Page 38 of Falling in Reverse

“For you wanting to stay away so much,” he asserts, jaw locking as he brings his drink to his lips, “you sure did make sure to hang around. And now…you’re fucked.”

TEN

cairo

You’d have to be blind as fuck to not notice Bay Astor. Heedless of cracking me in the balls and clocking me in the side of the head, I’ve allowed this little dark angel—and I’m using that term loosely—to get away with shit others wouldn’t.

And I’m getting really fucking tired of running into this chick.

It’s like she’s a walking plague, and when I’m around, I’m always getting my ass kicked.

And the gun that currently resides in the waistband of my jeans is begging to warn her to stay the fuck in her lane and to stop running into mine.

“You.”

One word and Bay couldn’t say it with more disgust. I’m fully aware that she’s not my biggest fan. However, she started it and my dumb ass kept following Torin around like a lost puppy dog when it came to this girl like I had nothing else in the world better to do.

Reeve flicks an index finger between the both of us and glimpses over at me. “You two know each other?”

Unfortunately.

“We shared a few intimate moments.” I tighten my heavy stare on her. “She likes to headbutt. And throw right hooks. Also into knife play.”

“Fuck me,” Reeve mutters at my side. “I think I’m in love.”

I ignore him, because my boy is only into flavors of the day. He couldn’t last a week with the same chick, let alone fall in love with anybody.

“How do your balls feel?” Bay shoots back with a smug smirk. And this shit might work with Torin with the whole baiting bullshit, but I’m immune.

“They feel great,” I vouch flatly. “I made sure to find some whore to lick them better.”

That’s a fucking lie.

However, throwing shit in her face seems to work. Her temper matches Torin’s and it’s not hard to rile his ass up when the time calls for it or I need him to focus on something.

Bay skews her face at me—unimpressed. “Wow. How you manage to entice anyone at all with that vocabulary is amazing.”

“It wasn’t hard in South Shore. You’d know all about that right, Little Terror?”

Her eyes bulge at the nickname, because it’s not the first time someone has called her that and it wasn’t just anybody either.

“Why did you do that? You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”

The little girl I’m locked into this jail cell with glimpses over her shoulder at me, and she’s stupid. She’s only going to get that cop to come back over here and yell at us again.

She slits her eyes, tiny pieces of dark hair falling into her weirdly-colored blues. They’re bright, and I’ve never seen anyone that’s had that color before.

“Mind your own business,” she snaps, narrowing her gaze at me and steering it back to the fat cop again.

“I will when you stop it.” She ignores me again, pulling off her other pink shoe and examining the distance from the fat cop currently on the phone to how far she needs to throw it and not miss this time. “Stop!”

I leap from the hard bench and grab onto her scrawny bicep, whipping her around to quit it.

“Get off me,” she shouts, right before I tear her shoe from her grip. “Hey!”

“I’m not gettin’ in any more trouble over some dumb girl.” She shoves me backward, but she’s small and weak, getting me to only go half a step. “Knock it off, Little Terror.”

“Give me my stuff, goody-too-shoes.” She attempts to reach for it, but I only hold it over her head. “Give. It. Back!”

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