“I can’t wait to knock that smug smile off your face.”
“I hope you’re the patient type, because that won’t be happening any time soon.” I put my face in hers. “Like ever.” I push her back. “And I’m no fucking princess. I’m the goddamn queen.”
She barks out a laugh. “I’ll enjoy taking you down.”
“Bitch, you come near me and the only one getting taken down is you.”
“They won’t protect you forever.”
I fling my bag over my shoulder. “Who said anything about their protection?” I arch a brow. “I don’t need any guy to protect me. I’m more than capable of defending myself. Come at me, and you’ll find out the hard way.”
I ditch school ten minutes before the bell rings so that I can get away without any of the assholes following me.
Pulling into the gas station on the outskirts of Prestwick fifteen minutes later, I park around the back.
Dar is already there, leaning against the side of his truck with his hands in his pockets. I secure the large brown envelope in my backpack and climb out, following Dar around to the shaded side of the building. This is quite a popular meeting spot in Prestwick whenever anyone is up to anything shady because there are no cameras, it’s surrounded by wide open fields, and the owner turns a blind eye to the illegal comings and goings.
“Here.” I hand him the envelope.
He frowns. “What’s this?”
“Information which will get one of your guys out of jail.”
He stares at me for a second before opening the envelope and pulling the papers out. He skims them quickly, before resealing them, folding the envelope in half, and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans. “This is helpful.”
I scoff. “It’s more than helpful, and you know it.”
“Diego will be pleased. He’s been trying to extract Alfred for the past year, but it’s not what I asked for.”
“I can’t pull the location of the warehouse out of thin air!” I hiss. “They’re giving me nothing on the cameras, and they have some blocking software installed on their cars, which means the trackers I planted aren’t working.” I pull my jacket around my body as a gust of wind batters us from behind. “I’m getting closer to them, and I’m confident I’ll get the intel. I just need more time.”
“I don’thavemore time.” He weaves his hands through his hair. “My graduation to the senior chapter depends on me finding that warehouse and destroying their supplies. It’s the only way The Arrows will gain control of Prestwick Academy and start winning the lion’s share of the business on the street.”
“It’s not their most closely guarded secret for nothing,” I supply. “If it was easy to figure out where they’re storing their supplies, then someone would have hit it before. I will get the information. It’ll just take a little longer.”
He grabs my ponytail. “How do I know you’re not lying to me?”
I punch him in the stomach, and he lets me go. “You don’t. You’ve just got to trust I hate them as much as you do.”
“But do you?” he asks, rubbing his stomach and glaring at me. “Rumors are circulating, baby. Saint’s put the word out you’re under his protection. The Sainthood only does that for wives or girlfriends.”
I didn’t know he did that. I roll my eyes. “We’re going to be family. I’m sure the protection extends to stepsisters too.”
He straightens up, scrubbing a hand along his stubbly jawline. “Johnny was in touch. Checking I vouched for you. I told him to hold off setting up that new meet until he gets my approval.”
Anger blooms in my gut. “You have no fucking right to do that!”
He steps into my face, sneering. “I have every right to do that. You’ll get your meeting when I get the location of the warehouse. And you’ll get your new IDs once I’ve blown their supplies to kingdom come.” He grabs hold of my ass, reeling me in close to his body. “A deal’s a deal, sweetheart.”
I knee him in the balls. “Fuck you. I gave that motherfucker a five grand down payment. If you screw this up for me, you’ll be sorry.”
“Ditto, sweetheart. Fuck with The Arrows and see if you live to tell the tale.”
CHAPTER 25
“DO YOU HAVEplans this weekend?” Mom asks me Thursday night when we’re all around the dinner table.
“I do now,” I reply, shoveling a forkful of mashed potato in my mouth.
