The next day at lunch, I watched from across the bustling cafeteria as the token bad boy of Dayton sank to his stool, glaring at me. Anger bubbled beneath my skin. Not because I’d been fired, but for the simple fact that he’d had the audacity to get me fired.
Nora unwrapped her sandwich, then lifted a brow as she nodded across the lunchroom. “So, I’m guessing that hasn’t gotten any better?”
“Define better? He got me fired for “dealing weed at Franks”.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Diane, one of Nora’s friends, shoved a forkful of wilted lettuce into her mouth before turning to stare at them. “I heard that...”
“What the...” I threw up my hands. “Do I look like the kind of person who deals weed?”
“I mean,” Nora shrugged, “what does someone who deals weed look like anyway?”
“Them, Nora.” I nodded toward the guys. “It looks like them…” Tattoos and piercings and a dangerous edge that was far too enticing.
“Shit…” Nora mumbled. “You made eye contact, Diane. You whore.”
Bellamy pushed up from their table and approached ours, jaw set as he skirted around the corner, then behind me. The intoxicating scent of his cologne swirled around me seconds before his hands landed on my shoulders and warm breath touched my neck.
“Gotta problem?” His rough voice dragged over me like a lover’s caress, sending a bolt of adrenaline straight through my chest. There was something wrong with me.
“You know I do.” I twisted on the stool to meet his smirk.
He leaned over, gripping the table behind me and caging me in with his arms. “Do tell, baby girl…”
I hated him for getting me fired, and I hated this ridiculous reaction my body had to him. “You’re an asshole. You got me fired.”
“To be fair, I did tell you not to mess with me.” The slight tilt of his head was annoyingly sexy.
“I wasn’t selling weed,” I said, but I’d sure as hell make him regret not doing his research.
“Right…” He huffed a laugh. “Just like you’re twenty-one and your name’s Genevieve, huh?”
Like he gave a shit about my name. Of course, the decision to hook up with a stranger was biting me in the ass. Why wouldn’t it? Everything else in my life was a shitshow.
He stroked a finger over my cheek. “Know what I think, Drucella Morgan? That you’re a really bad liar.”
“You know what I think?” I did not need to find this guy exciting. Or rise to his challenge. But I did. “That I’m about to be the worst thing to happen to you, pretty boy.”
Without warning, his hand clamped down on the back of my neck, and with one simple tug, he brought my lips mere centimeters from his. “Try me, baby girl. Try me…”
I found it hard to pull away from him, and the moment I did, I missed the force of his grip.
“See you later, Drew.” He patted my cheek—hard—like the condescending prick he was, then he cut back through the cafeteria of students focused on me. Screw him and his perfect face.
I turned back to my tray, and Diane and Nora gaped at me.
“Holy. Shit,” Diane breathed. “That was, like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I grabbed my sandwich and picked off the browned lettuce. “He’s an asshole,” I mumbled.
An asshole. And a problem.
One I needed to quit and intended to—in monumental fashion.
7
Bellamy
Music thumped through a busted stereo in some run-down house on the outskirts of Dayton. A couple of the girls had stripped down to their bras and panties, while guys pounded back cheap beer. And what was I doing? Typing out a text to Drew.
Me: So, what was it you were planning to do, baby girl? Use your daddy to get me blocked from Ivy League schools?
Baby Girl: A magician never reveals her secrets...
I fought a smile.
Me: Just so you know, I’m really fucking scared.
“Bell!” Hendrix shouted from across the crowded room, grinning like an idiot while he pointed at Betty Newman, topless and dry-humping the arm of the couch. “Guess who's plundering booty tonight?” The guy was an idiot… and for some reason, the girls lined up for it.
I drained the rest of my soda, checked my watch, then pushed up from the couch. Mom left for her second shift at work in an hour, which meant I had to have my ass back so my little brother wouldn’t be alone with my shithead dad. Hendrix rounded the corner, his arm around Betty, who still had her tits out.
“Hell no, man.” I grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him away. “I don’t have time for your dick to go on a conquest. I’ve gotta be home to watch Arlo.”
Hendrix shot a smile to the girl waiting by the stairwell. “The way she blows on that tuba, I can be done in five minutes flat, Bell...Come on.”
There was no arguing with him. He was like a dog with its dick out, which meant I was wasting time. If I had to leave him, I had to leave him. “I’m going to my car, and If you’re not out there by eleven thirty-three, I’m leaving your ass.”
Hendrix glanced at his crotch. “Your time has come, my little warrior. We’re walking the plank and diving straight into a brown star tonight.” Then he made a beeline to topless Betty waiting by the stairs. Unbelievable.
My phone buzzed.
Baby Girl: You’ll see.
Typing out a response, I wove my way through the party, past a kid puking in a potted plant.
Me: Can’t wait. XX
Drew was cute, like a kitten attempting to sharpen its claws on my jeans. My bet was she would try to spread a rumor that I had a small dick or try to turn the Barrington football team against me—which had been done years ago, but why would she know that?
I made it halfway through the overgrown yard before a patrol car stopped at the drive. The kids loitering outside fled like cockroaches, dropping their beers and shouting Five-O before they hurtled themselves over chain-link fences. Amateurs.
I shook my head and kept walking. I hadn’t drunk a drop, and having a dad who was an ex-cop, I knew the police couldn’t do anything without probable cause.
The vehicle squealed to a stop, the flashing lights bouncing off my car as Officer Bivens climbed out. Followed by dickhead Jacobs who’d arrested Zepp.
“‘Sup fuckwads,” I mumbled.
Bivens frowned, slipping his thumbs through the belt loops on his uniform. “That silver Civic yours, West?” Bivens had been on the task force with my dad. He knew damn well the car in front of him was mine.
“Why?”
“We’re gonna need you to open it.” Jacobs grinned.
I threw a smirk back at the arrogant bastard, flipping my keys in my hand. “Got a warrant?”
“No.”
“Then fuck off. I have to go home to watch my brother.”
Another patrol car marked K-9 Unit pulled up and blocked the drive. A sinking feeling settled low in my stomach when a sniffer dog hopped out of the back, tugging on its leash as it headed straight for my car. Then lost its shit, pawing and barking.
“And I’d call that probable cause.” Jacobs held out his hand.