Page 12 of Sinful Desires

“Put your feet down,” she hissed. “Have an ounce of respect for other people’s things.”

“Just an ounce?” I smirked, dropping my feet to the floorboard. There was no amusement on her face as she glowered at me, and I had to bite back the urge to laugh. I couldn’t remember ever seeing her this angry before.

She didn’t say another word as she whipped out of the driveway and started down the road. The car freshener swayed back and forth from the rearview mirror as we moved down the bumpy street. Tilting my head, I looked out the window, my gaze sweeping across the assortment of two-story homes I’d never be able to afford in this lifetime—maybe not even in the next.

When we made it out onto the main road, my eyes burned with the urge to close, threatening to take the sleep that my body craved.

Sleeping was the last thing I wanted to do right now though. There were too many unanswered questions swimming around in my brain. I spared another glance at Rebecca, who had placed a pair of big sunglasses on her face at some point or another.

Rebecca was beautiful. She didn’t even look old enough to have been around for the last nine to ten years, but she was. She was only twenty-eight, but looked like she was twenty-one—maybe.

“Where am I going this time?” I found myself asking.

She released a frustrated sigh before tightening her hands around the steering wheel. “I don’t think you understand the severity of your situation,” she bit out. Shaking her head, she blew out another breath. “Do you remember what we talked about last time?”

Tucking my bottom lip between my teeth, I shook my head. Usually when she lectured me, I tuned her out. But by the way she was looking at me right now, with so much desperation; had me thinking I probably should have been listening.

“I told you that we were running out of options. You’re eighteen now, which means that we aren’t even obligated to help you anymore.”

“Then why are you?”

Another sigh left her. “Because I actually care about you, however difficult that may be for you to believe. But I can’t keep helping you if you don’t want to be helped.”

My heart clenched as her words sunk in. I wasn’t naïve enough to take her words at face value, but it was still nice to hear. Finally, I nodded. “Where do we go from here then?”

“There’s this place in Redwood for kids like you. You might even like it there. It’s a lot like college would be, but stricter.” She paused, a look of discomfort overtaking her features. “It’s privately funded, and corrupt, but as long as you keep your head down and do what you’re supposed to do, you should get through it just fine.”

Hope swelled within me at the prospect of having a chance at independence and stability. This was exactly what I’d been needing.

“What’s it called?”

“Redwood Academy. Also known as the—”

“Academy Of Rejects,” I finished for her, not missing a beat. This place had mostly just been a rumor up until now. There was nothing concrete about it, other than the fact that it housed messed up kids.

Licking my lips, I tugged at the lever on the side of my seat and leaned back. Maybe this place would be the answer to all my problems.

For the last two years, I was just struggling. I wanted to be left alone, and to trudge through life. At one point, I didn’t even care if that meant me being homeless, but then I thought of Avery.

Avery needed me, and if that meant me suffering a little while longer, then I’d do it. Anything for her.

My eyes still burned with the urge to close and now that I knew it would be a good few hours before we reached our destination, there wasn’t anything stopping me. My eyes fluttered shut, and within minutes, darkness consumed me.

When my eyes opened again, they slowly adjusted to my surroundings. Propping myself up, I took a look around, noting that we were currently in a drive-through.

“I hope you’re hungry,” she said. “I ordered you a chicken strip dinner.”

I nodded and lifted the lever to position my seat up. My eyes drifted over to the clock, the time: 7:48, flashing back at me.

“Where are we?” I asked, sleep still clinging to my voice.

“Dots burger joint.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” I retorted. I’d never been out of Kansas before, but I could tell we weren’t in it anymore.

“Colorado.”

A breath of relief whooshed out of me. Thank God for that. My ass was numb, and my shoulders ached. The sooner I could get out of this car, the better.

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