My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 65

Chapter 65 A Reputation Refusing Redemption

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*I saw exactly what was there,” I countered, dropping my backpack onto the concrete steps. I took a step up, refusing to let him tower

over me. I moved directly into his space, the scent of cedar and sharp peppermint washing over my senses. “I saw you laugh, Ryder. I saw

you pick up a yellow pencil and patiently explain subtraction to a little girl who was frustrated. You weren’t hurting anyone. You were

helping.”

“Stop,” he commanded, his jaw clenching so hard it looked painful.

“No,” I pressed, the adrenaline flooding my veins. “For three years, I believed the exact same lie as everyone else. I believed you were dangerous. I believed you threw punches because you enjoyed the violence. But that’s not true, is it? The leather jacket, the glaring, the

suspensions… it’s just armor.”

Ryder whipped his head back around.

His hazel eyes were pitch black, the pupils dilated so far there was barely a ring of color left. He looked completely unhinged by the absolute accuracy of my words. He hated that I had stripped him bare. He hated that I had found the one, secret corner of the world

where he actually allowed himself to be soft.

He reached out, his large hands slamming heavily against the steel railing on either side of my waist.

He trapped me. He boxed me in against the cold metal, leaning his broad chest forward until his faded henley brushed against the lapels

of my navy blazer.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me, Petrova,” he rasped, his breath hot and heavy against my skin. He was trying to intimidate me. He was trying to force me to flinch, to force me back into the terrified, compliant box I had lived in before the contract.

I didn’t flinch. I tilted my chin up, holding his dark, burning stare.

“I broke a sophomore’s nose in the locker room last year,” Ryder continued, his voice thick and malicious, listing his crimes like a desperate shield. “I put a guy in the hospital over a parking spot. I dented a metal locker last week just to make Miller bleed. I am exactly

what they say I am.”

“You hit the locker because Miller insulted me,” I whispered, the devastating truth cutting straight through his aggressive posturing. “You protect people. You protect me. You protect Mia.”

“I am not a protector!” he shouted, the sound echoing violently up the empty concrete shaft.

The sheer force of his voice made my ears ring.

He dropped his head, his forehead resting heavily against the steel railing right next to my shoulder. His entire massive frame was trembling. The violent, feral energy completely collapsed, leaving behind a boy who looked like he was buckling under the weight of the

entire world.

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12:54 Fri, Jul 10

Chapter 65 A Reputation Refusing Redemption

“I’m not,” he whispered, the anger entirely gone, replaced by a raw, crushing despair that physically hurt to hear. “I’m a wrecking ball,

Raisa. My last name is a poison pill in this town. Everything I touch breaks. Everything.”

I stared at his dark, messy hair. My hands ached with the overwhelming, desperate need to reach out and touch him. To run my fingers

through the dark strands and tell him that his father’s sins did not belong to him.

“You didn’t break me,’ I said softly.

I slowly lifted my trembling hands. I didn’t reach for his face. I flattened my palms against the solid, unyielding center of his chest. I could feel the frantic, erratic hammering of his heart beneath the faded cotton of his shirt.

“You kept me safe,” I continued, my voice barely above a whisper in the echoing stairwell. “You stood between me and Harper. You stood between me and Mr. Harrison. When I was drowning in that pep rally, you held my hand.”

Ryder didn’t move. He kept his head bowed, his breathing hitched and uneven.

“You’re not a monster, Ryder,” I breathed, my thumbs gently stroking the warm fabric over his chest. “You’re the most honorable person I

know.”

Ryder jerked backward as if I had burned him.

He ripped himself away from the steel railing, putting three feet of cold, empty space between us. He stared at me, his hazel eyes wide and completely blown out with absolute terror.

It wasn’t the fear of getting caught by a teacher. It wasn’t the fear of expulsion.

It was the profound, paralyzing terror of being seen as something good.

“Don’t,” he rasped, his voice cracking horribly. He took another step back, retreating toward the heavy fire door. His chest was heaving, his hands rubbing frantically against his jaw.

“Ryder, I pleaded, taking a step down toward him.

‘Don’t look at me like that,” he commanded, holding up a shaking, bruised hand to stop me in my tracks.

The raw agony in his eyes completely stripped the oxygen from my lungs.

‘Don’t look at me like I’m a good guy, Raisa,” he whispered, the words tearing out of his throat, jagged and bleeding. “Because if you look

at me like that… if you actually believe I’m worth something… I’m going to ruin you. And I can’t live with that.”

He didn’t wait for me to argue. He didn’t wait for me to close the distance.

He turned around, shoved the heavy metal fire door open, and disappeared into the crowded, noisy hallway.

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