Page 82 of Unhinged
On the drive, Judge babbles about the obstacle course and how he’s gonna conquer the foam pit “like a ninja.” I nod and smile, even while my mind’s half-focused on a to-do list I’m mentally building.
Dillon still wants that car in order to get my GTO back. Franko might have a connection—he used to always brag about his cousin who imports used cars. I tap a note into my phone so I don’t forget.
The trampoline park is louder than I expected. Screams of laughter, thumps of bodies hitting mats, music pulsing over the speakers. I fill out the waiver and tighten my ponytail before Judge tugs me toward the open play area.
“I’m gonna do the wall!” He grins.
“Go for it, baby.”
He stops halfway to the pit and turns. “Come with me?”
I smile, but it’s tight. “I can’t, honey. I’ve still got that cut, remember? If it reopens, we’ll get kicked out and your fun’s over.”
“Oh.” His face drops for a second, but then Acid steps in.
“I’ll go with you, little man. Think you can beat me?”
Judge’s whole face lights up. “Duh.”
I watch them disappear into the chaos and press a hand to my chest. Acid doesn’t move like an alpha with an agenda. He just…plays. Laughs. Grunts when he lands in the foam pit. Judge squeals when Acid pretends to get stuck and begs for help, like he’s sinking in lava.
I swoon a little, damn it. Right there next to the hand sanitizer station.
While they’re preoccupied, I grab a tray and order three hot dogs, fries, and the biggest blue raspberry slushies the place offers. I snag extra napkins—because Judge. And a tiny ketchup container. Because me.
“Food!” I call out from the table when I see them stumbling out of the pit, Judge looking winded and proud, Acid with foam clinging to his jeans.
They jog over and dig in.
“Mmmph,” Judge says around a bite of hot dog. “When do I get to go back to school?”
My hand stills. “I don’t know yet, baby.”
“I don’t wanna get behind. I like science class.”
Acid leans back in his chair. “We could have a prospect sit outside if you want him to go back.”
I hesitate. “I don’t trust that school. Not since…everything. He was supposed to transfer to the private one across town, but I was saving up for it.”
“I got some guys who could ask around,” he offers.
I nod. “I’ll call the principal this week. Maybe see what our options are.”
Judge finishes his last bite and takes off again. I let my gaze wander back to Acid, his eyes warm and a little amused.
“Thanks for coming,” I say.
“You don’t gotta thank me for hanging with my favorite omega and her kid.”
My stomach does a weird swoop.
“You’re such a flirt.” I laugh. “You know, when I saw you that night at Kenny’s, I called you Mr. Inked and Sexy.”
“You did, did you?” he says with a raised brow. “Don’t worry, you haven’t even seen all my ink yet.”
I choke on my slushie.
Heat blooms under my skin. I know he can smell it. Stupid scent blockers. I took them for years—long enough to make my body forget how to manage things naturally. I’m rusty now, out of practice.
