Beyond: A High School Bully Romance (Tory’s School for the Troubled Book 2) by Katie May

Author:Katie May [May, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Expresso Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

12

Maria

My hand was steady on the gun in my sweatshirt pocket as I bounced from foot to foot.

The moon was high in the sky, bathing the store in a pastel gold glow and somehow contributing to the eerie atmosphere. My heart beat rapidly with nerves as I once again caressed the grip of my unloaded gun.

You can do this, Maria. You can do this.

Adrenaline combined with my nerves and created a toxic cocktail of emotions.

You can do this.

In the window, I caught a sight of my reflection. My blonde hair was slicked back in a low ponytail, currently hidden beneath my hood. The gray sweatshirt I wore was unflattering as hell, stopping just above my knees. It was way too hot to wear such clothes, but I didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing me. Or worse, telling the cops what I looked like.

Stealing…

It was a high I couldn’t describe with words. It was bright lights flashing intermittently as music blared in your ears. It was laughter and mirth and errant firecrackers that sparked around you. It reminded me of a rollercoaster—your stomach tightening as you climbed the steep first hill, before it immediately bottomed out as you descended, the wind whipping at your hair and face. A part of you was utterly terrified, while the rest of you relished the sensation of freefalling. Of every twist and turn and upside-down loop you went through at record speed. And when the ride finally stopped, all you wanted to do was go again and again and again.

I smirked at my reflection, puckering my lips and reaching into my pocket to reapply my bright red lipstick. It never hurt to look your best on a job.

And this wasn’t just any job. No, this was the job of all jobs.

I wasn’t merely going to steal a few bottles of beers from the fridge or lip balm from the shelves. Not this time.

I’d been watching Check’s for weeks, and I estimated that he collected at least a few thousand dollars in cash at the end of every night. He was an older man with thinning white hair, a potbelly that barely fit in his red uniform shirt, and sagging jeans. To be quite frank, he was easy prey.

In and out.

Take the money and run.

I made sure the store was empty as I hurried inside, the tinkling bell above my head announcing my arrival.

The owner—Check himself—sat behind the counter, flipping through the pages of a magazine. He glanced up when I entered, nodded once, and then went back to his reading.

I pretended to pursue the shelf in front of me, though I wouldn’t have been able to tell you what it contained. My body felt numb, almost detached from my mind, and everything took on a hazy quality.

My hand tightened once more around the gun as I turned towards the register.

The bell chimed a second time, indicating that more people had entered the store. I bit down on my lip to contain my curse as I

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