down on the house. “Gunshots?” She shrieked.

“No way,” I said, breathlessly, my heart lodged in my throat. It was Rixon East, people didn’t get shot here. But it sure as hell sounded like a gun fight.

“Motherfuckers,” someone roared, and a group of guys in red and white jerseys rushed through the kitchen and out of the back door. The air smelled like bonfire, a smoky haze hanging in the air as I peeked over the top of the counter.

Flick gripped my arm. “Hails, what the—”

“Do you really think they would be out there if it was gun fire?”

“It’s firecrackers,” someone said, and my head whipped around to a guy who was moving closer to the windows. “My brother uses them all the time.”

More people came into the kitchen, curiosity getting the better of them. I shrugged Flick off and went to the back door.

“Hailee, what the—” I pushed it open and stepped outside. The noise had stopped now but there was a group of guys fighting on the Thatchers’ sprawling lawn.

“Oh, shit,” someone yelled. “Fight.”

People streamed out of the house eager to see whatever was going down. But when my eyes landed on Jason and Asher in amongst the brawl, I gasped. “Jason, what the hell?”

My step-brother’s eyes snapped to mine just as one of the Rixon East guys landed a punch right on his jaw. His head snapped back, blood spraying into the air. “Jason!” My voice rang out across the yard as I pushed my way through the growing crowd.

“Wait,” Toby said from somewhere behind me. “You know him?”

“Something like that,” I murmured, watching as Jason fought off two guys while Asher got a handle on the third. “He’s my step-brother.” My voice was quiet as I forced out the words.

“Oh, shit,” he said scrubbing his jaw. “I had no idea.”

Why would he?

Jason lived in the limelight, not me. And he was a Ford, where I was a Raine. Unless you knew us, you would never put one and one together and come up with two.

The guys were circling one another now, the crowd amped up and bloodthirsty. One of the guys advanced on Jason but I yelled, “Stop.”

Without thinking, I rushed into the circle and stood in front of him, using myself as a shield. “Move, Raider bitch,” the guy spat, a nasty bruise forming around his eye. “Before I—”

“Back off, Thatcher, that’s my sister. Do you really want to start something you know we’ll finish?”

The guy—Lewis Thatcher—glared at me, his eyes sparking with interest as he rubbed his jaw. He was a mean looking guy: tall, built, with sharp eyes, and short spiked hair. But I was stuck on the part where Jason had called me his sister.

He’d never called me his sister before, not unless it came hand in hand with an insult.

“You’ve got five minutes to get the fuck out of here.” Lewis Thatcher’s shoulders relaxed as he stepped back, his friends doing the same.

“Flick?” I beckoned for her to come to me as she stood on the edge of the crudely formed circle, tears collecting at the corners of her eyes. “Let’s go,” I said, wrapping an arm around her.

Jason wiped his mouth. He looked wild, his eyes simmering with anger, blood smeared over his lip, hair disheveled. Asher didn’t look much better. The two of them tipped their heads at Lewis Thatcher and his friends before slowly backing up. “Hailee, you and Felicity go wait down by Asher’s Jeep.”