Devil Incarnate (Boys of Preston Prep #4) - Angel Lawson Page 0,192

a video of us out there. Use that, if you want it so bad.”

“You really are dumb as a sack of rocks, aren’t you?” Gene’s eyes bug out. “Her family already knows about that video, you imbecile! How am I supposed to blackmail them with something that’s already as good as public? It’s called leverage, Wilcox!”

Pulling a face, I reach up to flick at a bit of spittle that’s landed on my nose. “I don’t know. Why don’t I ask one of them?” I turn to my accomplice, arching an eyebrow. “Thoughts, George?”

He gives a nod down at his phone. “Yep, got it.” He raises the screen, giving it a wiggle. “That whole thing is floating around the cloud, as we speak.”

Clouds.

So much better than hard-copies.

George would be scared if he had half the sense to realize Gene has kneecapped men for less. As it is, he just looks irritated. “My dad could bring a lot of attention down here, you know.”

“He could,” I agree, turning to Gene. “Or you could just let me walk away.” I toss the bag on the table, giving it a nod. “There’s your fifty large. Half the insurance payout. That’s as square as I’m ever going to get.” The insurance money had actually been a bit higher, but Gene doesn’t need to know that.

George raises his chin. “And you better leave my fucking sister alone. The second I hear of anything fishy, this recording is going straight to my father’s people.”

Gene takes a break from glaring murderously at George to bark at me, “Have you forgotten the part where I have all the dirt on you?”

“I haven’t.” Shrugging, I gesture to George. “But I don’t think he cares.”

George sweeps a long, disdainful look over me. “Yeah, I can’t fucking stand this guy. I don’t care if he gets busted for anything. Be my guest or whatever.”

“You’re bluffing,” Gene scoffs, taking a step back.

“Him?” I point at George, giving him a skeptical look. “Look at him. He’s a pampered little pissant. This kid’s never had to bluff a day in his life.”

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?”

George huffs, reaching up to scratch beneath his beanie. Some of his bright orange hair falls out. “Not really, I guess.”

Turning to Gene, I say, “Find someone else to leech off of. I’m out.”

I’m coiled up tight as we leave, half expecting one of his minions to stop us. I don’t breathe until we’re in the car, and even then, my hands are slightly less than steady when I jam the key into the ignition and speed away.

There’s no way of knowing if it’ll actually work, but even if it doesn’t, at least now I know.

Gene really had left that flash drive in Underworld.

Collins’ office is really swank.

For the right headmaster, someone could really do this place up nice. Replace the curtains. Bring in a mini-fridge and a wide screen. The little devil head on his desk is pretty cool, though. I pick it up, testing the weight in my hand. It’s crystal, I think. Heavy.

Kicking my feet up on his desk, I toss it from hand-to-hand, waiting.

It’s been three days since I dumped my fifty grand on Gene and skedaddled. I’ve been lucky not to hear anything from him, but maybe he’s smarter than he looks. I might be a complete fucking mess, but I’m young. I can go rounds with him, if that’s what he wants.

I doubt he does, though. That’s the thing with people like Collins and Gene. They act all high and mighty, but at the end of the day, they’re aging out of their gigs. Neither of them can match me for stamina.

Collins’ face when he walks is priceless. He looks at me, face going red. “Get out of my chair!”

I toss the devil into the air, effortlessly catching it. “Not before we have a little chat.”

Nose flaring with an inhale, he reaches behind him to slam the door. “How did you get in here?”

“Your receptionist fucking loves me.” Leaning back, I luxuriate in the plush leather upholstery. The chair has a really smooth swivel to it, too. “I figured, since today is your deadline, I’d show some initiative. Come to you with everything I’ve found out.”

At this, he looks a little less inclined to jump over the desk and throttle me. He places his briefcase on the floor, takes a seat, and orders, “Talk.”

“It’s kind of funny, actually.” The devil bobs from hand to hand and his eyes follow it, narrowing as his gaze pings back