by B. B. Reid
“You said it yourself, right? I was in too deep, so there’s no salvation for me.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“It doesn’t make it any less true. Now answer my question.” When he raised his eyebrows in question, I asked, “Why do you think Mario trusted me with his daughter knowing you were here?”
“Anything Mario is into right now, he’s thinking he could suck you into it. He’s going to try because if someone like you isn’t with him, then you’re against him.”
“I already know he knows I’m a threat.”
“Then what are you doing dealing with him?”
“I’m selling my soul to the devil.”
Chapter Twenty
Keiran
Quentin left to pick up his foster sister from dance practice, leaving me alone with Diana. I found her in the bathroom primping for some unknown reason.
“Are you hungry?” I gruffly asked. My reluctance to be hospitable was apparent.
She turned from the mirror to face me. “Wow. For a second there I thought I would have to ask.”
It was the first word she’d spoken since seeing Q again. Talk about a fucking blast from the past. Thinking about what Mario had done and all the lies he’d told and clever tricks he had pulled resulted in a lack of patience.
“I’ll be in the kitchen. Hurry up.”
I went back downstairs and prepared some steaks before throwing them in the oven. My uncle would be home soon, and I needed to prepare myself mentally for the confrontation that was sure to come.
Diana came downstairs ten minutes later just as my uncle walked through the door.
“I don’t know what you boys have been doing around here, but shacking up with girls in my home is out of the question.”
“My, my,” Diana purred. “Now I see where you get your firm hand.”
“Shut the fuck up, Diana.” To John I said, “She’s a guest. I’m doing a favor for a friend.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and for a second, I thought I was looking at my father. I wondered if he was faced with the same problem when he looked at me. Is that why he could never look me in the eye for long?
“What friend?”
“One of the guys from the team. Her parents kicked her out, and his parents don’t have room in their house. As Captain—”
“You aren’t on the basketball team anymore so are you referring to the same team that kicked you off?”
I ignored his blatant attempt to remind me that I had screwed up. At least in his eyes I had. I didn’t care that Trevor and Anya were dead, and it was amazing anyone could expect me to be after they both set me up. It wasn’t exactly a secret after Trevor attacked Monroe in the gym bathroom. “I told him she could stay here and she will.”
I watched his jaw work. I was challenging him, and he knew it. Common sense told me to stop while I was ahead, but my anger toward him wasn’t going away anytime soon.
“I want her gone.”
“Fine. If she goes, then so do I. Have fun explaining to the authorities how you helped me become a fugitive.”
“Are you threatening me?” He took a menacing step forward, but as usual, I held my ground.
“I’m simply reminding you that after all the strings you pulled keeping me out of jail and in school, I’m sure it wouldn’t be easy to prove your innocence. I mean… why wouldn’t you help your nephew disappear? You did it before.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Diana perk up at my admission. I needed to remember to censor what I said around her. She could very well be a mole he put in place to keep eyes on me, as he was known to do with Arthur. Mario and I were cut from the same cloth, which meant we didn’t completely trust each other.
Trevor and Anya died while in Mario’s care. Even though I gifted them to him, it was with the strict instruction not to kill them. Simply disappearing was cleaner than killing them. Killing them left a body to be found, which is how I landed in jail.
Her dad had yet to explain how Trevor and Anya were murdered, and though I haven’t pushed the subject, it was always at the back of my mind. First, I had to take down Arthur and find Mitch all before my trial, which was scheduled to take place in less than two months. For that, I needed Mario, so making an enemy of him wasn’t the smartest move.
“That has nothing to do with a teenaged girl living in my home without my consent. How do I know she didn’t run away from home, and her parents aren’t looking for her?”
“Um… actually, I’m twenty so legally, I’m an adult, Daddy O.”
My patience was now completely gone.
Her throat was in my hand, and I was marching her backward out of the kitchen before John could respond. My firm hand around her neck was the only thing keeping her up and from tripping over her feet.
“Hey, hey, hey! I only like the rough stuff when I have nothing on,” she giggled. It turned into a nervous broken sound after the look I gave her, warning her not to fuck with me.
She was quickly becoming a pain in my ass along with being an inconvenience. I didn’t have time to babysit. However, after learning the things I had about Mario, maybe it was his plan.
Having his daughter in my care could have worked to my advantage, but now I wasn’t so sure of his paternal feelings for his daughter. If I never met Dash’s parents or even Monroe’s aunt, there would be nothing to convince me that good parents existed.
“You know the way to the guest bedroom and, by the way, he’s my uncle, not my father, so either you were stupid enough to come here without doing your homework or your father was just stupid enough to send you here period.”
I shoved her toward the stairs and disappeared back inside the kitchen without waiting for a response.
“I didn’t raise you to treat women like that,” my uncle barked. He was standing by the door as if to come to her rescue. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes but then I caught on to the first part of his statement.
“Raise me? Is that what you call being gone three hundred and sixty-five days out of the year?”
“Regardless of how you feel about me, you will not treat women that way.”
“Treat women like what?”
“We don’t manhandle a woman the way I just saw you do.”
“No, we threaten to take away their child.” His lips thinned out in a hard line as he glared at me. Once again, I’d backed him into a corner. He had been gone for far too long after making too many mistakes to step in and be a parent now. “Look…” I released an aggravated breath, feeling myself giving in partially. “I won’t bring trouble to your doorstep, and I can’t toss her out, so you’ll just have to trust me.” I turned on my heel and left him to mull it over.
The hallway was clear so I assumed Diana did as I ordered. I followed after her to the guest bedroom. It was next to mine so if she ever tried to sneak out, I would hear her pass. I wasn’t taking any chances.
The bedroom door was unlocked so I pushed my way in. She was centered in the middle of the bedroom, leaning back on her hands, wearing a playful expression. “It’s about time you came. I’m ready now to test out those rough edges of yours and ruffle some bed feathers if you are.”
“Just… stop. I need you to start talking. Why did your father send you here?”
“I told you—”
“I want the truth, not the rehearsed bullshit he told you to say. Q told me what happened between you two ten years ago. Is it true?”
“I don’t see why Q felt the need to tell you any of that.” Her eyes lowered with what might have actually been shame. She sat up and crossed her legs, letting her hands rest in her lap.
“He didn’t go into detail.” I had no clue why I wasted time reassuring her. I didn’t care about her feelings. I cared about what was inside her head—her knowledge, her memories… her plans. The daughter of Mario had to have a plan. I just wondered who was meant to suffer. “Just tell me what I need to know. Make this easy on yourself now because I will
get it out of you.”
Her eyes narrowed as bitter resentment shone through. “If you knew me at all, you wouldn’t waste your time on threatening me, but since you don’t, I’ll spell it out for you—I don’t care about what you can or are willing to do to me. The life I’ve lived isn’t one I will miss.”
“Then maybe we can help each other.”
“How?”
“Your father… how attached to him are you?”
* * *
I was taking a huge chance walking into this place, but after what I had learned last night, I was quickly running out of chances. I managed to turn every head when I walked in, and word would likely get out that I was here, but it was a risk worth taking.
Mario was dirtier than I’d thought, and he’d been playing me all along—right from the fucking beginning.
He toyed with my hate for the syndicate to use me as a pawn in order to take over Arthur’s organization. His plan was to either kill me or recruit me once Arthur was out of the way.
He would never get a chance to do either.
I was going to beat him, my father, and Arthur at their own game. Sooner or later, someone would have to be the victor. I just had to ensure that it would be me.
“Mr. Masters, how are you?” The detective with the thick mustache who had arrested me weeks ago greeted me as he walked into the room. Another man, who I assumed was his partner, followed, and they each took a seat in front of me.
“Can we cut the formalities? I have school in an hour.”
“Yes, that’s right… For a high school boy, you sure have your hand in a lot of jars. What can we do for you today?”
“I have information you’ll want to hear, but it comes with a price.”
“Are you here to confess.”
“Yes. I am.”
The looks on their faces were priceless.
* * *
After carefully arranging all the pieces of the puzzle, phase one of my plan was in play. I pulled into the school parking lot with twenty minutes to spare. The coach including the entire team called a meeting this morning, and for some reason, I was expected to attend.
I’d already resigned myself to never playing on the team or any college team after. College scouts were no longer interested after my status as the only suspect in a double murder went national. There was even a petition to have me removed from the school, but it never generated more than a few signatures. The murders would always hang over my head like a dark cloud.
As I stepped from the car in the mostly empty parking lot, my gaze zeroed in on a familiar form entering the school.
What the hell is Fitzgerald doing in town? Better yet… Why is he at the fucking school?
He had no family here or any real friends other than Monroe, so if he was in town, then he was no doubt here to see her. Had she called him? If she had, then Monroe had bitten off more than she could chew. Fitzgerald was a no safe zone. I didn’t know him, and I damn well didn’t trust him.
I rounded the corner to find where the shit had disappeared to, and I was nearly knocked on my ass.
Fitzgerald was pinned against the lockers by Q as they devoured each other’s lips. Fitzgerald is into men? I didn’t even know Q was into men. I’ll be damned if that didn’t explain a lot including the day Q brought him to the jail.
I still didn’t want him anywhere near Monroe. There was no give where she was involved. I realized I was being completely unreasonable and selfish, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I backpedaled around the corner and tried to erase the last thirty seconds out of my head. I wasn’t homophobic or anything, but some shit I just didn’t care to see.
If Jesse played for the other team, then that meant I could put Quentin on him, though it looked as if he might have been way ahead of me. I made a mental note to ask Q about his relationship with Jesse and why he had never mentioned it before. The last thing I needed was any more cards being dealt under the table along with my own.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lake
“Have you heard?” Willow asked as we sat down with our lunch trays at our normal table.
“Yes, unfortunately. It’s all over school that Mrs. Needleman didn’t wear a bra today and gave everyone a clear view of her nipple rings.”
I had no clue if that’s what Willow was talking about, but I prayed it didn’t have anything to do with Keiran. After he used me and discarded me like yesterday’s trash, I’d pretty much wished every bad thing in the book on him.
“Eww. Seriously, she’s like sixty with nipple piercings. Gross. I just wonder why she wouldn’t wear a bra especially since her shirt was transparent.”
“Maybe they’re new and she wanted to show them off,” I guessed. I bit into my carrot and willed my eyes from straying to the other side of the room where Keiran sat with his usual horde of elite friends. I regretted deciding to eat in the cafeteria. My determination to not let Keiran affect me was hopeless.
“Anyway, that’s not what I meant. The school and basketball coach let Keiran back on the team.”
Apparently, God was busy today.
The carrot fell from my fingertips and landed in the tray as I stared at Willow. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Besides, Mrs. Needleman’s nipple rings, it’s all anyone’s been talking about. Apparently, the school cares more about making it to the Championship this year than they care the guy is practically an axe murderer.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you have a flare for being dramatic?”
“Pffft. Have you seen the way I dress? If that doesn’t do it, then all is lost for humanity’s brains.”
“Why would they let him back on the team?”
She shrugged and bit into a chicken tender. “No one really expected him to be kicked off the team permanently. He’s the school’s golden boy. Not even a double murder could taint that.”
“This is bullshit.” I threw down my third carrot and stood up, pushing my chair back roughly and letting it scrape across the floor. Willow looked up at me and stopped mid chew.
“Where are you going?” she mumbled around a mouthful of chewed up chicken.
“I’m going to see what the hell is this school’s problem.” I moved for the door without waiting for her response. I knew she would only try to talk me out of it and tell me it wasn’t a big deal. Nothing Keiran did seemed to be a big deal.
He must have sensed something was wrong because I felt his gaze following me. Against my will, I stopped at the door and looked over my shoulder to see him watching me. There was no way he could have known what I was up to, but his gaze challenged me anyway. His lips were set in a hard line. What did he have to be angry about? He’d gotten his way once again.
Time seemed to stand still during the battle of wills as we each silently fought for power. His head lowered predatorily, and his gaze darkened in a way that was meant to strike fear. Three months ago, it would have.
I let the side of my lip curl into a smirk that rivaled his own, blew a kiss and slammed through the doors.
The sound of the doors closing echoed behind me as I headed for Coach Lyons office. In the back of my mind, I wondered if my determination for answers was because of justice or my own personal vendetta. Either way, he should have never been let back on the team. I didn’t give a damn what the law said. Not being proven guilty doesn’t make you innocent.
I made it to the other side of the school where Coach Lyon’s office was held. He was perched in his chair watching the tiny television and looking entirely too comfortable for someone who did a murderer favors. I knocked on the open door and stormed inside, not waiting for his acknowledgment or invitation. I closed the door behind me and stood in front of his desk.
He watched me calmly despite my having just invaded his space. “Coach Lyons, I need to talk to you.”
“Young lady, I should throw you out of my office. That is not the way you conduct yourself toward a member of the staff.”
Was he serious? Where was t
his guy’s autocracy during the last four years I was bullied mercilessly by his star player?
“So if I was able to dribble a ball, you would be willing to overlook it?”
“I will not tolerate—”
“Why is Keiran Masters back on the basketball team?” I demanded.
“I beg your pardon?”
“He is still being charged with the murder of two students. One of them played for your team. Did you forget that?”
“Of course, I haven’t forgotten, Miss Monroe, but what I do with my team is none of your concern.”
The man was a royal ass.
“The safety of the students should be your concern. You would sacrifice that for a championship?”
“He was allowed back into the school, which means he wasn’t considered a threat. You have no business coming into my office and demanding answers from me, you little bitch. I don’t answer to a child. Now get it out!” he bellowed. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on his chin as his face turned beet red.
Just as I was about to respond, Keiran’s deep voice sounded low from the door. “Monroe.”
My gaze flew to his tall form darkening the doorway. He wore a blank mask, but even so, I could sense the angry vibes emanating from his presence.
I knew he likely heard every word I had said and knew what I had tried to do. I actually started to feel guilty until I noticed his gaze wasn’t trained on me. He was staring down the coach who now sat back in his chair with a worried expression.
“Why did you follow me?” I asked accusingly.
“Wait for me outside.”
“I’m busy here.” I turned my head dismissively. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here, but I stubbornly wanted to do it on my own terms.
“Do you really want me to touch you right now?” He spoke the words softly, but the threat had an even worse effect than if he had screamed them at me. Why was he so calm? I had just tried to get him kicked off the team so why hadn’t he lashed out?