Page 32 of Shattered Skull

“I’m sorry, Will, but I’m hanging with Zada tonight.”

It was better than an uncomfortable night in with my mother’s boy toy. I was going to The Strip once again. Thanks to Will and his creepy newness in my house.

I went back to Zada’s house with her so she could get dressed, and she loaned me a shirt that didn’t look like it belonged to my grandmother, her words, not mine. By the time we pulled up to The Strip, the place was packed.

We met Reggie back at the track, and then we stood and watched the races. There were new faces and introductions, but the names were lost in the sounds of the bikes flying past us.

I breathed in the night air, filled with gasoline and burnt rubber, and felt an overwhelming sense of comfort. Going to school sent me into an anxiety attack. Being home alone kept me on edge. There were days when I felt panic just being in my own skin.

There I was, surrounded by drunken strangers high on God knew what. There was danger surrounding me, from the high-speed motorcycles to the gang members with weapons tucked away, and yet, I had never felt more at ease.

That was until I saw the guys who had rushed into my house and destroyed my father’s urn. My shoulders grew tense, and my stomach ached with the need to tell them exactly what I was thinking, but I didn’t. Instead, I stayed in my lane, heeding Zada’s advice to stay away from them, and I watched the races as I tried to block out that moment and the hurt I felt toward all of them, including my brother.

I failed at ignoring them, but it seemed every time I looked over, my eyes met with the green, glowing ones of the skull. His eyes felt intrusive, as if he could hear my secrets across The Strip. He had seen me cry and explode in rage. I didn’t want him seeing any more of my emotions.

Each time I caught him staring at me, I would roll my eyes and look away, making sure he knew I was not a fan of his. He would shake his head and grin, only angering me even more.

Two hours passed. The races stopped and turned into stunts and laughter. It seemed the skull had finally given up on making me mad and had disappeared. At least that was what I thought until I turned around and found him standing in front of me. He stepped closer, unaware of personal space, and I looked up at him, my head bent back in an uncomfortable position.

Lifting a brow, I asked what he wanted without using words. He didn’t deserve my words. None of them did.

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” he said, taking a hit from a joint and blowing it into the air above him.

The smell moved down over me, sifting through my hair, and I turned my head away, afraid I would get a contact high.

“How could I not after the amazing reception I got last time.”

“Sarcasm.” He chuckled without humor. “That’s cute.”

Anger started to burn in my stomach. I didn’t enjoy how he treated me like a little girl. I hated it even more that he thought he had the right to speak to me after the crap he and his boys pulled in my bedroom.

“Why are you here messing with me?” I asked, skipping straight to the point.

Smoke poured from his lips and nose, and I waved away the smell and sighed in annoyance.

He grinned, his green eyes were glassy and bloodshot.

“Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you last time you didn’t belong?”

“Do you own this place?”

His smirk grew darker. “Sort of.”

“You don’t, which means you don’t have the right to tell me to leave.”

This time his grin disappeared.

“Okay, little pyro. Keep talking shit.”

“Little Pyro? What’s that even mean?”

“It means you’re playing with fire, and little girls who play with fire get burned.”

“You’re ridiculous. First, I’m not a little girl. And second, I’m not playing with anything, nor do I want to. You’re the one who keeps messing with me. I’m doing my best to stay away from you and your annoying group of boys.”

He moved closer, staring me down as if he were ready to brawl with me.

“I keep messing with you because you don’t belong here. The only person who wants you here is Zada. Maybe you should take the hint and stay the fuck away. Also, all girls want to play with my fire, but only a select few can handle my burn. You’re not one of them.”

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