Students old enough to know Roman’s reputation scurry past him, and they don’t dare bat an eye in his direction. I feel the instant he decides that blood will be spilled tonight.
“What’s wrong?” His hands are on me within a matter of seconds, tugging my sleeves up and turning my face to check me over. The second he spots the mark on my chin, he erupts. “Who the fuck did this?”
“No one—it’s nothing.” I try to tear away from his grasp, but he tightens his hold. “I just want to go home.”
“Like fuck it’s nothing.”
Rage vibrates from him in waves, and I stare down at my feet because if his silver eyes bore into mine, I’ll crumble. He cups my cheek and angles my face up.
“Look at me, Bella. Tell me what happened.”
“Nothing happened.” I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “Can we just go?”
“Do you think someone can hurt you and get away with it? You should know the answer by now.”
I shake my head and blink back tears like the child I am. I don’t want to cry in front of him, because it’ll become an even bigger deal, and I want to seem like I have my shit together.
“It doesn’t matter anymore, Mickey. I just want to forget about it and move on with my day.” My face hurts, but my soul is aching. The only thing I want to do is crawl under the blankets and cry into my pillow.
“Give me names.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to spill the words he’s looking for. “I can’t keep running to you to save me.”
“You won’t need to run; I’ll already be there.”
“No, you won’t be. One day, you will move on, and I’ll need to learn to fend for myself. You won’t always be there to help me.”
“Like fuck, I won’t.” He looks at me, the promise of death in his eyes. “Names, Isabella.”
“No.”
“Give me names, and we can go.”
“Mickey, no, I—"
“And what’s the plan? How are you planning on stopping him if he bothers you again? You gonna hit him?”
I’m about to say yes, but we both know it’ll be a lie. I’d do it for Jeremy, maybe even Janelle, but I’ll be an unfortunate casualty.
“I’ll talk to them.”
“Them?”
One person, and I may get away with withholding a name. He’d just watch from a distance and wait until I crack. Two? He’d burn the place down to find out.
“Tell me, has that ever worked on me? Has anyone ever talked me out of knocking their lights out?”
No. Maybe I could, but it’d only be damage control. Instead of five broken bones, it might only be two.
“Is this the first timethey’vebothered you?”
I stare at the spot between his collarbones where the skin dips.
“You can fucking set out tea and write them damn letters. There isn’t a thing that will make them stop coming for you. They’ve tasted blood and made you cry. They thought they won, and they’ll keep coming back because picking on someone smaller is the only time they feel like men. They need to know they’ve lost—and they did as soon as they touched you.”
I know he’s right. Ihatethat he’s right. I’m weak. If this were the wild, I would have died a long time ago if it weren’t for Mickey. Natural selection would have taken me out. He doesn’t just save me or stop the harm from coming. He helps me pick up the parts and put them back together again.
“Mikhail and Maxim Androv. They’re twins.”
