by Jacie Lennon
“Why does it sound like only one motorcycle?” Bodhi asks, and I shake my head.
I don’t know why I trusted Drake to begin with. He’s proven time and time again that he only has his best interest at heart. I thought that this would be in his best interest, but maybe he double-crossed us.
All three of us are on edge as one lone motorcycle comes into view beside where our vehicle is sitting. A guy quickly stops it, staring at us. I can’t see much of him with the helmet on top and a bandana covering the bottom half of his face.
“What the fuck are you doing, staring at me?” he asks. “You’ve got to get out of here. It’s a setup.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask. “And why should we trust you?”
“You don’t need to know who I am. I’m a friend. I’m risking my neck to come out here and tell you that you’re being set up, so I recommend you get back in your car and get your ass out of Dodge before something worse happens to you.”
I look at Corbin and Bodhi, who wear twin expressions of confusion. The guy seems familiar, which is weird.
Maybe this is Mooney’s contact, his guy on the inside?
A sort of unspoken conversation passes between us, where we debate on how valid this guy’s claim is. On one hand, it makes sense that Drake would set us up. But on the other hand, I don’t know this guy, and what if he has a hand in whatever is going down?
My mind races as I think about the possible solutions to this situation, but time is ticking down, and I don’t have long to consider.
“We can’t go out the way we came in,” I say to no one in particular.
“I can take you out the back way, but we need to go now,” the mystery guy says, and I look at him for a moment. “It’s a hidden trail, and not a lot of people know about it.”
“Fuck, okay.” I run a hand down my face. “Bodhi, get the bags out of the back of the car,” I say as I stick my hand in my pocket and grab the keys, tossing them to Corbin. “Get in. You are driving.”
“What?” he asks, looking at me while catching the keys midair.
“Get the fuck in the driver’s seat. You are driving. Bodhi, are you done?” I yell, adrenaline taking over.
I know I have to do everything I can to get them out of here. I have to take the fall now. I know if we all leave, whoever is about to show up will follow us. Follow me. I’m the common denominator in this disaster. So, if I stay, the guys can get away, and there’s no fallout for them if they can’t be found.
Fuck, Dad is going to be pissed if this turns out bad.
I don’t want to think about what bad could mean for me.
Bodhi comes around the back, shutting the door and looking at the standoff between me and Corbin.
“What the fuck?”
“Get in. Corbin’s driving.”
“What are you doing?” Bodhi asks, hands held out from his sides.
“I’m staying here. If they have me, they won’t care to follow you two.”
“We aren’t leaving you here, dipshit,” Bodhi says, rolling his eyes and huffing. “Get your ass in the car.”
“If you boys are done yapping, we need to go.” The guy’s voice cuts into our argument.
“Go. Now. Get Mooney. He will know what needs to happen.”
“Brock—” Corbin cuts off when we hear motors again, a lot of them this time.
“Now,” I say.
Both guys climb in and look at me for a moment, and with a slap to the side of my now-dusty Levante, they take off after the lone motorcycle savior.
I reach up and lace my hands together behind my head, staring at the taillights getting smaller and smaller before the first headlight hits my back. The dust swirls around me, clogging my nose and throat, making me tear up and cough as I’m surrounded. Once I can finally see again, I am surprised to find vehicles around me instead of motorcycles.
I read the side of the SUV closest to me and then shut my eyes again with a groan. Loredo Police Department.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I snag my phone from my pocket and manage to send Bodhi a text.
Me: It’s the Loredo police.
One of the doors opens, and I groan again as a face comes into view, lit up by the interior light. Drake. Of course. He’s grinning at me, and I glare back at him.
“Oh, this is perfect. Since I planned this, I’ve been thinking about what you would look like at this moment, and it’s even better than I imagined.” His laugh rings out in the cool desert air, and I take a deep breath and calm down so that I don’t rush him and pummel him into the ground.
What the hell is he even doing with the police?
“Nothing to say?” he asks, his satisfied expression making me want to punch him in the face. “I guess everything you might say could be used against you in a court of law. Probably for the best that you don’t speak.” He jumps down, his boots thumping against the dirt as he reaches to shut the door behind him.
Several other car doors are opened, and police step out, hands on their holsters and eyes on me. I stand still though, holding my hands out. I don’t squirm or show how uneasy I feel.
I did have a hit out on me, and the way this is going, it looks like it was never lifted. Usually, the cops would be a relief in this instance, but seeing as Drake pulled his slimy carcass from inside one of their vehicles, I’m going to bet that they won’t be helping me out right now.
I watch as one officer crouches down, unzipping one of the bags and confirming what I know to be in them. Drake had me running guns for the Lions, and now, I’m going to go to jail for it. Probably prison. What a fuckin’ joke.
“Turn around,” the officer says, standing and eyeing me.
He picks both bags up and then hands them to Drake, who still has a smug smile on his face.
The cop handing the guns back over doesn’t bode well for me. I know he doesn’t care about what’s in the bags. They could have casserole in them, and he still would have arrested me because this whole precinct is dirty. They are in line with the Lions, and I’m the jackass who couldn’t see it. I thought I knew better. I’m the idiot who thought he would be easy to get rid of.
My mind flashes scenes in front of me as I turn and place my hands behind my back. I’m wondering where my boys are.
What will Dad think when he finds out? Hell, Peyton is going to be livid.
The officer roughly cuffs me, grabbing my phone from my hand and jerking on the chain to push me forward. I stumble a little and find my footing to be directed to the back door of the SUV Drake climbed out of. The thought of this asshole ever being near Peyton sends a rush of heat through my body that takes me by surprise. The heightened emotions I’m feeling toward her might be a result of my circumstances. But what’s worse is the thought of her child being his, her going back to him, slipping through my fingers and my heart.
He’s standing there, one arm braced on the open door as he extends the other arm to usher me in. The way his lips curl back in a wide smile makes his face seem even more hideous as he looks at me before leaning in and whispering, “Checkmate.”
31
Peyton
Incessant pounding on my dorm door makes me groan as I roll over. I say it’s a dorm room, but I’m almost positive they repurposed a supply closet for me to stay in; it’s that small. I must have fallen asleep while watching Netflix on the school-issued iPad since its screen is asking me if I am still watching. The knocking comes again, and I sit up. A piece of paper flutters from my lap and taps against the floor before I remember what I was holding when I fell asleep.
After Brock dropped me off at the dorm this morning, I found the envelope from the lab waiting in my mailbox. Nerves kept me from opening it right away, and I watched a few episodes of some mindless TV show before I got the courage to do it.
Now, the results of the paternity test lie on the floor, staring at me, and I bend down to scoop it up as another bang rattles the door.
“I’m coming,” I practically growl as I
pad across the floor, throwing the door open.
Bodhi’s standing on the other side, panic on his face, and he rushes inside.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and watch as he reaches up to absently tug his hair.
Then, he faces me. “Okay, don’t freak out,” he says, and I scoff.
“What about you saying that could possibly make me freak out?” I roll my eyes at his absurdity, and he pauses, cocking his head to the side.
“Right. I’m calm. I’m calm,” he repeats, making me question the validity of his statement.
“I swear, Bodhi, if you don’t tell me—”
“Brock’s been arrested. In Loredo. Fuck,” he says, pulling his hair again.
“What was he doing in Loredo? What the hell is going on?” I spit at Bodhi, and he grabs my hand, leading me out in the hallway and down a few doors before opening the door to Landry and Trixie’s room.
Corbin is inside with the girls, who are pale as they look at me.
“Can someone please explain what is going on?” I ask, throwing my hands out at my sides.
“He was trying to help you,” Corbin starts, and I pin him with a look. “I know you said you didn’t want his help, but he was doing it for you.”
“So, I’m supposed to feel bad that he blatantly did what I hadn’t wanted, and now, he’s paying the price?” I’m yelling at this point, and I can’t seem to stop.
“He had an agreement with Drake—to make a drop for the Lions in exchange for them leaving him and you alone.” Bodhi grimaces and sits down beside Trixie before leaping up like he’s been burned and coming to stand beside me.
Trixie doesn’t move, but I can see in her eyes that she’s affected. I don’t have time to think about that right now.
“A drop for what?”
“Guns,” Corbin says, and Landry glares at him.
“You boys have to be the biggest idiots that I know,” she says, and I grunt in agreement.
“Babe, I told you—” Corbin starts, but she throws up a hand.
“You barely told me anything.” Landry seethes, but I tune them out.
This is bad. This is really bad. Of all the stupid, irrational, and, did I mention, stupid things to do, Brock has outdone himself. This is the reason I told him not to fight my battles for me. If only he had told me before he was going to make stupid deals with my stupid fucking ex, then maybe I would have been able to talk him out of it.
“Stop pacing. You are going to wear a hole in the floor,” Bodhi says, standing in my path and placing both hands on my shoulders. “We will figure something out.”
“What can we do? He’s been arrested, Bodhi. He’s going to go to trial for smuggling firearms. He’s a damn idiot, and I don’t know that we can get him out of this.”
“Our dad knows the best lawyers—”
“So? Don’t think for a moment that courtroom won’t be bought off. Don’t think for one damn second that the Lions haven’t covered their bases, Bodhi. Like I said, idiot,” I mutter the last part as I sit down.
Trixie’s arm comes around my shoulders as she levels a glare at Bodhi and Corbin.
“Can we have a moment—in private?” she asks, and I watch them glance at each other before staring back at her.
“Guys, leave,” Landry pipes up as she lies back on my other side.
I’m thankful to have these girls at this moment. I need some room to breathe. Especially now that my stomach is getting larger and pushing on my lungs. The room is quiet as Corbin and Bodhi shuffle out with backward glances. No doubt wondering what we could have to talk about that doesn’t include them.
“Okay, what’s going on?” I look at Trixie for an answer, and she purses her lips.
“I might have a solution, but it’s one the guys won’t like. And you might not like it, Landry.”
“This sounds promising,” I say dryly, and Trixie grimaces.
“What do you mean?” Landry sits up, propping herself on her elbows.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know,” Trixie starts to say before pausing for a second. “That no one, besides Landry, knows.” She pins me with a look. “Promise me you will keep this between us?”
I reach up and cross an X over my heart with one finger and kiss two fingers, remembering what Bodhi did while making me a promise a while back.
“Who taught you that?” Trixie frowns at me, and I widen my eyes.
“Uh, Bodhi did it to me once. I didn’t know it meant anything,” I say, trying to figure out what kind of offensive gesture it might be.
“It doesn’t.” Trixie licks her lips and glances away. “So, I can’t go into a lot of detail, but I am, um, friendly with some of the Heywood Prep guys.”
“Heywood Prep, huh?” I try to piece together what she’s saying but come up short.
Heywood Prep is one of Almadale’s biggest rivals, and it’s strange that Trixie would be friends with anyone from there.
“Yeah, it’s a whole situation,” she says evasively. “Anyway, there’s a guy there with ties to …” She stops and takes a deep breath.
This is getting weird.
“Ties to?” I prompt and glance at Landry, who is frowning at Trixie.
“The Soltorre family,” Trixie finishes, and I gasp while Landry frowns deeper.
“The Soltorre family?” Landry asks, and I place one hand on my chest and take a deep breath in.
“No.” I shake my head, not wanting to involve myself in something like that. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.
“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” Landry sits up fully this time and slaps one hand on her knee.
Trixie and I turn our heads to look at her.
“The Soltorres are Mafia,” I say, and Landry laughs.
“Oh, good. I thought you were going to tell me they were vampires,” she says and abruptly cuts off her laughter. “Did you say Mafia? There are still Mafia people out there?”
“Yeah, right underneath your nose, apparently,” I say, and she widens her eyes.
“Is the one with ties to the Soltorres your, um … friend?” Landry asks Trixie.
It’s my turn to look confused. “Why did you say that weird?”
“You can’t tell anyone, but I’m engaged,” Trixie says.
I stare at her for a beat and then shake my head. “I’m sorry. I thought you told me you were engaged—at seventeen.”
“I did.” Trixie purses her lips.
Landry doesn’t look surprised, so I’m assuming she already knew this.
“It’s not for love or anything like that. It’s a family arrangement, and the guy goes to Heywood. That’s my connection.”
“What. The. Fuck? Trixie, you can’t be engaged right now. You aren’t even out of high school.”
“Like you can’t be pregnant right now?” She thrusts her chin out sharply. “Some of us have to grow up, right?”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Obviously, it’s not something you want.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Is that what happened to you and Bodhi?” I ask.
“Yes. But he doesn’t know.”
I lean forward, trying to appear like I understand any of this.
“But, no, my so-called fiancé isn’t the connection to the Soltorres,” Trixie says, drumming her fingers on her thighs. “It’s Connor.”
At that declaration, she turns her eyes to Landry’s, and Landry sucks in a breath. The name doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to her.
“Connor Stanson? Involved with the Mafia?” Landry leans forward, pressing her lips together as she thinks.
“He’s not technically involved yet, but I figure he will be one day. He was born into it.”
“How do you know this?” I ask.
“Because of Seth,” Trixie says, and Landry and I look at each other.
“Seth?” Landry tilts her head in question.
“My sort of fiancé,” Trixie huffs. “Try to keep up.”
“Well
, I’m sorry, but you never told me his name,” Landry says, crossing her arms.
“That doesn’t matter,” I say, waving my hands around, trying to put out this fight before it even gets started. “Tell me how this helps our current situation.”
“Who do you think is strong enough and underhanded enough to take on the Lions? The Soltorres. I was thinking we could approach Connor to see what he could do.”
“With what in return? I have nothing. Anything they could want is probably illegal or shady or even something I don’t want to do.”
“Right, but the Montgomerys have money. I’m sure Chester would try anything to get his son out from under the Lions’ hold.”
“The Soltorres no doubt have money as well. Why do you think they would want or need Chester’s money?” I ask, banking on my TV knowledge of Mafia families.
They all have money, right?
“Do we even know if Chester knows?” Landry breaks in, raising a good point.
“Brock has never mentioned his dad knowing anything to me,” I say with a shrug. “But he doesn’t tell me everything he tells his dad. I mean, we aren’t that close.”
“You aren’t? But yet you are willing to go into the clutches of evil to get him back? Seems pretty close to me.” Landry asks.
“Ugh. I don’t know. This is all so surreal.”
“Surreal or not, we have to come up with a plan—and fast.” Trixie points out.
“Okay, but you know we have to get the guys on board for this, right? There’s no way Corbin is going to let me have a meeting with Connor Stanson and think nothing of it.” Landry lies back down with a groan.
“Do we have to tell them?” I ask.
She turns, blowing out a breath. “Yes. I don’t keep secrets from Corb.”
“Except for mine, right?” Trixie nudges her.
Landry looks to Trixie. “Except for yours.”
“Let’s add mine to the list then,” I say, and both girls shake their heads.
“No, we need them with us,” Trixie says. “Not in the meeting. I don’t know that Connor would go for it with them there.”