Confusion graces her face. “Going to school?”
Immediately, I shake my head. “Cut the shit. I mean what are you doing at my locker?”
“I’ve missed you.” She reaches out to grab my hand but I pull it away before she can latch on.
“You mean Jason dumped your ass and now you’re crawling back.”
Hailey Waterman is toxic—the sludge from the bottom of a fucking barrel kind of mess—and the closest thing I’ve ever had to a girlfriend. I don’t do commitments by any means, and most girls don’t seem to understand that. Therefore, when I hook up, it’s a one and done kind of deal. Hailey, however, is the exception to that rule. We’ve messed around on and off since freshman year.
Every time she starts to develop feelings, she pulls some crazy shit to try to get me to make promises I know I won’t keep. So far, she has lied about being pregnant, dated guys in an attempt to make me jealous, and tried to have me jumped so she could nurse me back to health. This chick makes psychotic little Tessa look like an angel.
“Oh, come on.” Her pleading voice goes right through me. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m not being like anything, Hails. I just don’t have time for your bullshit.”
With that, I push my way past her and straight out the side door. I need a fucking smoke.
WAITING OUTSIDE THE LIQUOR store for Grayson to pick me up is a harsh reminder that I should start saving money to buy a car. I could have borrowed Stone’s or even Zayn’s, but they both would have asked way too many questions. This is something I need to take care of without them. The less people who know about this, the fucking better.
Relief washes over me as I hear the engine of Grayson’s overpriced sports car approach. The asshole may have a false sense of reality about the shit we’re in, but at least he came.
“Thank God. I thought you were going to pussy out on me,” I tell him as soon as I get in the passenger seat.
He scoffs. “Fuck you.”
“As I’ve told you before, you’re pretty but I don’t swing that way.”
It’s been all of five seconds and I can already feel the tension in the air. The two of us know what we’re driving into, but neither of us know what will become of it. It’s like there’s a flashing red sign saying to turn around and run, but we have no choice. They’ll kill us both without flinching.
I put the address into his GPS and stare out the window, hoping to hell I make it out of this alive—unlike Craig.
“What the fuck did you do?” I shout, looking between Grayson and the now-motionless body lying on the ground. “Hayworth!”
He doesn’t answer me. His eyes don’t even look in my direction. They stay completely trained and focused, watching blood pool. I don’t need to check for a pulse to know there is no more life in Mr. Montgomery. He’s dead. He’s dead, and I’m in the middle of the crime scene.
“I had to protect her,” Grayson mutters.
Looking at him as if he’s gone crazy, I grab him by the shoulders and force his gaze to meet mine. “Yeah? And how the fuck are you going to do that from prison, tough guy?”
As if in shock, he takes a few steps away and sits down, staring up at the night sky. What’s scary is that he doesn’t even seem remorseful or even the slightest bit panicked. It’s like he knew what he needed to do, and he did it. Simple as that.
I know I should leave. Go somewhere to calm down and figure out how we’re going to play this off in the morning. It’s not like he was a good guy by any means. They’ll probably assume it was a drug deal gone wrong or some shit. But as I go to walk away, a flashing red light catches my eye. A fucking camera, and it’s got us both. He’s committed a murder, and I’m an accomplice to it. We’re either going to go away for years, or be on the run for life—either way, we’re both screwed. Fucking Grayson.
Taking out my phone, I scroll to the one contact I had hoped I’d never have to call. It’s dangerous, and bound to eventually leave us worse off than we are now, but it’s my only option. I reluctantly hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Yeah?” the man answers.
“It’s Vaughn. I’m going to need your help. It’s urgent.”
WE PULL UP BEHIND the seedy dive-bar, where a black Town Car already waits for us. Four men stand around, and there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that all of them are armed. That’s why they chose this place—it’s vacant enough for them to dispose of us with ease if needed.
“Let me do the talking,” I tell him. “You have a tendency to say and do the wrong fucking shit.”
Thankfully, he seems to finally understand the severity of the situation and keeps his mouth shut as we get out of the car. I nod at the men and stand at the front of the car. Grayson comes up beside me, his hands clasped behind his back. Being as I sent him away when everything went down, this is the first time he’s seeing any of these guys face to face. It’s clear to even a casual observer that they’re anything but friendly.
The back door of the car opens, and a man in his early fifties steps out. Despite his somewhat young age, his gray hair makes him appear older. The charcoal suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored to his body and must have cost a fortune, not that money bears any meaning to him. He’s as rich as he is powerful.
“Mr. Vaughn,” He greets me.