Never His Girl (Kings of Cypress Prep #2) - Rachel Jonas Page 0,67
go ahead. I have something to take care of.”
Sterling assumes wrong. I know as much when his brow quirks suggestively. “Oh, yeah? Making another trip to South Cypress tonight?”
“Actually, you’re not wrong,” I answer, wondering how much I should say.
“You gonna leave us hanging or what?” Joss asks with a grin. Her nosey ass is dying on the other side of the table, waiting for me to say more.
My gaze flashes toward Southside for only a second, before shifting back to Joss and the guys.
“I reached out to Ricky,” I admit.
Dane shoots me a stern look. “Alone? You fucking crazy?”
“I can handle myself,” I remind him. “Besides, it’s not gonna be a rematch or anything. He and I just need to have a talk.”
“About…?” Joss pops a brow when asking.
“Just some shit we need to clear up,” is all I say.
Sterling’s shaking his head profusely before I even finish speaking. “You’re not going alone.”
“It’s already happening. Relax,” I say back.
They’re all quiet after that and I get why they’re concerned, seeing as how the last encounter I had with the guy ended with us both bleeding, but I’m focused now. Then, I was still raw with frustration over Southside, but with things leveling off, my head is much clearer.
Still don’t like the guy, but I’ll be cool.
“How’d you get his number?” Dane chimes in. “Last time you mentioned it, you weren’t sure how to find him.”
I bite into my burger, pretending not to hear his question.
“Gonna answer me, asshole?” he presses.
I’d probably just come out with it if Joss wasn’t sitting here, but she’ll definitely have an opinion, and won’t hesitate to share it.
Peering up, all three are staring and I know they won’t let it go.
Rolling my eyes, I mumble a response. “Got it from Southside’s phone.”
“You went through her phone?” Joss screeches way too loudly.
“Would you shut the fuck up?” I glance around to make sure no one heard that. “And, no, I didn’t go through her phone. He called the morning after I slept over, when Southside stepped out of her room to deal with some family shit. I noticed it was him and copied his number down.”
Joss is staring, expressionless. “You honestly think that’s better?”
“What the hell was I supposed to do? The guy’s like a fucking ghost! I saw a chance and took it.”
Eventually, she averts the death stare and goes back to eating her lunch.
“What’re you hoping to accomplish?” Dane asks.
I resist the urge to shrug, which would let them know I don’t really have a clear-cut plan.
“It’s just a conversation,” I answer.
Honestly, I just want to talk to the guy, find out what he knows, and see if my dad’s as grimy as I’m beginning to believe.
“Well, I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t tell you what a shit idea I think this is,” Sterling adds. “But I know you’re stubborn as hell and won’t change your mind.”
“Nope,” I say back, sipping my soda.
“At least meet him someplace public,” Joss adds. “Lots and lots of witnesses.”
I laugh a little. “Yes, mother.”
The remark earns me an expected snarl from her.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure them.
And, for the most part, I believe that.
Chapter 25
WEST
As far as public spaces go, I don’t think this is quite what Joss had in mind. Ricky said to meet him at the pier near the shipping dock around seven-thirty, so I’m here. Waiting, glancing over my shoulder every so often because this place is sketchy as hell.
He’s late, and with it already dark, I’m starting to think this wasn’t such a great idea coming alone. Then, I hear an engine off in the distance. It’s not a motorcycle, like I expect, but I’m pretty sure it’s him.
Either that, or this was a trap and my ass is about to get smoked.
The windows are blacked out, but I keep my eyes trained on the dark-blue, vintage mustang that has me salivating. The rims alone had to have set someone back several thousand, but it was worth it. Even I’ll attest to that.
The engine dies and the driver’s side door opens. Ricky steps out and if he were anyone else, I’d give him his props on the car, but nope. I hate this piece of shit too much for that. It’s not lost on me, though, that in addition to having Southside in common, we both clearly have a thing for old-school muscle cars.
He trudges closer with both hands in his pockets, taking unhurried steps in my direction as he glares.