Chapter 10
Rei Kurosaki
School was back on. The suspension had been lifted because Dimitri Morozov had decided it. I didn’t ask how.
I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, hoping to slip out before Mother or Daniel could corner me with another lecture about image and flowers and how I was making the family look weak. Marco had texted late the night before, asking if I was okay after the fight.
I hadn’t answered. What was I supposed to say? That I had punched a guy for him and the devil had shown up at my house to inspect the damage?
Dimitri’s black car idled at the curb.
He leaned against the driver’s side, dark eyes locked on me the moment I appeared.
“Get in.”
I stopped on the steps. My backpack strap dug into my shoulder. “No.”
His eyebrow lifted. “That wasn’t a request, little fairy.”
“I said no.” My voice came out steadier than I felt. “I don’t need a ride.”
Dimitri pushed off the car and closed the distance in three strides.
He didn’t touch me, but the space between us vanished anyway.
“You can get in on your own, or I can put you in. Your choice. But you’re coming with me. We’re having breakfast.”
“I don’t want breakfast with you,” I said. “I have school. And I don’t trust you not to drag me somewhere no one will find me.”
He leaned in closer. His eyes raked over the bruises on my face. I wondered if he was deciding whether to add his own.
“I could have done that last night. I could have dragged you into the car the second you stepped outside and taken you somewhere no one would hear you scream. Get in. Or I make you. And if I make you, we both know how this ends.”
I shoved past the fear locking my shoulders and walked to the car. “Fine. Breakfast. But that’s it. And if you try anything…”
“You’ll what?” He opened the passenger door, smirking. “Call Kento? He’s busy stalking Ilya. Call the police? They won’t touch a Morozov. Scream? No one’s close enough to hear.”
He shut the door before I could answer and circled to the driver’s side.
The car slowed in front of an old coffee shop tucked between two buildings.
“Get out,” he said. “Or I carry you in. Your choice.”
Being carried by him? Hell no.
I stepped out.
The coffee shop’s upper level felt like a trap. One older man sat by the window, but the rest of the space was empty enough.
We reached the corner table. I slid into the booth, expecting him to take the seat across from me like a normal person.
Of course he didn’t.
He dropped down right beside me.
He leaned his elbow on the table, head propped on his palm.
I forced myself to mirror the posture, leaning on my own palm.
After we ordered, he asked, “Why did you punch him?”
“He was bullying my friend. I wasn’t going to stand there and watch.”
Dimitri’s eyes stayed on me. He didn’t look surprised. If anything, he seemed satisfied.
Which made sense. He loved violence.
I didn’t.
I hated it, but I really loved Marco and I hated when someone was hurting him.
He didn’t push for more details. Instead, his gaze dropped to my untouched croissant, then back up to my face.
“Why do you always eat so little?”
I stiffened.
Then I shrugged it off.
“I don’t have an eating disorder if that’s what you think,” I said, my fingers twisting the edge of the napkin. “I just prefer not eating at home. And then I forget at school. Especially when you’re terrorizing me.”
I waited for the taunt. But Dimitri just watched me. Then he reached over, broke off a piece of my croissant with his fingers, and held it out to me.
“Eat.”
I stared at him.
I wanted to say no.
But instead, I leaned forward.
I took a bite.
Dimitri’s eyes stayed on my mouth as I chewed.
“Good boy.”
I blushed.
***
I had dragged Marco across the street to the small park that bordered Bloodburn’s east gate, the same place we always escaped to sometimes.
Marco sat cross-legged on the grass in front of me, sketchbook balanced on his knees, pencil moving in nervous strokes.
He always doodled when he was scared.
His dark curls kept falling into his face and he kept blowing them away with a soft puff of air. He looked so small.
The complete opposite of the monsters who had cornered him.
The park was mostly empty this time of day. A few students cut across the far path but none came close.
Word about what happened in the hallway had already spread.
I could feel it in the way people glanced at us and then looked away fast.
Marco’s pencil paused. He glanced up at me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His voice was so soft it almost got lost in the wind. “You shouldn’t get into fights for me.”
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “Don’t apologize for that. They don’t get to shit on you while I’m here. I won’t tolerate it, Marco. Not from Brad, not from any of those entitled assholes who think they own this place.”
He bit his lip and looked back down at his sketch.
“But you got in trouble,” he mumbled. “I don’t want you getting hurt because of me. You already have enough going on at home with Daniel and everything.”
I reached over and ruffled his curls, the same way I always did when he started spiraling into that anxious place.
Marco was my sunshine in this concrete hell. I wouldn’t let anyone upset him.
“Stop worrying about me,” I said. “I can handle this. I’m okay, trust me.”
Marco’s shoulders slowly relaxed. He popped the end of his pencil between his lips for a second, chewing on it. The black ribbon in his hair had slipped again. I reached over without thinking and straightened it for him.
Then I reached into my bag and pulled out the small paper bag I had grabbed from the convenience store that morning on my way to school. I held it open between us.
Marco’s eyes lit up immediately. He loved these stupid strawberry candies.
I had started buying them for him weeks ago when I noticed how his hands shook after bad days.
He never asked, but I just kept showing up with them.
“For you,” I said, shaking the bag a little. “Take as many as you want.”
“You didn’t have to,” he mumbled, unwrapping one and popping it into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out a little as he sucked on it. “But thank you. They’re my favorite.”
“I know.” I smiled.
“Thanks, Rei,” he mumbled around the sweet. “For everything.”
I ruffled his curls. “Always, sunshine. Always.”