she sees him, reshaping into a grin. He reaches out and teasingly tugs a strand of red hair. It’s a quick flick, not drawn out enough to be overt, but too obvious to be missed. When she swings her hair back, his eyes go to the hickey on her neck, flicking away just as fast.
Yeah, he’s feeling it out, alright.
They’re right to be suspicious. I mean, who is this fucking kid? Suddenly he shows up and is best friends with the girl I happen to be fucking, embraced by the only three remaining Devils—the very group his father is obsessively trying to bury? Oh, and he also just happens to be available to take Georgia to the ball, at the very club I’m not allowed to step foot in.
How fucking convenient is all of that?
I’m considering how much fallout would happen with Collins if a sudden, haphazard, hand-breaking incident befell his son when I see Caroline glance up from her book. Her eyes narrow at Georgia and Ozzy, cheeks turning pink before she averts her gaze. Georgia doesn’t miss this, a flash of something stiff and cheerless crossing her face. She takes a firm step back from Ozzy, and he lets her, pushing his hands into his pockets.
Ah yes, play it cool, Oswald. Respectful distance. Read her cues. No pressure.
You’re never going to get into her pants like that.
Just then, Mr. Sward calls out, and the students file onto the bus. I turn my back and walk away before anyone sees me—or more likely, before I see Georgia and her date again.
“Fuck it,” I determine, crossing campus toward the teacher’s parking lot. If I’m late for class, then at least I’ll have a full stomach. Before I even get off the sidewalk, I see the yellow swirl of flashing lights on the top of a tow truck. “Sucks to be you,” I mutter, cutting between the cars.
And then I skid to a stop.
Dewey and Buster are standing next to the tow truck, and it’s my fucking Escalade hitched up to the back.
“Hey!” I shout, zig-zagging through the vehicles. “What the hell are you doing? Get that shit off my car!”
Dewey throws up a palm, stopping me. “Your car is being repossessed, Wilcox. Don’t cause a—”
I snatch the paper from his hand. “Repossessed?! It was a gift! A graduation gift. You can’t repossess a gift!”
Dewey sighs, giving me a grave nod. “I know you’re upset, but it’s best if you just hand over the keys.” He holds out his hand, waiting. Bile rises in my throat—fiery, cutting, rage-fueled bile.
I swallow it back and say, “I need to call my father.”
The look of pity Dewey gives me makes me want to puke. Dewey pitying me? Turning my back on him, I whip out my phone and search the contacts, having to scroll up and down three times because my thumb’s all fucking jerky. My dad’s phone goes straight to voicemail, which is expected. I don’t bother leaving him one, instead opting to call his office.
Dewey, Buster, and the repo guy are all standing around awkwardly, annoyed that I’m holding shit up, but too pussy to do anything about it.
“Jane!” I try to control my voice, taking a deep breath. “This is Heston. I really need to talk to my dad.”
She hums. “I’m sorry, Heston. Mr. Wilcox isn’t in right now. Would you like to leave a message?”
I crush the phone in my grip, biting back a curse. “Where is he?”
She smoothly replies, “He’s in an urgent meeting. I can take a message.”
Jane has been my father’s secretary since the dawn of time. When I was a kid, she used to be responsible for buying my birthday presents. When I was a teenager, she helped me get my driver’s license since my dad was out of town and my mom was having one of her episodes. She’s known me long enough to understand what being cut off means.
And now she’s talking to me like I’m a stranger.
“I don’t want to leave a message, Jane. I want to speak to my dad. Right fucking now.”
Click.
“Fuck.” I take a tight, paced lap around an empty parking space. “Fuck!”
Dewey sighs behind me, a hand coming down on my shoulder. “Heston—just give the man the keys, okay? Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
I laugh darkly. “Yeah, because that’s something I’d do.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my key ring with the fob. Turning, I dangle it in the air, letting them