12. Cleo
Istep inside the Rebels’ clubhouse at nearly two a.m. I had no idea there was a party happening, but maybe it’ll keep my appearance off Nitro’s radar. My hair is a mess, lips still swollen, and my panties are at Zeke’s like some sort of trophy.
I shouldn’t have shared my food with him. Shouldn’t have gone to his place. Shouldn’t have fucked him again. But I did. And like the first time, it was incredible.
When we were teenagers, Nitro told me I was an adrenaline junky. That I was always looking for something or someone to take me on this imaginary ride away from my life. It was impossible. I knew that. Didn’t keep me from searching.
“Hey, where’ve you been?” Nitro catches me before I can make it to the guest room I’ve been staying in.
“You do realize I’m an adult.”
“We have a lot of enemies, Cleo. Nothing wrong with me looking out for you.”
He has always looked out for me. I give him that. But, lately, he’s been different. Controlling and overbearing.
“There’s a difference between looking out for me and being overprotective. I’ve been out on my own for a long time.”
He nods. “Then you moved in with some deadbeat and started hanging out with a Devil.”
At one time, I felt Nitro was the only person on this earth that understood me. That never judged me. Looking at him now, I don’t feel that way anymore.
“My old landlord is letting me renew my lease. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
I turn to walk into the room and he grabs my arm.
“You can stay as long as you need to. I just worry about you.”
And there it is. Something I never thought I’d see from him. Pity.
I’m the girl who lost her mom. I’m the girl who no one wants, not even my own father. I’m the girl who is always getting into trouble.
“Good night, Nitro.”
And I’m the girl who always chooses the wrong guy.