My Asshole Roommate

~*Chapter 12*~

Aiden

I wake up at first slowly, and then far too fast. I sit up suddenly as I remember the events of last night. Zora mumbles vaguely in protest at being moved and I let out a sigh of relief to see her safe in my arms. I watch her for a moment, letting my heartbeat slow back. She turns sleepily in my arms, and I smile. Suddenly I see the L.R. as my stolen hoodie gets hiked up.

It hits me quickly and I don't deny my conscious

 I am going to kill Lucifer Ross.

I've let go of the confused, feral rage of last night. Now my anger is as cold and precisely sharp as a knife.

I slide carefully out of bed and shrug on a random hoodie and sweatpants- all of my clothes are black, there's no need to match-  and bend to kiss Zora's forehead gently, stroking aside strands of raven hair and smoothing out worry-wrinkles.

 I could have stayed and watched her forever, her chest rising and falling, reassurance of her breathing,living,safe and sound but her eyelids flicker and I step back to not wake her up. Quietly and quickly, I slip away.

I stand in the drab corridor as I light a cigarette from my pocket, and begin to figure out how to carry out the plan I made yesterday night.

I need to go beg -no, not beg, that sounds too pathetic- ask my stand- in -father for money and the licence to kill someone.

I find the "fire escape" window as Max jokingly calls it, and climb down the oak tree's branches, and leap easily down to the fag-strewn parking lot ground.

It's a sudden change, the cold air from the heated interior of the school, but i stride to my car, clicking the key without shivering, kicking away an acorn.

I groan as I get into the car, throwing down my hood- the car is warmer than both the schools shitty internal heating and the freezing parking lot. 

fuck, fuck, fuck, I don't want to see my psycho step-dad without three days of preparation- 

but then I think of Lucifer's hands stroking Zara's hip like she's his.

The fire of my anger leaps and concentrates into a flame which could melt steel like butter.

I hit the gas.

<<>><<>>

I make my face blank, as Sebastian Swift -king of five cartels, gang- boss, the biggest, baddest wolf in this part of America and my stepdad- gives me a questioning glance.

He doesn't look surprised when he sees me walk into his favorite cafe in a practiced stride-not hurried enough to be  suspicious, still with enough speed and importance that people clear from my path- when I'm supposed to be at English in the wilds of America in Irvine.

I wonder if he's ever surprised- then shake that thought away like a dog flinging away water droplets, Swift might be eerie and terrifying, but he's human, made of flesh and cunning.

Not some many-eyed hydra, watching my every move across a country.

Even if it feels like that sometimes.

Cross that

All the time.

I clear my throat quietly, but with enough sharpness to stop conversation- he taught me that.

"Swift." I dip my head respectfully at him.

He motions for me to sit with a tattooed hand.

I do, dropping my hood back- another sign of respect his demeanour insists on.