Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Kyle

I saw Claire through a break in the crowd. Shaking her head, she stared at me with her big brown eyes awash in tears. Her hand clutched her stomach like she might be sick.

She knows.

Our gazes locked and she didn’t look away, and then it was me who wanted to hurl.

Neto took advantage of my distraction. He got a jab in, his fist connecting with my ribs. Hunching over, I grunted as my lungs expelled air, but I barely noted the pain. More significant shit was going on inside me.

Claire gasped. “Kyle, you’re bleeding.” Moving toward me, she winced as if she still cared.

Straightening, I swiped my thumb across my cheek, realizing I did have a little blood oozing from an earlier cut where Neto’s ring had ripped open my skin.

“Don’t do this.” Claire sobbed, pressing through the crowd to get closer. “It’s not worth it.”

“Twenty-two-karat gold says it’s worth it, ese.” Neto’s lips pulled back, revealing his blood-stained teeth.

His harsh words gave me an idea. It was terrible, but it had to be done now—publicly—so no one would target Claire for meaning something to me.

“Exactly right.” I nodded at Neto as if I agreed with him before giving Claire a hard look. “Don’t get the wrong idea, darlin’. I’m not doing this for you. Pussy’s just pussy. Yours is the same as any other.”

“No . . .” She hunched over as if I’d sucker-punched her, my words like a blow to her diaphragm that expelled everything good from inside her.

“Asshole.” Missy glared at me and threw her arms around her friend.

Hurting Claire hurt me. Unsurprisingly, I stumbled.

“Apparently, she knows you well.” A deadly glint in his eyes, Neto shoved me backward.

“Or you,” I spat back, refocusing on him, though what I really wanted to do was retract what I’d said to Claire.

It was done. It had to be done. We were over. No one would suspect I cared for her after that.

“Only one loser here.” His white T-shirt splattered with red, Neto reached in his back pocket and withdrew a switchblade.

Fuck.

My eyes narrowed as he flicked his knife open and took a swipe at me. The blade slashed through my favorite Led Zeppelin shirt, slicing a line of fire into my skin.

“You broke the terms,” I growled, trying to ignore the sting of that cut. “You’ll pay for that.”

“Losers don’t dictate terms.” Neto sneered. “I’ll do what I want, and after I finish you, I’ll have a go at the blonde.”

His words were like gas to the ever-burning flame inside me.

Anger exploding into rage, I swung at him, and my fist connected with his jaw. The skin over my knuckles blazed like hell from the blow, but I grinned grimly. With him off balance, I kicked. The steel toe of my boot caught flesh and metal, sending his blade flying.

Those gathered around us scuttled away as the razor-sharp blade spun through the air. It plunged back to earth like I had after only one night with Claire. I was on fire again like then, only this time it was dark flames.

Scanning me quickly, Neto read the signs. My nostrils flaring, I advanced. His brown eyes widened and he retreated, sensing the fucking change of the tide.

I threw a couple of solid punches to his midsection, and he grunted in pain. My already abused knuckles protested. Hitting him was like pummeling a slab of solid meat.

Neto rocked on his feet, and I reared back to finish it.

His head snapped back as my fist connected with his nose. Not nearly satisfied with the crunch of bone and cartilage, I punched him again, a powerful follow-up blow that slammed into the muscles over his diagram.

Expelling a stream of air, he doubled over, but I didn’t slack off. I was done letting him seize any advantage.

Never let down your guard. Never show weakness. Never back down from a challenge.

I knew the rules in Southside, and so did he. He’d crossed the line with the blade and then that comment about Claire. Though mine was just as bad, I didn’t mean it.

Neto straightened, swinging wildly, but I hit him again without restraint or pause. I hit him as if he were the past that I couldn’t change. As if he were the future, I couldn’t escape. As if he were me, and I were dishing out the punishment I deserved for going with Claire that night when I should have walked away.

Lost in a red haze, delivering one punch after another, I didn’t note it as important when my opponent dropped to the ground and stopped fighting back. Only that suddenly, I was yanked away and my arms were pinned to my sides.

Stepping forward through the crowd, Jorge shook his head at me first, then he crouched beside Neto. The guy was breathing shallowly, but he was out cold.

Jorge spat at the ground next to him. “Culero.” Asshole. When he stood, his wallet chain swayed against his denim-clad thigh.

He returned his focus to me, his gaze narrowing beneath the rolled navy bandana around his head. The dark surface of his golden-brown eyes glowed menacingly, and blood that my fury had heated turned cold in the span of a heartbeat.

I’d just pulverized his second. I was a dead man.

“I’m sorry, man,” I said, breathing hard. “I fucked up.”

Jorge shook his head. “Neto pulled a blade on you. He’s the one who fucked up. He dishonored our agreement. We need to form a new one.”

He beckoned, and his third, who I suspected was now his second, released me and came forward.

“Get rid of everyone.” Jorge circled a finger in the air, obviously referring to the crowd. “Then take care of this garbage.” He pointed to Neto.

“Sí, el Jefe.” Jorge’s new second crossed his arms over his chest and glowered.

Students scattered. I noticed belatedly that Claire was no longer among them.

“Talk with me a moment.” Jorge gestured, and I followed him to the cracked concrete sidewalk that divided the north side of the school from the south.

“Fewer witnesses the better, sí?” He gave me a look.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, though the scar on my back suddenly tingled.

“You’re a formidable opponent.” Jorge’s gaze dipped to my bloody fisted hands, then rose. “Respect. No need to be tense. I’m not going to slip a knife between your ribs.” His lips curved with grim humor. “At least, not today. Entiendes?”

Yeah, I understood. I gave that a chin lift.

“Sí, this is just me and you, and I’m a man of my word.” He plunged his hand into the front pocket of his jeans.

I stiffened, then relaxed when I saw a flash of gold, not silver.

“Thanks, man.” I opened my clenched fingers, and he dropped the bracelet into my palm. I tried not to think about how touching it, I tarnished the shiny surface, much like I had Claire.

Jorge clucked his tongue. “Saw how the güera looked at you. Then how she looked after what you said to her. That was muy malo, man.”

I shrugged.

He shook his head. “Nice-looking girl. You and I know the rules for this game, but chicas like her don’t.”

My gaze locked with his. I didn’t move a muscle, nor did I speak a word to confirm or deny anything.

He tilted his head. “Are you not going to claim her?”

“Nothing to claim.” It wasn’t a lie. I couldn’t and wouldn’t put Claire at any more risk than she already was, being who she was in my world.

Jorge studied me for a moment. “Might be the right move. Might be the wrong one. For guys like you and me, nice girls don’t come along very often, ese. So, who can know for sure? But if you don’t plan to claim her, then you’d better stay away, or someone will hurt her to hurt you.”

I planned to keep my distance, though doing that would kill me.

“Your words say one thing, but your actions say another.” Jorge continued to study me closely. “I don’t believe this is the first time you’ve absorbed pain for her.”

I pressed my lips together. He might be referring to what Strader’s guys had done. But if so, I wondered how he knew.

“Orale. You’re not so bad, hombre. I won’t breathe a word about what I know to anyone if you don’t cross me.” He jerked his chin up. “Watch your back, Kyle.”

His gaze drifted, and I followed it, noting Randy standing beside Tommy. When I turned to look at Jorge again, he was already walking away.

I watched him and his entourage disappear around the southernmost corner of the building. Then I finally breathed, but not easy as I closed my fingers tightly around the bracelet that was so much more than it seemed.

Like Claire.