Page 68 of Fire Fight

I try a short run-up, the momentum sending me higher but still far short of getting my arm over the top edge and the impact catches the side of my knee, leaving me flexing it to ease out the pain.

I scout the surrounds, looking for anything I can drag over as a temporary footstool. Then freeze as multiple footsteps sound, heading towards me. There’s nowhere to hide.

Two boys turn the corner. One clicks his tongue against his teeth when he sees me, amplifying my nervousness. “This is a restricted area. You’re not allowed to be here.”

His face dips into shadow as he passes the overhead light and a fresh jolt of fear zips through me.

I drop back, trying to relax my shoulders so they don’t realise I’m scared of them, while my heart thumps so hard I feel dizzy.

“She’s painted in our colours,” his mate points out and I nod in encouragement.

See, I’m one of you.

But he steps towards me rather than retreating. “What’re you doing back here?”

If I refuse to answer, they might grow aggressive. Instead, I try to engage their sympathy. “Avoiding some girls in case they tease me.”

The first boy’s eyes narrow as he moves closer, eyes scanning my face. He tosses his friend a delighted smile. “Bingo.”

The other boy laughs, and my muscles stiffen at the sound, unsure what’s happening. They move apart, closing in on me from either side, making my adrenaline surge.

“Has the game started again?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice steady. “I need to get back to my seat before my boyfriend comes hunting for me.”

“Hudson’s on the pitch,” the second boy says and my stomach drops.

They know who I am.

They’retargetingme and the magic ‘boyfriend’ threat hasn’t halted their measured advance.

My stomach is sickeningly hollow. The blood roars in my ears, inciting panic, and I brace my heel, then lunge for the gap between them, sprinting.

But they’re too close.

One grabs my hand, the other a fistful of my shirt, sending my fear skyrocketing until I choke back a sob, nose prickling with the threat of tears.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the first says, his hot breath stinking of beer as he shoves me against the gate. My back slams against the unyielding metal and it clanks like old prison chains. A jarring pain shoots from my shoulder to my hip.

His friend closes in from the other side, yanking my shirt up to my neck, exposing my bra.

The first falls to the side, arm around my head, hand sealing my mouth.

“That’s better,” the second murmurs. “Close your eyes and open your legs, darlin’. You’re about to make us very rich.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

DRAKE

The moment Gretchenand her gaggle of friends move away, I head back to the stands where I last saw Cadence. The only thing worse than knowing she’s here with Hudson is escorting Miss Vapid as my date.

With each minute spent in her company, I loathe her more.

My retaliation is also my penance as I feign friendship with the tedious collection of gossip, diet plans, gloating, and envy masquerading as a girl.

Another complaint to lay at Cadence’s feet.

A streaker runs past, body painted with Alabaster colours. The tiny floss of a G-string rides up his arse and I wonder what happened to the old joys of full-frontal nudity. If you’re going to interrupt the pitch by streaking, commit dammit.

A chorus of laughter and cheers erupt nearby, signalling a capture. I smile at the ruckus, but it fades as I reach the bleachers and Cadence is nowhere in sight.

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