Pretty Little Savage (Sick Boys #1) - Lucy Smoke Page 0,87
his bike. My knees threaten to crumble beneath me, but I hold fast and steady, forcing myself to appear unaffected. Inside, though, my nerves are on red alert.
I feel alive. Like the moments right before a fight. Except I don't expect to defend myself against Dean the same way. He's cunning, sharp. Ruthless. I watch his movements carefully as he strides over to the bike and lifts one leg over the seat before reaching down and retrieving the helmet I'd carelessly dropped alongside it, not caring that it probably cost several hundred dollars.
"You never told me what you meant by what you said," I say as I take a step towards him.
He lifts the helmet in my general direction as he slides the glasses back over his eyes. "Guess you're going to find out, aren't you?" the asshole comments without remorse.
I sneer at him, stalking forward and ripping the helmet from his grasp. "This will be your only warning, Dean Carter," I state.
He leans back and slides both hands into his hair, pulling the strands back from his face so I can see him clearly—every chiseled and stubble-jawed inch of him. "Oh?" He smirks.
I scowl and lean into his face as I clutch the helmet. "You fuck with me and I will fuck with you ten times as hard," I hiss.
His lips part, his tongue coming out to slide across his lower lip as he bares his teeth. "I look forward to it, Avalon. If anyone can take me, I wanna see if you can."
He's playing with me. He has to be. But I don't give him the satisfaction of an answer. He can have the last word if he wants it. I've given him fair warning. Shoving my head back into the helmet, I strap it on and climb onto the back of his bike as it roars back to life.
"Don't forget to hold on," he says. "We've got a bumpy ride back."
Dean can't see the glower as my hands find the sides of his abdomen. Out of pure spite, I sink my nails into him, grinning when he grunts.
That tiny victory is short lived as he leans back and speaks again. "Be angry all you want, baby," he says. "Just remember I, too, give as good as I get."
My hold loosens, but only marginally, as we take off and I turn back, wanting to see the ocean one last time—the only good thing that came out of this night. Instead, all I see is the red glow of the taillight on the pavement beneath us like an ugly eye watching our every movement. The entire high from my adrenaline rush has seeped out of me within a few hours when usually it takes days or maybe even weeks for the need to build back up.
Dean is no good for me, but my one consolation is the fact that I'm not good for him either. If he tries to take me down completely, he'll find himself a King without a throne.
33
Avalon
Dean Carter is proof that not all demons live in hell. Some of them walk among us. He certainly does. With his head held high and an eternal smirk on his face like he can't help but laugh at the rest of the world. It pisses me off.
After our little foray at the warehouse and the midnight ride, I'm ready to just try and get back to a normal schedule the next day when I walk into class. But all my good intentions go up in smoke when I spot the object of my annoyance and persistent hatred sitting in my seat.
The girl behind me slams into my back when I come to an unexpected stop just inside the door, causing me to clench my teeth as she accidentally hits a few of the lingering bruises from the night before.
"Ugh, watch it," she grumbles.
I don't think, I just turn around and level her with a glare. "You fucking watch it, bitch," I snap back. Today is not the day to fuck with me.
She scoffs but turns her head away as she slides around me and hurries to her seat. Abel looks up from his spot and waves me over. I ignore him, taking the steps two at a time as I climb to the now unoccupied seats they've been using since they transferred into this class. The ones they used to watch me from afar. I can feel Dean's eyes following me.