Jasper scowled. “I don’t even remember doing it. There was a rough patch with some shit at home... I was drinking a lot, among other things.”
“Well...” I wrinkled my nose and tried not to laugh at his sulking face. “You better get down on your knees and grovel. If this chick can hack a system that none of you three James Bond wannabes can hack ... then we need her. Fast. Dante’s hearing is set for this Friday.” It actually should have happened already, but Beck was using his influence to push it off as long as possible. Yesterday—which was what sparked our argument—that influence had run out.
“I know, I know,” Jasper moped. “I’m mostly pissed at myself for doing that in the first place. When she stopped flirting with me, stopped going out of her way to run into me in the halls, I figured she was just one ofthose, you know?” As he said this, he gave a subtle head jerk toward the gaggle of girls whose skirts were always too short, their shirts too tight, and their eyes permanently lingering too long on my guys. I hadn’t really interacted enough with other students in Ducis Academy to know them by name—except for Brittley, of course—but I got his point. He thought this Layla was just a social climber who wanted to tick off “fucking a Delta heir” on her list.
“It never occurred to you that you’d fucked up?” I pressed then regretted it when Jasper grimaced. Maybe he actually liked this girl more than the rest? Either way, he needed to start making amends.
Wiping all traces of teasing from my face, I reached across the table to take his hand in mine. “How can I help you, Jas? I could be a pretty great wingwoman.”
“It’s fine.” He sighed and gave me a grateful smile. “I’ll sort it out. Don’t worry, all we need is enough reasonable doubt that they drop the charges. I’m sure a whole death threats file will do that.”
My stomach twisted with worry. “I hope so.”
Under the table, Beck reached over and took my hand in his, threading our fingers together. It was a small thing, but it reminded me that we were in this together.
14
The afternoon passed quickly, and as I was exiting my last class, I spotted the bathroom and nodded my head. “Be right back,” I said to Dylan.
He just grunted, and I paused. “Dude, I’m going to need you to stop fucking grunting at me and start using your words. Clearly something is going on with you, and I’m here if you need to talk about it.”
Dylan just shook his head. “Not ready to talk about it, Riles. But I will try my best to limit the grunting.”
I sighed. “Cool with me.” Even though it really wasn’t. On instinct I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him. Hugging him tight. I loved Dylan like a brother, he was a solid friend and a loyal person, but whatever was up with him bothered me. He’d been acting weird for days. Instinct told me that I needed to get to the bottom of it before it escalated any further.
Dylan’s arms tightened around me, lifting my feet off the ground.
“Whore,” someone coughed as they passed us, but I didn’t give a fuck. They could think I was fucking all four guys as much as they wanted. Even if I was, that didn’t make me a whore—I loved the Delta heirs, every single one of their spoiled, entitled, dangerously scary asses, so it would never just be about sex.
Unfortunately, I didn’t love the other three like I loved Beck.
He was it for me; I was a fucking goner.
Dylan held on longer than I expected, and I didn’t try and break his hold. He needed this hug a whole lot, and I was here for him. When he finally let me go, I headed into the bathroom, desperate to pee. When I was done, I washed my hands and straightened up my mess of hair. It was everywhere—probably had been since Beck mauled me at lunchtime. No one was in the bathroom with me, courtesy of Dylan no doubt, and I was actually expecting it to be him when the door opened and a figure stepped inside.
It wasn’t.
It was Sami.
She met my gaze in the mirror before quickly checking every stall, and then she pulled out some sort of small devices that she ran around the room. I stood there wide-eyed, wondering what the fuck was going on, when she stopped at my side.
“Sorry for all the cloak and dagger bullshit,” she said quickly. “My father is paranoid at the best of times. And when it comes to Delta, he’s paranoid on steroids.”
I nodded quickly, because that sort of paranoia might just keep us all alive.
“You have some information for me?”
She nodded. “Yes. The body was taken care of and has been linked to another crime. The NYC police department already have it filed away and nothing should come back to you.”
I swallowed, thinking of poor Carl.
She pulled some files out of her satchel and handed them over. “He also found some stuff that he thinks might help with Dante and also with whoever killed your driver.”
I glanced at the plain yellow folder with not a single identifying mark on it. “Is this Delta stuff?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I’m just the messenger. But I got the feeling that maybe your driver had nothing to do with your company at all. Dad seemed to indicate that it might be something related to you.”
The folder seemed to burn hot under my hand.
