BANE: A Devils' Due MC Romance Novel by Ora Wilde Page B

meddling with their business.  They caught me and... well... let’s just say those fuckers did a number on me.  They wanted me to spill the beans on some things so they can prepare a damn ambush.  They were desperate to be... persuasive.  But I didn’t squeal.  I’d rather die than give them what they wanted.  I’m no rat.”
     
    He paused when he realized that his choice of words may have offended or hurt me.  It seemed like he felt a little bit of remorse as he didn’t even turn around to see my reaction.  He just sighed and wore the new shirt he got from the drawer.
     
    “The Gulf War?” I expressed my unfamiliarity about the subject.
     
    “Yep. 1991.  Where you already alive back then?”
     
    “Uhm... no... I was born in 1998.”
     
    “’98, huh?  That was a hell of a year!  Lots of troops were sent home in ’98, including me.  That crisis in the Middle East was startin’ to quiet down and there was no longer a need to maintain a large group of soldiers there, they said.  That’s a load of bull, if you’ll ask me.  I think they were just afraid of the Millennium Bug or something.  K2Y is it?”
     
    “Y2K,” I corrected him.  That part I learned from school.
     
    “Yeah, that motherfuckin’ virus shit.  Turned out to be all hot air though, right?  All the talk about it, then boom!  The new millennium came and nothin’ happened.”
     
    He wore his kutte and prepared to leave the room.
     
    “Well, get more sleep, kid,” he said as he walked towards the door.  “Got an early day ahead of ‘ya.”
     
    Before he could step out of the exit, however, he stopped as if he realized something that shocked him.  Then he shot me a quizzical look.
     
    “‘Ya said you were born in ’98?” he asked, perplexed.
     
    “Yes.”
     
    “That makes ‘ya... seventeen?  Eighteen?”
     
    “Eighteen.”
     
    “Oh... alright,” he remarked in a manner that was kind of weird, as if he didn’t expect me to be that young... or that old .  He stopped dead on his tracks for a while, nuzzling the knob repeatedly, before finally leaving the room.
     
    As soon as he closed the door, I began to wonder... what caused him to be all worked up like that when I told him my age?
     
    He was nice, though.  Rough, rugged, insensitive at times, but nice.  At least, nicer than the rest of the people in this clubhouse.
     
    I grabbed the extra pillow and hugged it.  I turned to my side and prepared to go back to sleep.  But slumber escaped me.
     
    I stayed awake until it was time to go to school... with a smile that never left my face... still amused by the sight of a large, hefty man losing his poise for a fleeting moment.
     
     

     
     
     
    The bell rang to signal the end of school.  My classmates cheered as they rushed out of the classroom.  I went with them, losing myself in the torrent of humanity that cascaded into the hallway, relishing the thought that I was actually with people who didn’t hate or who didn’t want me dead.
     
    Then, a hand held my arm and pulled me to the side.
     
    It was Justin.
     
    “Hey, Lana!” he greeted me as I was still trying to calm my nerves.  I didn’t know it was him.  I almost whacked his face with my bag.  “Sorry... did I alarm you?” he added when he noticed how taut my expression was.
     
    “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting being snatched into a corner like that,” I told him.  “I could’ve hit you.”
     
    He chuckled.
     
    “I’ll remember that.  I promise to be less... furtive... next time,” he said.
     
    “What’s the urgency?” I asked him. 
     
    “Oh, nothing,” he answered rather apprehensively.  “I was just wondering... if... well... would you like to have coffee with me?”
     
    “C-Coffee?” I repeated.  His question was just as surprising as being yanked away from the throng of students I was with earlier.
     
    “Yeah.  Beans & Bagels is just around the block.  We can have some blueberry cupcakes too, if