by Eva Ashwood
I stand in front of the mirror for a moment longer, forcing myself to smile and adjusting the expression on my face to make it look more natural. It takes a bit of work, but after a few tries, I think the only person who would notice I still look exhausted and sad underneath it all is Scarlett or someone I’m really close to. Hopefully, the guys don’t know me quite that well yet.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I go to my dresser and rummage around inside, looking for something to change into. I went to meet Scarlett in jeans and a t-shirt, but that isn’t going to work for what I have planned now.
I don’t want to be too overtly sexy, nothing obvious that screams “seduction” or whatever. Just something a little provocative, something to draw their eyes and keep their attention.
In the end, I settle on going for comfort and appeal all in one. I take off my bra and put on a tank top, one that’s just old enough that it’s a little worn and gives a good view of the fullness of my tits and the outlines of my nipples. For my bottom half, I pull on the shorts I usually sleep in. They’re soft, cotton, and black, but most importantly, they’re tiny.
It looks like I’m just dressed down for bed, which is appropriate for the time of day, but when I look in the mirror again, I know the outfit is a winner. I look sexy, but I also don’t look like I’m trying to look that way.
With one last glance at myself, I take a deep breath, square my shoulders, and head back downstairs.
Of course, Sloan is the first one I run into. He’s sitting on the couch again, this time without his laptop, and he glances up at me and then away, but double-takes to look back when he notices what I’m wearing.
I pretend not to be aware of it, but I can see out of the corner of my eye the way he notices me. His gaze rakes over my entire frame from head to toe in a slow wave, and I can feel my body reacting to the heat in his eyes. My nipples peak, going hard and tight, and I know that it must be at least a little noticeable through the thin material of my top.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I ask, settling onto a large easy chair and tucking my legs beneath me.
Sloan’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
I purse my lips, digging deep to come up with the easy sass I usually address him with. It feels false as hell, but it actually sounds pretty good when I speak. “Jesus. Can’t I ask you a simple fucking question without you turning into a grumpy asshole? I was just wondering.”
“I’m not sure,” he says shortly.
I scoff. “Very helpful. Thanks.”
His jaw clenches, and although I can tell he’s studiously trying to ignore me, his gaze flicks in my direction again, landing on my cleavage before shifting away. “If I knew why you were asking, maybe I could be a bit more helpful.”
Leaning my elbows on the arm rest, I cock my head at him. “Do you like street racing?”
“What is this, twenty fucking questions?”
I smile sweetly at him, crossing my arms in a way that I know pushes my cleavage up a little bit, making it even more noticeable. “No. I’m just asking because there’s a race going on this weekend.” I shrug. “I was thinking about going.”
Levi and Rory come walking in from the kitchen as I’m talking, and I glance their way, inviting them into this conversation too. I’m glad they’re here, actually. It’s a hell of a lot easier to talk to them than it is to talk to Sloan, and it’ll probably be easier to convince them, too.
“You were, were you?” Sloan asks, snorting a little under his breath. He sounds put out that I’m not asking permission or whatever, but I ignore that.
“Yeah. I mean, you guys can come too, I guess.” I roll my eyes the way I would have before, back when I was always pissed off about them following me around everywhere. “If that will make you ease off so I can actually fucking go.”
It’s like when I wanted to go to that club with Scarlett, and I had to invite them to come along just so they’d let me out of the damned house. I make the almost-pout convincing, laying it on thick to sell it.
“Sounds like a good time,” Rory says, leaning on the back of the couch, right in Sloan’s personal space.
Sloan turns his head to glare at his friend, either for his words or the invasion of his personal space or both. It’s always hard to tell with this asshole what exactly is pissing him off. The list seems endless.
“Oh, yeah? Does it?” Sloan mutters.
Rory, in true Rory fashion, just grins. “Yeah. It’d be nice to get out of the house and do something fun, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Levi glances from me to Sloan. “It’s just a race. It’ll be a good time. Shit’s been intense lately, so a night of blowing off steam couldn’t hurt.”
I can tell their enthusiasm isn’t what Sloan was hoping for. I’m sure he wanted them to back him up and be as big of a fucking downer as he is. He glances at me again, narrowing his eyes a little. He’s wavering, trying to decide if it’s a good idea or not, but he seems on the fence about it.
I keep my cool, looking neutral.
“You know,” Rory says, sliding a glance my way with a slow grin. “I was going to say I didn’t take you for a racing kind of girl, but now that I think about it, I’m not even a little bit surprised that you like things fast and dangerous. That has you written all over it.”
I roll my eyes at him and then stick my tongue out. “You don’t know what I like,” I say, letting things feel sassy and flirtatious the way they’ve always been between us.
He gives me a slow once-over, lifting an eyebrow. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”
He grins, and I’m proud of how normal it all seems to be. This is how we’ve been since I got here, and none of them seem to be able to tell it’s an act now. Rory’s been flirtier than ever since our encounter in my bedroom, and there’s something new behind it—more intensity and heat than before.
“Fine.” Sloan finally relents with a sigh. “We’ll all go.”
I shrug a shoulder like I don’t really care either way, but inside I’m burning with triumph.
The pain of my father’s death is still sharp and fresh, but I’ve managed to push past it, to bottle it up and shove it down where the guys won’t be able to see it on my face. I’ve built a fresh mask for myself to wear, and I’ve played the opening move in my new game.
First, I’ll win these men’s trust. Then I’ll fucking wreck them.
7
The next day, I’m finishing up some homework assignments when my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I glance over, prepared to ignore it, but then grab it when I see it’s Scarlett calling me.
I’m keeping my end of the promise not to close her out, and I’m also hoping she has some good news for me.
“Hey.” I press the phone to my ear. “What’s up?”
“I think I found someone who can help you,” she says, getting straight to the point. “I have a friend of a friend who knows someone in the Jackals.”
“Really?” I ask, sitting up straighter. “Already?”
Scarlett’s usually the type to spend a little bit of time shooting the shit, teasing me or asking about my day before delving into serious matters, so clearly she called me as soon as she found the information I needed her to.
“Yeah. You made it sound like it was important to get it done quick, so I did that. Asked around in the old neighborhood. I still keep in touch with some of those people. Anyway, they got me in contact with some guy named Paul. He’s been in the Jackals for a bit now, but he’s fairly low level. That’s the best I could do. I don’t think the higher-ups are easy to get ahold of. Or at least, I don’t know anyone who knows them.”
“That’s okay,” I tell her quickly. It’s better than I was hoping for, and a lot quicker. “It’s someone, and that’s good enough.”
I can practically hear her smiling in relief over the phone. “That’s what I was thinking,” she says. “He seemed pretty interested when I talked to him. Probab
ly hoping this will be his chance to move up in the ranks or something. You know, that the people at the top will reward him for getting useful insider info on a rival gang. On their biggest rival, at that.”
I nod along because it’s a very good point. Maybe this Paul guy will be easier to convince to help if he thinks there’s something in it for him, too. Then it’ll be more like us helping each other than just him helping me.
“Thanks, Scar. That’s perfect. Hey, can you hold on a second?”
She hums in agreement, and I get up from the bed and move to my door. I had it cracked a bit while I was doing homework, and I peer out to make sure none of the guys are in the hall, lingering.
The hallway is quiet, and I can just hear Rory laughing downstairs, so I figure the coast is clear enough. But I shut my door all the same.
The last thing I want is for them to overhear me plotting to bring them down.
“Okay,” I murmur, lowering my voice a little just in case as I rest my back against the door. “Have this Paul guy meet me on campus tomorrow. He can sneak into my Sociology 101 class since it’s the biggest one. No one will notice someone else sitting in. I’ll sit at the back, and he’ll blend right in with the rest of us. Professor Delane doesn’t give a shit, so he won’t even notice.”
“Sure, I’ll pass the message along.” Scarlett hesitates, and the silence on the phone stretches out for a moment. Then she lets out a soft sigh. “Mercy… promise me you’ll be careful? I know I say that all the time now, but… this is pretty big, you know?”
“I know.”
And I really do. My best friend has wanted me to be careful ever since I told her I was effectively kidnapped by Sloan, Rory, and Levi in the first place. She joked about them being hot and about me being in a reverse harem or whatever, but underneath all that, she’s always been worried about my safety more than anything else.
Before, I wasn’t sure she had good reason to be. I figured I was useful to the Black Roses, since my being held as collateral guaranteed that my dad would try to do whatever they asked of him. I assumed that those circumstances would keep me fairly well protected, no matter how dangerous the gang is.
Now? I know better.
“I mean it,” Scarlett presses, as if she’s read my thoughts. “You’re playing with fire now. The bad blood between the Jackals and the Black Roses runs deep as hell. Everyone in Fairview Heights is scared of both gangs, and if you start some shit between them, you could get caught in the crossfire.”
“I know,” I say again, because I’ve considered everything she’s saying. I just refuse to let it stop me.
Scarlett makes a frustrated noise and then sighs. “Okay. Just… I know this is important to you, and I know things have been peaceful between them for a while, but this shit is serious. If you get caught, it could break bad. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
In a way, it’s nice to have her saying things like that. I’ve been feeling so alone in the world since Dad was killed, but it’s a good reminder that I’m not completely on my own. I have Scarlett—my best friend who gives several shits about what could happen to me and wants me to be safe. For her, I’ll do my best not to wind up dead by the end of all this.
“I’ll be careful.” I rest my head against the solid wood of the door. “I promise. I won’t take any more risks than are strictly necessary.”
“Yeah. What worries me is what you might decide is necessary,” she mutters under her breath, but I can tell she’s half teasing. At least, I think she is.
I meant what I said, though. It wasn’t just bullshit; I’m not going to be overly reckless.
I don’t want to go down with the Black Roses, but I’m willing to do what it takes to make sure they burn for what they did. The need for vengeance burns in my chest, and I’m already thinking ahead to tomorrow and my meeting with Paul.
“Anything exciting happening today?” Levi asks as he escorts me to my second class of the day. I’ve gotten pretty used to him being around, and I give him a look as we pass by a cluster of students on the quad.
“Oh yeah,” I reply dryly, arching a brow at him. I’m getting better at slipping into the role I’m supposed to be playing, and it’s always a lot easier to banter and joke with him or Rory than with Sloan. “I’m so ready for another super exciting day of learning. Can’t wait for a pop quiz or a lecture on the Cold War or something.”
He snorts and shrugs one muscled shoulder. “I don’t know, there could be something you’re super into. Maybe you secretly get off on pop quizzes and essay questions. How would I know?”
I roll my eyes at him and shake my head. He’s teasing in that way that’s meant to make me laugh, and I give in and allow a chuckle to fall from my lips, more to keep things feeling natural than because I think it’s funny.
I try extra hard to keep everything feeling light and relaxed as the day goes on, finishing up in my second class of the day and then meeting Levi outside so he can take me across campus to my third class.
Sociology. Where I’m meeting Paul.
As we walk side by side, Levi talks about some show he and Rory were watching last night, but I’m only half listening as we get closer to the building the class is in.
Will Paul even show up? Will Levi somehow figure out what I’m doing?
My heart races as my mind replays Scarlett’s warning to be careful on repeat. I’m being as cautious as I can, finding a way to meet Paul where hopefully none of the guys will ever find out about it.
Getting worked up with worry isn’t going to help anything though, and I try to take a deep breath to calm my nerves without being obvious about it. I laugh at something Levi says about Rory and force my brain away from the negative thoughts.
It’ll be fine. And either way, I have to do this. I’m this close now, and I’m not going to let the fear of getting caught make me doubt my plan. It’s the best path to vengeance I’ve got, and I have to follow it.
When we reach the building, Levi gives me a little chin lift and a small wave, and I walk inside and head to the classroom. It’s a 101 class, so the room is pretty big to accommodate the large number of students.
I bypass the middle section where I usually sit and head for the back. There’s a guy I don’t recognize already sitting there, and my heart thunders as I take the seat beside him. He’s got dark hair, and he’s dressed like a standard college student, in jeans and a hoodie. Still, he seems out of place for the class, and while I don’t know everyone in the class by face, I can tell he’s not here to learn about sociology.
While the rest of the class fills up and Professor Delane moves to the front to begin the lecture, I pull out a piece of paper and start scribbling a note down to pass to Paul.
I can get you information on the Black Roses, I write, if you’re willing to pay for it.
I don’t really care about the money, to be honest. Money can’t fix this. It can’t bring my father back from the dead. But I can’t tell him what I really want or why I want it, and I have a feeling Paul will be suspicious if I try to make it seem like I don’t want anything. So this is the next best thing I can come up with.
Money works just as well as revenge as motivation, really. People are always willing to sell each other out for a quick buck.
One of his eyebrows lifts as he reads the note. Then he writes something himself and passes the paper to me.
What info do you have?
I drum my fingers on the desk, glancing up at the professor for a second to make it seem like I’m paying attention and taking notes before I write out my reply. I don’t have anything yet, but I’ll get it.
How? He sends back, and I can see that he looks a little skeptical.
I’ll get something good, I write. I know some people.
That’s not giving anything away, really. Considering how powerful and influential the Black Roses and the Jackals are in this town, plenty of people know someone who’s either in one of the two gangs or is close to someone in one of the
two gangs. Growing up where I did, some of the people I went to school with probably ended up in one gang or the other. It’s just the way things are.
Paul reads the note when I pass it back to him, and he doesn’t immediately start writing a response. He looks up at the professor, who’s droning on about something I can’t even pretend I’m listening to.
The dark-haired guy seems like he’s thinking it over, and I bite my lip, holding my breath to see what his response will be. If he doesn’t want to make a deal, then I’m not sure what the next step will be. I’ll have to find someone else who will, I guess, but that will take time.
I don’t know if Scarlett knows anyone else, and it’s not like I have a lot of time to search for more Jackals who might be willing to help me when I’m being flanked at every turn by three members of the Black Roses.
My heart thuds against my ribs, and I chew my lip so hard I nearly break the skin.
I need this to work.
I need this to be a worthwhile risk to take, so I can do what I need to do and put it all to rest. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to move on.
Finally, the piece of paper comes back across my desk. Okay. If you get some useful stuff, then I promise you’ll get paid. Only if it’s useful shit, though. Here’s my number. Call me if you get something.
Relief crashes over me, and I finally let out the breath I’ve been holding. I take the note and fold it up in eighths, then shove it into my school bag. That’s the first step done. The contact has been made, and he’s agreed to work with me.
Before, that seemed like it would be the hardest part. But now I have to actually get some information for him, and that’s going to be tricky at best.
I stare blindly up toward the front of the room for the rest of the lecture, coming up with plans and then discarding them as quickly. I have to be careful with what I do, but I can’t afford to let this opportunity pass me by. Who knows how long Paul will wait for information before deciding he’s tired of dealing with me.
Once class is over, I get up and out of my chair before Paul can move, falling in with the flow of students leaving the building.