Page 3 of Don't Make Me Beg
She looks over her shoulder and drops the can of spray paint at her feet, as the bright blue lights of the police cruiser start to flash.
She takes off toward me in a sprint, reaching me just as the second cop car rounds the corner. “Oh, shit. What do we do?” Her round eyes go wide as she looks up at me, and my heart shatters into a million pieces at the sight of the fear on her face.
“Come on, we need to hide.” I take her hand and lead her to the back of the building, just as the cop’s bright lights illuminate the space. The siren’s wailing now, as if we didn’t already know we were screwed.
I hear the sirens grow louder as the second cop pulls up. Gravel crunches beneath the tires as another bright spotlight flashes around the building.
We lay low, our breaths coming out in heavy pants as I try like hell to formulate a plan. We can’t run, we’ve got cops on both sides of us, and there’s no way we’ll be able to get past them at this close of a distance. I look above me and see the broken metal ladder of the fire escape. It’s the only way.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I pull Scout to her feet. “You need to get up there. The fire escape goes all the way up to the roof. You can jump to the vacant building next door and climb down the other side. Then, you need to hide. I’ll come for you, okay?”
She nods, her eyes wide as saucers, as her whole body shakes in my hands.
“You can do this, Scout,” I reassure her before pulling her into a tight hug, wrapping my arms around her small frame. She hugs me back with all her strength, and when I pull away, I see her eyes are rimmed in tears. The dam in me breaks.
I press my lips to hers as the years of pent-up tension comes crashing to the surface, the gigantic waves washing my feet out from under me. I lose myself in the feel of her soft lips as she grips my shirt and pulls me closer. Nothing has ever felt more right than this. My hand moves behind her head as I cradle her against me, my neck cranes down almost painfully because of our height difference.
Her lips are incredibly soft, and she tastes like a mix of strawberry lip gloss and peppermint gum. My body is a live flame burning hot as desire rips through me. I grip my fists in the fabric of her t-shirt as I pull her into me, needing to feel her more than I need air in my lungs.
And she’s kissing me back with just as much vigor, her fingernails clawing at my back just as desperately. Like she’s wanted this just as much as I have, and I can’t help but wonder how long we’ve deprived ourselves because we were both too afraid to act.
We lose ourselves in the kiss, drowning in all the promises we’ve already made and everything that’s to come. It’s a promise, a vow, a revelation all at the same time.
And when I finally find the will to pry my lips away from hers and tear our bodies apart, she lets out the sexiest whimper of protest. She blinks several times as awareness slowly comes back to her, and she slowly places two fingers against her lips.
I don’t have time to react before I hear a voice shouting in the distance. “Who’s back there? You’re already caught, kid, so you can do this the easy way or the hard way…it’s up to you,” the cop’s deep voice echoes through the megaphone, and I feel my heart drop to my stomach.
“Come on,” I say, just before I grab the can of spray paint from her pocket, then I’m hoisting her up before she can argue. I lift her over my head with ease, adjusting her so she can climb up my shoulders. When I feel her weight lift, I glance up and watch her quietly pull herself up the rest of the way. She pauses for only a moment, like she’s trying to tell me something, then she takes off, climbing up to the roof.
I let out a sigh of relief, then uncap the can of spray paint and rub a little on my fingers. With my hands held above my head, I slowly walk to the front of the building as the cops rush toward me. I follow their orders to get down as my face is pressed into the asphalt and my hands are cuffed behind my back.
I know I said I’d try to get away, but we’re already busted. Better to turn myself in than have them come searching and find both of us, besides, all the evidence is already here.
It’s only when they pull me up to lead me to the back of the cop car that I remember the joint in my pocket…and I know I may have just royally fucked up.
CHAPTER ONE
Scout
Your image is everything. It doesn’t matter what is true, only what is perceived to be. Stay out of trouble—once your reputation is marked, it’s nearly impossible to wash the stain out.My mother’s words haunt me as I choke on another full-body sob.
This shouldn’t be happening to me…but no matter how hard I pinch myself; I still can’t wake up from this nightmare.
I never thought that I, Scout Sinclair, valedictorian of Ashford Falls High School, Student Council President, Girl Scouts of America Gold Award recipient, and all-around good girl in every sense of the word, would be expelled from law school…for plagiarism of all things. But as of two o’clock this afternoon, those are the facts…whether I like them or not.
Arguing was pointless…not when the stack of evidence was all there.
And like my mother says,it doesn’t matter what is true, only what is perceived to be.
Call me naive, but I always thought there was a higher probability of my fiancée cheatingonme…rather thanfromme.
And now I only have myself to blame. I guess I’ll just add it to the heaping pile of parental disappointment I’m already carrying around on my shoulders. What’s one more going to hurt?
The lump in my stomach churns as if answering my question for me. Yeah…I’m not exactly expecting a welcome home party, but once I explain myself, maybe we can figure out a plan… Besides, it’s not like I have anywhere else to go. My immediate expulsion meant losing my scholarships, my on-campus housing, my internship…not to mention the engagement I broke off after I realized what I’d been accused of. In only a matter of a few hours, I managed to lose everything I’ve worked my whole life for.
All I have to my name is the leased car I’m driving, which my parents routinely threaten to take away should my grades ever dip below a 4.0, and my ever-practical capsule wardrobe that easily fits in a single carry-on suitcase. At least it made packing easy.
A wave of panic rushes over me as I pull into the gated subdivision and see that there’s a guard working the gate. I do a quick double-take of my GPS, making sure I typed in the right address.
