Storm (Elemental 1)

“Merrick!” The coach was running. Other players were running. Nick was off the bleachers and he’d grabbed his brother’s arm.

But Gabriel stood back and didn’t try to take another swing.

They were ordered off the field. All of them. The coach was so furious he was almost incoherent. He was hollering about detentions and suspensions and something about needing a goddamn cigarette.

Becca grabbed her things and fell into step beside Quinn.

She almost stopped short when Gabriel fell into step beside her. His cheek was even redder now—he was definitely going to have a black eye.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. Quinn reached out and squeezed her hand.

“That guy’s an ass**le,” he added.

“Yes,” she agreed. “He is.” She paused. “Thanks for hitting him.”

He grinned and touched his face. “Next time I’ll let you do it.”

She smiled back—a little.

Then she remembered something Chris had told her. “Wait—I thought you wouldn’t be able to play all year if you got in another fight.”

Nick snorted behind them. Gabriel laughed and dropped an arm across her shoulders, almost giving her half a hug. “You’re sweet. I’m not worried.”

Becca left his arm there. It felt good—brotherly. Like when she’d played foreman in their driveway.

She looked up at him. “You’re not?”

“Nah. Don’t you remember? They all think I’m Nick.”

CHAPTER 29

Chris sucked it up and went to class on Wednesday. He hauled ass to make it to the room before Becca, but now he was doodling in his notebook, fighting not to fidget. He sketched a rather impressive pyramid before deciding it made him look like a complete tool. So he flipped to a clean page.

The Guide seemed to be lying low since they’d chased him off at the bridge—or maybe he was plotting something bigger. Whichever, they’d had a peaceful night—or as peaceful as it could be with Michael and Gabriel walking a razor edge of tension all evening. Once darkness fell and his brothers settled, Chris had relished the silence, replaying every moment of that scene in front of the bleachers.

Becca had come walking across the field, looking like a loud noise would send her bolting for safety. But she’d kept her head up and her pace even, determined as ever.

No, not determined. Brave.

She’d punched Gabriel right in the face—something Chris wasn’t sure he’d try himself. Even before that, she’d stood up to Tyler and Seth—had saved Chris without knowing the stakes. He couldn’t remember two words he’d spoken to Becca before that mess in the parking lot. Now he couldn’t make himself forget a single thing about her.

Seeing her tears on the field had almost been his undoing. He’d wanted to hold her. No, he’d wanted to kill Drew and anyone else who’d laid a hand on her. That guy was lucky Gabriel got to him first.

But no, Chris had just sat there and watched. He could kick himself.

He should have talked to her, after. He should have walked her to her car. Called her last night to check on her.

What had she said about Hunter? I was scared, and he came over.

Would she have wanted Chris to call?

Any minute now she was going to come strolling in here with Hunter. She’d sit down, smelling like almonds and vanilla, and Chris would pretend he didn’t notice. She’d think about World History.

He’d think about her.

God, he was going to drive himself crazy. He looked down at his notebook. He’d drawn a spiral, pressing so hard that the pen was going through the paper.