Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“Not leaving yet, are you?” he mocks. “We’re just getting warmed up here.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m straight enough to get the appeal.” I think it over. “Or maybe I’m too straight to watch half-naked dudes pretend-fuck each other for ten minutes.”
“That’s hilarious,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of hilarious—I heard a funny story about you recently. That you sold essays to a couple seniors last week.”
I offer a shrug. “So?”
“So I thought I made myself pretty clear. Any side action goes through me. That’s the way it works around here.”
That gets him another shrug. “Yeah, I’m not into it.”
“Not into it,” he repeats, crossing his arms over his chest. Duke keeps his composure with this play at civility, but below the surface I know he’s fuming. Just itching to throw me in the center of the circle and go a few rounds. “Maybe you didn’t understand, but participation isn’t optional.”
Frustration rises inside me. Forget this nonsense already. “Look, man. I’m not interested. This is my gig and I’m not asking permission or forgiveness. Deal with it.”
“You still don’t get it.” He muscles up to me, dark eyes gleaming. “I run this shit. All of it. You either get with the program or you find out how hard your life gets.”
I flick my gaze to his. “Do I look like I respond to threats?”
“I can give you a preview right now if—”
Duke’s ready to take a swing until Fenn dives between us. “All right, party’s over,” my stepbrother announces. His tone is light, but it’s betrayed by the hardness of his face. “Time to blow this popsicle stand.”
“Your brother’s testing my goodwill,” Duke snarls.
“Yeah, he’s an insolent little fucker, huh?” Fenn throws his arm over my shoulder and proceeds to practically drag me outside. Lucas and a distracted-looking Silas trail behind us, but Lawson is nowhere to be seen.
“You don’t have to do that,” I tell Fenn. “Duke doesn’t scare me.”
“Dude, I get that you don’t understand it, but seriously, you shouldn’t antagonize him. It’s not a problem you want.”
“He can bitch and moan all he likes; he’s not squeezing a cent out of me.”
Outside, I breathe in some much-needed fresh air, happy to leave the scent of blood and sweat behind me. While Silas texts somebody, Fenn pulls out his trusty flask and takes a quick sip. When he holds it out, I accept it and slug back some bourbon that goes down so smooth I’m pleasantly surprised.
“Who died and made that asshole king, anyway?” I mutter, passing the flask to Lucas. “And why does everyone put up with it?”
Silas finally peers up from his phone. “Tradition,” he answers. He rolls his eyes. “Any time you’re trying to figure out why some stupid shit is happening at Sandover, the answer is always tradition.”
“It’s a tradition for a juiced-up psychopath to profit off hard-working entrepreneurs?” I grumble.
Fenn snorts. “Pretty much. But this year it’s a lot more entertaining,” he says with a laugh. He drains the rest of the flask before tucking it into the back pocket of his thousand-dollar jeans. “What with you not falling in line. Poor Duke doesn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’s probably crying himself to sleep every night.”
“Or plotting your demise,” Silas says, grinning at me.
I’m unbothered. Let Duke plot and scheme. I’m doing the same over here on my end. Or trying to, at least. My background search into Duke hadn’t turned up anything juicy yet. Just the usual basic bullshit. Filthy rich parents. One older brother who’s an upstanding and contributing member of society. Little sister who attends some disgustingly posh prep school out of state. The two of them are close, judging by his social media.
As far as I can tell, there’s nothing overtly nefarious in his family life. Which means I need to keep digging. I’m confident I’ll find something on him eventually. Guys like Duke always have a skeleton or two in their closet. Only a matter of time before one comes tumbling out.
I glance at Fenn, then Silas. “I still can’t gauge your relationship with the guy. You’re not friends.”
“Friends?” Fenn echoes. “Nah. We’re cordial. There’s no point agitating Duke unless it’s for something important, a hill you want to die on, you know? For the most part, we do our own things.”
Silas shrugs his agreement. “He gives us wide berth because we don’t try to mess with any of his rackets.”
“Rackets. God, he’s such a douchebag.” Lucas laughs. “I don’t know what Sloane ever saw in the guy.”
I blink.
Then blink again.
“Wait, what?” I blurt out.
While Lucas seems confused by my outburst, Fenn and Silas exchange an amused grin. “Shit, Lawson’s going to be so disappointed,” Fenn says solemnly. “He really wanted to be the one to break the news.”
“Sloane dated Duke?” I growl.
Fenn is clearly fighting back laughter. “Oh yeah.”