Page 88 of I Was Born Ruined (Death by Daybreak MC 1)
Not a chance, I think as I raise a brow, turn, and head back into the hallway. Lunch is nearly over which is fine by me. I’m too sick in the head to eat, too rife with anxiety. My only goal today is to find out where I can go in this building that Crown can’t or won’t follow me.
I come up with a familiar answer: the bathroom.
Surely Grainger told the others how I escaped at the church, so I’ll have to careful. Pulling a disappearing act from the toilets a second time is a slim to none chance.
Not that escaping from school is an option if I want to save Fem and Grey both.
No, I’m starting to think that to get away with this, I’ll have to run from the last place in the world they’d expect it: the clubhouse.
The sound of boots squeaking across the floor precedes Crown’s appearance from around the corner. Wow. Pretty ballsy of him. Usually dad’s goons don’t bother to actually come into the school. I let him walk up to me, drawing stares and wide, wide eyes as he moves past several students fiddling with their lockers.
“You’re not supposed to be in here,” I tell him, wondering as he gets up close if he knows what happened between Beast and Gaz. Or if he knows why.
I wonder if he’ll be able to see past the thick layer of makeup on my face, right down to the bruises and the monster-girl hiding underneath. My mouth curves into a sardonic little smile as Crown pauses and tucks his inked fingers into the pockets of his jeans. That violet and suede smell of his fills my nostrils, but I pretend I don’t like it, leaning back and putting my red leather jacket against the locker behind me. To be frank, I’m wondering why the fuck I even have this jacket. Cat pretty much emptied out my entire wardrobe, leaving behind a single pair of steel-toed boots, three leather jackets, a handful of tees and tanks, and jeans.
That’s it.
Well, I guess I have one skirt left that got jammed under the bed, a single pair of ripped tights that were hiding inside a sock, and a single makeup bag, courtesy of my locker.
Slowly but surely, Cat is cleansing me of my autonomy, my individuality, and my freedom.
If he really thinks he can break me though, he has another thing coming. He might want to take a good, long look in the mirror and remember that it’s his blood in my veins, his stubborn heart beating inside my chest.
“Cat made a deal with the administration,” Crown tells me, giving me a surprisingly kind smile. His body is wide enough to block my view of the other students in the hall, but I can sure hear them, whispering, wondering. Nobody will dare say a fucking word though. Even sheep know when a wolf’s entered the pen.
My mouth tightens, and I look away, past the blue and red tattoo on Crown’s left arm, my eyes focused on the Death by Daybreak eclipse inked into his skin. He seems like a nice guy, but really, he’ll never be anything other than my father’s righthand. And anything attached to Cat is pure poison. I should know: I’m as toxic as they come.
“Is that a cop car?” I ask, lifting my fingers and gesturing at the red and blue ink. It’s hard to see, with his arm bent the way it is, but I’m pretty sure the scene I’m looking at is a police chase.
“It is,” he says, but I don’t get any elaboration. At the very least, he straightens out his arm, so I can get a good look. I make a genuine study of it, silently praising the artist for his attention to detail. “Gidge,” Crown starts after another moment of silence. Any moment now, the bell will ring, and I’ll be spared this painful, forced conversation. My eyes lift up and meet Crown’s green ones. “You can’t run from Cat. You know that.”
“What makes you think I’m going to run?” I ask, stepping forward and sliding my nails up the length of Crown’s bare arms. I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing it. Maybe a goodbye fuck wouldn’t be so bad? I mean, I just got one from Beast. And then before that, Grainger. May as well go all in, right? But Crown … remember how I said that even when he’s bad, he’s good? He reaches down and takes my wrists, moving a step back before he releases me. I pucker my red, red lips and give him a look.
“I’ll see what I can do about Grey,” he tells me, his brunette hair curling slightly around his ears. As I look up into that handsome face of his, I have to resist the urge to brush some of it away. Clearly, Crown isn’t interested in flirting with me. Nah, his tastes run more to lectures. Hard to believe we really fucked that night. “But you have to promise me not to screw things up from your end.”
