Enforce

by Rachel Van Dyken

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Coming in second isn't winning. Newsflash! It means you're a loser.

  Chase

  I spent the weekend pissed off about everything. Every time Nixon asked me what had crawled up my ass and died, I was tempted to throw my gun at his face and charge him full speed.

  Because he knew exactly what was bothering me and was either too chicken shit to admit it or was just waiting for things to blow over.

  I wasn't that type of guy — the guy that just ignores the giant-assed elephant in the world and continues to whistle and twiddle my thumbs, while the entire world is crashing around me.

  It was Sunday.

  I should be doing homework, God knows I was going to fall behind again if I didn't, and the one thing I knew about my job was that if Nixon needed me to do his bidding, and I had to skip class, I was going to fail.

  Which sucked.

  I didn't want to fail school, because I already felt like I'd somehow failed life by not living up to the expectations of my father… and not winning the one girl who had managed to turn my head.

  "You look like hell." Tex whistled when he came into the room.

  I continued tossing the basketball into the air and rolled my eyes.

  "Seriously, you need to let off some steam?"

  "No." I tossed the basketball again and caught it with my fingertips. "Just… anxious."

  "Wanna know what I do when I'm anxious?"

  "Don't you mean who you do?"

  Tex smirked. "Don't knock it till you try it."

  "Thanks, I'll pass."

  "Shit." He slumped onto the couch next to me and pushed his reddish brown hair away from his forehead. "You really are in a dark place if screwing some random chick's brains out doesn't appeal."

  "Is that how you see me?" I caught the ball and turned. "Am I really that guy?"

  Tex's eyes narrowed. "So I'm assuming by actually putting the question out there you want me to be serious and not my normal one-liner self." He sighed and cleared his throat. "Look man, your actions don't have to define you, but yeah, you are that guy. You're the one that sleeps with girls and gives them a high five once you're finished, then forgets what they look like the next day and actually hits on the same one less than twenty-four hours later." Cursing, he jerked the ball from my hands. "Does it have to be that way? No. But that's been your cover for the past four years, and, honest moment, you've kind of gotten lost in it. I get it though. It's hard to compartmentalize with the type of life we live. You go from shooting someone between the eyes to flirting with some random chick during biology class — and it's all been for this one thing that's finally coming to us full circle. I mean, we've been busting our asses for four years, and Alfero's granddaughter just shows up at our school?" He gave his head a hard shake. "Something isn't adding up, and Nixon sure as hell isn't giving us any hints as to what's going on, but something bad's coming. I can feel it."

  I leaned back against the couch, my head pounding with all the information he'd just thrown at me. "You think we'll have to fight the Alferos, don't you?"

  "I think," Tex's eyebrows shot up. "…that if the girl you like is lounging around right now doing homework, you should find an excuse to see her."

  "Ha." I snorted. "Hilarious, and what? Find my heart outside my body once Nixon discovers I've double-crossed him?"

  "They aren't married."

  "Doesn't matter. He's staked his claim."

  "But he's boss." Tex nodded. "Remember that man. He doesn't have the same freedom we do. He doesn't get to choose who he loves. Now, who he shoots? That he can choose."

  "Which is exactly why my ass stays planted right here."

  "Fine. Don't listen to Dr. Love."

  "Please don't call yourself that."

  "I'll see ya later. Mo wants to hang out."

  "And by hang out you mean—"

  "Hold hands at skate night. What do you think I mean?" Tex threw the ball at my head.

  My arms shot up just in time to block it.

  "Stop moping."

  "Yeah." I cleared my throat. "I'll do that."

  But I didn't.

  Not two hours later.

  Not five.

  And not that evening when Nixon asked me to run a perimeter check and make sure Phoenix wasn't causing any trouble.

  At midnight, I found myself outside her dorm room, just staring up at her window like some misplaced Romeo.

  She was staring out the window.

  I wondered what consumed her thoughts. Nixon? Her grandfather? Life at Elite? I wondered if I ever crossed her mind — or if I ever would.