Page 54 of Peaceful Chaos

My shoulder screams at me as I blow dry my waist length hair, but I need to do everything I can to look my best since I'm still going to look like I survived a head on collision. One more look in the mirror and I see a slightly less battered version of myself. It'll have to do.

"You're serious about this?" he says in disbelief as I dig around the dresser for something comfortable to wear that won't press on the bruises on my hip. I find a maxi dress made of soft jersey material and pull it over my head.

I slip my feet into a pair of Chucks and my arms into a cropped blue jean jacket. Carrying my book bag is going to be a bit too much for my injured shoulder. The doctor said it wasn't dislocated, but there is extensive bruising and the muscles are strained. Carrying my bag will only make it worse.

Sin huffs a frustrated sound but hoists the bag onto his own shoulder. "If you insist on going, I'm going to carry your bag. You will wait for me at your desk. I'll take your stuff until you're healed."

He's throwing around more demands, but I force my ire down. The most important thing to me right now is not to miss class. If he's willing to make a compromise, I can muster the maturity to do the same.

I lean in and kiss his cheek. "I can do that," I whisper against his skin.

His cheek brushes past my lips as he turns his face. He kisses me, softly at first, but as I respond he deepens the kiss. Our tongues tangle, and I can feel his frustration. I'm too bruised to do more than kiss him, and I can feel his need to reaffirm our connection. I let all of my feelings for him rise to the surface and flow through the kiss.

He groans into my mouth, and despite my injuries I find myself growing wet and achy in an entirely different way. I wonder if my desire for him will ever diminish. Will there be a day in the future where the need to feel his skin against mine doesn't feel as vital as breathing? I hope not. Even irritated with him, and with nearly every inch of my body in pain, I want him.

"Just for the record, this is a stupid idea," he says before he continues on to the door.

"Your objection is noted," I say. There's less bite in my tone since I'm getting what I want.

The others stand waiting by one of the SUVs Chaos uses to transport us to and from school. Jen gasps when she sees me and rushes to my side.

"What are you doing? Are you sure you should be going to school?" she fusses over me.

Sin crosses his arms across his broad chest. "That's what I said. Maybe she'll listen to you."

I ignore them both and turn to Shane. "How is Ford?"

He woke up before I left the infirmary, but he's far from ready to be released. "He's complaining about being stuck in the infirmary. Insists he's well enough to go back to school."

I shrug. I totally understand the desire to keep moving forward. We've had enough setbacks to last a lifetime.

"Clearly all the sense was knocked out of both of them," Sin grumbles. I shoot him a glare and climb into the back of the vehicle.

Amber follows behind me and digs a pair of sunglasses out of her bag. "Here, these will help with the light sensitivity."

I accept them and slide them on my face. "Thanks. This helps a lot." With the assortment of injuries, I doubt anyone would question the fact I'm wearing sunglasses indoors.

* * *

All eyes trackSin and me as he carries my bag over to my desk at the back of the room. He knocks his knuckles against my desk to get my attention back from scanning the room. "Remember to wait here for me to get your bag."

I nod, and the motion causes a sharp burst of pain to bounce around my skull, but I keep my expression blank to keep him from trying to convince me to go home again. "I promise. I won't move from this spot until you get here."

Everyone gawks at me as he leaves the room, but I'm used to their stares now. The professor joins them though, and I shrink under his attention. He strolls over to my desk. "Raven, are you sure you're well enough to be here?" he asks, bringing even more focus on me.

"Yes," I reply, my voice still a bit rough. "It looks worse than it is."

I can see he's got more to ask, since he lingers in front of me. "If you need any help, there are services on campus that can assist you," he says quietly.

Up a row I hear someone snort. "Not surprised her husband is hitting her now. I heard he killed Jesse."

"That's enough!" the professor bellows. Maybe my battered face is finally making him step up and try to control the bullying running rampant in his class. Of course, he seems to be under a similar misconception about how I came to look like this.

He strolls up to the front of the class and glares at the gossiping students. "I've had enough with the constant chatter in this class. You are adults, start acting like it, or you’re free to leave!" He points at the door and waits to see if anyone will take him up on it.

Jenna happens to stroll into class, late as usual, while the professor is still dramatically pointing at the door. He drops his hand and grumbles, "Jenna, I need to speak with you after class."

I think I see a look of fear cross her face, but it's gone in an instant. Maybe if she didn't spend her evenings at clubs she'd make it to class on time.

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