When we’d attended Vani’s party, I’d looked around at the college grounds. They were well guarded. Men with weapons, cameras, drones, and security lightingabounded. But those grounds were massive, and it’s difficult to keep every single inch of a large perimeter tight and secure.
If he hasn’t headed back to the college to hide out and wait, where could he have gone? I don’t buy that he shot at Camile because she wouldn’t fuck him. Not because I can’t imagine a man doing that; sadly, I can. Images flash into my mind of women mutilated and raped during war, and I blink twice to get rid of them.
Men do awful things all the damn time. It just seems really fucking stupid to shoot at a fellow student when you’re a new kid wanting to do well at the prestigious, secretive college… unless that’s not what you are at all.
Unless… the reason you’re there is precisely to get the girl.
Engine revving, I look up and down the length of road, then spin the bike around. I can head back to the compound this way. Once there, I’ll find one of the gang, Cryptic, so called because he’s obsessed with those weird crosswords where the clues make no sense, and ask him to help me hack into any nearby cameras.
The bike’s tires eat this stretch of road. I look up at the lights by the side and am relieved to see the occasional camera. So at least we know this patch of road has them.
I decide to take the scenic route back. I turn off the road by the southwest side of the compound and drive up a small, gravel path to where a tall, heavy gate is locked by a padlock. I park the bike and stride to the gate, where I put in the combination to open the padlock. I walk my bike through then close the gate and reattach the heavy lock.
The winking light of the cameras mounted on thegate catch my eye, and I flip the bird at them and chuckle to myself. A couple of guys monitor the security system at a time, and most of us have to take the odd turn. There’s a room with a huge bank of monitors, and we can easily switch between cameras at any point to see what we want to. All recordings are kept for a few days before being wiped to make room for new ones. It means we can always go back and review the footage if needed.
Back on my bike, I drive over the grass and head toward the brow of the hill. As I veer around a group of thick, low hedges and a few tall, willowy trees, I slow and stop the bike. Over to my right, about one hundred yards away, is what looks like Camile and Rook, and a group of other guys.
I squint, trying to make out what it is I’m seeing.
One of the guys pushes Rook, and he staggers back. Camile’s high-pitched, alarmed shout tells me all I need to know.
Gunning my engine, I roar over the crest of the hill and ride fast to where they are.
As I come to a stop a good few feet away, skidding slightly to one side, I realize it’s Eddy, Duke, and Paulie. Three fucking idiots we call the Numbnuts. I think they’re cousins, and they’re probably the kind who marry too closely in their family.
Camile is shouting at one of them, and he’s laughing as he makes a grab for her.
“Get the fuck off her,” Rook shouts.
My feet pound the ground toward them. I take it all in, and fury fills my veins.
Eddy has Camile in a hold, his hands around her waist, as he half lifts her off the ground. He puts her feet back down, but only because he’s realized someone elsehas joined the fray. He whips his head around, sees me, and pauses.
“Ghost. What’s up?”
“Let her go.” My voice is calm. Deceptively so.
“Sure.” He obeys immediately.
“We were only winding Rook up.” Duke sticks his tongue out at Rook. “You got your panties in a real wad,Rookie.”
“Yeah, were you jealous?” Paulie asks Rook. “Wish it was you we’d got our hands on? I hear you like that.”
I have no fucking clue what he’s alluding to but guess it’s something to do with the hazing ceremony Rook had to take part in before we’d allow him to become a prospect. That shit holds no interest for me. I can’t stand it. It’s far too close to bullying, and honestly, I find it kind of pathetic. But it’s tradition and some argue it lets you know who the real ones are. The ones who will do anything for their brothers and the club.
“Which one of you fucking knuckleheads thought it would be a good idea to put hands on the woman who is here under Jack’s protection?” I cross my arms over my chest and stare at all three in turn.
“It wasn’t like that,” Duke protests.
“It was exactly like that from where I’m standing.”
“Listen—” Paulie starts.
“No. Shut the fuck up. Go right back to the clubhouse now. Get some coffee down your necks. You stink of booze, and I’m hoping it’s from last night, not this morning. Then go wait in the back office.”
“You’re not the Prez.” Duke sets his jaw at me, and I clench and flex my fingers, weighing up punching his lights out.
There’s a lady present, though, so I restrain myself.
