Home > Shield(8)

Shield(8)
Author: Anne Malcom

“Lucian,” I warned.

His emerald eyes flickered to me, keeping the gun raised for a beat longer, like a petulant child might to remind the mother that it could, then lowered it. He didn’t even get it to the holster at his hip before Gage moved in a blur. When they both came into focus again, Gage was holding Lucian’s gun to his temple.

The rest of the team scrambled for their weapons, eyes panicked. I rolled mine and sighed audibly. Gage wasn’t even breathing heavily, his almost-finished smoke still hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t like guns waved at my head by people who don’t know how to use them,” he said.

Lucian glared. “I know how to use it.”

Gage smiled. “You knew how to use it, I’d be dead.”

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Rosie


Age Fifteen


A group of kids were hassling some girl in the halls. Calling her names, tossing her backpack to-and-fro so she couldn’t catch it.

It pissed me off. A lot.

Mean for the sake of mean. There was no excuse for being a shitty person when you had no reason. Sometimes life gave you a shitty deck, and to play that deck you had to be kind of shitty too. But never to innocent people.

I snatched the bag out of the air, scowling at the hair-sprayed teenager I didn’t know the name of. I didn’t care to.

“You’re such fucking clichés, aren’t you?” I glared at the group, giving a gentle look to Aimee, the small and quiet girl they’d been tormenting. I handed her back her bag. She took it gratefully with a shaky smile.

“This is none of your business, Rosie,” one of the jocks said. “What do you care?”

“Call me crazy, but I care when I see idiotic clones tormenting someone for daring to be individual because they’re so fucking insecure that they don’t know what else to do. How about you go shower with your buddies and pretend not to be checking out their asses while you plan your next date rape?” I asked sweetly. “And if I hear you’re hassling Aimee again, I’ll blow up your BMWs… with you inside them.”

A small smile danced at the corner of Aimee’s lips and she pushed her hair behind her ear self-consciously, not realizing how pretty she looked. I hoped one day she’d learn that for herself. That someone told her that.

I could tell the little Cruel Intentions club wanted to say something back. Wanted to snatch back the power they thought they had in this school. But they wouldn’t. Not when they knew my threat wasn’t empty. Not when they knew the motorcycle club that ran the town would burn their houses to the ground if they did anything to me.

Not that I needed them. I could take care of myself. Rather well, thank you very much.

“What are you waiting for? Shoo, clones.” I made a motion with my hands and one of the jocks actually flinched, like he thought I would hit him or something.

Cowards.

That’s what those who picked on others were. The weakest of us all, trying to hide it by preying on someone else.

They scuttled away rather quickly.

I winked at Aimee, who was watching their retreat in awe.

“You okay, babe?” I asked her, softening my voice.

She smiled. She really was beautiful. “Yeah, thanks, Rosie. That was, um… you’re not really going to blow up their cars with them inside them, are you?” she whispered nervously.

I laughed. “No, of course not.”

She visually sagged.

“I’ll make sure they’re not in them. Promise.” I did a Girl Scout salute.

She laughed nervously. “You don’t need to do that because of me. It’s not a big deal.”

I lost my smile. “It is a big deal. Because they made you feel small, didn’t they? For no reason other than they’re jealous and ugly creatures. No one should make another human being feel like that. Just… don’t let them, okay? You’re so much better than them.”

Aimee’s face changed at my words, seeming to not know what to do with them. That hurt me. She obviously hadn’t had much experience with compliments, which meant her parents were A-grade assholes. I just had a club of men who broke the law for a living and I still had experience with love and support.

This was a majorly fucked-up system.

The system being life.

“Thanks,” she said finally.

The bell tolled and I inwardly groaned at my upcoming Calculus final, then decided to ditch. What use was Calculus going to give me in the real world?

None.

“I’ve got to get to class,” Aimee said, her eyes darting around at the rapidly emptying halls.

I nodded. “Sure, yeah. Just let me know if they give you any trouble again, okay?”

She nodded and smiled again. “I don’t think they will, but thanks.”

I smiled and watched her walk away, hoping this world wouldn’t grind her down and hating that I already knew it probably would.

I had experience in that.

“You know, you should probably make sure you don’t have any witnesses when you threaten murder and arson,” an amused and deep voice said from behind me.

Every cell in my body froze. The only voice that could do that to me. Make my stomach roil so the PB&J I’d had for lunch churned unpleasantly in my stomach. I wasn’t like that with anyone. Which was saying a lot since I had a motley group of murderers and ex-cons as my constant company and babysitters.

Not that I needed to be babysat anymore.

Hadn’t since I was seven years old.

But a motley group of murderers and ex-cons was more protective of me than a minister and his wife were of their treasured daughter. I’d bet their treasured daughter wasn’t a virgin, like this biker princess. In fact, I had it on good authority that Lila, the preacher’s daughter, was pretty much as far from a virgin as a fifteen-year-old could be.

Like I said, fucked-up system.

I whirled around on my heel, trying for casual. My eyes met steel first—the shield pinned on top of his perfectly pressed uniform, which covered his perfectly defined pec. My gaze traveled upward, noting the cords in his throat, the movement of his Adam’s apple when he swallowed, the square and smooth jaw, always perfectly shaved. Then I got to the eyes. The ones that were the perfect shade of turquoise. If you asked me what my favorite color was in public, I’d say black, like my coffee and my soul. If you really asked me, I’d say turquoise with flecks of green, like Luke’s eyes. Of course, I’d never say that out loud.

Usually on the occasions I’d met those eyes, they were as hard as actual turquoise. Now they were liquid stone, twinkling with amusement.

That told me that there was no one else around, the halls empty. I knew Luke would never look at me with anything resembling affection if he had witnesses. He had a reputation to uphold, after all. And so did I, for that matter.

Fraternizing with the enemy wouldn’t do well for either of us.

But that wasn’t what made my heart fracture the ribs containing it when our eyes locked. Maybe it was part of it, the fact that he was forbidden. Different. But it was more than that. He was everything I couldn’t have. Everything I wasn’t.

And a lot of other things I couldn’t explain. Couldn’t pinpoint.

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