Deals With The Devil's Spawn

Growl and tell them to fuck off

"Thank you," I replied, throwing him a grateful smile, giving me one in return, he winked.

"It's the least I can do." Turning to glance out of the car window, he glared at the unsuspecting crowd of people that were getting closer to the car. "If you don't want to do this, we can-"

"It's fine, I'm fine," I interrupted. He turned back towards me and stared at me for a second, more than likely trying to figure out of I was telling the truth. Giving him a smile, I nodded, trying to reassure him. With a sigh, he turned to the car door and pulled it open, before getting out. Pulling in a shaky breath, I watched him walk around the car, ignoring the stares and whispers from our classmates.

Pulling open my door, he leaned in, blocking their view of me. "You know I can always just growl and tell them to fuck off, right?"

Laughing, I shook my head, amused. "Oh so that's how you do it, huh?"

"Yup, I'm happy to teach you if you want. Show me your best growl, let's see what we're working with," he instructed, playfully. Grinning, I let out the best growl I could and he gave me an unimpressed look. "Porter, that was really sad. You can do better."

Squinting my eyes at him, warningly, I growled again, this time glaring. He gave me a proud grin. "There it is. Just do that and tell them to fuck off."

"Yeah I don't think it'll be as effective as when you do it," I told him, laughing. "But I don't think even with you it'll work this time."

"Sure it will. I'll just threaten to cut out their eyes, as well," he replied, nonchalantly, shrugging a shoulder. "I'll show you how to do that with a scary face later."

"That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever offered to do for me," I said, placing a hand over my heart, dramatically. Shaking his head, he smirked. "Let's just get this part over with, shall we?"

Nodding, he held a hand out for me. Placing my smaller hand in his, I climbed out the car, keeping my eyes on his chest, avoiding the stares.

He turned around and moved towards the entrance of the school, his fingers tightening around my hand, as he kept his body in front of mine, shielding me from the crowd. I lifted my free hand, instinctively, and grabbed onto his forearm when I saw someone move closer towards us from my peripheral.

"Are fucking serious, Cavanaugh? She's a fucking murderer," someone in the crowd, asked, their tone hard and menacing. I felt Brayden’s entire body still, his arm hardening under my tight grip. He slowly turned towards the person, the coldness set in his eyes, making a shiver run through me.

"You gotta a problem? Actually, you know what? Scratch that. I don't give a flying fuck if you do. But, say one word to her, and I will rip your arms off and beat the shit of you with them, and then I'll make you kiss the bottom of her shoes. Are we clear?" he replied, his voice low and eerily calm. I watched from behind him as the guy, nodded, before shooting me a look over Brayden’s shoulder. "Don't look at her, look at me."

Turning back towards Brayden, he nodded again, before turning around and making his way out of the group. "And that goes for anyone who thinks they have balls of steel." Turning back towards the school, he moved, dragging me with him. Keeping my eyes low, I followed him to the entrance of the school, my heart crashing in my chest, and my mouth going dry.

I knew it had been a bad idea for him to drive me to school, but as much as I'd insisted that taking the bus was fine, he wouldn't take no for an answer. 'Cavanaughs don't let their girlfriends take the bus to school, Porter.' Bet he was regretting that now. I tried to warn him several different times that hanging around me would bring trouble for him, people hated my family, rightly so, and they shunned anyone who associated themselves with us. Which was one of the reasons, no one did.

Walking into the school, I fought the urge to groan when people stopped dead in their tracks and just stood staring at the odd couple walking in the door. Continuing down the hall towards my locker, I watched Brayden ignore them, and wished I could do the same. I wished I could walk down that hall as confidently as he did. I wished I could ignore the stares and pretend that I wasn't the daughter of a murderer. That people didn't hate me, and that my life was as normal as his. But, I couldn't. I couldn't forget my past, I couldn't forget where I came from, because as long as I lived in this town, I would be reminded of it everyday.

Reminding myself to just fucking breathe before I had another panic attack, I followed him down to my locker. As long as I reminded myself that I was safe and that even though I didn't have my switchblade with me, I had Brayden, I would be fine. And as scary as that thought was, I tried not to think about it, focusing instead on opening my locker and getting my books.

"You okay?" I heard Brayden ask next to me and I turned towards him with a smile.

"You know, for someone who claims to hate relationships, you're really good at them," I told him, grinning when he rolled his eyes.

"Of course I am, I told you, I'm great at everything I do. I just can't help myself, it's exhausting to be honest," he replied, smirking, and flicking my nose. Slapping his hand away, I closed my locker door and headed towards my first class.

"And again, full of yourself. So full of yourself," I replied, making him laugh.

"Didn't we establish that already?" he asked, shooting me a smirk. Letting out a low laugh, I nodded.

"Yeah, we have, but I like to remind you...You know, keep you humble. Which apparently is not working," I answered, with a smirk of my own, before coming to a stop when we reached my classroom. "This is me."

Looking up and behind me to the classroom filled with students, more than likely already glaring at my back, he took a step towards me, getting right into my personal space. My head snapped up towards him, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "I'm going to kiss your forehead, don't freak out."

"My forehead? You want to kiss my forehead? Why would you want to kiss my forehead? That's really intimate...should we be getting intimate? Oh.my.god...that was not a come on, I swear. I wasn't trying to hint anything. I know it sounded like that...but it sounded different in my brain." Sucking in a breath and letting it back out, I gave myself a few minutes, before asking again, "Why do you want to kiss my forehead, exactly?"

He stared at me with a grin. "Oh sorry, what was I thinking. If you prefer for me to push you against the lockers and kiss you good and proper, please do say the words."

Pulling my lips into my mouth, I gave him an unimpressed look, making him chuckle. "Forehead is fine."

"Are you sure you don't want to test how sturdy those lockers are? We could be saving lives," he replied, with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, because that's such a priority in this time and day. We have wars and cancer, but teens save students from shaky lockers by having a full on makeout session, is definitely the next big headline," I replied, shaking my head, amused.

"Who said it would be a full out makeout session? Porter Mathews, do you have a thing for being watched? See, I knew there was a dirty girl in you," he smirked, making me gasp.

"That's...what?...you-" The rest of whatever that was, never came out as I felt the air rush out of me when he pressed his lips on my forehead, lingering there for a second, before pulling away and giving me another one of those cheeky smiles.

"I'll see you later," he turned to walk back down the hallway before stopping, and turning back to me, "Oh, and I have hockey practice, so Macy is gonna give you a ride home."

Nodding, with a sigh, the idea of even attempting to fight him on that seeming futile, I watched him turn back around and head down the hall, multiple pairs of eyes following before shifting back towards me. Dragging in a shaky breath, I turned around, and pulled the door to my class open.

Well, there sure as hell was no turning back now.