Chapter Three

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Dylan

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Dylan

It's been four fucking days since we last had to run. We're tired, we're hungry, and worst of all, I'm thisclose to just calling it quits and turning myself in.

I mean, what life is this? Constantly on the run, looking over my shoulder everywhere I go. That's not a life. I may as well have died alongside my parents.

"I'm hungry," Jett groans and sits on the curb.

"No shit." I make no effort in hiding my annoyance. He just doesn't stop. If he's not buying drugs, he's wasting the rest on a shit load of unnecessary snacks, and that leaves us with little to no money to buy real food.

"Why are you being so belligerent, bro?" He asks with a smirk.

I look down at him, my face screwing up. "What?"

"I think it means angry or some shit. Girls like smart guys." He takes a swig of his beer and I shake my head. It's barely five in the afternoon. "You're an idiot."

I sit next to him and snatch the bottle out of his hands, taking a sip of it myself. I make a face when the warm liquid hits my tongue and pass it back. "How can you drink that?"

He doesn't reply. Instead he's focusing on some girl from across the street. Not that I blame him though. Skinny jeans that cling to a nice, perky ass, dark burgundy hair that flows just above it, and a nice rack covered behind a vest top which hangs dangerously low.

As if she can feel my eyes on her, she turns and sees me. I know I need to look away but I can't tear my eyes from her. She's fucking gorgeous.

Now I look like a creep. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Then her eyes narrow, her brows crease, and before I know it, she's storming up to us with anger blazing in her eyes?

Don't get me wrong, she should be mad we're staring. It would mean she has at least some standards. But I don't think it would make someone mad enough to walk across the street and scold us like little children for it.

"You two. Over here, now."

Jesus.

We both stand and walk over to the alley a good few meters away and I scratch the back of my head. "If this is because we were staring at you—"

"You fucking broke into Alfred's!"

I shouldn't have to say I'm pretty surprised by the question.

How the hell does she know that?

"Lady, what are you talking about?" Jett chuckles and I wish he'd shut his mouth now more than ever.

The girl slams him against the wall, and if she were a cartoon character, steam would be shooting out of her ears. "Listen here, I don't know who the hell you two think you are, but this is the only warning I'm going to give you. If you ever pull a stunt like that again so help me God, I will—"

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