I shrug, trying not to get her stirred up. “Could be anything, really.”
A few more hushed words are spoken before Knox starts to grow angry. He levels Grayson with a look and tosses a final comment over his shoulder as he walks away. I watch as he crosses the street and gets into a car with one of his friends. Meanwhile, Grayson gets ahold of himself and comes back over to us.
“Everything okay?” Savannah questions hesitantly.
He smiles. “Yeah, everything’s great. So, hibachi?”
And just like that, the two of them leave the situation behind us. I, on the other hand, can’t seem to keep thoughts of Knox Vaughn from flooding my brain.
3
KNOX
Friday comes quicker than I had hoped, but I guess that’s what happens when you dread something as much as this. The fight on Wednesday only helped release a fraction of my anger and frustration. However, half of the five hundred dollars I won was spent on some high-quality weed, and that helped a lot more.
I’m standing behind the school, watching as the guys fuck around with a hacky sack, when an irritating brunette comes around the corner. In an instant, Easton stops what he’s doing and pulls her against him, kissing her deeply. She giggles against his mouth as he grabs her ass.
“Either get a damn room or stop practically fucking in front of me. I’m getting hard over here,” I tell them.
The two of them laugh, and Tessa takes a step back. “Nice to see you, too, Knoxie.”
My eyes narrow. “Call me that shit again. I fucking dare you.”
She doesn’t seem the least bit afraid, which means she’s getting entirely way too comfortable around me. Still, Zayn notices that I’m only half kidding and pulls the attention off me.
“You coming to the party tonight, Tess?”
Taking a hit off Easton’s cigarette, she nods before exhaling. “Yeah, and I’m bringing my sister.”
Surprise overtakes my features as my brows raise. “You have a sister?”
“A twin,” she clarifies, and my eyes rake over her body—wondering what qualities of theirs are the same. Tessa notices my expression and rolls her eyes. “Don’t get any ideas. You don’t have a chance in hell.”
I chuckle. “CBP, have you met me?”
“Are you ever going to tell me what the hell that nickname means?” Her tone reveals her frustration until she shakes it off. “Never mind. But seriously, Laney isn’t that kind of girl.”
“Laney? What the fuck kind of name is that?”
“It’s short for Delaney. I’m sure you’ll meet her later, but no messing with her. She’s my favorite.”
I raise three fingers in the air. “Scout’s honor.”
Zayn snorts as the rest of the guys try to hide their amusement. It’s no secret that I’m full of shit. If I want to fuck with her precious sister, I’ll do whatever I damn well please. Orders from my friend’s fuck buddy are not something I obey.
I’M WALKING TO MY locker after third period when I spot someone leaning against it. Her back is to me, but I’d recognize that ass anywhere. I consider walking in the other direction until she turns around and her gaze meets mine. She smiles brightly and slips her phone into her back pocket.
“Hey, babe,” she greets me.
“Hailey,” I deadpan. “What are you doing here?”
Confusion graces her face. “Going to school?”
Immediately, I shake my head. “Cut the shit. I mean what are you doing at my locker?”
“I’ve missed you.” She reaches out to grab my hand but I pull it away before she can latch on.
“You mean Jason dumped your ass and now you’re crawling back.”
Hailey Waterman is toxic—the sludge from the bottom of a fucking barrel kind of mess—and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a girlfriend. I don’t do commitments by any means, and most girls don’t seem to understand that. Therefore, when I hook up, it’s a one and done kind of deal. Hailey, however, is the exception to that rule. We’ve messed around on and off since freshman year.
Every time she starts to develop feelings, she pulls some crazy shit to try to get me to make promises I know I won’t keep. So far, she has lied about being pregnant, dated guys in an attempt to make me jealous, and tried to have me jumped so she could nurse me back to health. This chick makes psychotic little Tessa look like an angel.
“Oh, come on.” Her pleading voice goes right through me. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m not being like anything, Hails. I just don’t have time for your bullshit.”
With that, I push my way past her and straight out the side door. I need a fucking smoke.
WAITING OUTSIDE THE LIQUOR store for Grayson to pick me up is a harsh reminder that I should start saving money to buy a car. I could have borrowed Stone’s or even Zayn’s, but they both would have asked way too many questions. This is something I need to take care of without them. The less people who know about this, the fucking better.
Relief washes over me as I hear the engine of Grayson’s overpriced sports car approach. The asshole may have a false sense of reality about the shit we’re in, but at least he came.
“Thank God. I thought you were going to pussy out on me,” I tell him as soon as I get in the passenger seat.
He scoffs. “Fuck you.”
“As I’ve told you before, you’re pretty but I don’t swing that way.”
It’s been all of five seconds and I can already feel the tension in the air. The two of us know what we’re driving into, but neither of us know what will become of it. It’s like there’s a flashing red sign saying to turn around and run, but we have no choice. They’ll kill us both without flinching.
I put the address into his GPS and stare out the window, hoping to hell I make it out of this alive—unlike Craig.
“What the fuck did you do?” I shout, looking between Grayson and the now-motionless body lying on the ground. “Hayworth!”
He doesn’t answer me. His eyes don’t even look in my direction. They stay completely trained and focused, watching blood pool. I don’t need to check for a pulse to know there is no more life in Mr. Montgomery. He’s dead. He’s dead, and I’m in the middle of the crime scene.
“I had to protect her,” Grayson mutters.
Looking at him as if he’s gone crazy, I grab him by the shoulders and force his gaze to meet mine. “Yeah? And how the fuck are you going to do that from prison, tough guy?”
As if in shock, he takes a few steps away and sits down, staring up at the night sky. What’s scary is that he doesn’t even seem remorseful or even the slightest bit panicked. It’s like he knew what he needed to do, and he did it. Simple as that.
I know I should leave. Go somewhere to calm down and figure out how we’re going to play this off in the morning. It’s not like he was a good guy by any means. They’ll probably assume it was a drug deal gone wrong or some shit. But as I go to walk away, a flashing red light catches my eye. A fucking camera, and it’s got us both. He’s committed a murder, and I’m an accomplice to it. We’re either going to go away for years, or be on the run for life—either way, we’re both screwed. Fucking Grayson.