Then we follow them to the coffee shop and see the moment Colton decides that maybe he should let Rylee in a bit, see where it takes them, and changes the direction of the entire story. Almost a new starting point if you will ...

I rev the Aston. Her purr reverberates against the concrete walls in front of me and echoes through the early morning over the collective chatter that fills the air. If the boys only knew how many times as a kid I dealt with this shit. Fucking know-it-all punks who picked on me because I was that “pity-case” the Westins took in—what most assumed was an attempt to keep their holier than thou public persona up.

Yeah right. If those fuckers only knew the hell my parents had saved me from. A bully’s fists and words were nothing compared to what I’d already lived through.

Sticks and stones. Sticks and stones.

Even if I didn’t look in the rearview mirror at the boys and their grins in the backseat, I’d know they were smiling from the unmistakable energy zinging in the car. They’ll get their due. I’ll make sure of it.

I rev the car again, and I can see Ry tense beside me as she prevents herself from telling me I’m breaking the rules. Rule follower and rule breaker. Opposites must really fucking attract. Huh? If she only knew how opposite we really were.

God I would love to tear into this parking lot and lay some rubber. Give the boys a real entrance that would leave the rest of the students talking for months. It takes all of my restraint not to. Instead, I slide the Aston in between the curb and the waiting line of suburbanite moms in their SUVs or minivans and their judgmental attitudes.

Time to make an entrance, boys. Time to turn the tables, give them some positive attention for once, and put those fucking bullies to shame.

I park askew up onto the dip in the sidewalk, angling the car on purpose so that the boys can make their grand entrance. I rev the motor a few more times for good measure before opening my door and climbing out of the car. I take a quick look and notice a few of the moms in their sweatpants look my way. They stop, angling sunglasses down to see if I’m who they really think I am.

Damn straight, ladies. In the fucking flesh.

I stretch my arms above my head, taking my time and groaning aloud for good measure as I watch mouths fall lax and hands fly immediately to smooth down their unruly morning ponytails. I walk around the front of the car and stifle a laugh as I notice the shuffling through purses and sudden appearance of lipstick tubes. Fucking pretentious women.

Like I’d go for you when I have her in my front seat. Are you fucking kidding me? Plastic, botox, and ditz or real, intelligent, and sexy as fuck? A few weeks ago the decision may have been different, but now—since Rylee—there isn’t one to be made.

Call me crazy.

Or pussy whipped.

I open the door for Rylee. My eyes instinctively scrape over her body and recall perfectly the feel of those curves beneath mine. She smirks at me—humor and curiosity mixed in her eyes—as she wonders how the reckless, quick to throw a punch Colton Donavan is going to handle these grade school punks.

I can’t help the smile on my face as I squat down and flip the seat forward. The looks on Scooter, Aiden, and Ricky’s faces are fucking priceless. I help them from the car and place my arms on their shoulders, the whisper of my name zipping through the crowd at my back.

That’s right. They’re with me, folks. No fucking with them any more.

I lean over to Aiden, the look of shock and fear and pride on his face makes me want to grab him and hug him. Tell him that no matter who you are or where you come from, there’s always someone who’ll stand up for you. “Do you see the bullies, buddy?”

His bruised little face looks around the crowd, and I know the minute he sees the punks. His body stiffens and fear or shame flickers momentarily through his eyes. For that look on his face alone, the fuckers should be suspended. I look to where he’s staring and know instantly whom my targets are. Seriously? I’m transported back twenty years in time and the fuckers could be interchangeable with those that tormented my years of school.

“Well, champ, it’s time to go prove a point.”

I urge the boys forward with my hands as I stand in the middle of the three of them, purposely moving as a solid unit. Mess with one of us, you get all of us. I can sense Ry’s apprehension as to how I’m going to handle this, but she really needs to give me more fucking credit.

I plaster an easy going grin to my face as we approach the boys. Gonna kill them with fucking kindness. “Hey, guys!” I say in greeting as the boys’ eyes widen like saucers and the shit-eating grins fade from their lips. “Hey, Aid, are these the boys that didn’t believe you were my buddy?”

“Yeah,” he croaks and looks up at me. And if I already didn’t love this fucking kid, the look on his face makes me love him even more now. Eyes startled. Freckles scrunching. Lips turning up at the corners in a disbelieving smile. Yeah, buddy, you’re more than worth sticking up for. It’s time to start believing it.

“Oh man!” I say turning back to dumb and dumber. “You should’ve seen Aiden on Sunday. I let him bring six of his friends, including Ricky and Scooter here…” I squeeze their shoulders to let them know they’re just as worthy “…with him to the track to test out the car, and boy were they the biggest help to me! We had so much fun!”

I can feel all three boys stand a little taller and I know that a bit of confidence has been restored in their damaged souls. They’ve still got a long way to go, but it’s a start.

“Too bad you guys aren’t friends of his or maybe you could have gone too!” It takes everything I have to not tell dumber to close his mouth because he’s going to catch a fly if he keeps looking at me like that. Then again, it serves him right for picking on the weak. No, not weak—after everything these kids have been through, definitely not weak. More like damaged. Yeah damaged but hopefully repairable.

Unlike me.

The school bell buzzes and it’s only now I realize the crowd around us. I’ve been too busy restoring the boys’ dignity to notice. And honestly, fuck if I care. I note the bystanders’ eyes flicker over my shoulder, and I have a feeling the dipshit authority is near. I don’t even have to check because I know the look he’ll have on his face already. It’s embedded in my memory from too many trips myself. I guess pissing off principals is one thing I’ll never stop doing whether I’m thirteen or thirty.

It’s time to make sure the crowd understands where I stand in regards to the boys. I ratchet my smile up a notch and wink at the bullies. “Bye, boys! Make sure you say ‘hi’ to my man Aiden here when you see him in class!”

They just continue to stare at me as The Suit uses his hands to physically guide them toward the front doors of the school. He then turns back to Aiden, Ricky, and Scooter. “Boys, you too,” he says in a monotone that makes me think of the teacher in Ferris Bueller.

I glance over at Rylee for the first time during this whole display, and I can see her fighting back a smirk. She just subtly nods her head at me when I ask her with my eyes if this is the prick taking sides. It takes everything I have to keep my temper reined in this time because the boys are still attached to my sides. Fucking judgmental asshole.

My smile is so fake it kills me. “One moment please, sir. I just need to say bye to my boys.” I go to face the boys but I can’t. I have to say something right here, right now. For the little boy in me always doubted and deemed at fault, for the hundreds of others like me, and for the boys beside me living it in the present.

I hang my head for a moment to make sure that my composure is nothing less than respectful. And that in itself is a fucking feat. “Next time, sir, it’d be best to remember that Aiden is telling the truth. It’s the bullies that need to be sent home, not good kids like Aiden here. He may not be perfect, but just because he doesn’t come from a traditional home, doesn’t mean that he’s at fault.” I stare at him, holding those flustered eyes of his as he listens—not just hears but listens—to the words I’ve said. When I see them register, I do the only disrespectful thing that I can and turn my back on him, dismissing him without further comment.