Punk 57(52)

She takes a step, trying to leave, but I pull her back. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“This is none of your business!” she whisper-yells, yanking her hand free and scowling at me. “You don’t know me.”

“Does anyone?”

She looks away, her eyes suddenly glistening. After a moment, she speaks, her voice low. “I don’t want to be alone,” she admits. “They may hate me, but they respect me. I can’t be invisible or laughed at or….” She trails off and then continues. “I don’t know why. I just never had the courage to stand apart. I always wanted to fit in.”

“Everyone wants to be accepted, Ryen.” Does she think no one’s ever had those same feelings? “Why do you write on the walls?”

She stands there, staring off and looking like she’s struggling to find words.

“Misha…” she says, trailing off again.

I tense, my heart picking up pace.

But then she shakes her head, letting the thought go. “It doesn’t matter. I just had ways to vent before, a way to be heard, and now I don’t. I just started doing it a couple of months ago.”

A couple of months ago. Shortly after I stopped writing her.

I blink long and hard.

The fake friends, the hovering parent, the worry and stress of wanting to fit in just like most any other person out there… I was her bouncing board.

I was so caught up in my own loss and anger, I never stopped to think how suddenly abandoning her after seven years would hurt her. Not that I’m responsible for her actions, but I am responsible for mine. She relied on me.

“Why are you here?” she asks, turning it around on me.

I look at the duffel bag in my hand, unashamed I needed a shower, but then that answer would lead to more questions. Why am I living at the Cove? Where are my parents?

“Mmmm,” she gloats, a fake smile on her pretty face. “So others have to own up to you, but not the other way around, huh?” She backs away toward the stairs. “My mom is only a phone call away. I’ll get taken straight home with a slap on the wrist. Hope you enjoy your long, hard night in a cold cell,” she taunts and then calls over her shoulder. “Oh, Mr. Security Guard? Help!”

She spins around, and I reach out and grab her, pulling her back into me. “Shut up!” I growl, clamping a hand over her mouth.

But she immediately slams her elbow into my stomach, trying to get away, and I stumble backward, pulling her with me. She loses her footing, falls into me, and we both tumble to the floor.

I grunt, my back hitting the ground and my arms still around her struggling body. She lies on top of me, her back against my chest.

She squirms, trying to get away, the friction of her ass pressing into my groin. I tense, heat blanketing me.

Fuck.

She pulls my hand away, gritting under her breath. “Let me go.”

“Stop moving then.”

“You don’t get to judge me,” she goes on, turning her face to me, her breath falling on my cheek. “Or jerk me around or make demands. I’m none of your business.”

Her body struggles in my arm, and her ass rubs against me again, making me groan.

But then I hear something.

I take her jaw, forcing her still as I whisper against her ear. “Shhh.”

She suddenly stills, and we both stop breathing as the guards enter the library.

I catch a flash of light through the stacks and hear keys jingle. They’re talking, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.

Ryen casts a worried look up to me, and I stare back, holding her gaze.

“What are you going to do?” I whisper low, for only us to hear as I search her eyes. “You gonna turn me in?”

She lies there, breathing in and out but not making a move. My arm around her waist tightens, and I can’t stop myself from moving my thumb over the skin of her jaw.

Her eyes—those blue eyes—have a dozen different emotions going on in them when she looks at me. She can say the nastiest things, but if I see fear or sadness in her eyes, I’m done for.

Her rash guard has ridden up in the struggle, and a few inches of skin is exposed. I slowly slide my fingers over her stomach, watching as her eyelids flutter closed.

“Yeah, I told you, man,” one of the guards calls out. “They bolted out the door. Let’s search the grounds.”

I graze my lips across her cheek, her neck arching up more and more until her lips are millimeters away from mine. I can taste her f*cking breath.

“Pull up your shirt.”

She opens her eyes and shakes her head, looking scared.

I lean in, whispering against her mouth. “Come on. I think you like danger.”

My finger is sitting over the pulse in her neck, and I can feel it speed up as I grab her bottom lip between my teeth and drag it out gently.

Her ass slowly grinds into me and I keep my moan silent as I see the flashlights retreat and finally leave the library.

As soon as I see the two sets of boots disappear and the doors close behind them, I slide my hand down the front of her shorts and cover her mouth with mine, letting out the groan I’d been holding back.

Her * is soft and smooth, and I shudder at the heat as I dip my fingers inside of her, feeling how tight she is.

“You’re not my business, huh?” I challenge. “You’re so wet around my fingers. That is my business.” I slide in a second one.