Chapter 2
TWO
The hotel Avery and the guys are all staying at is in Sutherland Yards, the richest and most exclusive area in the heart of the city. It’s further up the coastline than the docks, far enough that you can almost forget you’re in the same city, and the views from the penthouse rooms are breathtaking.
By the time we get Joey’s unconscious body stashed in his room, we’re down to a meager two sleeping hours left before we have to leave for school. Avery ushers me into her room with a smile, ignoring Ash’s many protests and shutting the door on them.
I carried up both of my duffel bags, and Avery carried my payment, shooting Harley down when he attempted to carry them for us.
He took it about as well as he takes shit from me, only instead of bitching out his cousin, he glared at me like I was the one icing him out.
That’s not really my style, though, and he should know that by now, but here we are.
Staying awake only as long as it took to shove all four bags under Avery’s bed, I was out cold the moment my head hit her pillow. When my alarm wakes me, she’s already showered and on the couch in a fluffy white robe, sipping on a cup of coffee.
I would murder for one of those right now.
Avery chuckles under her breath, nodding at the table. “Don’t worry, I poured one for you as well.”
She laughs even harder when I practically trip over myself to grab it, murmuring my praises and undying love for her as I gulp it down on the way to the bathroom for my own shower.
Glancing at the mirror as I strip down, I wince at the mess staring back at me.
The glitter is everywhere, my hair is sticking up in all directions, and my mascara has left black smudges on my cheeks.
I don’t even want to think about what the pillows must now look like, but rather than delaying my shower, I rush through it to get back out to my bags, an old and ingrained habit.
I wouldn’t be here with Avery unless I trust her, but it’s still unnerving for me, even with the assurance she handed me before the break. God, I have to figure out how to even be a friend in the first place, let alone how to really trust someone with… everything.
How can I possibly trust someone with something like the Wolf?
I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out, no matter how much time that may take, because being friends with Avery means more to me than my fears or hesitations.
For the first time in my life, I have things I’m looking forward to.
I want to go to Hannaford with her, no matter how many gossips and snakes we’re sharing the halls with.
I’m shocked at just how excited I am to have her as a friend, but my surprise has nothing to do with Avery herself, more like I thought that sort of hope and optimism was carved out of me years ago.
If I think about it for too long, it starts to feel kind of pathetic how relieved I am to have someone on my side.
I have to remind myself of exactly how hard I’ve worked for this; my scholarship, my emancipation, my flawlessly loyal best friend, and my shot at a life outside of Mounts Bay.
A normal life.
I get glimpses of what that might look like from the moment I open the bathroom door and find her cackling at her phone on the couch. When I try to apologize for passing out before cleaning up, she waves me off, pouring me another cup of coffee before ordering us both room service for breakfast.
“You were practically dead on your feet, Lips; a shower would’ve finished you off. Forget about the pillowcases, we have far more important business to attend to.”
Turns out, important business means gossiping about our winter breaks and the endless rumors that reached Avery’s ears.
It’s fun and eases the tension still clinging to me.
Avery is shocked to find out I’ve never stayed in a hotel or eaten food delivered to me by a guy in a suit, giggling at how awkward I am about it all.
When I see the loaded cart of food she’s ordered, she smirks at me with a shrug. “Ballet is hardcore. I eat more than Ash does during the recital season.”
She eats as much as I do, and after seeing the other girls at Hannaford desperately clinging to their diets like they’ll die if they eat a piece of toast, it’s refreshing.
After breakfast, Avery has yet another heated argument with Ash about our travel arrangements because he does not want me to join them, and it ends with us girls tucked into the back of one of the Beaumonts’ luxurious chauffeur-driven Bentleys.
I squirm in the seat for about thirty seconds before Avery tells me to get over Ash’s shitty attitude in that kindly reassuring, no-bullshit way of hers. “He’s been a nightmare the entire break. I’m looking forward to getting back to school and finding new ways to avoid him.”
I still feel guilty about it. I can’t help it.
The haunted look in his eyes keeps flashing in my mind, how he practically shattered the moment he saw her injuries, the way he obviously loves her and feels as though I’m a threat to her.
There’s no question that I’m driving a wedge between them and, frankly, I hate that so goddamn much.
I also have no clue how to fix it, so I leave it for now and focus on the day ahead of us instead.
If I ever doubted Avery’s ability to manipulate the entire world to her
whims and designs, finding myself standing in our shared room would prove otherwise.
It came complete with a private bathroom and an honest-to-God coffee machine, and the moment I lay eyes on it, I start planning out how I’m going to bathe in coffee this year.
After another five minutes checking the space out, I discover that goal isn’t impossible at all, because the bathroom has a tub.
The place is even bigger than Avery’s single was, and my two bags feel pathetic as I look around at all of the space I now have to fill.
She smirks at the long look I give my bags before shrugging at me. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to worry about anyone sneaking in and messing with your stuff now that you’re rooming with me.”
I scoff at her and wave the lock I’ve brought with me. There’s no way I’m trusting anyone here this year, other than Avery. She laughs as she watches me struggle to screw the damn thing in place. When she ducks into the bathroom to make a phone call, I wiggle under my bed to hide my safe.
I’ll work out how to explain it to her once I figure out the Wolf stuff. Baby steps.
After it’s secure, I spend exactly two minutes unpacking my duffel bags before perching on my bed to glare down at the bags of cash I now have to deal with.
The movies make it look so easy, just get a fake business and funnel the money through, but in reality, without asking for the Jackal’s help, I’m going to struggle to get the funds clean.
I need a second option amongst the Twelve to get shit done.
I’ll add that to my never-ending list of things I have to think about.
“You never told me how much is in there,” says Avery as she unpacks her millionth box of shoes. I think she could wear a different pair every day for the rest of her life and still have some left over. I have three pairs. And I love the shit out of them.
“A hundred grand. It’s a pain in my ass, and I don’t want to leave it here tomorrow during classes.”
She snorts and pokes her head out of the closet to give me a look. “No one at Hannaford would need your dirty cash, Lips.”
I give her a sidelong look. “It’s not just that. Having bags full of hundred-dollar bills raises questions I don’t want to answer. There are enough people here who think I’m a whore,” I grumble. I’m just a little bit sour over the guys’ reactions last night.
Avery comes over to drop down onto the bed next to me, and she props her chin up in her palm as we both stare at the bags like they’ll give us some answers.
“I know someone who could help. It’s a risk, but he’s always been discreet.
And kind to me. I could play the dumb damsel in distress and get him to sort it for us.
He probably wouldn’t even ask for a cut. ”
I glance at her curiously. We’ve gotten to know each other much better thanks to the little truth-texts exercise she suggested.
I was skeptical at first, but I should have known better than to doubt this girl, even for a second.
No matter how big or small, the information we have revealed has painted a clearer picture of each of us, and it’s really helped me understand her way of thinking.
It has also helped me to figure out her reasoning on some of her actions and exactly why they were necessary despite feeling so uncharacteristic of her.
I know just enough about her father’s business and who he associates with to realize the file the Jackal gave me was a half-assed job that could’ve gotten me killed.
I can’t call him out on it, though, because if he had done it properly, we would have a whole new mess to deal with.
The Jackal would love to know Joseph Beaumont Sr.
Avery sighs and stands, grabbing one of the bags and slinging it over her shoulder. “Let’s hide them in the closet for now, and we can mull over the cleaning options. Have you picked your secret for today?”
I have but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t shitting myself about it. The Jackal messaged me on our drive back here to tell me how much he would miss me while I was gone, and it was the push I needed to finally start telling Avery about him.
Doesn’t mean I’m not anxious as fuck about it.
I don’t speak until we’ve tucked the bags securely behind the mountain of Avery’s boxes that I find out have her scarves in them. Scarves, for Christ's sake.
Scarves .
“What’s yours?” I chicken out and ask. Avery smiles and lets me avoid it for a minute, like the gem she is.