Stop by the new site and take a look around. Isabella Chasing McCree by J. The right clothes, the right friends, the right car. Being popular was all that mattered. Her parents were rich and treated like royalty throughout the community. She thought her senior year of high school was going perfectly, until the night her drink was spiked at a party by one of her so called friends.
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Chapter 1 Chase A siren blared. Someone cursed as they sat impatiently at a red light. Another man laid on his horn. I wish I was in Montana. Nothing but big skies and cool clean air filtering down from the white-capped mountains.
But I was in Florida near a fancy hotel and golf club. Heat trapped between the buildings and radiated off the pavement. The green trees and grass were relegated to yards and medians. Everywhere I looked tourists crowded the beaches, the stores.
I did have a little piece of Montana embodied in an old horse named Ash. Although I knew I could get into some serious shit, I decided to take him out for a nighttime ride through one of the parks in my neighborhood. It was set far back from the road, not well lit.
The chances of anyone seeing us were slim. Ash was in heaven. He pumped his legs, whinnying and shaking his head. It was invigorating and freeing. The best idea and the most fun either of us had had in a couple weeks. She was in Tampa with her husband Todd, seeing some show or other. Movement out of the corner of my eye brought me to a halt. If the person behind me was looking for an easy target, he was going to get a nasty surprise.
Curling my fingers around the handle, I glanced over my shoulder. I was expecting to find a man looking to mug me, anything remotely threatening, not a little blonde cheerleader covered in glitter…and blood. I looped the whip back on the saddle not wanting to scare her, and turned to find her sitting carefully on the steps of the fountain.
She hiccupped. This was the last place she needed to be. What was wrong with these city people? Were they all insane? Or maybe it was me. The slow talking, country poke, as my classmates have so nicely called me. There was something familiar about her though. Her cheerleading uniform sported the colors of my new high school. I studied her a little more closely. Yep, she was definitely one of the popular crowd.
I was on the bottom of the totem pole, and she might as well be royalty. She started to giggle. What the hell was I supposed to do now? Her nails were hot pink. My face feels like a balloon. My knees hurt and my hands hurt…and did I tell you my head hurts, too?
I crouched to get a closer look at the little train wreck. Her makeup smeared, tracks of black running down her cheeks, mixing with silver glitter. I looked lower. Her hands laid palm up in her lap. They were red and raw, with little pecks of gravel embedded. Both of her knees were bloody, lines of red dried to her shins with even more gravel and dirt.
My chest felt tight. But I tripped because I…sometimes I have four feet! It really hurts to walk.
Shelves: highschool-teen-romance-ya , kindle , cowboys-ranchers-western , clean-cleanish-books 4. Briar is a 17 yr old rich girl who attends the best private school in town. She is a cheerleader and has a boyfriend named Alex. Her dad is all about what others can do for him and how nothing can get in the way to tarnish his 4.