The Hockey Bully Is My Stepbrother

Dawn’s Point of View

I got off work late tonight; my eyes flickered down the lonely street, realizing there was not a single commercial car in sight, which meant I was going to take a long hike home.

Tiredness crashed over me, my eyelids heavy with sleep, and my arms ached. Suddenly, blinding lights from a car’s headlamps flared on and focused on me.

"Huh!" My fingers shield my eyes instinctively, and I wondered whose car was parked in the middle of a deserted alley. My eyes widened when I heard the engine of the car roar to life, tires screeched, smoke huffed, and it drifted speedily at me.

Shock rooted my feet in a spot, and my eyes squeezed shut, awaiting the dreadful impact that never came. The loud screeching of the tires echoed again, and the car stopped.

My eyes snapped open when I heard a familiar laughter, one that rocked my soul out of my body.

God…please…No….

I stumbled back, but it was too late; they were getting out of the car.

First, I saw Dorothy Whitmore, queen bee of the school and head of the cheerleading team—she is ruthless to anyone who dares to cross her path, which is basically anyone she doesn't like.

That fair-haired, ugly—I wish I could call her ugly, but she wasn’t… she was blonde, beautiful, and elegant.

Everything I’m not.

And standing in front of me now, she was locking arms with my arch-nemesis.

Towering above 6 ft, his black hair was styled to the back, and his icy blue eyes narrowed, obviously repulsed by my presence.

Logan fucking Ashton. I preferred to call him the devil.

They came along with their minions, Sandra, Jensen, and Henry, spineless fools who suck up to these two like they’re gods. Everything in school is controlled by the hierarchy, and there are only three things that can bring you on the list.

Good looks.

A shitty personality, which people tend to consider cool.

The last and the most important one is money.

And Logan has all three.

In fact, he is unmatched in the entire school.

“I told you I know where to find her." Dorothy grinned. “What are you doing out here, sports committee president?”

“What do you want?” I tried to remain unfazed.

“You know why I’m here,” Logan finally spoke, his deep voice reverberating through my ears. “Don’t force my hand.”

“And I’ve told you before,” I retorted. “No.”

“You've got a lot of nerve…” He scoffed, stepping forward, and I took two steps back. “…extending the date of the upcoming competition without informing me, I’m the captain of the team—”

“And I’m the president of the sports committee.” I interrupted him, and he froze, his surprise mounting.

"I shouldn’t have to discuss my intentions with you beforehand. This is something that has been decided between the board of committee.”

“I don’t care about the damned board.” He snarled. “Change the date back.”

“I don’t care about your opinion.” I retorted.

In the blink of an eye, he covered the distance between us quickly, his hand shooting out to grab the front of my blouse, yanking me closer.

“What did you fucking say?” He growled, his face barely inches away from mine. The sweet musky scent of his cologne is wafting into my nose. “You either change the date or I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

I met his eyes with a smirk; in the last five years, they had done everything humanly possible to me, so I leaned into his face to whisper.

“Go ahead, and try.”

As if accepting my challenge, his eyes darkened, and his lips twisted into a sinister smile.