Wicked Princess Page 33

Rubbing my temples, I let out a silent scream.

I knew my former self was fucked up, but this is…setting her up like that…

It makes me sick.

Especially since I’ll never have the chance to apologize.

I ruined this poor girl’s life…and now she no longer has one.

Splashing some cold water on my face, I force myself to breathe.

Once I’m calm enough, I grab my crutches and hobble back down the staircase.

I might not be able to tell her I’m sorry, but it’s not too late to go home and do the right thing.

“Someone call the cops!” a girl screams as I walk into the living room.

Nerves bunch in my tummy as I watch two guys in what looks to be a very heated altercation.

“I want my money,” some guy barks.

“I told you,” the other guy says. “I don’t have it right now.”

The first guy pulls a gun out of his waistband and fires a bullet into the ceiling, causing my ears to ring so bad I automatically cover them with my hands. “Then I guess you give me no choice, motherfucker.”

Holy shit. Stone told me these parties got out of hand, but I didn’t think he meant this.

My eyes flick to the front door. It’s about eight feet away from where I’m standing which means I can easily walk out.

“No one move,” the guy with the gun sneers. “I’m about to show all of you what happens when you fuck with me.”

I’m not sure about everyone else, but I definitely don’t need a demonstration. I’m good.

My heart is beating so hard I’m afraid it’s going to pound right out of my chest.

Stone was right. I never should have come here.

“Get on your knees,” he instructs, pointing his gun at the other guy.

Oh, God. He’s going to shoot him right here in front of everyone.

The sound of the gun cocking echoes throughout the room as he holds it up to his temple.

I can’t watch. “Please do—”

“Police,” a deep voice booms on the other side of the front door. “Open up.”

“Oh shit,” someone yells. “Run.”

Utter pandemonium breaks out as everyone starts rushing toward the exits.

Except me…the girl with crutches.

Fortunately, most people run out back which means the front door is wide open when the cops come busting through.

Frantically, I fish my phone out of my purse as I hobble past them.

Stone picks up on the second ring.

“Hey—”

“I should have listened to you. There was a guy with a gun and he—”

“Wait, what?” Stone yells. “Where the fuck are you?”

“I went to the party at Jordan’s—”

“Are you serious?” he shouts. “I told you not to go.”

I want to argue that he said I shouldn’t go, but now is not the time for semantics.

“Can you come get me? Please.”

“On my way.”

I spot Stone’s red chevi on the opposite end of the street in record time.

I’m about to walk over, but he steps out of his car, his long strides eating up the ground between us in no time.

His anger is so tangible I can practically taste it. “Are you fucking stupid or something? What part of do not fucking go to the party don’t you understand?”

Woah. I know he’s upset, but this is…excessive.

“I’m not stupid. I—”

Disgust mars his features as he looks me up and down. “What the fuck are you wearing? That dress is so short I can practically see your pussy.” His eyes darken when they connect with mine. “You look like a goddamn slut.”

My stomach twists at his words and I expel a breath that hurts.

I thought I looked nice.

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll find my own ride home.”

I pull up the Uber app on my phone because I don’t want to be anywhere near him right now.

I start to walk away, but his fingers wrap around my wrist, halting me. “Wait.”

“For what? You to tell me I’m stupid again?”

“I was wrong.”

The genuine remorse in his eyes tells me he means it, but still.

What he said hurt. A lot.

I try to get away again, but my crutches and his iron-clad grip on my wrist make it impossible.

“Look at me, Bourne.”

I close my eyes. “I don’t want to.”

It hurts too much.

He closes what little distance there is between us, cupping my cheekbone. “I’m sorry.”

I glare at him. “You called me a slut.”

“I’m an asshole. A stupid, jealous asshole.” Leaning his forehead against mine, he whispers, “I’m trash…and you’re perfect. I feel like I’m constantly waiting for the day when you wake up and realize what a mistake being with me is.”

Turns out his little self-fulfilling prophecy just came true. “Well, congrats. That just happened.”

I try to walk away again but he tightens his grip. “I fucked up, Bianca. But it will never happen again. I promise.”

Every fiber in me is telling me to forgive him, but there’s a little, nagging voice in my head that can’t help but wonder if this is a warning of some sort.

“One more chance,” he urges, as if sensing my internal dilemma. “Give me one more fucking chance.”

I can feel my heart caving. “Stone—”

“Please.” He frames my face with his hands. “I don’t want to lose you.”

I don’t want to lose him either.

He’s the only good thing to come out of this horrible situation.

Besides, the way he was before isn’t like him. At all.

Everyone makes mistakes.

“Tell me I didn’t lose you.” His eyes are pleading, imploring me not to end what we have. “Tell me we aren’t over.”

“We aren’t over,” I whisper.

Because the heart wants what it wants.

Chapter 28

“He used to hit her,” Stone whispers.

We’re lying in his bed, a tangled mess of arms and limbs wrapped around one another.

My fingers which were stroking his stomach pause. “Who?”

Eyes closing, he inhales deeply. “My dad.” Despair mixed with rage colors his voice. “Sometimes he’d beat her so bad my mom would be covered in bruises for weeks…a few times he even broke her arm.”

My heart thunders against my chest, hard and painful.

Not only for Stone’s mom who had to endure something so brutal and awful, but for Stone who also had to experience it.

It makes even more sense why they’re so close.

“I’m so sorry.”

He looks down at me. “Tonight scared me because I sounded exactly like him.”

My stomach does a strange, sick lurch.

He tips my chin. “But I’m gonna make sure that never happens again.” His lips find my forehead. “Because I care about you. So fucking much.”

I believe him.

I also can’t help but wonder. “You said your dad’s in jail, right?”