Between her, Marcus, and Mr. Sanchez, my basic needs were met and Ava sent Marcus with me to register for school. On the way, we talked about how I needed my diploma to secure a decent job, although the pay I had now was more than I dared hope. With a chuckle, he pointed out how much worse my situation was than his. He added that he could smuggle me out of the city if it became necessary and help me settle in another.
Tearfully, I thanked him, and he shook his head while ruffling my hair. Marcus admitted Ava considered them my guardians and wanted to help however she could. Marcus told me that Mr. Sanchez had a daughter who someone kidnapped as a teenager. So, the tenderhearted older man hoped someone offered kindness to her before her kidnapper snuffed her life. I cried for his loss, and her brief life, which Marcus murmured is why the man wanted to help me. He knew the type of person I was by my stance, and my story cemented his decision.
Confused, I asked Marcus what type of person I was, and he grinned. Placing a finger against his lips, he told me it’s a secret with a sly smile.
I must be the only one who didn’t know, because the ladies in the high school’s office agreed with Marcus. They clucked over my story and assured me they’d do everything possible to ensure I remained hidden from the shadows who salivate over wrapping their fingers around my throat.
Descent into Nightmare
With a sigh, I finished putting the store in order with a satisfied nod only to hear the bell above the door jangle. Since someone might require my presence, I headed towards the registers. Lost in my musings, I didn’t pay enough attention, and I ran into a solid wall of muscle. To add to my embarrassment, I lost my balance and found myself on the floor with a delayed pain radiating through my spine.
Startled, I raised my gaze to meet gorgeous amber eyes so beautiful they would look at home in the face of a wolf. Blinking, I lowered my gaze while my cheeks heated, and I swallowed nervously. While the male I crashed into was breathtaking, the grim scowl on his lips suggested he would not forgive my mistake. I almost glanced at him again, to appreciate his beauty, but the skin between my shoulders itched.
Besides, his image was imprinted on my brain. I was blessed with a photographic memory, so I could see him in my mind. His black hair was long enough to hang in his eyes, which gave him a mysterious air. His face was the epitome of male beauty with hard planes, a firm jaw, and chiseled lips. The top of my head reached his shoulders, since I literally ran into his chest. I didn’t think he had an ounce of fat on him, he was all muscle but comfortingly. Like Marcus. His form felt safe, like he was meant to protect, not cause harm.
Upon realizing I was still dazed, I cursed myself for not apologizing after I ran into him and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, that was my fault,” I kept my voice soft, hoping I wouldn’t draw any more attention. After standing with an inward wince, I kept my gaze low.
“Are you kidding?” The teenager growled while the two guys I belatedly noticed with him scoffed. “A street rat? A fucking street rat!? No. I, Kyler Cooper, reject you, street rat, as my mate.” Snickers followed his words, and I swallowed nervously while the safety I felt before vanished to be replaced by hostility. I took a cautious step back. A scoff left the boy’s lips before his foot hooked behind my ankles, and I found myself on the ground once more.
I bit my lip to keep the whimper of pain from escaping and stood while keeping my eyes down. I knew his type. Staying down wouldn’t save you. I’d rather face the rest of his retaliation on my feet than my ass. A punch hurt less than a kick in the face. “No,” he repeated, and this time, it was a hit to my throat. My knees radiated pain when I fell to them while clutching my neck and struggling to breathe. “The ground is where you belong with the rest of the dirt.” My heart ached at his words, and my brow furrowed while I puzzled over that. I learned years ago to ignore the words people hurled like daggers at those like me who tragedy enjoyed dogging.
A solid kick to my thigh had me on my stomach, and the little air I dragged into my lungs rushed out. “There, now you are where you belong. On your belly in the dirt. Make sure you stay there.” I let my eyes flicker to the back of his head once he walked away. The boy to his left looked back, and while his lips were curled in a cruel smirk, his eyes were full of sorrow and pity. Our gazes met, and I lowered my eyes. A soft growl vibrated the air only to stop when a louder one ended with a sharp snarl.
My brow furrowed
