“Revenge is the raging fire that consumes the arsonist.” —Max Lucando
Copyright © 2020 Rachel Leigh
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the copyright owner, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
For permissions contact: [email protected]
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Striker is a Dark Bully Romance that contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find uncomfortable.
www.rachelleighauthor.com
ISBN: 9798693995956
Cover design by Ya’ll. That Graphic.
Cover Model: Andy Murray
Photographer: Michelle Lancaster
Editing: Rebecca, Fairest Reviews Editing Service
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Sneak Peek
Also by Rachel Leigh
Message from the Author
About the Author
Prologue
RebelSin: Damn, now that’s sexy. Let’s see another.
NotYourAngel: I’ll make you a deal. I’ll send you a pic for every question you answer. Grand Finale, you get a private video.
RebelSin: Deal.
NotYourAngel: Why do you hate the world so much?
RebelSin: What’s to love?
NotYourAngel: That’s not an answer and doesn’t warrant a boob shot.
RebelSin: Ass?
NotYourAngel: Nope!
RebelSin: Because the world hates me.
NotYourAngel: (Image sent)
Are you afraid of the dark?
RebelSin: Holy shit! To answer your question, I welcome the dark.
NotYourAngel: (Image sent)
Do you feel like you live in the dark?
RebelSin: You know I’m hard as a fucking rock right now and I might need to take a break to relieve myself. Unless you plan on coming over and doing it for me.
NotYourAngel: I don’t meet up with clients.
RebelSin: Oh. Is that what I am?
NotYourAngel: Have you not paid me massive amounts of money in exchange for my body shots?
RebelSin: Money means nothing to me. To answer your last question, I don’t live in the dark. The darkness lives in me.
NotYourAngel: (Image sent)
What is your biggest regret?
RebelSin: Drooling over here. Biggest regret…talking to you.
NotYourAngel: Jerk!
RebelSin: You dig out my demons. I don’t like to feel. Unless it’s your mouth around my cock.
NotYourAngel: In your dreams.
RebelSin: You are in my dreams. And in my nightmares. You’re a fucking storm, angel girl.
NotYourAngel: Oh yeah? Why is that?
RebelSin: Because you’re a fucking tease and you know it.
NotYourAngel: I’m not a tease! You asked for this.
RebelSin: I don’t like other men seeing your body.
NotYourAngel: That’s not your choice. It’s mine.
RebelSin: My turn to ask a question.
NotYourAngel: Do I get to see a pic of you?
RebelSin: Not a chance. You’ll see my face when I’m ready to show it to you.
NotYourAngel: Ask away.
RebelSin: Have you always been a dirty little tease?
NotYourAngel: Ok. I can see where this is going. You always get so mean when things get serious. I’m logging off.
RebelSin: That’s because you’re my favorite dirty thought and my favorite little tease. But one day, you’ll please instead of tease. Wait and see, angel girl.
1
They didn’t see me.
They couldn't have.
It’s dark, and the bass is carrying through the floors from the party downstairs so loudly that I can’t even hear my own shoes moving. There is no way they can hear my footsteps as I walk steadily down the hall, taking care not to trip over my own feet.
Glancing behind me, I make sure no one is following. Little good it does, considering it’s pitch black. The drumming of my heart in my chest is all I can focus on. Can they hear it? I swear it’s louder than the music, but then again, it’s inside my own chest.
They can’t hear it.
A small glimmer of light from the staircase gives way to my shadow as I round the corner. Pressing my back to the wall out of fear, I swallow hard, but slowly, as the lump in my throat threatens to stay lodged in my esophagus. Whoever that idiot was who told me to use the bathroom up here is just that, an idiot.
With my eyes on the staircase across the hall, I give it a few seconds to be sure no one is going to jump out and grab me before I hurry down them. Just as I’m about to make my escape, a door slams shut and voices carry down the hall. Coming closer and closer. I can’t hear what they are saying. My focus is solely on not making a single sound. I hold my breath as they draw near and pinch my eyes shut.
“We’ll find whoever was out here, and when we do, we’ll take care of them.” That voice. It’s so familiar. It can’t be. Talon Porter? Was he one of them? That can only mean one thing, the others are Lars, Zed, and Tommy. I don’t even have to see them to know it was them. Where there is one, there are four.
What did they mean, they will take care of them? They know someone was out here but they don’t know who it was—not yet, anyway.
Once I hear them go down the stairs, I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit the flashlight. Shining it up and down the hall, my stomach drops.
Cameras.
Of course there are cameras at both ends of the hallway. Talon has enough money to buy the entire state, why wouldn’t he invest in a security system?
It’s only a matter of time until I’m found out. They will know that I overheard them as soon as they watch the footage. What they plan to do with that knowledge sends chills down my spine. Unless I get to them first. I have the upper hand right now. Their secret belongs to me now, which means they belong to me.
Frozen in place, I give it a minute to be sure they rejoined the party downstairs. As my breathing steadies, I think of my next move.
How can I get to the security footage before they do? Better yet, how do I find it?
Think, Marni.
Creeping around the corner and back out
