Page 18 of Savage Salvation

This asshole thinks he can go against me? Not a chance. Especially where Kinsley is concerned. Turning, I step to him, nose to nose. “It’s not your choice, so stay in fucking line before I have to remind you where your place is.”

His fists clench, his body tenses, but he knows not to challenge me. He knows he won’t win. And he knows it’s too late. Taking a step back, his stiff posture remains as he turns to walk away.

“Be sure to not touch what’s mine. You’ll regret it if you do.”

He halts, still facing away from me, then his shoulder stiffly rolls before he continues walking away. I don’t begrudge his need to escape. He’s accepting the reality; slowly digesting that she belongs to me. And there’s not a fucking thing he, or anyone else, can do about it.

13

Kinsley

The chime of the bell signals someone has entered Savage Serenade, and the loud shout confirms it’s not a customer but Cruz arriving for rehearsal. “Hey, Stabby. How’s it hanging?”

“Let me guess. Isaac told you.”

“Hell yeah. I wish I could’ve been there. I’ve never seen an attempted murder in first period before.” Cruz hops on the counter, taking his usual seat.

“Well, you can have my spot tomorrow.”

“Nah. Radon High is more my speed.”

Mine too. But the stipulation in my mom’s will stated that in order to receive her letter, I must graduate from the same school she did. Gage knowing about the agreement makes me more uneasy than anything. He knows I’ll keep putting up with his trifling ass because I need to know what my mom felt important enough to write in a sealed letter stashed away in a safety deposit box that I’ll only have access to once I’m an alumna of Sacred Creed. Danielle hinted (and I speculate) that the information is what Mom never had the chance to discuss with me—my father’s identity.

That’s what I’m hoping for sure, but just getting a message from my mom will be worth all of Gage’s torment, even if a few more attempted murder incidents must be tolerated. But damn, I wish Gage would somehow come to the conclusion that I won’t just bow down to him like everyone else does, including the damn principal.

“Where’s Johnny?” Cruz pulls me out of my thoughts, glancing around the store. “I was supposed to talk to him about renting the studio for some solo rehearsal time.”

“Solo, huh? Already leaving the band behind?”

“It’s not like that. I just need some time to write. I have nowhere at home quiet enough for me to think. Have you ever tried to write lyrics while your little brother yells at his Xbox friends about swords or shields or some crap?” Cruz waves his arms around like he’s fighting off a fierce dragon.

“Nope. Only child.” And while I understand the lack of privacy due to Ryan’s invasive personality, he isn’t anyone I would even consider to remotely to be a sibling-like individual. “But I’m sure Johnny can arrange something. He should be back from his meeting soon.” It’s not like he rents out the space much, only to us and a few private lesson groups occasionally.

“Cool deal.” He drums his knuckles against the countertop for a few seconds before adding. “Have you had supper yet? I’m starving.”

“Yeah. I ate after school.” More like scarfed down a quick bite so I’d have time to run to the bank to pull out the cash I owe Isaac. It’s not as much as I figured the repairs would cost, but still more than I wanted to pull out of my savings. Because while Danielle keeps promising she’ll help me get setup on the West Coast, I know when the time comes “money will be tight” and it’ll be up to me to foot the bill.

And that’ll be better. Because when I get there, I won’t feel indebted to anyone I left behind. Then maybe, I can truly get a fresh start. Whatever that might look like.

“How about it?” Cruz asks, hopping off the counter as Isaac steps up. I must’ve really been lost in my thoughts because I didn’t hear Cruz’s question or Isaac’s arrival.

“How about what?” Isaac asks, saving me from admitting that I was musing instead of listening to Cruz.

“I was asking Kinsley if she wanted to grab a bite to eat after rehearsal.”

“Ah. Sounds good. Count me in too.” Isaac points to himself.

“Okay,” Cruz adds before walking away to enter the studio. Though I’d eaten already, another meal sounds good after skipping lunch. The whole onslaught first thing this morning threw my day off from the start.

“Oh.” I grab my bag and pull out the bank envelope, then hold it out to Isaac. “Here.”

Reluctantly—and after several seconds—he takes it from my hand. “I really don’t want this.”

“It’s my car so drop it. Done deal. We’re moving on.” About the car and other things which shall not be mentioned. Ever again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Isaac, stop. It’s my car and—”