- Home
- Marita A. Hansen
THE COACH (PLAYED Book 4) Page 7
THE COACH (PLAYED Book 4) Read online
Page 7
Like his daughter.
I pulled on jeans and a white shirt, finishing off with a blazer and jacket over top. I slipped my phone into my pocket and grabbed my bag, making my way downstairs. As usual, the house was eerily silent, Dad already having left for work. I just hoped he came back for me later, sticking to his word about letting me watch his match.
I dumped my bag and walked into the kitchen, my stomach growling louder than a pride of hungry lions. I’d forgotten to eat dinner last night, something I often did when I returned from training, too exhausted to think let alone eat. Hoping there was at least some milk for cereal, I opened up the fridge, surprised to see eggs along with bacon. I glanced over at the bread bin, finding two loaves.
“Fuck yeah!” I yelled, the morning getting even better.
Within minutes, I was frying up a feast, eggs, bacon, toast, all of it ending up in a very happy stomach. I cleaned up, humming a tune, hoping the food meant Dad was starting to get on top of the bills despite all of those letters I’d left on the table. Bacon was a treat, something he only got when he had a bit more than a few bucks in his pocket.
Still humming, I dried my hands off and pulled my phone out, about to text Lucy, but instead found one from her. Do you want to catch the bus to school with me? <3 Lucy.
Sure, I texted back. The Clement bus stop?
She replied with a Yes and a C U there in 5 minutes.
Unable to wipe the stupid smile off my face, I picked up my bag and went for the door. I made my way up the path, stopping as Zuko pulled over to the curb. He climbed through his window like the guys from Dukes of Hazzard, smiling across at me.
“Wanna lift?” he asked.
“As long as Lucy can come, too.”
His smile dropped. “No, that bitch ratted me out.”
“Watch what you call her,” I growled, closing the gate behind me. “Or I’ll kick your bitch ass into tomorrow.”
“Like to see you try,” he said, a smile slipping through. Though, it disappeared when Lucy appeared in her doorway. She went still at the sight of Zuko, looking guilty as sin.
“See, even she knows what she did was wrong,” Zuko said. “So, it’s the bus for her.”
“Then it’s the bus for me, too,” I replied.
“No, man, she needs to pay for what she did, plus you owe me, so get in. I needa talk to you.”
Lucy walked up the path. “Don’t worry about me, Riley, I’ll see you at school.”
I shook my head. “Nope, you’re my girl, so you’re coming. Zuko will just have to deal with it.”
Zuko grimaced. “Okay! But only if she’s in the back and you’re in the front. She’s also not allowed to speak, let alone breathe my way. She’s basically a ghost. Get it!”
“Fine with me,” Lucy said, going for the back.
I went for the front, Zuko’s concession a breakthrough. I glanced over my shoulder at Lucy as she pulled her seatbelt on, getting a nice view of her tits. “Nice top,” I said, a couple of her blouse buttons left undone.
“Thanks,” she replied, smiling across at me, her chocolate-brown eyes lighting up at my comment.
“No talking, ghost!” Zuko snapped.
“Sorry,” Lucy said.
“Ghosts can’t say sorry, so zip it,” he said.
“Be careful,” I growled, though he ignored me, revving his car like it was an extension of his dick. “By the way, nice ride, but then again, the last one was just as nice.”
He sneered. “That one was shit, while this one’s smoother than whiskey. Italian is always the best.”
“Nope, American is, and whiskey isn’t even Italian, let alone smooth.”
“Not the cheap shit you drink, moonshine boy,” he replied, pulling away from the curb. “And you know nothing about metaphors let alone cars.”
Lucy snorted behind me. “I know plenty,” I said, annoyed she’d laughed at me. “Ford F-15 all the way.”
Zuko rolled his eyes. “That ain’t a car, it’s a pickup truck, you dumbass.” He started jabbering on about everything right with Italian cars and everything wrong with American ones. Lucy was all but forgotten as I countered what he said, the debate raging until we pulled up to school.
Zuko swerved in fast, cutting off Daniel’s car, stealing his park. Daniel backed up and pulled into another spot as we got out. Zuko placed his arms on the roof of his car and looked across at him with a self-satisfied smirk. Daniel slammed his door shut and stormed off in a huff. His sister ran after him, glancing back at us. No, she was looking at Lucy, a smile on her face, making me wonder what that was about. Then they were gone, disappearing into the building.
“Why was Maddy smiling at you?” I asked, sidling up next to Lucy. “She’s not like Brooke, her smiles aren’t mean.”
Lucy shrugged. “Probably because I told Devin he didn’t have a chance with her, that she was too good for him.”
Zuko snorted out a laugh. “You’ve got balls saying that to Dev,” he said, forgetting about his ghost comment, back to talking to her.
She smiled. “I took great satisfaction in it.”
“I bet you did, just watch your back with him, he’s vicious.”
“He won’t touch my woman,” I cut in, Devin not that stupid.
Lucy smiled wider, her eyes lighting up at my words. She grabbed my hand, looking completely different from the girl who used to peek at me. And not just because she was dressing hotter, but because she was my girl, my whole view of her having changed in such a short span of time.
We made our way to the entrance, Zuko back to talking about Italian cars, though that stopped as soon as we entered the building. A girl stepped out of the school office, and right in our path, her smoldering eyes zeroing in on me.
“Hello, Riley,” Melissa said.
To be continued...
Thanks for Reading!
I would like to ask if you could review The Coach along with any of my other books that you’ve read, regardless of whether you’ve loved or hated them, because every review counts, especially for self-published authors.
Here’s the link to my Amazon author page, where you can find all of my books:
http://www.amazon.com/Marita-A.-Hansen/e/B005H5W79K/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1
For more information on my work you can check out these other links:
Author Facebook Page:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Marita-A-Hansen/113130742120676
Blog Site:
http://maritaahansen.blogspot.co.nz/
Goodreads’ Author Page:
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5129673.Marita_A_Hansen
Patreon Page:
https://www.patreon.com/maritahansen
Twitter Name: @MaritaAHansen
BEHIND THE HOOD SAMPLE
UK English is used due to the New Zealand setting.
1
Maia
Maia Daniels knew she should just ignore the boys. Walk past, don’t listen, she told herself. Don’t talk back.
It was ten o’clock on a Saturday night. The gang were sitting on a wall outside Claydon Pub, passing around a smoke. She’d seen some of them at high school, when they decided to turn up that is.
Whooping and yelling came from the pub. A television blared loudly, no doubt replaying the All Blacks’ rugby match against the Wallabies. Maia stopped at the driveway as a purple Holden drove into the car park. Music blasted from inside the souped-up machine, the bass pumping its steady beat out into the night.
“Maia, c’mere,” Tama Harris yelled.
The gang leader was eighteen, tall and solidly built, with a wide, flat nose. He’d shaved off his hair recently, replacing it with a curved pattern called a moko. Usually, the tattoo adorned the face, a sign of a Maori warrior—something to be proud of. But Tama was no one to be proud of, nothing but a dreg who constantly harassed her. Unlike the other boys, he wore his hoodie tied around his waist, his ripped jeans and muscle shirt unsuitable for the cold autumn weather. Maia figu
red he was probably high on something, either from the weed in his hand or the empty bottles at his feet—or both.
“Hey, Maia! Are ya a double d?” a podgy boy with spiky blond hair shouted.
“They sure felt like it,” Tama replied, his hand actions eliciting laughter from the gang.
A blush ran across Maia’s cheeks. Shit, she hated her breasts. Even in her oversized sweatshirt they still grabbed attention. She pulled her hood further over her head, and rounded her shoulders. After another car passed, she hitched up her track pants and walked across the muddy driveway.
Tama hollered, “Oi! I told ja to c’mere.”
She looked back, aching to give him the finger, but instead jammed her hands into her pockets. God, she was a moron for sneaking out, but ... Ben’s raves were always awesome. Why couldn’t her mum let her go? It wasn’t like she did drugs, and the boys at the party were just mates.
Tama’s scowl changed into a grin. He threw his joint onto the ground and jumped off the stone wall. With a jerk of his head, he indicated for the gang to follow.
Maia’s heartbeat picked up. Still concentrating on Tama, she stepped off the kerb and onto Waiata Crescent. The blast of a horn made her leap back. The front passenger leaned out of a battered sedan, and swore at her. Ignoring the pimply git, she scooted around the car and across the side road.
A loud wolf-whistle made her jump. She glanced over her shoulder. Tama’s eyes were fixated on her, promising things she didn’t want.
He grabbed his crotch. “I like ya from behind, Maia.”
All the boys, except for Mikey Thomas, laughed. Tama’s cousin looked away as though uncomfortable with what was happening. He was fourteen and in her class at school. She thought he liked her; either that or he had a staring problem. Yeah, she’d only noticed because she was usually checking him out too.
Maia wondered if she could lose the gang by cutting across the highway. Traffic was heavy, making this option just as dangerous as stopping for Tama. Further up the road, past the tyre yard, the video and liquor stores’ lights were on. The neon sign of the happy video man was a welcoming sight. It was maybe a hundred metres away. She thought she had a chance of outrunning Tama. She was fast, damned fast. If she’d showed up to school enough, she probably would’ve been on the track team.
“Maia, pretty Maia,” Tama taunted. “I’ve got sumpthin’ to show you.”
Maia wasn’t sure whether it was a knife—or something else in his pants. She knew he carried a switchblade. He’d stabbed her brother in the arm once when Nike attacked him with a baseball bat. She’d always wondered whether this was why Tama harassed her. But she couldn’t blame Nike for it. Leila, his girlfriend at the time, had caused the fight. The bitch had cheated on him with Tama, then cried rape after he found out.
“Leave me alone, Tama,” she said, remembering the last time he’d approached her. She’d kicked him in the balls for grabbing her breasts. “Nike said he’d beat the living snot outta you if you came near me again.”
“I’d love to see him fuckin’ try. Plus, you owe me, bitch.”
Maia knew she should keep her mouth shut; that whenever she spoke it got her into trouble. Her mother had told her countless times, “You speak too much, Maia, you should listen more.”
She grinned, unable to help herself. “What do I owe you? More bruised balls?”
She heard a slicing noise behind her, the sound of a switchblade being opened. Shit!
“Get her,” Tama yelled.
*
BEHIND THE HOOD
is available on Amazon
*
MORE BOOKS BY MARITA A. HANSEN
Graffiti Heaven (Graffiti Heaven #1)
Behind the Hood (Behind the Lives #1)
Behind the Tears (Behind the Lives #2)
Behind the Lens (Behind the Lives #3)
Behind the Secrets (Behind the Lives #4)
Don’t Peek (The Diaries of a Teenage Girl)
Overwhelmed (Blurred Lines #1)
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 1 – 5
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 6 – 10
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 1, Episodes 11 – 15
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 2, Episode 1 “Mind Games”
My Masters’ Nightmare Season 2, Episode 2 “Déjà Vu”
Ricardo (The Santini Brothers #1)
Brando (The Santini Brothers #2)
Vincenzo (A Santini Brothers’ Short Story) from the anthology Men of Mayhem
I Love You, Salvatore (The Five Families #1) – This is also a Santini Brothers’ Novella
Sasha & Andriena (Lovers & Sinners #1)
Broken English (Broken Lives #1)
Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2)
Jagged Pill (Broken Lives #3)
Love Drunk (Broken Lives #4)
Facing the Music (Broken Lives #4.1) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #1)
Smokescreen (Broken Lives #4.2) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #2)
Demon in Disguise (Broken Lives #4.3) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #3)
Bottled Up (Broken Lives #4.4) & (A Broken Lives Short Story #4)
5 Abbey Road (Broken Streets #1)
Love Hate Love
Crying Out Silent
Ashes to Ashes
The Cheat (Played #1)
The Cheerleader (Played #2)
The Cop (Played #3)
Stepped On (Villains #1), also containing NAF Part 1
Hit On (Villains #2), also containing NAF Part 2