Vicious Rebel (82 Street Vandals #2) - Heather Long Page 0,23
I’d seen any of the rats come inside since I’d been back, and I hadn’t been hiding in my room. Admittedly, I spent hours in the studio, and one night, I’d snuck out of my room and down to Vaughn’s, but his door had been locked and he didn’t come when I knocked.
I needed Freddie to show me how to pick locks. That would be a useful skill. Which brought me full circle to heading outside. I was in dance capris, one of Vaughn’s shirts that I’d kept over a dance leotard, heavy socks to shield my feet, and a pair of running shoes I’d found in my stuff.
“Sparrow,” Kestrel called, but I kept moving.
The door banged as I strode out of it. There were guys out in the warehouse. More rats probably. Why did they call them rats? Couldn’t they come up with a more attractive name?
They’re a street gang, what do you expect? I ignored the little voice in my head as I made for the exit Rome and I had used that lead to the quiet little alley. An alarm shrilled when I hit the crash bar and opened the door. It cut off before I’d even taken three steps.
The cold air was downright bitter, and frost nipped at my nose as I lifted a cigarette to my lips and lit it. Fuck, it was cold out here. Colder than the day I’d left. There was even a hint of frost on the alleyway, or maybe it was just icy here.
Behind me, the door cracked open as a breeze stirred a lone paper flyer loose from behind a trash can and sent it sliding down the alley in the direction of the street. The cigarette smoke burned my throat and helped settle my quaking hands.
Well, the illusion of it anyway.
I had jitters worse than Freddie had when he’d been throwing up his lungs.
A heavy jacket dropped on my shoulders, and I didn’t look back. Kestrel wore the heavier leather jacket the last couple of days when he left. I guess that should have been my first clue about how cold it was out here.
“If you wanted to come outside…” He didn’t finish the sentence.
I picked an imaginary loose hair from my lower lip before sucking in a deep breath of the smoke. On the exhale, I aimed it upward. “Thank you for not insulting me with some bullshit platitude about just asking you.”
“Well,” he said slowly, circling around me to lean against the wall. In his hand was a cup of coffee, and the steam curled up from it.
It reminded me of my own, and I swallowed a mouthful, actually enjoying the way it burned down my throat before hitting my stomach. It wasn’t so hot that it scalded but definitely hot enough to chase away the chill.
Across from me, Kestrel watched me with those enigmatic eyes housing all their secrets. “We both know that if you wanted to leave, you could have. You’ve had plenty of time over the last few days.”
I froze. Someone had told him? Did it matter who? The idea of Rome or Doc telling on me kind of hurt a little. And Liam? I didn’t know what to do with that. Then again, it didn’t really matter, did it? He knew. “Then why chase me out here?”
“Because it’s fucking freezing,” Kestrel answered easily. “And you don’t have any money or car keys. I’m also pretty sure you don’t know how to drive.”
I glared at him. “I took driver’s ed.”
“But did you pass it?” He raised his eyebrows as he lifted the cup of coffee for a sip.
What a dick.
Still, his eyes almost seemed to gleam with some suppressed mischief.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I muttered, then took another deep draw on the cigarette. It wasn’t doing shit for my mood, but it helped to get out here.
“I would. Especially if I plan on getting you a car to drive.”
The cigarette fell from my fingers. He stepped forward and on it while I stared at him.
“I didn’t…” I’d rather masturbate with sand paper than admit that. Grimacing, I stared down at my coffee cup. “I didn’t fail it, but I couldn’t get enough practice hours in before I had to leave for the next show.”
“How many hours did you practice?”
I got another cigarette out, and he crossed over to light it for me. “Thank you.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard, Sparrow. We used to do this every day.”