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I let out a small laugh.

Maddox, my hero?

She was mistaken.

I was my own hero.

I didn't need him to protect me or my family. I was my own protector in this story. Like Maddox once said, I didn't need a prince charming or a knight in shining armor.

Bethany's first mistake was standing too close to me. She had underestimated me. Once again.

My head reared back before I brought it forward, slamming my forehead into her nose. Hard.

She screamed, her wails piercing, as she pushed away from me. I twisted my arms away, kicked back at my attackers before standing up on my feet again.

I wasted no time and grabbed Bethany by the throat before she could escape and slammed her against the bathroom's wall.

“Don't. Fuck. With. Me,” I hissed. Blood gushed from her nose; it wasn't broken, but I knew it was probably painful as fuck.

She glared at me, but too bad she was no longer in control. Her friends tried to grab my arms, to pull me away from their queen bee, but I held her tighter. Her throat was small and delicate in my hand.

“Don't fuck with me,” I repeated. "You won't like the consequences. You might not like to get your hands dirty, but I don't mind. After all, I'm a poor, dirty rat, right? You don't threaten my grandparents. You don't threaten me. Because trust me, I will destroy you. I have my ways, Bethany Fallon. That's your first and only warning.”

I pushed away from her, and she gasped for breath, wheezing. “You… fucking… bitch.”

Suraiya tried to grab me, but I sidestepped out of her way. “You’ll end up with a broken nose, too,” I warned.

She smartly took a step back, and I smiled. Yeah, maybe I did look like a maniac in the moment, but Riley had been right. I couldn’t let them walk all over me.

Bethany’s minions surrounded her as she moaned and cried about her nose. I gave them a final glance and walked out of the bathroom.

I wasn’t Miss Popular; I wasn’t rich or the cheerleading captain… but the lack of these titles didn’t make me weak because I was no doormat.

The next time they threatened the people I loved, I’d show them my teeth and claws.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lila

I stumbled out of school, my legs feeling a bit shaky. My knees were bruised from where they had slammed me on the bathroom floor. My lips throbbed, and I could feel a headache coming. That was one hell of a slap, kudos to Bethany.

As I walked through the main gates, the bus drove past me, and I stood there, dumbfounded. Damn it, I missed my bus. Fists clenched, I held in the urge to cry because now was not the time for it.

It was cold. I was moody and in pain.

But I. Would. Not. Cry.

“Lila!”

My steps faltered at the sound of Maddox’s voice. Huh.

“Lila, what the fuck?” he called out. I looked over my shoulder to see him running toward me. His mouth was curled in a dark scowl as he approached me.

My dark hair fell as a curtain around my face, and I looked down at my feet. I didn’t want him to see the bruises, didn’t want his pity or his stupid, mocking laugh.

But Maddox, being Maddox…

He crowded into my space, his front pressing against my back. His arm curled around my waist, and he pulled me into his body.

“How did this happen?” he asked, his voice low and serious.

“What do you want?”

“The back of your skirt is ripped. Doesn’t look like an accident. Who did this?”

What?

I pushed away from Maddox and reached behind me to realize that he was right. There was a large tear in my Berkshire skirt, big enough for my panties to be visible and everyone could see it. No wonder I felt the cold breeze on my ass.

Anger flared up inside me, and I let out a shuddering breath.

I didn’t want to cry because I was hurt or humiliated. They were tears of outrage, and I swiped at my cheeks, refusing to let Maddox see them.

“Lila,” Maddox said slowly. The sound of my name came from his lips so softly, as if he cared. It was stupid, but my heart still did a silly jump.

He grasped my shoulders and turned me around to face him. I kept my face lowered, but he was having none of that. His fingers grazed my cheeks, and he brushed my hair away from my face.

When he let out a string of curses, I knew he saw the bruises. His hand clenched my arm, and he dragged me to the bench. I tried to pull out of his grip, but he held tight.

He sat me down and knelt in front of me, looking like a dark, angry warrior. He was…pissed?

“Who did this?” he asked, his voice hard and strained.

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