Page 78 of Pretty Broken Wings

I consider jumping in front of the car, then shake my head. I value my life. Plus, I don’t want to make her feel more trapped than she already feels.

After waiting a few minutes that feel like an eternity, I circle the car, using my hand to brush along the outside until I meet the crease of the driver’s door. I knock on the window.

Nothing.

I knock again. “It’s cold out here.”

There’s a muffled response, and it sounds a lot like ‘go fuck yourself.’

A flood of heat washes over my body. Why is she mad atme? It’s Axel she should be pissed at. I’m pissed at him. I still might wring his neck for that fucking stunt he decided to pull.

But I’m not my brother. And I fucking hate that she treats me like I am.

I let the cool wind wash over my warm skin, listening to the sounds of the parking lot. The slamming doors, the locks beeping, the carts rattling. I could go inside alone. My glasses are shit, but I could try and fumble around for what I need.

But that wouldn’t help the terrified woman in the car.

Raven hasn’t driven away yet, which means she wants more of my money. So that’s something.

I pull in a deep breath and let it out, the tip of my nose getting cold. I know how I can get Raven out of the car.

“Buddy needs more food.”

There’s silence, then a huff. Suddenly, I hear the handle releasing, and I step back just in time. Raven steps out, slamming the door and shoving past me. She doesn’t wait, and I have to scramble to keep up with her moving form. Once we start walking, there’s a lot of other movement, and I work hard to keep her as my only focus.

It’s easy to keep up—Raven’s legs are a lot shorter than mine—but she’s hugging the backs of the cars. I’m not sure if that’s out of habit or if she’s trying to get me to run into them. After she leads me through a freezing puddle and I get my right foot wet, I’m going to guess it’s on purpose.

That anger that isn’t always far off boils. The wetness creeps down my ankle and onto the arch of my foot. Raven’s long hair swishes as she walks, and I think about grabbing it and wrapping it around my fist, pulling her into me. Putting her lips to my neck and demanding she bite it.

No. Fuck. What is wrong with me?

When we make it to the doors, there are a lot of other moving bodies, and Raven ducks around them. I grab hold of the back of Raven’s blazer so I don’t lose her, and the woman jerks out of my grip. She knows I can’t see, and she tries to take advantage of that.

I dart my hand out, gripping Raven’s elbow and yanking her back into me. Only, she’s so light I accidentally pull her back into my chest, where I hold her softly. I’m about to rip into her. Tell her just what I think of her petulant behavior. But having Raven this close is a shockwave to my system. I feel every bit of her pressed against me, and it makes me feel alive.

She trembles slightly, and immediately, I realize she’s afraid. I push her away so she isn’t pressed up against my chest and suck in a heaving breath.

The dark outline that is Raven stands there for a second.

Then, her gravelly voice says, “Fuck you, Gage. Don’t touch me.”

I open my mouth to respond, then shut it again. I miss the electric current that ran through me when we touched.

“I fucking hate you.” She’s still spewing anger, and for a second, all I can picture is her as her name’s sake—a raven, flaring her broken wings and scratching at me. Raven gets closer, and suddenly all I can smell is her—a mixture of Fiji and sweat. “You touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”

She’s standing right in front of me, finger in my face. Suddenly, my dick is hard. All I can picture is her yelling at me, degrading me, while I’m on my knees in front of her.

I shove back those thoughts. Her sweat smell is sour with fear, and I hate that.

Slowly, I raise my hands. “I am not my brother,” I say the words softly. I want to say that I’m also not Max or anyone else. But I don’t.

For a second, it’s just me and her. Then, the sounds of the grocery store flood back in. The music, the carts, the beeps of the registers.

Raven’s form moves. Her steps are choppy, and I assume she’s grabbing a cart. That, or leaving me stranded and never coming back.

I hate how much I dislike that idea.

Suddenly, a harsh voice breaks out. “Watch it.”