Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(57)

In the other room, they greet one another. I listen for any indication that Johnny knows what was about to happen between Brawler and I, but I don’t hear anything. Brawler definitely had a hard-on, a stiff cock I was dying to explore.

If Johnny figures it out, I already know I won’t hesitate to run out there to defend him. I’d throw myself, my plan, and everything else under the bus just to save him.

A moment later, footsteps approach the bed. Fingers tentatively touch my hair and work their way through the strands. The touch is soft, but from the musk he brought with him, I know who it is. I open my eyes, and Johnny smiles. On the heels of Brawler’s story, it’s a little harder to pretend right now. How much did Johnny have to do with Brawler’s brother and sister’s death? “I missed you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” I ask, my voice cracking. At least it sounds like he woke me up. He won’t suspect I was just about to get off on Brawler’s fingers.

Johnny leans over me, getting into bed. My heart races, pumping painfully against my chest. My eyes widen with panic until he settles in behind me, lifting the covers to spoon me. He curls his arm under my head and places his other on my hip, squeezing me gently before dropping his head to the pillow. “Good night, Kyla.”

In the other room, the door closes, leaving the apartment empty aside from Johnny and me. I’m still as a stone, but Johnny’s breaths fill the room.

My core is aching. I’m dying to find Brawler again to make sure he knows I’m not doing this by choice. I bite my lip, but the longer I lay there, the more comfortable it is. In his sleep, Johnny pulls me closer, wrapping me in his warmth. By some miracle, it doesn’t take long for me to fall asleep after that.





20





For the next week, Brawler makes himself scarce. I can’t blame him. Johnny is always around, and he’s getting more touchy feely since we slept in the same bed together.

Brawler doesn’t walk me to school like usual. Johnny’s car takes me. If he sees me in the hall, he doesn’t acknowledge me. It’s for the best, I guess. What did we think we were doing anyway? Starting a forbidden romance that could only piss off one of the most influential people in this town?

Not that I don’t think about that moment. The power behind even just the barest touches. In fact, I think about it all the time.

Friday morning, I’m called out of my second period class. The teacher answers a phone hanging on the wall that looks like it’s from the 1990s. “Kyla Samson?” There’s a question in her words, and then she looks around the room like she’s lost.

I roll my eyes, holding my hand up. Bitch didn’t even know I was in her class.

“Oh yes, she’s here,” the teacher says.

For fuck’s sake. Could they at least act like they care even a little?

“She’ll be right down.”

Most people miss the exchange because they’re too busy having their own conversations. The teacher, Miss Frida, was just lecturing from the front of the classroom asking herself questions no one else bothered to answer.

“The principal’s office,” she says as I get up.

If I were in my last school, everyone would be staring, making snide comments and wondering what the hell I did to get myself called to the principal’s office. No one gives a fuck here. Least of all me. I have no idea what this is about, but I’m not that concerned either. For all I know, Johnny could’ve bribed his admin fuck buddy to get me out of school. Not that he’d have to do that. I’d just walk the fuck out if I wanted to. But being here at least gives me some semblance of the real world. All across America, other students are doing this same exact thing. This is normal. And I don’t want to get too far away from normal that I can never go back.

I open the nondescript office door and walk right in. Surprisingly, there are actually people in here right now. Workers. To my right is the woman who gave Johnny a blow job. I give her the middle finger for fun. Johnny came to pick me up from school a couple of days ago, and she tried to get him to come into her office, but instead, he swung his arm around me, taking me out to the car. Regardless of who Johnny is, that woman is a child predator. Fuck her.

“In here, Miss Samson.”

I follow the gruff voice. I’ve never even met the principal. There aren’t announcements in the morning like at every other school I’ve ever been to. I don’t see anyone official ever walking the halls. For all I know, no one in charge is around while we’re here during the day. Hell, I even wonder why a lot of these people bother. Maybe they just want to feel normal too.

I walk into the principal’s office and immediately come to a halt. There’s a gentleman inside with a cheap suit and tie. He has police written all over him. “What’s this about?”

“This is Detective Reynolds. He wants to ask you a few questions.” The principal immediately gets up and leaves the room, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of us in here.

I glare at the closed door. Seriously? “I’m pretty sure this is illegal. I’m a minor,” I say, even though I’m not. I’m eighteen.

“We couldn’t get a hold of your guardians who are on file or else they would be here.”

I snap my mouth shut. I guess I can’t really push this considering the guardians on file here are made up. They don’t exist. Just like Kyla Samson. “Working, I’m sure. You probably know about that,” I say, dragging the lone chair left in the room and moving it a few feet away.