Novel & Cerita Certified Badass

End of Book One . BOOK TWO : THE EMANCIPATION OF A BADBOY

Even the teacher stood amazed at the sight his eyes bulging out of his head. A small smile etched upon my face as I gaze upon the so called bad boys Kristrin Slovac, Kyle Bower and the twins. Kristrin the leader as everyone calls him dressed in a black leather jacket, white t-shirt and a black denim jeans, his thick black hair styled to perfection, thick muscles prominent within his clothing and a perfectly chiseled face made him look definitely like a hot bad boy or playboy for that matter. While his best friend Kyle had a dark skin tone, very tall with a slender body that could die for he was more of a supermodel type girls drooled at him.

"This race of course! Do you know how dangerous this is?! What if something happens to you? What will your mom react?" My gaze hardens as I looked at her. "First, I know what I’m getting myself into. Second, I’ll make sure nothing happens to me." A look of disbelief etched on her features. "How can you be so sure everything will go the way you want?" "Because I’m the one who play the part and I will make sure nothing happens to me." I said coldly then left her standing with a shocked expression. Valerie Hernandez I stared at his retreating back in disbelief. This guy is insane and full of himself! I was just looking out for him and he respond me like that?

Dave and Zoe said in unison. "Those 3 guys are the founders, owners, stakeholders and whatever else kind of ownership there is of the Bad Boys Club." At this Annabel Reed's eyes came up from her book "I said no talking! " she looked at me "I heard you got into trouble at English today? You should learn to do more than drool over people who will laugh at you after pranking you and get your nose buried in your book." The poor juniors seating with us flinched at the sight of their head girl's rage but if Annabel Reed noticed it she didn't say anything about it. With her never smiling face and commanding tone my guess is she grew up in a military base.

The realization sank in slow, cold waves. So that mysterious person… the one who had saved us, or whatever the person did, had actually killed someone. Jerry continued, his tone cautious. “Whoever that shooter was… he or she isn’t just skilled—they’re deadly. That shot was clean, precise. That wasn’t luck, boss. That was experience. That’s someone who’s done it before.” I clenched my jaw. “You mean—” “I mean,” he interrupted softly, “we were dealing with a certified criminal. A professional.”