Daddy’s wild girl

Chapter 36

The next few days were a blur of flickering television screens and empty chip bags. Bella stayed anchored to her bed, hiding from the world. She hadn't been to class in over a week. The fiery girl who had swung a pair of pliers in the hallway had been replaced by a girl buried under a mountain of blankets.

Bella was covered from head to toe, creating a dark, soft cave where the outside world couldn't reach her. She was halfway through a movie when the "cave" was suddenly ripped away.

Molly yanked the blanket back, letting a sharp, brutal ray of sunshine hit Bella’s face. Bella winced, her eyes stinging as she let out a sharp hiss.

"Oh, you did not just hiss at me, Little Miss Vampire," Molly said, her hands on her hips.

"It would have been cooler if I were a vampire and not a wolf," Bella grumbled, shielding her eyes. "At least then I could have drained Ethan’s blood and been done with it."

"Speaking of Ethan, I haven't seen him in class lately either," Molly noted, glancing around the messy room. "The whole school is quiet. It’s weird."

"Well, he’s probably off in some dark corner looking for someone else to torment," Bella said tiredly. She reached out, trying to grab her blanket to sink back into her hole, but Molly held it out of reach.

"Molly," Bella warned, her voice flat.

"Girl, you cannot stay in bed munching on chips until you rot away," Molly countered.

"Watch me," Bella challenged, lunging forward to snag the fabric. She grabbed the edge and dragged Molly closer in the tug-of-war.

"Molly, give it—"

As Bella leaned in, a puff of her breath hit Molly square in the face. Molly’s head recoiled, her nose wrinkling in pure disgust. She looked like she was about to puke.

"Ugh! Girl, when was the last time you brushed your teeth?" Molly cried, waving a hand in front of her face. "Bella, you are a total mess! You smell like a sourdough starter!"

Bella paused, her hand dropping from the blanket. She caught her own scent—stale chips, old sweat, and the faint, metallic tang of her "wolf" side that seemed to get stronger when she was lazy.

"I'm mourning," Bella muttered, though she sounded less sure of herself now.

"You're not mourning, you're fermenting!" Molly snapped, throwing a clean towel at Bella’s head. "Get up. Shower. Now. Or I’m calling Reyes to come drag you out of here himself."

Bella froze at the mention of Reyes. She didn't want him to see her like this—looking like a defeated swamp creature.

"Fine," Bella groaned, sliding out of bed. Her legs felt like jelly. "But if I run into Ethan and I kill him, it’s officially your fault for making me leave the room."

The hallway was a gauntlet. Molly practically had her arm hooked through Bella’s, anchoring her as they moved through the sea of students. Bella felt sluggish, her joints heavy from a week of rotting in bed, but her gaze was sharp.

As they passed, the usual whispers died down. Most students looked away, afraid to catch the eye of the girl who had leveled Ethan with a pair of pliers. Only Amelia and her inner circle stood their ground, leaning against the lockers and throwing daggers with their eyes.

Bella didn't even slow down. She simply raised her hand and gave them a slow, deliberate middle finger. Amelia’s jaw dropped, and a chorus of shocked gasps followed Bella down the hall. She wasn't playing the victim anymore.

Near the entrance to the courtyard, she spotted Reyes.

"Reyes, can we talk?" she asked, her voice rasping slightly from disuse.

Molly gave her a supportive squeeze before heading toward class, leaving them alone. Reyes looked at Bella with a mixture of guilt and relief. "I’m sorry, Bella," he started, his voice heavy. "I told Ethan to stay away from you. I thought he understood the debt he owed me."

"It’s not your fault," Bella said, shaking her head. "You tried to help. You're the only reason I’m even standing here."

Reyes opened his mouth, his brow furrowed. "Bella, about the pool... I don't think it was Ethan who—"

He was cut off by a sudden whoosh of air. A stray basketball came hurtling toward Bella’s head at full speed. Before she could even flinch, a hand shot out from the side, catching the ball with a deafening thwack just inches from her face.

Bella blinked, her heart hammering against her ribs. She looked up.

Ethan was standing there, the basketball tucked casually under one arm. He wasn't scowling or looming. Instead, a bright, chillingly perfect smile was plastered on his face.

"Babe, are you okay?" he asked. His voice was loud—intentionally loud.

Bella’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Babe?" she hissed, her face contorting in confusion and disgust.

Reyes stepped forward, his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. "What did you just say?"

Ethan didn't even look at him. He turned toward the crowded hallway, his voice booming, commanding the attention of every single soul in the building.

"Listen up!" Ethan yelled. The hallway went silent instantly. "I have an announcement. As of today, Bella is my girlfriend. If I see anyone—and I mean anyone—touching her or looking at her the wrong way, you’ll have to answer to me."

The silence that followed was absolute. People gasped, clutching their bags. Ethan had never, in all his years of tormenting the school, claimed anyone. He didn't do "girlfriends."

"What?" Bella uttered, her brain struggling to keep up with the sheer insanity of the moment. "Ethan, what the hell are you—"

"Should we make it official in front of everyone?" Ethan interrupted, his eyes dancing with a dark, mocking light.

Before Bella could process the threat, Ethan reached out. His hand moved like lightning, gripping her waist and pulling her flush against his chest. He leaned down, silencing her protest by crashing his lips onto hers.

The world seemed to tilt. Bella’s eyes stayed wide, locked in shock, as the sound of a hundred dropped books and muffled screams erupted around them. It wasn't a sweet kiss; it was a claim—a public marking that told the world the war between them had just turned into something much more dangerous.