and that confident grin was still on his face as he propelled himself off the side of the car and started walking towards us. The other students gave him a wide berth, shooting them nervous looks. Then three more men converged with him, coming out of nowhere, each of them looking just as terrifying. One of them was easily over six feet tall and had arm muscles thicker than my thighs, which was saying something considering I was a gymnast.
“Why are they here?” I whispered as we grew closer.
Before any of my guys could answer, O’Banion spoke. “Godfrey Taylor. How are you?”
Thankfully, none of the other students stopped to gawk. It was a good thing that Bonham ran the rumor mill in Savannah, or the whispers would be out of control and people might try to butt in.
“I’d be better if you stopped showing up at Smith Academy,” Godfrey replied. He looked pissed as he adjusted the dark aviators on his face, pushing them up the bridge of his nose while wearing a scowl.
“Now where’s the fun in that?” O’Banion replied. “We were wonderin’ how you were doin.’ For about four hours yesterday, one of our guys lost eyes on you.” My eyes flicked over to the three men standing behind O’Banion, and I wondered if these were the men that trailed us. “You’re not plannin’ on doing anything stupid, are you?”
“If we were, you’d be in jail already,” Rogue growled.
“I don’t respond well to threats, kid.”
“You don’t run shit, O’Banion, and don’t try to pretend otherwise,” Luis spat, making the southern mobster glare at him.
By now, the entire student body had disappeared into their expensive cars and were already leaving the parking lot. Only a few cars belonging to faculty remained. One of O’Banion’s lackeys grabbed a metal baton from his pocket and expanded it. He clutched it in his palm before swinging at Rogue’s driver side window, making the glass shatter on impact.
“Johnny Jack is done waitin’,” O’Banion said, as the lackey moved to the rear passenger side and smashed that window, too. Rogue kept an expressionless look on his face, but his arm tensed beneath my hands. The man let out a steroid-sounding huff as glass fell on top of his black boots.
“I don’t like being threatened,” Rogue answered evenly.
“This?” the guy chuckled, looking over his shoulder. “This ain’t a threat, kid. This is us tellin’ you, Johnny Jack is done playin’ nice. Y’all need to hand over the photos. Tonight. Or your girl here, your mamas, and every fuckin’ bitch in this prep school of yours here will be gone come Monday mornin.’ And that’s a fuckin’ promise, kid.”
One of the other men made a move like he was going to punch Godfrey, laughing when he flinched. I saw the change in him immediately, knowing that he was regressing to the state his father put him in when he became abusive. His shoulders slumped, his eyes went to the ground, and he looked immediately defeated. Rogue stepped in front of him, now shielding both me and Godfrey. The gesture made my heart squeeze.
O’Banion and his buddies chuckled. “Just a bunch of rich kids playin’ at the big boys game,” he said, as the four of them started to walk backwards to their car. “Tonight, Rich Kids. Or I’ll make sure I get this one first,” he threatened, pointing to me. “I’ll play with her nice and long before I sell her to the highest bidder. I’m sure the boss could fetch a real pretty price for her.”
Rogue growled and went to move forward, but I yanked on his arm to hold him back. The four men got into their SUV and pealed out of the parking lot, leaving us alone.
A panicky breath shook out of my chest, realizing that the danger was closing in on us.
Bonham shook out his hands, which had been curled into fists. “What do you want to do?” he asked, looking at Rogue.
It struck me right then how terrible it must be sometimes to carry all the weight. Rogue was their leader, for all intents and purposes, and that meant that he had to make the tough decisions and shoulder the responsibility. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes. Not now, when it was a matter of life and death.
Rogue ran his hands through his dark hair, pulling at the strands in frustration. “We set up the meeting. Tonight. Johnny Jack’s men aren’t going to wait, and I won’t risk her,”