Oops, Wrong Girl to Bully Chapter 10

Angelina's POV

The room went quiet except for Jayden's whimpering.

I stood there, knife still in my hand, watching his guys frozen against the wall.

The one with the braided hair—looked like the second-in-command—finally found his voice.

"Look." He held up both hands. "We don't want trouble, okay? We're just doing our job. Everyone's gotta eat, right?"

I tilted my head. "You were gonna cut off my brother's finger."

"That was—that was just to scare you. We wouldn't actually—"

"Liar."

He swallowed hard. "Okay, fine. But come on. You made your point. Let us take our boss and go, and we'll call it even. No hard feelings."

One of the other guys couldn't help himself. "Boss, we can't just—"

"Shut up!" Braids hissed.

But the damage was done. The third guy, the one with the neck tattoo, stepped forward.

"Fuck this." His voice shook, but he tried to sound tough. "I don't care if she's a kid. She cut off Jayden's fingers! We can't let that slide!"

"Are you stupid?" Braids grabbed his arm. "Look at her!"

"She's just some little bitch who got lucky—"

"I've killed people!" Neck Tattoo's voice cracked. "I've done time! I'm not scared of some high school girl!"

I laughed.

Couldn't help it.

The sound made everyone flinch.

"You've killed people?" I walked toward him. Slow. Each step deliberate. "How many?"

He backed up. Hit the wall. "That's—that's none of your business—"

"I'll tell you how many I've killed." I stopped in front of him. Looked up at his face. "Since you're so curious."

My hand tightened on the knife.

"2199."

The number hung in the air.

Nobody moved.

"2200."

Neck Tattoo's eyes went wide. "What are you—"

"2201."

I pointed the knife at Braids. Then at the guy holding Jayden. Then at the one by the window.

"2202." The knife settled on Neck Tattoo. "That's you."

His face went white. "You're fucking crazy—"

"Maybe." I smiled. "But you'll be number 2202. Congratulations."

"Aria!"

Mom's voice cut through the room like a gunshot.

I turned.

She was staring at me like she didn't recognize me. Face white. Hands shaking.

Then she moved.

Rushed across the room. Grabbed my hand—the one holding the knife.

Her fingers were rough. Callused from years of washing dishes and carrying heavy trays. But they were gentle as they pried the knife from my grip.

"Baby." Her other hand went to my forehead. Checking for fever. "What's wrong with you? Did you hit your head? This isn't—this isn't you!"

I blinked.

Looked at her face. Really looked.

Crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. Gray streaks in her hair she didn't have time to dye. The permanent exhaustion etched into every line.

Behind her, Leo was still staring at me like he'd never seen me before.

If Mom hadn't stopped me, I thought, these guys would already be dead.

The realization hit like cold water.

I'd been about to kill them. Right here in our living room. In front of my family.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Just like the old days.

I looked at Mom. At the fear in her eyes—not fear of the gangsters, but fear for me. Of what I'd become in the last five minutes.

"Do you want me to let them go?" The question came out softer than I meant it.

The Raven Court would be shocked, I thought. The cold, ruthless Alpha King, asking permission from her mother.

But I wanted to hear her say it.

Mom's face crumpled. She was still checking me for injuries, hands patting my arms, my shoulders. "Yes! Yes, please, just—" Her voice broke. "Are you running a fever? You feel warm. Did you hit your head at the hospital? Should we go back?"

She wasn't making sense. Barely coherent.

Still in shock from everything that just happened.

I looked past her at Jayden's crew.

"Get out."

They didn't need to be told twice.

Braids grabbed Jayden under the arms. The others rushed to help, lifting their boss off the floor.

They were halfway to the door when I called out: "Wait."

Everyone froze.

"You forgot something."

I pointed at the floor.

Jayden's fingers. Three pieces. Sitting in a pool of blood.

Braids' face went green, but he bent down. Scooped them up with a napkin from our table.

Then they were gone.

Door slamming. Footsteps pounding down the driveway. Car engine roaring to life.

The house went silent.

Mom let out a breath that sounded more like a sob. Grabbed my face with both hands.

"Oh God. Oh God, baby, are you okay? Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?"

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine! You just—you just—" She couldn't finish the sentence. Started checking me for injuries again. "We need to go. Right now. You and Leo. I'm calling your grandmother. You'll go stay with her up north until this blows over—"

"Mom—"

"Don't argue with me!" Her voice cracked. "These are dangerous people! They'll come back! They'll—" She fumbled for her phone. "I need to call your father. And Ethan. We need to figure out—"

"I'm not going."

The words came out flat. Final.

Mom froze. "What?"

"I'm not running." I met her eyes. "I never run."

"Aria, this isn't a game! These men could kill you!"

"I'm not going."

"Me neither," Leo said.

We both turned to look at him.