My Fake Boyfriend Is the School Bad Boy novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90 A Decision Made to Prove Strength

🙂

Ryder exhaled a ragged breath. He dropped his hands. He opened the passenger door again. This time, I climbed inside.

He drove me home in silence. The air in the cab felt thick and unresolved. He pulled up to my curb. He waited until I unlocked the front door and stepped inside the hallway. I heard the roar of his engine fade down the street, carrying him back to the dark corners of the city.

The house felt empty. The ticking wall clock in the kitchen mocked the quiet.

I sat on the edge of my bed. The afternoon bled into evening. The sky outside my window turned a deep, bruised purple.

At six o’clock, my mother knocked on my bedroom door. She wore her faded pink diner uniform. Her dark hair sat in a messy bun.

“I am leaving for the night shift, Raisa,” she announced. She leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her tired eyes. “There is leftover pasta in the fridge. Make sure the deadbolt is secure.”

“I will,” I said. “Have a good shift, Mom.”

She smiled, a fleeting expression of exhaustion and love. ‘Get some sleep. Don’t stay up studying all night.”

The front door clicked shut. The deadbolt engaged with a heavy thud.

I was alone.

I walked into the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I saw the pale skin, the dark hair, the uniform blouse 1 still wore. I looked like a pristine, untouched honor student. I looked like a girl who needed a bad boy to fight her battles.

Bring the girl”. We want to meet the honor student who makes you soft*.*

The Westbridge guy’s words echoed in my skull. They thought I was a vulnerability. They thought they could use my existence to break

Ryder’s focus.

Ryder believed the exact same thing. He believed caring for me made him weak. He locked me in a tower to keep the monsters at bay. He planned to walk into a warehouse full of enemies, offering himself as a sacrifice to keep the danger away from my doorstep.

Hiding in a tower meant the monsters won. It meant fear dictated our lives. It meant the contract was dead, but the cage remained intact.

I gripped the edges of the porcelain sink.

My mother worked double shifts to keep a roof over our heads. She faced exhaustion and disrespect every single day, and she never hid. I shared her blood. I refused to be a liability. I refused to let Ryder face the ghosts of his past alone in a dark warehouse. If I wanted a real relationship with him, I needed to step into his world. I needed to prove I could handle the fire without turning to ash.

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Chapter 90 A Decision Made to Prove Strength

I walked back into my bedroom. I stripped off the Crestview uniform.

:))

I pulled on a pair of faded black denim jeans. I grabbed a dark, thick sweater. I bypassed my sensible school loafers, reaching for a pair of scuffed combat boots I found at a thrift store two years ago. I laced them tight. I pulled a dark beanie over my head, hiding the pristine

sweep of my hair.

I looked in the mirror. The Crestview ghost vanished.

I grabbed my phone and my keys. I walked out the front door, locking the deadbolt behind me.

The April night felt sharp and unforgiving. The wind bit through my sweater. I walked three blocks to the public transit station. I swiped my card, stepping onto the idling bus.

The vehicle lurched forward. I sat in the back row. I watched the city shift through the smudged window glass. The manicured lawns and bright streetlamps of my neighborhood gave way to cracked pavement, flickering neon signs, and chain-link fences. The wealth of

Crestview Prep disappeared.

The transition felt like crossing a border into a foreign, hostile country.

The bus stopped at the edge of the industrial district.

I stepped off. The diesel engine roared as the bus pulled away, leaving me alone on the dark sidewalk.

The East Side smelled of exhaust fumes, damp concrete, and rusted iron. I pulled my hands into my sleeves. I kept my head down. I memorized the address printed on the black card before Ryder crushed it. The directions burned in my mind.

I walked two blocks down a deserted street. The glow of a massive fire painted the night sky in harsh strokes of orange and red. The pounding bass of heavy music vibrated through the soles of my boots.

I turned the corner.

The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead. It was a massive structure of corrugated metal and broken windows Dozens of cars and motorcycles sat parked in the overgrown lot.

A giant bonfire raged in the center of the gravel clearing. Flames licked the sky from the belly of stacked wooden pallets. The heat radiated across the lot, pushing back the cold April wind.

A crowd of teenagers surrounded the fire. They wore leather jackets, torn denim, and dark hoodies. They laughed, the harsh sounds carrying over the thumping music. This was Westbridge territory. This was the wild, untamed edge of the city

I stood in the shadows near a rusted chain link fence. My heart hammered a frantic, punishing rhythm against my ribs.

I scanned the crowd. I looked for the broad shoulders, the dark hair, the scuffed leather jacket. I did not see him yet.

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