Not a Role Model Read online

  Table of Contents

  Not a Role Model

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Other titles by Lani Lynn Vale

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Get Tragic

  Text copyright © 2022 Lani Lynn Vale ™

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to headache medicine. I swear, I’ve taken Walmart brand Excedrin at least once a day since I started writing it. Dear Sweet Baby Jesus, I hate having a constant headache. I think it’s because I gave up carbs. Do you think it’s because I gave up carbs? I’m pretty sure I’m having a cookie for dinner.

  Acknowledgments

  Golden Czermak - Photographer

  My Brother’s Editor & Ink It Out Editing - My editors

  Alyssa Garcia - Cover Artist & PA

  My mom - Thank you for reading this book eight million three hundred and nine times.

  My betas—I don’t know what I would do without y’all. Thank you, my lovely betas, for loving my books as much as I do.

  Other titles by Lani Lynn Vale

  The Freebirds

  Boomtown

  Highway Don’t Care

  Another One Bites the Dust

  Last Day of My Life

  Texas Tornado

  I Don’t Dance

  The Heroes of The Dixie Wardens MC

  Lights To My Siren

  Halligan To My Axe

  Kevlar To My Vest

  Keys To My Cuffs

  Life To My Flight

  Charge To My Line

  Counter To My Intelligence

  Right To My Wrong

  Code 11- KPD SWAT

  Center Mass

  Double Tap

  Bang Switch

  Execution Style

  Charlie Foxtrot

  Kill Shot

  Coup De Grace

  The Uncertain Saints

  Whiskey Neat

  Jack & Coke

  Vodka On The Rocks

  Bad Apple

  Dirty Mother

  Rusty Nail

  The Kilgore Fire Series

  Shock Advised

  Flash Point

  Oxygen Deprived

  Controlled Burn

  Put Out

  I Like Big Dragons Series

  I Like Big Dragons and I Cannot Lie

  Dragons Need Love, Too

  Oh, My Dragon

  The Dixie Warden Rejects

  Beard Mode

  Fear the Beard

  Son of a Beard

  I’m Only Here for the Beard

  The Beard Made Me Do It

  Beard Up

  For the Love of Beard

  Law & Beard

  There’s No Crying in Baseball

  Pitch Please

  Quit Your Pitchin’

  Listen, Pitch

  The Hail Raisers

  Hail No

  Go to Hail

  Burn in Hail

  What the Hail

  The Hail You Say

  Hail Mary

  The Simple Man Series

  Kinda Don’t Care

  Maybe Don’t Wanna

  Get You Some

  Ain’t Doin’ It

  Too Bad So Sad

  Bear Bottom Guardians MC

  Mess Me Up

  Talkin’ Trash

  How About No

  My Bad

  One Chance, Fancy

  It Happens

  Keep It Classy

  Snitches Get Stitches

  F-Bomb

  The Southern Gentleman Series

  Hissy Fit

  Lord Have Mercy

  KPD Motorcycle Patrol

  Hide Your Crazy

  It Wasn’t Me

  I’d Rather Not

  Make Me

  Sinners are Winners

  If You Say So

  SWAT 2.0

  Just Kidding

  Fries Before Guys

  Maybe Swearing Will Help

  Ask Me If I Care

  May Contain Wine

  Joke’s on You

  Join the Club

  Any Day Now

  Say it Ain’t So

  Officially Over It

  Nobody Knows

  Depends Who’s Asking

  Valentine Boys

  Herd That

  Crazy Heifer

  Chute Yeah

  Get Bucked

  Souls Chapel Revenants

  Repeat Offender

  Conjugal Visits

  Jailbait

  Doin’ A Dime

  Kitty, Kitty

  Gen Pop

  Inmate of the Month

  Madd CrossFit Series

  No Rep

  Jerk It

  Chalk Dirty to Me

  Battle Crows MC

  Always Someone’s Monster

  Make Me Your Villain

  Rattle Some Cages

  Not A Role Model

  Get Tragic

  Strange and Unusual

  Never Trust The Living

  About the Book

  You better watch out for people that bounce back from everything that’s meant to destroy them.

  Those were the words that Coreline King learned to live by when it came to dealing with Tide ‘Rook’ Crow, member of the Battle Crows MC, general surgeon, and all-around jerk who lived to make her life a living hell.

  It all started in high school when he stopped seeing her as a random girl and started to see her as his rival.

  Together, they became ‘frenemies.’ I.e.—a person with whom one is friendly, despite a fundamental dislike or rivalry.

  At least, it started out like that.

  Everyone always says there’s a fine line between love and hate. And at first, Tide and Coreline don’t realize how very true that is.

  Not until Tide gets hurt defending Coreline’s honor, and Coreline has to fix him because she feels like she owes him.

  But one night of bad choices leads to a very big ‘oops’ that will either haunt them for the next eighteen years or bring them together as tight as they ever could be.

  PROLOGUE

  You’ll watch an entire Netflix series even though it’s slow just because someone says ‘it gets better.’ What if you looked at your life goals like that?

  -Coreline’s father, Rock, to Coreline

  CORELINE

  I hit the ground with a thump and groaned.

  My hip smarted and my elbow throbbed as I glanced up at the boy that’d just bowled me over.

  “Can’t you fuckin’ see where you’re going, asshole?” I grumbled loudly.

  Tide, with his big brown eyes and his shaggy brown hair, looked down at me with amusement. Offering me his hand, he said, “Sorry, Elvis. Didn’t see you.”

  I refused his offer of help and pushed up to my feet, regretting the move immediately when the throbbing in my elbow nearly caused me to slip back to the floor.

  Thankfully, I made it to standing and bent down to pick up my backpack.

  “Don’t call me Elvis,” I ordered.

  “Amber?” he jeered.

  I wanted to throat punch him.

  “Even worse,” I hissed.

  He chuckled, his eyes filled with mirth.

  “Come on, Amber Alert. It’ll be okay,” he teased.

  I wanted to throat punch him.

  Two years ago, when I was asked how old I was at a teen dance by one of the chaperones because I ‘didn’t look like I could possibly be in high school,’ Tide had started that awful nickname.

  Amber Alert. As in, child.

  God, I fuckin’ hated him.

  “It’ll be okay when we’re freakin’ out of here, and I’m in Austin, and you’re nowhere freakin’ near me anymore,” I grumbled.

  A gleam entered his eyes. “Austin?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, why?”

  His grin slid back into place. “No reason.”

  I didn’t like the look on his face when he said that.

  More so, I didn’t trust it.

  “Tide and Coreline,” I heard a familiar voice say. “Why does it not surprise me that not only are y’all late for third period, but you’re also together?”

  I turned to see Principal Archie looking at us with narrowed eyes.

  I groaned.

 
I could not handle another after-school detention with either of the two.

  I showed him my elbow and said, “Sorry, Principal A. But I fell and hit my elbow really hard, and I was trying not to throw up.”

  Principal Adams blanched. “Ouch.”

  I looked at what I could and agreed. It looked really bad.

  The bruising was already starting.

  “Mr. Crow, did you have a part in that bruise?” Principal A asked casually.

  Too casually.

  I nearly laughed as I walked away, leaving him to answer for his sins.

  But the abuse didn’t stop.

  It only got worse as the day went on, and by the time that school let out later that afternoon, I’d been ‘Amber Alerted’ at least four more times by Tide and teased mercilessly over lunch.

  I was over it.

  So over it, in fact, that seeing his face as I was walking home while he drove by infuriated me.

  What infuriated me more was that my brother was with them, hitching a ride, and none of them stopped to ask if I wanted a ride or not.

  The assholes.

  I all but marched my happy ass to my dad’s work after that, pissed off and angry at the world. Or maybe just Tide ‘Rook’ Crow.

  I called him Tide. I refused to call him by that stupid nickname that everyone else called him.

  Rook.

  That was just dumb.

  “What’s crawled up your ass?”

  I looked up, not realizing I’d stomped my butt right into my dad’s open bay door, until that very moment.

  I showed him my elbow, which had a gnarly bruise on it. “The asshole pushed me over again.”

  My father’s eyes narrowed as he saw the bruise.

  My dad knew all about Tide Crow.

  He knew about all the Crows.

  I mean, there was Jeremiah Crow, who was his best friend. Jeremiah was the uncle to all the other little Crows. Not to mention, Price Crow worked in my father’s shop during the summer and sometimes on the weekends when he wasn’t busy with sports.

  Dad liked all the Crows. Except for Tide.

  Why didn’t he like Tide?

  Because I didn’t like Tide.

  Tide was the bane of my existence. The boy-man that went out of his way to hurt me. The constant tyrant at school that made going there hell on earth.

  Luckily, we had one more week until graduation.

  Unluckily, that only meant that I’d have to spend another summer with his brother working at my dad’s shop with me. His brother who always attracted his other brother because they were practically best friends.

  But, on the bright side, that only meant that we were that much closer to college. And I was going to Texas State Technical College to become a welder in Austin. Which meant I’d be hours and hours away from him soon.

  All I had to do was make it through the summer.

  Oh, and the last few days of school.

  How hard could it be?

  Turns out, not only was it hard, but he followed me to the same fuckin’ city three months later.

  Fuck my life.

  CHAPTER 1

  I solve all my problems by creating three new ones as distractions.

  -Tide to Haggard

  TIDE

  “Who’s this fuckin’ weirdo sitting next to us?” I asked my sister.

  Cannel looked from the soccer game where her nieces were playing soccer, to the woman next to us.

  I knew exactly who the weirdo was that was sitting next to us the moment she turned and glared. I also knew that weirdo could hear us, but I hadn’t actually thought I’d know the weirdo.

  Yet that didn’t stop me from needling her. Or giving her shit.

  Because giving shit was what Coreline “Elvis” King and I did best.

  “That’s Coreline. Her sister is number nineteen.” Cannel looked at me curiously. “Why?”

  “Because she’s screaming so fucking loud, I burst an eardrum,” I grumbled, sure my little Elvis could hear that, too.

  The screaming started again, and I looked up to find number nineteen had the ball, and she was dribbling it down the field.

  Number nineteen was leaps and bounds better than anybody else on the field, and you could tell that the kid had talent. Even worse, everyone else could, too. Meaning she was targeted by the entire team not even a few seconds later.

  There was a whole lot of pushing, and against four people, there wasn’t much the girl could do but fight the inevitable fight. The inevitable being the ball being taken away and a foul occurring.

  Coreline stood up and started yelling at the ref.

  “Are you freakin’ blind!” Coreline bellowed. “Number seven on the other team is going to hurt someone!”

  The ref looked at her with a bored expression.

  Only this time, I actually agreed with her. Number seven on the other team was definitely aggressive. As in, she was going to hurt someone one of these times.

  Number seven had performed the most blatant foul, in the box, at that.

  In all honesty, the kid should’ve gotten a yellow card, and a PK—penalty kick—since she’d done the fouling in the box.

  But the ref was either blind or stupid.

  Maybe both.

  Because not even the next play the little girl made, the kids were back to fouling, and the ref was back to being blind.

  “Are you freakin’ joking me, you useless pile of shit?” Coreline yelled at the ref, making me tilt my face down to hide the laughter at her words. “You can clearly see that she’s being pushed around. If one of those kids hurts my sister, I’ll literally shove my fist up your ass!”

  At that point, I was full-on laughing into my hand.

  My shoulders were shaking, and I couldn’t hold in the snort that was fighting its way free.

  The ref blew his whistle, stopping the game.

  Then he started marching across the field with purpose.

  I stood up myself, torn on whether to let the ref tear into her for her words—in front of a bunch of ten and eleven-year-olds at that—or make my way over to show that Coreline, despite being the bane of my existence, wasn’t alone.

  Before I could move in either direction, Coreline stormed the field when one of the girls chose that moment to push her sister to the ground.

  The kid—Enola, if I could remember correctly—popped up and threw a perfectly formed fist at the girl that’d actually pushed her to the ground.

  Number nine, the pusher, went down hard with her hand at her cheekbone.

  Good of Enola not to hit the nose. Blood would be hard to hide.

  Several other parents booed loudly, causing the ref to turn to see what the problem was, then there were even more parents storming the field, wanting Coreline and her sister ejected.

  “Oh, boy,” Cannel said quietly.

  I agreed.

  The ref threw up a red card.

  “What’s that mean?” I wondered aloud.

  “That means that she’s been kicked out of the game,” Cannel whispered.

  “How the hell are they going to kick a parent out of a game?” I grumbled.

  “They won’t let the game resume until she’s gone,” another mom, obviously one with more knowledge of the game than my sister, answered. “See, she’s leaving. But she’s right.”

  I agreed that she was right.

  “Will you make sure that Toddy gets back to me?” Coreline asked the girl sitting next to her. The one that’d been reading a book the entire time. “I’m serious, Alison. Make sure you watch.”

  Alison sighed. “Yes, Mother.”

  “Alison,” Coreline said carefully. Quietly, as she packed up her stuff. “If you forget about her because you’re too busy being selfish, I will fuck you up.”

  With that parting comment, she shouldered her bag, the can cooler—that wouldn’t surprise me if it had a White Claw in it—and her purse.

  She started walking to the other team clapping.

  On her way out, she flipped them all the bird and yelled, “Play hard, Toddy! I’ll be watching from the parking lot.”

  “You’ll be leaving,” the ref countered.

  She snorted and kept walking, not bothering to reply.

  Which had me smiling, despite the fact that she annoyed the piss out of me.

  “Since when does she have a sister?” I wondered aloud.

  I’d known Coreline since we were both in high school. We’d then both moved to Austin within months of each other, ran into each other more than we’d found comfortable, and moved back home at the same time, too.

  I would’ve thought I’d have known if there were sisters…

  The rest of the game went about as it’d started, though, ‘Toddy’ or Enola as Cannel had called her, had become better at avoiding the other little pushy girls by putting on a jolt of speed.