Page 6 of Misguided

“What’s he done now?”

“Picked up someone we need to bring home.”

I narrow my eyes on our president, wondering why he’s beating around the bush so much. King’s as straight up, no bullshit, as they come.

“Dare I ask who?” I say, sparking my smoke. “Or will you change the subject?”

He smirks. “How’s that new carburetor working out for you?”

Asshole.I shake my head, wandering over to the clubhouse to stock up on essentials. “How long we gone for?” I call out.

“Just the night,” he shouts back. “Bring a spare helmet.”

I hesitate at the door that leads inside and glance at him over my shoulder, lifting an eyebrow.

King laughs, pointing to the darkening sky. “Mighty fine weather we’re havin’ ain’t it?” Bastard’s laugh follows me down the hall as I walk through to the ruckus in the common room.

An hour ago I stared down the man who gave me life, wishing more than anything in the world I could have been born to anyone other than him. Just now, I felt what it would have been like had that wish come true.

Why waste my time with a man who doesn’t want anything other than to beat and shape me into his idea of perfection, when I’ve already got the role models I need in my life?

Everything I need is right here, right now.

Everything I am, contained in the colors that adorn my back.

Welcome home, Dog.