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“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed.
I shrugged, standing my ground as my chest rose and fell heavily.
“Nothing. And nothing will be wrong with you if you keep your hands off what’s mine.” My gaze flicked to Bishop, who was standing stock-still, observing everything, then to the other two boys. “I belong to them. And they belong to me.”
Someone in the crowd whistled, and a few other whoops and catcalls rose up. The girl flushed red, anger warring with fear as her gaze darted from me to the boys and back again. I stayed poised and ready for a fight, and each one of the Lost Boys met her look with a stony glare. Even the two boys Bish and Kace had been talking too had backed away, refusing to have this girl’s back.
She held up her hands, grimacing as she let out a scoffing sound. “Ugh. Fine. Whatever.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I pointed toward the kitchen door, ignoring the fact that my hand shook from the torrent of adrenaline crashing through me. “Now get the fuck out.”
The girl straightened, tossing her red-brown hair over her shoulder in an attempt to reclaim whatever dignity she could. Her gaze flicked to the boys again. “I hope you all like crazy.”
With that, she limped unevenly toward the door—one of her heels had broken in the fight, I realized. Taunts and laughter following her, but once she was gone and the spectacle was over, the buzz of loud conversation resumed around us.
But for several long moments, I didn’t move, and neither did any of the Lost Boys. They were all staring at me as though they had no idea who I was, and I brushed my fingertips over the smooth metal of my bracelet, letting the feel of it soothe me.
Then, without warning, Bishop stepped forward and gripped my upper arm.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
His voice was hard, his entire body vibrating with tension, and it was the only thing he said before he turned and dragged me through the crowd.
Shit.
Did I do something wrong?
Nerves made my heart beat harder as he pulled me along through the press of bodies, which parted to let us through. A few curious gazes landed on me, but I was too distracted to shrink under the scrutiny. I had a sudden horrifying certainty that I’d just done something monumentally stupid. That I’d crossed some invisible line I never should’ve breached, and that I had angered my three protectors by doing so.
These weren’t supposed to be the terms of the deal, after all.
I had agreed to belong to the Lost Boys in exchange for their protection.
But they had never agreed to belong to me.
Things had felt different between us all lately. So many things had happened, and so much seemed to have changed, but maybe I’d misread the signals. Maybe the emotions I was feeling were entirely one-sided.
Hurt and defensive anger built up in my chest as Bishop dragged me upstairs, the other two boys so close behind us I could feel the heat of them at my back.
Dammit. Would they take back their
offer? Would they claim I’d violated our agreement somehow? Would they abandon me, leave me to fend for myself in the halls of Slateview from here on out?
My heart seized with fear at that thought—but it wasn’t so much fear at what the other students might do to me. It was fear of what losing these three boys would do to me.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes, and when Bishop pulled me into an empty bedroom at the end of the hall that ran through the long row house, I yanked my arm out of his grasp, stepping away and turning on him as Kace and Misael entered, slamming the door shut behind them.
“You can blame me if you want, but I don’t—”
I didn’t even get a chance to finish my half-formed, angry excuse.
Before I could say another word, Bishop reached me in a single long stride and wrapped his arms around me, kissing me like he might never come up for air.
Twenty-Nine
I was so startled, my legs almost gave out.
My knees wobbled, and I stumbled backward a little—but there was no chance of falling over. Not with Bishop’s strong arms banded around me like a vise, holding me up as his lips devoured mine.
