Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,97

her lead even with the slight tremble in her fingers, and Lips murmurs quietly, “Remember what I said. He's effectively neutered. Don't engage with him.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

I glance at Harley but he’s staring back at me like I’ll have some answers in this mess.

Are we ever going to be in on this shit? Are we ever going to know what the fuck is going on around us or are Lips and Avery just going to set fire to our shit whenever the mood strikes them and we’ll just constantly be sitting around looking like fucking dickheads?

Ash snarls at Lips, clearly just as pissed as Harley and I are about being left in the dark about this shit, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

There’s no time for Lips to reply though because Joey arrives, slamming his palms onto the table in front of her so hard everything on the table rattles.

Silence falls over the dining hall.

The freshmen sitting around us start scrambling to get their shit together and flee, not that I blame them. He really is a fucking monster, and he’s proved over and over again just how little he gives a fuck about assaulting and maiming people. He’s lost his shit, his eyes are manic as they dart around each of us and there’s no doubt that he’s in withdrawal. I’ve only seen him this bad once before and he almost killed two juniors in a fit of rage.

Great.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he spits at her, and I pick a knife up as well. I guess Harley isn’t the only person going down for Joey’s murder today.

Lips doesn’t look worried, not for a second.

Instead, she slowly sets down her own knife and fork, crossing her arms over her chest like she has all the time in the world. She looks him up and down slowly before she speaks, her words even and calm and utterly fucking cutthroat.

“Let me tell you how this is going to go from here onwards, Joseph. You will not speak to me, your siblings, your cousin, or Morrison. You will not speak about us. You won't plot, or scheme, or belittle. You will not raise a hand. You’re going to pretend we don't exist. If you come across one of us in the halls you will avert your gaze and walk the fuck away. Am I clear?”

Oh, she’s about to die.

Ash tenses, ready to jump up and throw himself at Joey the second his brother flies at her and kills the little Mounty girl except…

He doesn’t.

Joseph Beaumont Jr. just stands there, his chest heaving like he’s about to fucking scream or puke or something, and even though his eyes are darting around the room like he’s looking for an exit, he doesn’t so much as flinch in her direction.

What the fuck is happening here?

“The Jackal sends his regards,” Lips says in that same even tone like this is all so fucking boring to her, and then she picks her fork back up and digs back into her food.

My eyes meet Ash’s but he’s still sitting there, shocked but ready to act the second Joey does. Avery is like a statue, barely breathing, but after another beat she picks up her cutlery again and follows the Mounty’s lead.

The whole room is silent.

Then Joey roars and turns on his heel, shoving a couple of juniors on his way out and whispers start up all around us.

“What the fuck just happened?” The words fall out of me, and Lips blinks up at me, glancing around the table at each of us like she’s shocked we’re showing her so much interest… as though she hasn’t just achieved the impossible right here in the fucking dining hall. Avery looks smugly around at us as well, grinning at Lips like she’s in love with her.

That makes four of us.

Lips pulls herself up a little straighter and then just lays out the facts. “Joey likes three things. I couldn't touch his money—that will take more time than we have. I couldn't kill him without risking Ash. That left his addiction.”

I can barely believe the words coming out of her mouth. “Holy shit. You cut him off. You cut him off?!”

“There isn’t a dealer in the state that will sell to him now,” she says as she looks me dead in the eye like some fucking badass Mounty kid we’ve all been underestimating, and I fall completely over the fucking ledge in love