The Bad Boy Calls Me Kitten

Chapter Eleven

*A moment of silence for the holy hotness of Diego Barrueco*

Carry on.

 

I picked mindlessly at the lasagna Marie had prepared for dinner that night. A piece of broccoli tumbled out. The clock inched towards the 11. Dad and Marie were chuckling heartily at whatever he said. I blocked out most of the conversation.

I couldn't get over what Marie had told me.

Okay. So maybe I was overreacting. I mean, even Marie had said the system was corrupt. Maybe Scar had told me his parents died in a car accident because it was too complicated to say what actually happened. I couldn't blame him for not bringing up old memories. After all, it was better to lie than to explain they died from a drug overdose. A pang of guilt floated up in my chest. I couldn't imagine what he had went through.

Scar's past was risky, I knew that much. Someone even stabbed him because of what he did, for Pete's sake! He owed money to people. His parents didn't die in a car crash. His little sister had gone missing when she was 3. He lived alone. 

He was everything I should avoid.

Marie suddenly glanced at me. "Genevieve, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale. Maybe we did overdo it at the mall."

"I'll say." Dad chuckled.

I nodded, giving a small smile as to not raise any suspicions. Marie still looked at me worriedly. I finished most of the lasagna in 5 minutes. A sudden thought came to mind. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight without knowing the real story with Scar. So why not get it directly from the source?

"Um, maybe I'm not feeling to well Dad." I lied. "I think I'm gonna crash for the rest of the night. Good night Dad. And Marie." I added. I stumbled up and put my plate in the sink, so caught up in thinking that I didn't even bother washing it. Marie gave me a tight smile as I left.

My feet padded the steps as I quickly hurried to my room. After making sure that Marie and Dad were still talking quietly in the kitchen, I set up my bed as I would do when I was sleeping. Only tonight, I wouldn't be there. All I needed was 5 minutes alone with Scar, just to talk. Then I would go back to avoiding him. Hopefully, my father wouldn't check up on me tonight. Him and Marie had been drinking copious amounts of red wine with dinner, so I hoped the luck was in my favor.

I pulled on a black sweater and converse, trying to form a plan. Obviously, I couldn't sneak out the front door. Or the back door, because the only one available was in the kitchen. My best chance was through the window, like Scar had done. Hopefully, I wouldn't die. 

Hopefully.

Although I was pretty sure I would.

God help me. 

I opened the window, instantly chilled by the winter night air. Ignoring the cold, I pulled myself out and stepped very carefully onto the ledge. My first steps on the roof were shaky. There was only a few shingles of tile between the roof and the pavement below. I stumbled my way across, holding onto the house. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears as I neared the end of the roof, where a trail of dead roses grew up the side along a thick, ladder-like board.

I suddenly felt my left foot lose grip of the shingles. I let out a harsh yelp, feeling my heart drop straight to my toes. My hands shot out to grab onto one of the window sills I was passing. I stood there for a few seconds, heart thudding. This was so not worth it. This was so freaking not worth it. What in God's green earth was I thinking, climbing out of a window just to get some information?! It was not worth it. I was gonna die. I was gonna d-