My rage was clouding my judgment, so much so that I wanted to smash Lucas’s face in. And for what? To defend her honor? It was clear she had none from the moment she welcomed the first John between her legs.
“Besides…” Z smirked when I glared. “She’s your target, not your damsel.”
Chapter Twelve
Pick on someone your own size.
MIAN
Eight Years Ago
My scraped hands rested loosely against my sides as I limped home.
No.
Not home.
It was just the place my father dumped me so he could rob and chase riches around the world with Uncle Art. Some days, I questioned why I still loved him despite his need to keep distance between us. I had been reduced from being his favorite person to spend time with to an obligation he checked in on whenever he remembered I hadn’t died with Mom.
I dug out my keyring when I reached the brownstone. The rough material of my shorts rubbed against my sore hands, and I hissed from the sting. My knees were just as bad and so was my busted lip from hitting the ground when I fell.
I turned the key in the lock and pushed to open the door, but it didn’t give. I twisted the knob again but the door refused to budge, and I realized the top lock must have been turned. Disgust made me forget my scraped hands and knees.
He was in there.
With a girl.
He always locked the top lock to keep me out when he was entertaining someone.
Yuck.
Except, not yuck.
Angel Knight was hot—a fact that couldn’t be denied. Not even by me. I just could never figure out why the thought of him with girls made my stomach turn. Sighing, I took a seat on the stoop and waited for him to finish. An hour later, the door opened and out stepped a leggy blonde with a satisfied smile. I turned my head when I saw her lean in for a goodbye kiss and cringed when I heard their lips meet.
A deep groan came from beyond the door, and the kiss went on.
After three minutes of nonstop lip locking, I decided I’d had enough.
I coughed and coughed again until I was pretending to have a choking fit finally gaining their attention.
“Calm down, kiddie tits. We’re done.” I heard his laugh just before he disappeared back inside without me seeing him.
I glared at the blonde as she practically skipped down the sidewalk. I shot up with a huff but then winced when my knees reminded me of my injuries.
After walking inside, I came to a dead stop when I found him standing there waiting for me with a bored look.
“What?”
“What happened to your lip?” His tone matched his face until his gaze trailed down and stopped at my scraped up knees. “Jeez, did you fall?” Dark brown eyes watched me curiously.
“You can say that.” I avoided his gaze and limped around him. There was a first aid kit in the bathroom that I desperately needed.
“Bullshit. You got beat up, didn’t you?” I heard his mocking laugh. It was closer than it should have been since I walked away, which meant he had followed me. “What’s her name?”
I stopped at the top of the stairs and whirled around to face him. “Jesse Newman. And she isn’t a girl.”
The smile dropped from his face quicker than it appeared. “Say what?”
“He’s even meaner than you . I hate him.”
I hate you.
“You’re fucking with me, right?”
“Nope.” I turned and limped the rest of the way to the bathroom. I could see from my peripheral that he was still standing at the top of the stairs. Stupidly, I met his gaze. He definitely wasn’t laughing anymore.
*
I walked through the front doors the next morning dreading school. Last night, I bandaged my palms and knees and treated my busted lip as best as I could and forced myself through my homework assignments. I hadn’t heard a peep from Angel after I told him I was beaten by a boy. Was he upset that he wasn’t the only one getting a kick out of making me miserable?
Angel never did seem like the sharing type.
I found the object of my thoughts standing at the bottom of the stoop, dressed in a white muscle shirt, black shorts, and a frown. “Took you long enough.”
Was he actually waiting for me?
“Are you waiting for me?” My brain screamed for me to move, but my feet refused the command.
“What was your first clue?” He tilted his head as if he really expected an answer.
“Why?”
“I’m walking you to school.”
“Why?”
“That the only question you know?”
“Okay… what for?”
“Just come on,” he bit out showing his impatience. Five quick steps later, I was standing beside him. Rolling my eyes didn’t make me feel any better, so I looked up with a quirk of my eyebrow— God, he was tall —and waited. He started walking, and I followed. We made the fifteen-minute walk in ten with his long strides and me practically running to keep up.