kids up here stick to the basics — shrooms, ecstasy, molly, pot. Whatever’s floating around the party scene.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot. “If I can create demand for the more intense product… get fentanyl flowing freely in these circles… I think it’ll be enough to clear my debts.”
My brows furrow. “So you’re going to deal for them? Get a whole generation of my classmates hooked on drugs that will ruin their futures? Sign them up for a lifetime of misery and pain, just to save your own skin?” I can’t keep the utter disdain out of my voice. “Jesus, Jaxon. You’ve made some questionable decisions in the past, but I thought you at least had a moral compass. This is… beyond awful. Even for you.”
“It’s either deal for them or pay them off! And I don’t know about you, Archer, but I don’t have that kind of capital.” His eyes move toward Cormorant House, lingering on the glass panes of the back door. “There’s only one person I know who might.”
“So that’s why you went after Jo tonight. You think you can extort money from her? Somehow convince her parents to pay off your debts?”
“No! No. It was just pure chance, seeing her at the party tonight. I was catching up with a few old friends, smoking a little weed… She was with some Ken Doll douchebag who wasn’t taking no for an answer, if you know what I mean. I stepped in. Made sure he got the message, loud and clear.”
“Snyder,” I hiss under my breath, seeing red.
He’s a dead man.
I struggle to rein in my emotions.
“You should be thanking me, not yelling at me,” Jaxon prattles on, his words running together. “If I hadn’t been there, things might’ve gone very differently for Josephine.”
I take a step toward him. “I think I’ll save the appreciation parade for after you tell me what you’ve done with her.”
“Who says I did something to her?”
“Past experience.”
Jaxon looks even more jittery than before. He’s a hairsbreadth away from a full-fledged breakdown. “I told you before — I helped her tonight! I saved her! I’m the good guy here, Archer.”
Maybe he’s telling the truth.
Maybe not.
I can’t bring myself to care. An all-consuming rage is rising inside me, blotting out every other emotion. For the first time in my life, I understand the term blind rage. My anger has sharpened to such an extreme, the rest of the world is blurry in comparison.
“Oh, spare me,” I snarl. “You’re no saint. You saw an opportunity and you took it.”
Jax fidgets. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do.” I take a step into his path, forcing him to meet my eyes. “Tell me — did you think you could kidnap her? Hold her for a hefty ransom?” I tilt my head. “Or did you plan to hand her directly over to the Kings and let them do the dirty work for you?”
“No…” he says weakly. “That’s not true…”
“As long as your scorecard is clear, who cares what they do to her, right?” I take another step, my every atom vibrating with rage. “Even if they kill her…”
He flinches.
“Torture her…”
He flinches again.
“Rape her…”
And another.
“That’s just collateral damage, right? A justifiable cost of your freedom.”
“No, Archer!” Jaxon’s voice breaks on my name. “You’ve got it all twisted. I wasn’t going to hurt Jo. I’d never give her to them. I just… I thought maybe she could get the cash for me. The Valentines have more money than Zuckerberg! Fifty grand is pocket change to people like that.”
Before I’m conscious of moving, I’ve crossed the terrace, grabbed him by the throat, and pinned him up against the stone wall. Leaning forward, I bring my face within an inch of his. My grip around his throat tightens until he’s gasping for air.
“You will never touch Josephine Valentine again,” I say, each word crystallizing in the night. “Do you understand me?”
Jaxon wheezes something indecipherable. The whites of his eyes flash with panic.
“Sorry, what was that?” My brows lift. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
“Won’t—touch—her,” he gasps. “Swear.”
“Good. I’m glad we’ve got that settled.”
The instant I release him, he doubles over, desperately sucking oxygen into his lungs. When he’s breathing normally again, he looks up at me with an expression that’s almost smug.
“Seems I’m not the only Reyes who can’t control his temper,” he rasps. “Maybe you’re more like me than you thought, little brother.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“Is that so?”
With effort, I get ahold of myself, tamping down