Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,166

next is a plaintive, desperate confession that I might come to regret later.

“I need you.”

She pushes me away, and I go without fighting, rolling to collapse at her side. I don’t move when she rises to her feet, her motions slow and achingly deliberate. She smooths down her skirt and reaches for her bag, slinging it carefully over a shoulder.

She stops when her hand touches the knob of the door, turning only enough to give me a glimpse of her bland expression. “Ozzy thinks the video isn’t secure,” she says, voice rough and lifeless.

Long after she’s gone, I still stare at the door, breathing in the acute awareness of all the empty space she’s left behind.

Finding Big Gene at three in the morning is easier said than done, but I sure as fuck try. Driving around the derelict side of Northridge is an exercise in futility, so I hit all the obvious places first; the fights, the races, the poker games in the back of a bar that has no visible business name. Everywhere I turn up, I draw an audience. People excited at the prospect of my money, eager to take a bet, egging me on when I just walk away.

It’d be beyond difficult even without the money burning a hole in my pocket. I almost think of calling Warren, but I don’t think I can handle looking him in the eye, considering the shit’s that gone down.

I find Gene at a dice game going down at a dealer’s warehouse. The space is smoky and dimly lit, hard to make out faces. But I’d know that big, round, balding head anywhere. He’s standing in the back, watching with his shark eyes as he sucks on a cheap cigar.

The cigar bobs between his lips with a laugh when he sees me. “Off the wagon, Wilcox?” His attention is only half on me, the other half laser focused on the game going down. If I had the presence of mind to care about anything else, I’d wonder what he’s got riding on it.

As it is, I lean against the wall at his side and pitch my voice low. “I need to buy the flash drive back.”

He laughs again, although I don’t miss the way his eyes go tight. “Sure thing. How much you got?”

I shove my hand into my pocket, fingering the stack of money. “Six.”

“Six what?” He throws me an amused look. “Unless the words ‘gold bullion’ are about to come out of your mouth, then you can fuck off. You’re distracting me.”

“Cut the shit,” I say, running out of patience. “Name your price.”

He hums, watching as a skinny guy rolls a pair of dice. “It’ll cost you seven hundred.”

“Grand?!” I growl, turning to him. “That’s bullshit!”

“That’s business,” he says, cutting me a hard look.

I fume silently for a long moment, already knowing how this song and dance goes. That’s the issue with Gene. It’s just like Warren said. It’ll never be enough. To get out of debt, I’ll just go into even more debt. On and on, tried and true.

“You need to break the cycle.”

Crossing my arms, I nod to the frenzy happening. “Maybe I’ll just call the cops and get this whole thing busted up. After that, I can tip them off to the races. The fights. The poker games.” My voice is low and full of warning when I conclude, “I can make ‘business’ very fucking difficult for you.”

“You’re trying to extort me?” Gene actually takes the cigar out of his mouth to laugh at that one. “You’re bringing a knife to an H-bomb fight, sonny. Ah, god, it slays me.” He grabs his side, wheezing with laughter. “I can’t wait to tell Dirty about this. He’ll piss himself.”

I scowl at him, feeling ragged and wrung out and not in the fucking mood. “Gene, I swear to fucking god—”

“Swear to whatever you want,” he replies, popping the cigar back between his lips. He gives it to strong puffs. “The flash drive’s in your possession. You just don’t know it yet.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re not the only one who can make calls.” He looks away from the game long enough to give me a stony-faced smirk. “For instance, I can call the cops and tell them this pal of mine—good fellow, but currently on probation—has been sharing around this video. Grotesque thing. Absolutely unconscionable, poor girl. And the flash drive with that video is currently hidden on the premises of this