Shaking my head, I lock those thoughts down. Nothing good can come of thinking about her or how she abandoned me.
“I’ll be late tonight, I’ve got training,” I say, thinking of the kickboxing class both Dad and Piper believe I’ve signed up to. “Have a good day.”
“Please don’t get a black eye before the wedding,” Piper calls, but I’m long gone, shoving my feet into my boots and grabbing my bike keys.
Without looking back, I make my way down the back garden to the shed at the bottom where Dad and I keep our bikes.
I can’t help but smile when I see my baby.
That’s exactly how she looks parked next to his beast of a bike.A baby.
After opening up the double doors, I wheel my girl out, lock the shed back up and throw my leg over.
Riding her in my school skirt in this weather isn’t exactly ideal, but the sun is shining and quite frankly, I don’t care.
Pulling my helmet on, I secure the strap under my chin and kick the starter.
She’s nowhere near as powerful as Dad’s, but a thrill still shoots through me as the engine rumbles to life between my legs.
I’ve known I wanted a bike from as early as I can remember. While everyone around me was dreaming of the day they turn seventeen to get their car licences, I just wanted this. I did my first test on my sixteenth birthday, but Dad refused to buy me a bike, claiming that my school grades weren’t good enough to deserve it.
I argued that if I went to a decent school, my results wouldn’t be so dire. Well, just look where that got me. In this shitty uniform, attending one of London’s most prestigious private schools and surrounded by the fucking mafia.
I can’t help but laugh at the irony. Dad spent his life trying to protect me from the Reapers and landed me straight into something worse.
He knows, of course.
He’s not an idiot.
Probably how he managed to sweet-talk me into that place when I’m far from Knight’s Ridge material.
I failed almost all my exams thanks to the shocking education provided to me by the drowning staff at Lovell Academy on my old estate.
I can only assume that he was expecting me to make zero friends at this place and stay well away from the conceited wankers who think they run the fucking school.
Unfortunately for me, the two friends I have managed to make are connected to them.
Stella, the only girl I’ve ever met who gets me without even having to talk has fucking shacked up with one of them, and Calli, my most unlikely of friends, is also a fucking mafia princess, her older brother being one of the aforementioned pricks.
They both think it’s highly amusing that I can also claim my princess title, although mine belongs to the Royal Reapers MC.
It suits me more. The bikes, the leather, the black. But hell, I’m so far from a princess it’s not even funny.
Calli is the princess. She’s the girly one who does what the men in her life say, or at least she did before she became friends with me and Stella. Now, every time I see her, she’s breaking more and more rules.Rebelling against the shackles she’s been bound to her whole life.
It’s hella amusing to watch. Especially when it’s around Nico, her older brother, as we wait for that vein in his temple to burst.
I’m just waiting for the day she announces she’s screwed one of his mates just to piss him off and get rid of that pesky V-card. That’s a sure-fire way to make him blow.
I’m still a distance from school when I spot a familiar car in my mirror.
“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” I mutter to myself, glaring at his reflection as if he can see my response to his presence.
I purposely slow down, smiling to myself as I hog the lane, refusing to move over to let him past.
Smug satisfaction floods my veins, knowing that it’s going to piss him the fuck off.
He rides my arse the whole way to Knight’s Ridge. Even when he could have overtaken me, he never bothered—much to the delight of the drivers behind him who were beeping their horns in irritation.