Page 35 of Danger

“Fuck you, Stetsons!” one of them shouts as they slam the doors.

The engine peels out, tires spitting gravel as they tear off into the dark, leaving nothing but dust, and knowin’ round two has to be coming. There’s always something coming next with them.

They’re gone in a minute, burning rubber down Main Street. I let my head tip back, my cheek pulsing with every heartbeat.

The crowd from inside the bar has filtered out, everybody full of the blatant curiosity of people who want to see violence but not feel responsible for it. Sawyer’s at the front of the pack, clutching her phone in a death grip, looking around for Trouble. Winnie’s behind her, eyes locked on me like I’m some animal she’s never seen up close.

I don’t move to wipe the blood from my face. I want them all to see it. Want them all to remember. Know me for who I really am.

Because once, I stood in a doorway—too small to fill it—while my old man dragged my mother past me by the wrist, her bare feet skidding on the floor. He was barely able to walk a straight line. I remember the sound her head made when it hit the wall. Dull. Final. Like a door closing inside my chest.

Growing up, I didn’t have a voice. My old man made sure of that—until I learned that the only way to be heard was to fight back.

Now it’s all I know. I’m the monster this town needs. The one everyone runs to when they need someone to do the dirty work they’re too afraid to do. Some people are famous for their talents. I’m infamous for my bruises.

I catch Winnie’s eye again. Can’t tell if she’s scared or rememberin’ who I really am. Doesn’t matter. This is better. Cleaner. We have an arrangement—that’s all it is. Maybe this’ll remind her of that.

I wipe the blood from my cheek with the back of my hand, then step in close and slide an arm around her shoulders. She goes a little stiff, surprised, but she doesn’t pull away.

“I’ll take you home,” I say.

She glances up at me, something uncertain flickering across her face. But she nods. “Okay.”

Across the lot, Rylee and her friends stand with their arms crossed, judgment written all over their faces. I thought Rylee left. Guess she'd only made it as far as the parking lot.

“You see?” Rylee calls to Winnie. “You two don’t mix.”

Winnie surprises me.

“I think we fit just fine,” she says, lifting her chin.

I grin, open the truck door for her, and wait until she climbs in before shutting it behind her.

When I turn back, Rylee’s still standing there. Only now she looks… lost. Like she can't figure out why I won't care, won't cave, won't be the version of me she remembers.

Maybe I am angry.

Maybe this is how I make my peace.

Maybe I’ll always be the villain. But at least everyone's watching the show, and it's all mine.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

winnie

The truck rideto my parents house is quiet, but not the easy kind.

Danger pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. For a second, neither of us moves. My heart’s still beating like I ran a marathon instead of surviving a bar fight and a fake relationship announcement.

He gets out of the truck first, comes around to my side, and opens my door like this is perfectly normal. Like we didn’t just have the wildest night of my life.

“Night, Winnie,” he says.

“Night,” I answer, stepping down to the gravel.

I take two steps toward my porch before I feel it—that pull. I turn.

He’s leaning back against his truck, arms crossed, watching me like he’s waiting to make sure I’m capable enough to get myself inside.