Broken Hill Hurt (Broken Hill High 3)

I let out a sigh and study him for a moment. I don’t know why and I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but one minute I’m looking up at Jackson Millington, the guy who has caused so many problems over the last few months, the next, I’m letting him lead me away.

I guess I really am being reckless.

Chapter 16

Jackson leads me towards a black Charger that has a group of guys from Haven Falls leaning up against it. Each and every one of them look me up and down as though I’m about to open my legs for them and put on a show.

My heart rate starts to pick up again as I take in the four big guys before me. What the hell have I gotten myself into now? We’re far away from the rest of the crowd so I doubt anyone would hear me if I screamed. I just had to be a reckless idiot and follow Jackson Millington. I should have known better.

It hits me that this is the Charger that pulled into the gas station the other day and started a fight with Nate and Jesse. There’s no doubt these guys would remember me. After all, I got myself involved and probably gouged some claw marks in a few of their arms.

One of the guys pushes up off the Charger and looks at me with a dirty leer. He licks his lips and looks me up and down. “Who do we have here?”

“Fuck off, Rocko,” Jackson says. “She’s mine.”

I go to correct him but the look he shoots me tells me to keep my mouth shut.

Rocko puts two hands up and steps back. “Hear ya, loud and clear.”

“Piss off then,” Jackson tells them all. “I’m out of here.”

The group of guys push themselves away from the Charger and Jackson walks forward, pulling me along with him. He leads me to the passenger’s side, opens the door and helps me in before heading around to the other side.

Not once do the eyes of the four guys leave me.

Jackson starts up the car and takes off down the dirt road. “Um… care to explain what the hell that was about?”

“What do you mean?”

“’She’s mine’,” I say, mimicking his deep voice.

“Had no choice,” he grunts. “He would have kept trying if he thought otherwise, and I have a feeling Rocko isn’t the kind of guy you’d be letting in your pants.”

“Got that right,” I grumble.

“Though,” he continues. “The kind of guys you would allow is kinda questionable.”

“Excuse me?” I grunt.

“You’ve been sleeping with Nate Ryder. He’s not exactly known as a good little boy.”

I can’t help the scoff that comes flying out of my mouth. “And you think you’re any better?”

“Hey,” he says in defense. “I was just pointing out a fact.”

I ignore his comment and look around the Charger. “Whose car is this?” I question.

“Mine,” he says, looking across at me. “My last one got a new look that I’m not too fond of.”

My lips lift into a proud grin. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shakes his head but continues on. “My old man wasn’t too impressed with what happened and refused to buy me a new one until he realized he’d have to drive my ass around everywhere.”

I look over at him. “You never ratted out Nate.”

“Why would I?” he tells me. “It would have only caused more problems. My parents would have been all over me anytime I wanted to go out, and besides, he was right; an eye for an eye.”

I nod my head before leaning it back against the headrest. “You know, he worked his ass off on that car.”

“Figured,” he says. “A guy like Nate doesn’t go around showing off a car like that if he wasn’t proud of it.” He lets out a breath. “Would you believe me if I said I never intended for that to happen?”

“No,” I scoff, not needing even a second to think about it.

“It’s true,” he tells me. “Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to scratch the shit out of it, but I never intended for him to spin out. It’s the only time I’ve ever felt like a real asshole.”

“Really?” I scoff again. “I find that hard to believe.”

I find myself hearing his words over and over again in my head. I don’t know why, but something is pulling deep within me, telling me to believe him. I mean, who would intentionally go out to get another person involved in a major car wreck? But scratching the shit out of his car? Now, that I can believe.

He rolls his eyes and gives me a sideways glance before focusing back on the road.

“Why are you doing this?” I question, studying him with a deep curiosity.

He looks over at me again, only this time, his usual confidence is gone, replaced with a vulnerable confusion. “What do you mean? Driving you to this party?”