“Ouch.” His hand flew to his heart in a mock gesture of pain.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek, unable to believe what I contemplated telling Grayson. “This isn’t probably the right time to bring this up, but I’m pretty sure Carter plans to blackmail me. You too.”
Other than a slight flinch, he gave no other reaction. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He can try. Did he say something to you?” Grayson held out his hand for the beer.
I handed it over. “He might have.”
He narrowed his eyes and asked, “When the fuck did you talk to him?”
Oh boy, here we go again. Break out the male testosterone. I had a feeling I would be getting similar lectures from each of the Elite guys once they found out. “Not the point. What’s on the thumb drive?”
He shrugged, and I could see I his eyes that what was about to come out of his mouth wouldn’t be the entire truth. “Just information about kids at school.”
“What kind of information?” I pressed, a knot forming in my belly.
“You’re stubborn. And perceptive.” A long sigh of resignation left his lips. “The kind of stuff people pay big bucks to bury and hide. Those dark secrets people never want uncovered.”
I thought about our own secret and the file on my family. If that was just a slice of what was on the thumb drive, I shuddered to think what else might be on there. “Is this something you guys do for fun? Collect damning evidence?”
“It’s insurance. It’s what keeps us on top. Being worshiped also means we have enemies. We own that school. If you have a secret, you can assume that we know about it. They think twice about stepping out against us.”
“But it just doesn’t stop at the kids we go to school with, does it?”
He shook his head. “No. The parents are way worse. Half of them bring their kids into their dirty little side businesses.”
“Why don’t you turn it over to the police?” I couldn’t help ask.
Grayson just looked at me.
“Because there is information on your own families on the drive,” I muttered, answering my questions.
“Partially,” he verified. “But mostly, it’s there for future use. Our intention was never to be vigilantes. It started as a prank for kids at school, but the secrets we found, they were deep shit. So we made a pact. We agreed not to expose the truth unless someone got out of line. We could take down more than half the school. Students. Teachers. Staff. Parents. The list is ridiculous.”
I lifted my legs, tucking them underneath me on the recliner. “How does Carter know about the thumb drive?”
Darkness extinguished the light in Grayson’s eyes. They were cold and ruthless now. “Micah’s dumb ass got drunk, spilled the beans. This was a time when we thought we could trust Carter, before we knew what he did to the girls at our school.”
I didn’t like where this was going. My pocket buzzed before I could give him my snarky response. It could be Brock or Mads. I pulled out my phone and let a groan. Shit. Sunday dinner. I’d completely forgotten about it. I glanced up at Grayson with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, it’s my mom. Angie,” I scrambled to correct. “She’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Answer it,” he stated unemotionally. A mask dropped over his features at the mere mention of Angie, but he couldn’t hide the underlying anger that resided inside him entirely.
“Hey, Mom,” I answered, reminding me I had a role to play.
“Where are you?” she demanded from the other end of the phone.
Her tone caused me to wince, wrinkling my nose. This ought to be fun. “I’m not coming home,” I replied, exasperated. This conversation would brew a fight I just didn’t have the energy to deal with. It had all been sapped talking with Grayson.
But my mother didn’t know anything about that. “Josie, so help me God,” she hissed through the phone loud enough that even Grayson’s brows lifted. “If you aren’t home in the next five minutes, I’ll call the police.”
I grinned, an evil smirk that matched Grayson’s. He rolled his eyes at me. My sentiments exactly. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’d be very interested in hearing about what happened Friday night.”
“Josephine.” My name came out in a harsh warning.
I leaned back in the chair, which rocked back and forth in small movements. “Did Carter tell you what he did?”
Silence.
Then a long drawn-out sigh. Someone needed a glass of wine, Angie’s cure to a migraine in the works. “Josephine, I’m not in the mood to listen to another of your elaborate schemes to embarrass me and hurt your brother. I’ve head enough. My head is throbbing.”