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Play With Me: A High School Bully Romance (Diamond In The Rough Book 1)(42)

By:Rebel Hart


“You make it sound like he tossed himself off a bridge or something.”

I yelled, “Damn it, Michael. I need you right now. My best fucking friend. Please. If you come get me, I’ll leave you alone. For good. I won’t talk to you. I won’t approach you. I won’t bother you with Clint shit ever again. Just please, this once, come get me and stop asking questions.”

“I don’t want that, and you know it.”

“Well, you’re sure as hell acting like it!”

I heard his bike revving off in the distance. Coming closer, only to fade back. And I could have sworn I heard the skidding of tires. The sound made me sick. So sick that I actually heaved. And when I did, Michael sighed.

“You said you’re at the elementary school?”

I sniffled. “Yes.”

“Are you crying?”

“Just shut the fuck up and get here.”

“Fine. I’m on my way. But I’m leaving Allison behind. She doesn’t need to get involved with his shit. Just like you shouldn’t have.”

“Spare me the lecture, please?”

“Stand on the curb so I can spot you. Bye.”

I hung up the phone call and stood there like a damn idiot. The sounds faded into nothingness for a few seconds, and it forced tears down my cheeks. I knew the first question Michael would ask the second I got into his car. He’d want to know if I called the police. And if I didn’t, he’d chastise me for it. He’d tell me I was turning into Clint, and I’d really risk losing my friend then.

So as I stood there waiting for him, I pressed that little red emergency button on my phone screen.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Hi. Yes. I’d like to report an… ambush?”

“An ambush, ma’am?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes. An ambush. My boyfriend came to—”

Boyfriend? Is that what Clint was to me?

The word made me smile.

The operator cleared her throat. “Your boyfriend came where, ma’am?”

I shook my head. “Yes. Sorry. My boyfriend came to see me at work. We were standing in the parking lot after I locked up, and four drunk guys in a car pulled into the parking lot. Started harassing us. Calling us names. Throwing beer bottles and things at us. They were trying t—”

I heard the operator typing in the background as tears rushed to my eyes again.

“They were trying to what, ma’am? Where are you currently?”

I sighed. “I’m in Riverbend, in front of the elementary school beside a place called Grady’s Groceries. I don’t have any other address other than that. You guys have to hurry. My boyfriend started fighting with these guys so they wouldn't get to me. They were talking about things. Taking advantage of me and all that. He got on his bike and rode off, and a car full of drunk teenagers are following him. He’s in a lot of trouble. Please.”

“All right, ma’am. I want you to stay calm. About how old do you think the boys are?”

“No more than eighteen. They go to Lincoln High School.”

The operator hummed. “Do you know what the car looked like?”

I searched around for Michael’s SUV as I racked my brain.

“Uh… it was a low-riding car. Like, not like the usual way a car sits on its tires, if that makes any sense. And it was white. A white, low-riding car with tinted windows. I don’t know anything other than that, though. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s okay. Just take some deep breaths for me. You’re panting pretty hard.”

Was I?

Shit, I was.

I drew in some deep breaths. “I don’t want my boyfriend to get in trouble. He only fought against them and sped off to get them away from me. They were grabbing for me. There are parking lot cameras at Grady’s Groceries. The footage should show—”

The operator cut me off. “It’s okay. First we get everyone safe. Then we figure out who’s at fault. But, from one woman to another, I believe you. Okay? Just stay where you are.”

But just as she said that, Michael’s SUV pulled up to the curb.

“I’m sorry, I have to go. Please. Send someone out here. Hurry. I think my boyfriend and those goons have raced across the railroad tracks. And there’s a lot of trees and overpasses and things for them to get hurt on.”

“Ma’am. Do not go after them. Please, stay on the line with me and wait for—”

I hung up the call and ripped Michael’s door open. I climbed in, slamming the door closed as I buckled my seatbelt. I dropped my purse to the floorboard and slipped my phone into his cup holder. Then I looked him straight in his eyes as he waited for an explanation.

I sighed. “I’ve called the police. But we have to find Clint. He’s in a lot of trouble. Serious trouble.”

Michael scoffed. “Shouldn't shock you one bit.”

“He’s in trouble because he saved me from a group of drunk guys who wanted to take me, Michael.”

“Take you? What the hell do you mean, ta—”

I leveled him with a stare that told him everything he needed to know. Finally, he pulled away from the curb and whipped a U-turn.

“I take it the revving engines beyond the railroad tracks are them?”

I nodded. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”

“And you said you called the police?”

“I did. I told the 9-1-1 operator as much as I could remember. I just hope Clint doesn’t get into too much trouble for helping me like that.”

Michael paused. “What did he do, exactly?”

I shrugged. “What he always does. Harassed them to get their attention so I could run and hop the chain-link fence of the playground back there.”

Michael nodded, but he didn’t say anything. And for some reason, I wanted to know his thoughts. I wanted him to talk to me, even if it was in anger.

“Does he know the guys or anything? Or was it just a group of random guys?”

I winced, knowing how he’d react to the answer. “Two of the guys were from the football field fight the other day.”

He scoffed. “See, Rae? That’s what I’m telling you about this asshole of a dude. He’s always in trouble. That’s why you never should’ve gotten involved with him in the first place. You’re a good girl. You’re not the kind of girl who throws it all away on some dickhead with a nice face.”

I gritted my teeth. “I know you're pissed off at me. And rightfully so. And yes, you’re also probably right about Clint and this entire scenario. About a lot of things. But he did what he did tonight to protect me. I need you to trust me on that. So spare me the lecture and give it to me some other time. You know, when we figure out whether Clint is dead or not.”

“Would do the world some good.”

“Michael!”

“I don’t like the dude, okay? He’s an absolute maniac. Has been our entire high school career. Those comments he made about Allison? Absolutely unacceptable, whether he’s screwing my friend or not.”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “Just fucking drive.”

“Fine by me.”





40





Clinton





At least they’re far away from Rae.

It was the only thought that filled my head as I sped down the back roads. The further we got away from the railroad tracks, the worse the road conditions got. And suddenly, I understood where that phrase came from: ‘The other side of the tracks.’

I’m not ever using that fucking phrase again.

I zoomed by crumbling neighborhoods with broken porch lights and cars propped up on cement blocks. I weaved in and out of abandoned neighborhoods, cursing how those assholes kept up with me. These guys were bad news. They had every intention of doing harm tonight. And with the endless supply of beer bottles and cans being tossed at the wheels of my fucking bike, they were still drinking.

Which meant this would only get worse for me if I couldn't shake them soon.

I whipped a U-turn and headed back for the railroad tracks. I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket, and I knew damn good and well who it was. Rae. Probably calling to see if I’d gotten away yet. Wanting to know if I was fine. If I was hurt. If I needed anything.

Fucking hell, she deserves better than all this.

“We’re coming for you!”

“You won’t get out of this alive!”

“You’re an asswipe, and you’ll stay an asswipe until we side-swipe your ass!”

They yelled at me. Taunted me. Actually made me fearful of what was to come. I turned back around, soaring away from the railroad tracks again as the car skidded to a stop behind me. I grinned as I threw it into gear. I felt my bike rumbling underneath me as my speed picked up. Sixty. Seventy. Eighty miles an hour. The wild whipped around me, cradling me and harboring the fugitive I’d become during this entire debacle.

God, if you get me out of this alive, I’ll stop fucking around.

I was desperate. Because as I heard that bullshit white car gaining on me, I wondered if I’d ever shake them. If I’d ever get them off my damn tail. If there was anyone on this planet that wasn’t in God’s good graces, it was me. Well, my entire family. Because let’s face it, my father needed to be included in that group. But, if he or she was listening—and he or she believed in mercy—I needed a massive chunk of it right about now.