I stare up at Kurt and Irene’s house. It’s just before seven in the morning and I can guarantee Irene is locked in her room, fast asleep, while Kurt is sprawled out on the couch.
I have two options. I can either sneak through my bedroom window, grab my things, and be out of there in no time, or I can make a fucking scene.
Damn it, what kind of obvious choice is that?
I go for the fucking scene.
I slam my way through the front door, letting the wood splinter and break. The door rebounds off the adjoining wall and I watch in satisfaction as Kurt jumps awake on the couch, more than terrified for his life.
I barge my way through the house, making as much noise as possible. I grab my duffle bag and throw every one of my belongings into it then race back out of the shitty little room, pleased that I’ll never have to walk in here again.
By the time I come back out to the living room, Kurt is still trying to peel himself off the couch, and as he looks up at me, he blinks a few times, hardly able to believe I’m here. “Surprised to see me?” I growl as I look down at him with disgust.
He tries to stand but I shove my palm against his shoulder, sending him sprawling back to the couch. I lean into Kurt, dropping my duffle bag to the filthy carpet as I crowd him onto the couch, letting my feelings for him fly free. “Listen here, you dirty, drunk sleaze,” I spit, letting him see exactly what I think of him. “I will come back here, and when I do, you better be ready because I am going to slit your throat for what you did to me. You hear me? I’m going to fucking kill you.”
Kurt laughs and pushes me back, sending me back a step and surprising me with the strength that he has after spending another night drowning in alcohol. “Don’t you come into my house making threats, bitch. You should be grateful that I gave you a place to live.”
“You sold me to a fucking sex-trafficker. You should be grateful that I didn’t send your ass to prison, but there’s no point because you’ll be dead before that happens.”
“All talk,” he laughs. “All fucking talk.”
Without a second of hesitation, I rear back and slam my fist right into his nose, feeling the cartilage shatter beneath the force. The satisfying crunch echoes through the room, and I know that one sound will stay with me for the rest of my life.
Kurt falls back into the couch as blood rushes from his nose, and all I can do is laugh as I shake out my hand, desperately wishing that I had my brass knuckles wrapped securely around my fingers. It would have made this moment so damn perfect.
“You fucking bitch,” he roars, holding his nose and choking on the blood that pours down the back of his throat.
All I can do is laugh as I scoop up my duffle and turn for the door. “All fucking talk, my ass,” I scoff, grinning back at him before walking out the door and leaving the fucker wide open so the rest of the street can watch and see just how damn pathetic he really is.
After pulling my helmet back on and awkwardly climbing onto my bike with my duffle bag pulled over my shoulder, I hit the throttle and fly back through the city until my knuckles are wrapping against a heavy door.
Ember’s face appears a second later, and before I can even get a word out, she crashes into me and wraps her warm arms around me, holding me tight. “You’re fucking staying here with me, bitch,” she tells me, making me wonder if maybe the guys have already gotten to her. “I’ve already cleared it with my parents, now hurry up and come in, Mom’s already cooking us breakfast.”
CHAPTER 20
The top of my pencil freezes against the desk as I stare at the door of the classroom, watching as Cruz happily welcomes himself in despite not being part of this class.
What the fuck does he think he’s doing?
He walks through the rows of students, only stopping when he steps up beside the kid who sits right by me. “Move,” he says, making the kid practically shit his pants and fly up out of the chair as the teacher gapes at him, her mouth hanging open, as for the first time all morning, she finds herself lost for words.
Cruz drops down in the now vacant seat beside me and swivels until he’s staring right at me with that goofy-as-fuck grin stretched wide across his far too handsome face. I stare at the teacher dumbfounded. Is she planning on doing something about this or just going to keep standing by and let Cruz do whatever the fuck he wants?