Pretty Reckless (All Saints High #1) - L.J. Shen Page 0,109

happening in this lifetime.”

“Mel, can you give us a moment?” Jaime asks, his eyes still hard on me. She stands up and waves her hand as she saunters upstairs.

“Boys will be boys.”

When she is out of earshot, Jaime snaps his fingers to get my attention.

“Ever heard about the game Defy?”

I elevate an eyebrow. I’m not in the right mental state to think about anything that’s not Daria or the game tomorrow. It’ll be a pretty shit move to lose to save Daria’s skin, but I will fuck over the entire world to protect her.

“The All Saints High tradition? Yeah. Why?” That shit died before I was even in middle school. They stopped playing it over a decade ago.

He stands up, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “I’m pulling the game out of retirement one last time.”

I sit back and laugh.

“You don’t have to defy me. You can just kick my ass. I’d probably do the same.”

“Not yours. I can’t resent your puppy love even though thinking about your busted knuckles on my daughter’s skin makes me want to punch you.”

“Who are you fighting, then?” I ask, but then it comes to me. Clear as day.

Of course.

“Gabe Prichard,” we say in unison.

“He quit last week. Packing up and getting ready to bolt before we get to him,” Jaime explains.

“When is this happening?” I ask.

“Today.”

“I’m coming with.”

Heavy is the fist that belongs to a father who just learned his precious daughter has been mentally abused since age fourteen by her school principal.

Heavier is the fist of a man who learned about it after his daughter has been through hell and back this year.

I’m a take-no-prisoners type of man.

When I aim—it’s for the kill.

Prichard’s got a house on the outskirts of Todos Santos. The only light from the distance is the one of his Alfa Romeo. Otherwise, it’s pitch black as we turn onto the dirt road, me leading the way in my Tesla and Vicious’ Mercedes following closely. Trent Rexroth, my high school friend, is next to me, and Penn Scully—bless his broken fucking heart—is in the back seat, looking ruthlessly determined with dead eyes like the rest of us. Vicious and Dean signal us with the lights to stop. I throw the vehicle into park and twist around.

“You wait here.”

“No fucking way. He hurt her,” Penn spits out, his fists already balled. Gabe losing his job is not enough for me. Not by a long shot. I want him to lose everything else, too, including his ability to sit down for the next couple of years.

“You can get into trouble,” I warn him, but my heart’s not in it. If someone hurt Mel, I’d probably kill them, too.

“Oh, and you can’t?”

Trent’s shoulders shake with a conceited laugh next to me.

“Why?” Penn challenges.

“Prichard’s got too much to lose. He can’t touch us.”

“Can anyone?” Penn wonders aloud, just as Trent’s door opens from the other side. Dean whistles for him to get outside, swinging my baseball bat and parking it over his shoulder.

“Maybe God,” I answer curtly.

“Even that’s debatable.” Dean snickers. “God, I missed the days of good ole shenanigans. Out, Rexroth. Lover boy.” He whistles to Penn. “Make sure you’re good and quiet unless you want your football dream to flush down the toilet.”

Prichard, who is oblivious to our parked vehicles a mere few feet from him because our lights are off, comes out of his house, flinging two suitcases into the trunk of his running car. I get out of the car and round it with Vicious, Dean, and Trent following close by.

Every muscle and bone in my body is lit and hot with adrenaline as I tap his shoulder from behind. His body turns rigid, hard like stone. He turns around, and his face whitens, his car lights illuminating the fear on his ugly-ass face.

“Good evening, Mr. Prichard.” I smile like the fucking royalty I am in this town. Too important to touch, too golden to lose control. Dean swings the baseball bat behind me as though he is warming up.

Prichard is shaking his head violently.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I’ve already talked to your wife. We settled things. We…”

“You didn’t settle anything with me,” I clip. Mel told me what she did after she did it, and although I wanted to kill her, I could understand where she was coming from, too. “Us letting you off the hook is only because we don’t want Daria to suffer.” I erase the distance between us, smiling devilishly. My eyes are

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