Striker

Untitled Part 7

 "Why do they call him Striker?" I whispered to Brute. 

"You'll find out eventually, hun." He replied, also in a whisper. I bit my lip and nodded, still curious as hell to why that was his nickname. 

"I've never had a nickname. Nothing really goes with my name." I said to the boys. We were sitting at lunch, talking about anything and everything trying to pass the time. 

"Coward is a good one." Striker said. I flipped him off, not caring if he did to me what he did to Julia. "You wish, baby." He replied to it, smirking. 

"You're a pig." I said, fake gagging. The guys laughed and Striker just rolled his eyes, grunting as usual. I swear, that is all he knows how to do. 

"Look who's growing a pair of balls." He said, leaning towards me from across the table. 

"Shut up, Striker." Max said, standing up for me. He was so sweet. 

"How about babydoll? Do you care if I call you that?" Pete asked. I was slightly taken aback, as he is usually the very quiet one. I blushed, shaking my head no. 

"That's not fair. I want to have a nickname for you." Brute and Max whined. I grinned, shaking my head at the two. The bell rang and I got up to walk away. 

I felt a hand slap my ass as we were all walking and I turned around surprised at the unexpected contact. Not as surprised as I was, though, when a fist made a contact with this guys face. 

Striker seriously just laid this guy out with one punch. He is definitely unconscious, lying on the floor. 

"That's why they call him striker, hun." Brute said, laughing lightly. The guys started to walk away and I grabbed Striker, finally annoyed enough with his attitude to say something. 

"What the fuck Striker? Why would you do that?" I whisper yelled. Violence is not, and never will be the answer. No matter who it is or what is happening. He can't just continue to go around and beat whoever he wants. I was slightly distracted by what he was saying by the way his muscles were bulging through his shirt. God, if only I could just feel them under my fingers. I snapped out of my thoughts to him smirking. Fuck. 

"Are you going to fucking answer me?" I said, getting extremely irritated. 

"When you stop eye fucking me, of course. Next time, though, I'll just allow you to be smacked on the ass. I didn't know you liked that. My bad." He sneered, stepping closer to get into my face. He was such an asshole. A royal dick. I swung my hand back to punch him, just wanting him to shut his mouth. I know, I know. I said violence was never the answer, but in this case, it was. He needed knocked down a peg. Unfortunately for me, that didn't happen. 

Striker grabbed my hand before it could make contact. He looked seriously pissed. His grey eyes were blazing with anger. He slammed me against the locker and walked away. I was actually surprised, once again. I was expecting to get throat slammed like Julia. 

Striker didn't come back to school that day. Max and the boys were surprised that I was even still alive. After I told them the story, blushing a little because I had kept thinking about his bulging muscles, they laughed but still said I was not safe at the moment. I couldn't have agreed more. No way would he let that go unpunished, that's for sure.