Subject Me To Love [Book Two]

Chapter Six

*Not edited* Not proofread*

Chapter Six— Go back to your knitting:

        "Hey, Kody?" There's two quick knocks on the door before the handle rattles, Jace's voice calm and soft on the other side. I pause what I'm doing and stare at the door with slightly wide eyes. "Uh, why is your door locked?"

        I quickly think of a believable reply. "Because you don't understand the meaning of privacy and I want a few minutes to myself."

        Staying still and silent for a couple of seconds, I wait for his reply. I could never lie when it came to Jace. I never really had any reason to and he knew me well enough to catch me out even on the rare occasions I did lie to him. So I hope he doesn't catch on to this one.

"Alright, brat," I can picture him rolling his eyes, but he sounds unsuspecting. "I just wanted to see if you're okay."

        "I'm fine," I raise my voice a little so he can hear me loud and clear. "Now piss off."

       "Nice," I hear him mumble. "And can you please start picking your towels off floor after you've showered?"

"Yes, okay. Leave."

Without another word, I hear his footsteps start to fade as he walks away, probably going back downstairs. I wait a few minutes until I go back to carefully climbing out of my window, being extremely quiet as I do so. If Jace was to catch me sneaking out, then he'd wonder where I'm going, and I'd have to tell him, then he'd stop be from going.

Once my feet are firmly planted on the tiled roof below me, I pull my window closed and turn myself around. As I do this, my eyes meet the wrinkling, glassy, brown ones of my nosey, old neighbour. She stands with her arms folded as she peers up at my sneaky form sitting on the roof of my temporary house. She shakes her head and it makes me frown.

"What are you tutting at, old lady?" I hiss, loud enough so she can hear but not too loud as so Jace doesn't. "Go back to your knitting."

"You Mexican's," she turns her nose up. "So disrespectful. Especially the young ones."

"Shut the fuck up or I'll make the breaking of your hip look like an accident," I retort, satisfied when she glares at me angrily before hobbling back inside.

We haven't had many encounters since I've lived here, but the times we have met have not been pleasant. She always makes comments about Mexican's and has complained more than a few times about my "dirty, flea-riddled mutt". Jace says I can't do anything about it, that some people are just obnoxious, but I disagree. There are a lot of things I could do to that little old lady and neither options involve her surviving.

Carrying on with the task at hand, I continue to scale the trellis panels down the side of the small building until I'm firmly rooted to the ground.

Instead of sneaking around to the front of the house where my car sits in the driveway, I take a right into my neighbours front lawn so that Jace doesn't see me if he were to look out the window. This means I can't use my own car, but it's not a problem— I'll just highjack someone else's.

Stuffing my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, the tips of my cold fingers meet the small crumpled up piece of paper that lays torn at the bottom. A scruffily-written address inked on to its surface.

___

        Leaving the room, I head straight towards the elevator, pressing the ground floor the moment I step inside. A few more people clamber into the already small space, and I bite down on my teeth in irritation.