My Fault (JJK) BOOK 1

Y/N - 5

The last thing I wanted at that moment was to owe something to that bastard, but I was even less inclined to stay behind with my mother and her husband and watch her drool over him while he waved around his bucks and showed off how much pull he had.

Jungkook turned his back to me and walked out.

I said an unenthusiastic goodbye to Mom and hurried after him. When I reached the door, I stopped, crossed my arms, and waited for the valet to pull his car around.

Big surprise—he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and lit one up, bringing it slowly to his lips and then expelling the smoke in long plumes.

I'd never smoked; I'd never even tried tobacco when all my friends were into it and would sneak cigarettes in the girls' bathroom at school. I didn't understand what pleasure a person could take in inhaling carcinogenic smoke that left a nasty scent on your hair and clothes and was also bad for like a thousand organs.

As if he was reading my mind, Jungkook smiled mirthfully and held out his pack.

"You want one, little sister?" he asked, and then took another drag off his.

"I don't smoke. And if I were you, I wouldn't, either. You don't want to endanger the only neuron you've got." I stepped forward so I didn't have to see him.

I could feel he was close to me, but I didn't move, even when the smoke coming out of his mouth snaked creepily around my neck.

"Be careful. I might just leave you here stranded so you can walk home," he warned me just as his car was pulling up.

I ignored him as much as I could during the drive. His SUV was so high off the ground he could see everything if I wasn't careful getting in, and as I did, I regretted putting on those dumb shoes. All the frustration, anger, and sorrow had grown worse as the night went on, and the five or more arguments I'd had with this idiot had turned it into the absolute worst night of my life.

I struggled to put on my seat belt while Jungkook stuck the key in the ignition, pressed his hand against my headrest, hit reverse, and then turned onto the road leading out. I wasn't surprised that he didn't follow the roundabout—a roundabout that was placed there precisely in order to keep people from driving the way Jungkook was.

I couldn't help but groan when we got back on the main road. Outside the club, my stepbrother sped up, hitting seventy, deliberately ignoring the traffic signs that said the speed limit was forty-five.

"What's your problem, anyway?" Jungkook asked in a weary tone, as if he couldn't put up with me a minute more. That makes two of us, I thought.

"Well, I don't want to die on the road with some maniac who doesn't know how to read a road sign. That's one problem," I shouted. I was at my limit. Anything else and I'd start screaming like a banshee. I knew I was short-fused. One of the things I hated most about myself was my lack of self-control when I got angry, the way I could so easily raise my voice and turn to insults.

"What the fuck's up with you? You haven't stopped complaining ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you, and honestly, I don't give a shit what your problems are. This is my home, my city, and my car, so shut your mouth until we get back," he said, shouting just as I had.

An intense heat filled my body from head to toe when I heard those words. Nobody told me what to do...least of all him.

"Who the hell are you to tell me to shut up?!" I was beside myself.

Jungkook jerked the wheel and braked so hard, if I hadn't put on my seat belt, I'd have shot right through the windshield.

When I got over the shock, I looked back and was scared to see two cars turning quickly right to avoid hitting us. Horns honked, and drivers shouted insults, and for a moment, I was stunned. Then I reacted.