Page 126 of Boy of Ruin
Turmoil. Chaos. Anarchy is too light of a word.
Institutions would burn to the ground, and while people think they want it, they think they need a revolution, need to upturn everything that knits the world together, they’d really be fucking lost, starving, and begging for our return if that ever happened.
Mav glances at me, and I know he doesn’t know what to say. But he can deal with her big fucking mouth. I’m done with her.
He sighs, looking back at the empty highway as we pass a green exit sign, a chain on the blue sign before it indicating a fast food spot that Sid loves because she’s obsessed with their veggie burgers.
I close my eyes again, pushing away the guilt. Trying to shove away thoughts about when the last time she ate was. How she’s been taking care of herself. Has she seen a doctor? Had an ultrasound? She barely looks pregnant, but her tummy was round under my hand in that dark bathroom.
She didn’t get an abortion, like she wanted.
“Angel, I know you don’t understand what’s—”
“No, Mav, I think you don’t fucking understand.” Her words are a low growl from behind me, and just like that, I’m smiling all over again.
So. Fucking. Feisty.
“What do you plan to do with him? With us?” She whispers the last question, and I wonder if she’s thinking of what I said to her.
If I really meant it.
I fucking did.
I’m not living my life like this. I refuse. I tried to make a wild animal a pet, but it’s impossible. And when an undomesticated girl starts wreaking havoc? You put her the fuck down.
I don’t think I have the heart to do it myself. I can admit that.
But the 6 won’t have that problem. Maddox himself is probably itching for her blood, because of all the trouble she’s caused him, displacing his position within the 6.
And because she shot him.
I’m smiling again and I hate it, but I can’t stop.
“I’m going to take care of you,” Mav says, a scowl forming on my face as he does, the smile long gone.
“And him?” Sid asks, her words vicious, as if she doesn’t want anyone to take care of her, let alone one of us. But her question sends rage lighting through my veins all over again.
I wipe the back of my hand over my running nose, and twist around to glare at her behind me.
“If you fucking mention him again, Sid, I’m going to—”
She leans close to me, the seatbelt straining against her chest as her beautiful eyes lock onto mine. “You’re gonna what?” she snarls.
I grit my teeth, one hand fisted on my lap, the other on the center console.
Maverick says nothing, but I can practically feel the tension radiating off of him in hot, angry waves.
“Behave yourself, baby girl. Don’t fucking push me.”
In the interior lights of the truck, I see the corners of her pretty little mouth pull up into a smile.
Bitch.
Her hands are by her sides, and I catch sight of that pale white scar above her brow.
I did that.
My mouth goes dry, my heart sinking. I hurt her, and she was scared of me. I thought I liked her fear. But in that way? No. No wonder she didn’t stay with me.
