2
Monroe
Shit, what did I do? I had kneed Zeppelin Hunt in the balls. People said that Zepp was the king of Dayton High, but I didn’t think so. No, Hunt wasn’t anything so shiny. He was simply at the top of the food chain—a thug. The bad guy without morals. And in a place like Dayton, that was saying a lot. He was not a guy you kneed in the balls and stole a car from. But if it were a toss-up between him and Jerry, my mom’s shithead boyfriend, I’d take my chances with Zepp.
I gripped the leather steering wheel in my hands, flooring the accelerator as I drove down the deserted county highway. The car fishtailed when I turned onto the dirt road that led to the trailer park. Like the rest of Dayton, it was a shit hole. Park homes littered the place like garbage spilled from a bag. My stomach knotted when I sped past Wolf Brooke’s trailer, hoping Zepp had never noticed I lived by one of his friends. I cut the engine outside my mom’s, hurrying to cover the stolen car with a tarp before I went inside.
My mom had passed out on one of the ratty floral couches, a fresh track mark in her arm. She didn’t budge when the trailer door slammed closed behind me or when a thud came from the back. Jerry stumbled out of the bathroom, the ash falling from the cigarette between his lips when he fastened his belt.
He swiped a hand over his greasy hair. “You get the car?”
I dropped the keys into his waiting palm and held my breath as I shouldered past his huge frame, hoping he’d just let me go. My mom’s boyfriend could be unpredictable at the best of times. I breathed a sigh of relief when I closed the flimsy door to my bedroom and slid the lock in place.
I’d almost fallen asleep when I heard the smash of glass outside somewhere. It wasn’t unusual in Dayton. People were forever fighting, breaking shit, stealing things… The sound of an engine coughing to life made me sit up, though. A horn blared right outside the trailer. Headlights poured through the threadbare curtains, bouncing over the walls of my bedroom as I headed to the door.
Jerry stood at the living room window, the curtain yanked back just as a car gunned it away. I knew—I just knew it was the Hurst. And I knew exactly who had stolen it right off my drive.
Jerry’s angry glare swung to me, his fists already balled. “You get followed, Monroe?” he said through gritted teeth.
“No.”
He moved closer, each step an angry stomp that set my nerves on edge. “Then, you ran your mouth.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I could have told him what happened, but it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. It would have still been my fault. “It got stolen off the drive. That’s not my—”
His hand collided with my cheek, and I hit the floor with a thud. The metallic tinge of blood coated my tongue, and my fists balled. Despite the fear that wound around my throat like a vice, adrenaline fired through my veins, and the urge to fight back kicked in.
“This is your problem, you little cunt.” He jabbed a finger at me. “I suggest you fix it before I take payment in other ways.”
His gaze dragged over me, forcing bile to rise in my throat. Jerry was handsy and threw a mean punch when he was pissed, but the one thing he had never done was try to fuck me. That was more than I could say for every other boyfriend my mother had brought around. I’d learned how to run and hide at an early age. Then how to fight back. That didn’t mean Jerry never would, though, and it didn’t make me any less scared of him. Jerry took joy in my suffering. He liked my pain, my fear. More than anything, though, I think he enjoyed the fight—the fact that I never just took it.
“I’ll get you another car!” My voice broke under the strain of panic.
His eye twitched before he grabbed my throat and hauled me to my feet. He threw his head back on a laugh when my nails raked his arm. Then he slammed me to the wall, the entire trailer rattling from the force. When he smashed his nose against my cheek, I wanted to recoil, but I couldn’t move. “I want that car!” He tossed me onto the floor like trash. “You have two days, Monroe.”
I hated Jerry with a passion; I really did. He wasn’t around all that much, but he made my life hard, just like every other deadbeat boyfriend my mom had dragged through here. It was the way of things in Dayton. A part of life that I hated myself for accepting, though I had no choice. No out. Some kids my age dreamed of a nice life in a big house with a flashy car. I had a single dream: to get away from Dayton. This town was a cesspool, pulling people under, drowning them in its filth. I just had to graduate with good grades. Then I was gone.
Dayton High. I could practically smell the poverty and teenage pregnancy from the parking lot. My best friend Jade crossed the lot and fell in step beside me.
“You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks.” I’d barely had any sleep last night, thanks to a particular asshole.
We stepped through the double-door entrance and into the narrow hallways filled with students. Even through the regular morning chaos, I could spot Zeppelin Hunt a mile away. All six foot plus of tattoos, and arrogance, as always, surrounded by his boys: Hendrix, Wolf, and Bellamy. They leaned against the lockers while a group of girls hovered nearby.
A spark of anger ignited in me. I could not believe he’d come to my house and stolen that car off my damn driveway. I needed it back, or Jerry was going to kill me. And that meant talking to the asshole. As a whole, I didn’t fear Zepp’s bad-boy reputation like most people, but I’d kneed him in the balls—after I had tried to seduce him. He was going to be pissed.
I took a breath and stalked toward him with my fists balled. Just… I was going to be assertive. I’d just tell him. I walked up behind him, the scent of leather and car oil falling over me. Raising my hand, I hesitated before I squared my shoulders and flicked his shoulder. “Hey.”
A hush fell over the hallway when he turned around, leaving me staring at his chest and the black material of his T-shirt plastered over hard muscle. I could feel the gaze of what felt like half the school on me, the minions watching the big, bad wolf huff and puff.
When I tipped back my head, I met dark eyes that were every bit as hard and angry as I had expected. This close, in the daylight, Zepp was the kind of good looking that was impossible to ignore: angular cheekbones, full lips, a permanently tensed jaw. And eyes that promised he’d ruin me in all the worst ways.
“You took my fucking car.”
His nose ring glinted under the harsh, fluorescent bulbs as he cocked his head to the side like a cat toying with a mouse. One side of his mouth quirked slightly, but it was the only crack in an otherwise impenetrable mask. “And?”
“I need it back.”
“And I need my dick sucked.” His gaze flicked over me before he walked off, enormous shoulders parting the sea of people.
My pulse ticked up, both panic and anger fighting for dominance. Zepp was an ass, and being a bitch to him would get me nowhere, so I swallowed down the urge.
I jogged after him. “I’ll give you a thousand bucks for it.” It was most of the money I had, but it was worth it not to have to deal with Jerry.
He stopped mid-stride, turning to glare down at me. There was a pause, a flicker of curiosity that flashed through his eyes, like he could sense my desperation. “Would it make your life easier if I sold it to you?” There was a mocking tone to his voice that made me want to punch him.