“Reg is weird and unstable,” I said. “She knows it, and she’ll understand if he never comes back. It’s on him, not you. You’ve already shown how distressed it made you, and now you can move on from that worry. Besides, how nice is it if he’s some other woman’s problem now? Can you believe your good luck?”
“I love him still,” she said, her face crumpling again as she fought back her emotions. “I’m sorry, I’m all over the place with how this makes me feel.”
“I get it,” I said, and we fell into silence for a moment while I processed all the new information she’d just told me. My father’s name was Ivan Popov, the most she’d ever told me before was that she called him Lev as a nickname. That his family was rich, but she’d never mentioned just how rich. And that she’d met him while she was at a party with some coworkers. I hadn’t known those coworkers were models.
It all felt like the muddied waters were clearing up one moment at a time. I wanted a flood of information, to fill my entire mind with everything she’d ever known about my father and his family, but Mom wasn’t able to give me that.
I’d have to be satisfied with the slow drip of information when I could get it.Or go right to the source himself and hope I found my father again. Somehow he was connected to the Organization, and somehow they’d used me to hurt him.
I could only pray that he hated them as much as I did, and when our paths crossed once more, I would make him proud enough to stand next to him as we fought together.
I patted Mom on her hand and let her grieve the loss of her husband to some unknown woman in Reno, all while I secretly wishing that my biological father had something to do with making him disappear.
His blood ran in my veins, I prayed it was hot enough to keep the fire of revenge burning in my heart.
* * *
School was so fucking weird.
That’s the only way I knew how to describe it after everything I’d been through. I looked around at all the rich, entitled kids who were so certain of their place in the world, and I couldn’t help but think of the kids I’d left behind at the Organization’s prison.
What would happen to them? Was there any hope for them?
A quiver of guilt rocked through my stomach when I thought about them, and I added their rescue to my ever growing list of things to do when I fucked over the Organization and tore them apart.
I never wanted anyone else to go through that again. Not after I’d survived and made it out alive, it was the one thing I could do to alleviate the guilt that would ride inside my head forever. But for now, I was back at Covington for the time before winter break. Just a few short days to power through and catch up on all the schoolwork I’d missed. I could handle it, school had always been a breeze. In fact the work would be easier to handle than the fake bullshit I had to play at just to fit in.
“Hey, sexy,” Valen said as I strolled down the hallway with Kingston by my side. That was one of the perks of being back at school, seeing my guys again, all day every day.
I had missed Valen in the short time I was at home. I’d missed Archer and Ryker, too.
Kingston had given me a ride that morning and hadn’t left me since. He was being overly protective and even though it was his first day back after being shot, he worried more about my well-being than his own.
“Hey there, right back at ya,” I smiled and let Valen kiss me on the cheek. We were being a little more sedate about our unconventional relationship, at least until I figured out what was going on with Dirty Kingdom and the Kings.
Kingston couldn’t play football at the moment, so Archer had been pushed into Kingston’s position as quarterback and team captain. That meant way more time away from us, like this morning as he ran practice sprints on the field with his teammates. I didn’t like it, but understood.
“There she is,” I heard behind me, and turned to find Ryker there, all cocky and out of place among the preppy rich kids in the hall. He was so tall compared to most of them, and his shoulders were broad, his muscled body more like a giant warrior god from the ages of old than a student at an elite high school.
“Oh my god, what are you doing here?” I asked with a gasp at this, the best possible kind of shock. Kids were rubber necking to stare at him as they went past. His hair was electric blue now, and he’d styled it standing up like an early 2000s alternative rock god.
He didn’t belong here and he didn’t fucking care.
“He’s your surprise,” Valen said with a laugh. “I told you last night we were bringing you something today.”
“You did, but I had no idea,” I said, still in awe. Ryker was wearing tight black jeans and a Ramones tee shirt with a black leather jacket. Again, completely jarring in this environment, but he didn’t care. None of us cared. I was just thrilled to have him close to me.
“Come give me some sugar, princess,” Ryker said, his lopsided grin wide and open. That’s what I loved about him, his complete and utter ease when smiling at me, knowing what he wanted.
He held out his arms and I crossed the floor to him. He swept me up in his embrace and kissed me right there in the middle of the hallway. Kissed me like he was ready to fuck me again, even if everybody was watching.
But the bell rang for first period, a jarring reminder that we couldn’t strip down and have wild sex all over the school’s hallway, even though I wanted to with every cell in my body.
It was painful, but I had to leave them there and head to my first class. It felt like I was a ghost, a spirit girl floating through the hallways unnoticed and unseen. Everything felt off kilter, it was a jarring experience. I wasn’t the same person I’d been the last time I’d walked these halls, and I didn’t know how I was supposed to fit in anymore.
I ducked into the girl’s washroom to splash some water on my face and give my head a shake before class. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment, half expecting my reflection to tilt her head and drag me into the mirror, like some alternate dimension where I was still a prisoner and still being tortured for the amusement of rich men.
But nothing happened. My same dark hazel eyes looked back at me, and my lean face remained impassive. It had once been rounder, chubby even. Before all this. But I already had fine lines around the edges of my eyes and had an almost gaunt look to my cheeks. A hollow under my cheekbones gave me that sickly model look so many girls aspired to.