Renegade Path

“Sucks, right?” I said to fill the silence between us.

Her lips curved up in a soft smile. “It’s not so bad. One day I’ll have my own family, and I’ll know all the right things to give them.”

The longing in her voice hit me on a primal level. I didn’t understand what having a family meant. It had always seemed too unattainable. But the way Juliet talked about it made me want to figure it out. With her.

I’d never had the luxury of thinking that far ahead in my life.

I was too busy surviving from one day to the next. But Juliet made me want to think ahead. She made me hope for things I’d been afraid to admit to myself I even wanted.

Before I opened my mouth and offered to make some babies with her, someone slammed into me from behind. My shoulder hit the corner of the open locker door and I narrowly missed knocking Juliet over.

“Watch it, new guy,” the brawny football player I’d showed up in gym class earlier said. He high-fived his equally jackass friends.

It wasn’t pride that forced me to go after him. I didn’t care that Juliet saw me get shoved like a little kid.

No, it was blind rage. That fucker had pushed me right into her. She could’ve been hurt, and he did it without thinking.

I’d been pushed around enough at that point in my life. By foster parents, teachers, other kids. I’d learned early that the world was cruel.

I also learned not to take shit from anyone.

If you couldn’t stand up for yourself, no one would do it for you. And if I couldn’t defend myself, how could I protect anyone else?

“Roman—” Juliet said, but I was already sailing through the air, tackling Doug to his knees and punching him in the side.

The violence in my eyes and fists made his two buddies back away instead of helping their unfortunate friend.

Two teachers and a security guard pulled me off the kid, but I still kept fighting.

Until I saw Juliet shaking her head. Tears in her eyes.

“Don’t,” she mouthed at me.

It was a bucket of ice water over my hot-tempered head.

Chapter Three

Juliet

“Roman, don’t.”

I wasn’t afraid he’d get hurt.

No, obviously, Roman was the kind of guy who could take care of himself. I was more worried he’d kill Doug Winstead and end up in jail. Doug deserved the ass-kicking. He’d been picking on younger, weaker kids for as long as I could remember.

My bigger fear was that Roman would get expelled from school before I got to know him better.

Selfish? Maybe. But I’d never met anyone who affected me the way he did. Despite the fact that we’d met while he was kicking in my locker, he was the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen.

Boy probably wasn’t accurate. He had the seriousness of a man who’d already seen it all. Survived it all. Rich, brown hair fell over his forehead, complimenting his green eyes. The brief smile he flashed made me weak in the knees. He didn’t seem to notice that half the girls in the school were gawking at him, practically running into walls because they were staring so hard.

But he never took his eyes off me.

Destiny.

Before Roman, I believed my sad story was already written.

Love at first sight.

My cousin Debbie had always reminisced about how she fell in love with her husband the minute she met him in ninth grade. I loved her, but her story made zero sense to me. Only when I looked into Roman’s olive-green eyes did I finally understand.

Maybe I affected him too. He stopped resisting and allowed the security guard to drag him down the hall. I chased after him, but Mrs. Johnson, my AP English teacher, stopped me.

“Don’t, honey. You don’t need to be involved with trash like that. He’s not going anywhere good in life.”

My temper flared. “Doug started it. He’s always starting trouble. Hurting kids who can’t fight back. This time he picked on the wrong person and got what he deserved.”

She recoiled. I hardly ever spoke up or talked back to teachers. I earned high marks, but I kept to myself.

My outburst seemed to change her mind. “Go ahead down to the principal’s office and let Mr. W. know what happened.” She glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll give you a pass.”

Relief that at least one adult in my life seemed to have some decency flooded through me. I accepted the pass and hurried downstairs.

Mr. W. was no-nonsense. We called him Mr. W. because no one could pronounce or spell his last name. I’d never been in his office before.

I stepped into the main office and his secretary glanced up. “Juliet? What are you doing down here?”

“I have a pass.” I swallowed hard, finding my courage. “I need to speak to Mr. W. about the fight. I saw what happened.”