by Eva Ashwood
I shook my head, pushing my hair back and rubbing at my temples. Maybe I was being a little testy—but in my defense, eating nothing but cereal and box meals was starting to get to me.
As I cleaned up, resigned to eating breakfast from a vending machine at school, I heard a car horn blare loudly outside. My brows furrowed, but I ignored it; random bangs, shouts, and other loud noises were common in this neighborhood at any hour of the day or night, something I was still getting used to after living in the bubble of quiet that had surrounded our gated mansion.
Another honk came just a few moments later, and a third one sounded as I was grabbing my backpack. Huffing an irritated breath, I pushed the door open and stepped outside, prepared to glare down whoever was making the racket as I walked past them on my way to school.
But as the door clicked shut behind me, I froze, blinking in surprise.
The Lost Boys’ trashy convertible was parked in our driveway; all three boys sat inside, and all three were looking at me. Waiting. Bishop had his hand up like he was about to lay on the horn again, only to stop when he saw that I’d emerged from the house.
“Jesus! ’Bout damn time!” Misael called. “Hurry up. We’re taking you to school.”
It wasn’t a question. Unlike the tiny window Bishop had given me last night, this time there was no room given for me to say no. I could have tried to resist—could’ve veered left and headed down the sidewalk until they physically forced me into the car or trailed behind me at a snail’s pace like last time. But I had a feeling the boys wouldn’t balk at taking either of those two options.
And if I was being honest with myself, I didn’t really want to walk. I was exhausted and hungry, and the day was already uncomfortably humid.
Was I ready to face the implications of what accepting a ride meant though? To admit that I had accepted their bargain—that I was theirs?
“Come on. We ain’t gonna bite.” Misael grinned. “Bish even kept the front seat open for you.”
My eyes flickered to Bishop, heat rising in my cheeks. He just gazed back at me with half-lidded eyes and an almost bored look on his face. There was nothing in his expression that gave any indication he was thinking about last night—or even that he remembered it.
A strange sort of pain clutched my chest at that thought. He couldn’t have forgotten, there was no way that was possible. But maybe that sort of thing was so common for him that he’d already brushed it aside, added me to a long list of girls and marked another notch in his bed post?
The tightness in my chest got worse, making it hard to breathe, but I straightened my spine and forced my features into an expression matching his. I let a slight smirk play across my lips and arched a brow slightly. Bishop huffed and looked away, shaking his head.
Good. Better for him to think it hadn’t meant anything to me either. And really, what had I expected? That I was special? That what had happened between us had knocked his world off its axis just like it had mine?
It’s not like that, Cora. Don’t ever forget it.
“Uh, seriously, Princess. Any fuckin’ day now.”
Misael’s laughing voice dragged me out of my thoughts, and I jumped as I shifted my gaze back to him.
I bit my lip. It was either walk or ride, and ironically, riding had fewer drawbacks than walking.
Besides… if I rode with them, it might mean that I wouldn’t be bothered by other students today. That Serena and Logan and everyone else would leave me alone.
And I needed that win.
Sighing, I hiked my backpack higher and marched over to the car. Kace rolled his eyes and went back to his phone, Misael grinned at me, and Bishop—well, Bishop shook his head and sighed, peeling away from the curb almost as soon as my butt hit the seat.
“We’ll be taking you to school every day from now on,” he said. “So be ready on time. I don’t like waiting.”
I kept my bag in my lap as we rode to the school, uncertain of what to say, or even if I was supposed to say anything. Was I supposed to do something, other than just… sit here?
“Yo, Bish. Stop up there today for breakfast,” Misael called from the back. I looked around, seeing the run-down Burger King that I passed every day on my way to school.
“You’re gonna turn into a damn burger you keep eatin’ ’em for breakfast, lunch, and dinner,” Bishop muttered, shaking his head but changing lanes to head toward the fast-food restaurant.
“Yeah, well, it’s better than getting Taco Hell. You know how insulting it is they try to pass that shit off as Mexican?”
“About as annoying as it is every time you point out it’s not real Mexican, like we don’t know that already?”
They went back and forth like that, and I sat back, listening quietly. It was weird to see them act like normal boys—or what I assumed was “normal” here, because they still didn’t act like any of the boys I’d known in my old life. Every other time I’d interacted with them, they’d seemed so powerful and dominating, untouchable almost. It felt odd to hear them joke around and banter with each other so casually, and it almost felt like I was seeing something I shouldn’t, peeking behind the curtain at something few people ever glimpsed.
Bishop pulled the car up, sliding behind another that was already in the drive-thru. Burgers for breakfast, huh? I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been at a Burger King. Maybe once when I was out shopping with Ava? But it’d been so many years ago that I couldn’t remember what it tasted like at all.
It was strange to think of fast-food as a foreign thing. I had traveled to other countries and gotten used to their customs and cuisines, but this? This experience felt the most alien to me, and I was suddenly a little self-conscious about that fact.
I tried not to make it obvious that I was watching curiously as Misael leaned forward between the seats, rattling off a few items from the menu. He called them out by numbers instead of the item name itself and stipulated no onions on his. I said nothing; I didn’t expect to be fed. But Bishop surprised me by glancing over at me after the crackly voice coming through the speaker asked if their order was finished.
“What do you want?”
I blinked. “What?”
Bishop sighed. “What do you want? To eat. For breakfast.”
“Oh… I wasn’t going to get anything?” I was confused. Why would they offer me breakfast? Was this even the food I wanted? It had to be better than whatever the ancient vending machine at school had stocked.
He shook his head and turned toward the speaker. “A number five on top of that. Actually—make it two.”
“You got it. Total will be twenty fifty-seven. Pull up to the first window.”
My brows furrowed as I looked to Bishop, but he didn’t comment on the fact that he’d just bought me breakfast. A number five… what was that anyway? I wished I’d paid a little more attention to the menu so I knew what I was getting myself into.
We rolled up to the first window, and Bishop pulled out his wallet. Surprisingly crisp twenties were folded inside—more of them than I would’ve expected. When he caught me staring, his brow rose, and I looked away, my face flaming.
Shit. Was he some kind of gang banging drug dealer or something? Is that where he got his money?
I knew better than to ask, and a few minutes later, three fat paper bags with grease slowly seeping into the bag fibers were passed to us. Bishop tossed them to the back where Misael caught them with practiced ease, and then we pulled out of the lot. As we drove the rest of the way to school, Misael started divvying up the food.
“You ain’t had a breakfast like this, I bet.” He chuckled, passing up two wrapped burgers to me as he took a huge bite out of one that was twice the size of my own. Gingerly, I unwrapped my first burger, not sure if I wanted to dive right into it.
“Simmer down, Princess. It’s not gonna bite you.” Bishop rolled his eyes, sipping out of an extra large soda.
A frown tugged at my lips. I wasn’t afraid of it biting me…
Then
I shrugged, eyeing the burger before opening wide and taking a big bite. It was a greasy, cheesy, tomatoey mess.
But it was also delicious.
I actually moaned, unable to hold it back. It tasted amazing, better than half the fancy dinners our old chef had cooked. Was fast-food supposed to be this good? I’d always thought it was supposed to be convenient, cheap, and accessible. I’d had no idea it tasted like a greasy slice of heaven.
“Well, well, look at that. Uptown Girl likes her some BK,” Misael crowed from the back. “See? Bish told ya it wasn’t gonna bite.”
I flushed, saying nothing as I continued to eat. My gaze met Bishop’s, and there was something like a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth.
His words from last night filtered through my head. I like to hear you moan, Princess.
This was a completely different context, but he still seemed pleased to have drawn that noise out of me. I half expected him to tease me, to say something crude about last night, to tell the other boys I was easy or something. But he said nothing, and neither did I. Instead, I found myself actually enjoying the last half of our short ride to school, my stomach full and my nerves oddly settled in the company of three boys I had no business spending time with.
Several minutes later, we pulled into the school lot, right up into the space that seemed to be the Lost Boys’ personal parking spot—nice and close to the front. I wondered if there was a reason they’d picked this spot. The part of me that still saw them as some kind of lawless gang thought maybe it was for quick getaways if they needed to leave the school in a hurry. The logical part of my mind knew it was probably just because this was prime parking.
Probably.
I’d finished up both of my burgers already. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was. I slid out of the car as Bishop, Misael, and Kace stepped out too. There was a moment of silence as I glanced at the three of them. Should I thank them for a ride and breakfast? It was the polite thing to do, but social conventions were so far from what I was used to in this situation that I really wasn’t sure what the moment called for.
“We’ll take you home later,” Bishop said, steering the conversation before I could make up my mind. “Anyone gives you shit, you know where to find us.”
Misael gave me a grin as the three of them set off. Neither Bishop nor Kace looked at me, but it didn’t matter. Everyone in the vicinity was watching me, and everyone seemed to have gotten the memo already: the Lost Boys had an indisputable claim on me.
Twelve
For the rest of the day, I was left alone.
I got a few dirty looks, especially from girls, but that was the worst of it. Even Serena didn’t bother me. She seemed to hate me more than ever, but she didn’t so much as say a hello or goodbye to me.
It was such a relief, and such a huge change from how things had been that I almost couldn’t believe it. The only thing Bishop, Misael, and Kace had needed to do was tell the school I was off limits, and suddenly I was. I was allowed to study in peace, walk the halls without incident, and come lunchtime, I was actually feeling hopeful that maybe I could get through the rest of my time at Slateview with relative ease.
And all I’d had to do to achieve this peace was give myself over to the three boys who terrified and intrigued me in equal measure.
Was it ideal? Hell no.
But it didn’t have to be ideal. It just had to work.
I walked into the lunch room, very aware of the space I was allowed to have. Where people had actively put themselves in my way the first day, jostling and shoving me, no one bothered me today.
Damn. A girl could get used to this.
Without having to worry about watching my back, I slid into the back of the line and waited. I could have gone for another Burger King burger, actually, but fast-food wasn’t exactly the standard of quality the cafeteria was boasting—which in all honesty, was a bit sad. I picked up my tray of unappetizing food and turned to scan the cafeteria. I spotted an empty table across the room and headed toward it, intending to capitalize on the peace I’d been afforded by eating alone and hopefully not being bothered.
But before I could reach the table, I was waved down by a girl with black hair and choppy bangs. She was sitting with a boy who had mocha skin and closely shaved black hair, and I vaguely recognized them both but didn’t know their names. The boy was broad in the shoulders and looked easy-going compared to most of the people that went to Slateview.
Nervousness settled in my stomach, but I changed course nonetheless. I was learning that resistance was an action best suited for a last resort—and besides, I felt a little more confident knowing I had the Lost Boys on my side. So far, no one had dared to mess with me.
I slowed as I approached the table, chewing my lip apprehensively.
“Hello…?”
“Oh, don’t look at us like that.” The girl laughed. She had a throaty, raspy voice that made her sound older than she probably was, and her brown eyes danced with amusement. “We’re friends with Bish, Reaper, and Misael. I’m Jessica; this is Liam. Bish told us to make sure you had a place to sit if they weren’t at the table yet when lunch started.” She smiled, her red lipstick shining with gloss under the harsh florescent lights.
There was something about her that I liked instantly, an openness that none of my friends back home had ever had, but I still hesitated. I wasn’t sure if she and the boy beside her were genuine or not, and my first instinct these days was to distrust everyone.
Jessica shrugged.
“Hey, you can stand there until they show up, of course. I’m not gonna force you.”
She went back to eating, forking a bite of meatloaf into her mouth. At least, I assumed it was meatloaf. It was hard to tell with school lunch.
Liam looked up to me, deep brown eyes understanding.
“Promise we’re not gonna pull any shit,” he said. “But people are gonna stare if you just keep standing here.”
I flushed. I’d been doing well without too much attention focused on me, and although I felt safer with the Lost Boys’ protection, it seemed wise not to present an easy target. Against my better judgement, I slid onto the bench across from Jessica and Liam.
“See, not so hard, is it?” Jessica smirked. “You really aren’t all that trusting, huh?”
“Bit of an understatement,” I muttered. Why was she being so nice?
“Well, since the guys decided to take you under their wing, you could probably do with being a little more relaxed,” she continued. “No one’s going to hurt you. And if they do, well.” She drew her thumb across her neck, her grin turning feral; I didn’t need to ask what she meant.
“You giving her a hard time already, Jess?”
I jumped, almost knocking my tray off the table. When I glanced up, I saw Bishop, Misael, and Kace walking over with their own trays of food. Bishop sat to my left, Kace to my right, and Misael situated himself—obnoxiously, I might add—between Jessica and Liam. The broad-shouldered boy shot him an annoyed look, and Misael grinned. Liam just rolled his eyes and looked to me.
“See the shit I gotta deal with? Can’t even have lunch with my girlfriend in peace,” he said, but there was no anger in his voice. This must’ve been a typical thing among the group.
Feeling suddenly very surrounded, I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and started to eat.
“So, you show New Girl the ropes yet?” Jessica asked. “I hope you three are being nice to her.” She gave them all a look, like she was lecturing them more than anything.
Bishop huffed a breath beside me, but when I glanced at him, he was looking at Jessica, not me.
“Nice enough,” he said evenly.
I kept my mouth shut, wondering if he was referring to the night before or this morning or something else entirely—and ever grateful that he didn’t elaborate.
“Well, with the way everyone is around here, don’t be dicks.” She left it at that as she tucked in. Bishop shook his head.
“Whatever
. Anyone give you trouble so far?” For the first time since plopping down beside me, he looked down at me. I shook my head.
“Nope. Everyone’s… basically ignored me.”
“Good.”
That seemed to satisfy him. I didn’t know if I should say anything else, but lunch went on without a hitch, and I wasn’t going to complain about it.
Thirteen
“We’re heading down to the warehouse district after school. You’re coming with.”
Bishop leaned up against the bank of lockers next to me as I pulled out the books I would need later for homework. I glanced up to him, confused.
“What?”
“Warehouse district after school. We’re gonna chill. It’s what we do, and you’re coming with.” He tilted his head, shoving his shaggy brown hair back from his face. “Come on Princess, keep up.”
I leveled a look at him as I straightened, books in my arms.
“What is… going to chill? What does that entail?”
“You’ll find out. Don’t take too long.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t like to wait.”
“Nice to see you’re learning.”
The grin he shot me was almost flirtatious, and I hated that it made warmth pool in my belly, made my gaze catch on his lips. He lingered for a second longer, his hazel eyes growing serious as he dropped his focus to my lips too. Then he turned and strode away down the hall, leaving me to rush to my final class of the day.
I tried to take notes as Mrs. Hall lectured, but my mind was already skipping ahead to what would happen after school. Confusion and caution warred inside me as I waited for the day to close out.
Warehouse district? Who went to a warehouse district to chill?
Dumb question. Guys like the Lost Boys did, obviously, and I wasn’t sure why I even bothered trying to figure them out anymore. I should’ve known by now it was a hopeless cause.
The thing was, it was the end of the week, and this was the first time they had mentioned anything like this.
Ironically enough, despite my terror at accepting their bargain, my days with the Lost Boys had been mostly tame. I rode with them to and from school, ate lunch with them and their friends, and fell into step with them when I saw them in the hall. So far, nothing strange had happened.