Chapter 3
“MUSTANG SALLY” BY THE COMMITMENTS
Tapping my cigarette against the handlebar of my bike, I waited patiently for Erica and Olivia to jog back to the parking lot after cheer practice.
School was back in session. While the Ghouls were hard at work with morning practices, I was half expecting this Dawson girl to make an appearance earlier than most to retrieve her schedule.
It was the first day of school, forty minutes till the bell.
Still, I had yet to spot that baby blue paint roll through the student parking gates—unless she was overly prepared and printed it off at home.
I didn’t see her having enough time to find her locker, secure her classes, and find a parking spot among the horribly crooked drivers who attended Styxton.
She was the daughter of a fed. I bet this bitch printed it out, laminated it, and memorized it once she taped it to the top of her Inspector Gadget lunch box.
I drummed my matte black nails on the leather of my seat and giggled at the thought. I couldn’t believe I was about to fuck around and befriend another member of the FBI kid squad. As if Erica wasn’t pushing my loyalty over in Murdafest already.
It was difficult with Erica. She was my best friend.
At first, we weren’t, not anywhere close.
I once glued her crayons together so she’d be forced to use them all at once.
Then, she retaliated by using her blood red kiddie scissors to cut my brand-new pencil pouch.
During a Christmas party, we were forced to share a cupcake for acting like assholes to each other all year long.
I took the Funfetti bottom, and she licked off all the chocolate icing.
It was a handshake type of deal, and no kindergarteners were murdered in our silent agreement.
If Erica could forgive me for knowing the man who murdered her abuelo, then I could forgive her for knowing the guy who killed my cousin.
Levi was beyond my control, and Bruno made a bad judgment call in a high-pressure situation.
We made it our silent agreement, an agreed upon deal not to talk about our families when we could avoid it.
Our relationship mended over the years. We both started gymnastics, where we first met Olivia Webster.
From there, we sought out the Ghouls together until finally parting ways when I got pregnant.
I kept my distance so they could focus on the Ghouls, but they always found me.
Even when I didn’t want to be found, my idiot friends had a map to my heart.
A classic tune came through the Bluetooth of my helmet as I scanned the parking lot again.
Erica and Olivia were dragging their feet in the locker room or something, because a few other cheerleaders were already at their cars.
Just as I was about to go find a parking spot near D’arcy’s car, a flash of baby blue caught my attention.
“Well, well, well.” I tilted my head and observed the Mustang as it cruised down the lane of cars. It jerked multiple times, brake lights flashing and wheels locking up with each student who walked too close to its nice paint job.
Great. The fed’s daughter was a new driver.
She was nervous as hell and continued to kill that poor car’s engine, pushing down the gas to move forward, only to slam the brake pedal to the floor.
That, or she was worried about scratching her car.
Either way, she moved like a snail through the parking lot, missing multiple spots she could have turned into.
If only she knew how to maneuver such a vehicle into open narrow spots, she might have saved herself some time.
I couldn’t remember her name—something like Quintessence. My fucking luck. A good tune and a play on my name. It was almost as if my father tasked me with ending myself.
I didn’t know much about this girl. I’d seen distant pictures of her through a car window and a few sightings from Erica’s bedroom window as she carried boxes into her home. Other than that, every spout of information I had came from Levi, and I knew that wouldn’t be without bias.
He spoke of my assignment with a sour expression.
Everything he said made me feel as though I was walking into a room and shooting an innocent bunny rabbit.
Levi never gave me any distinct information about the daughter, not besides her being a girl and having a cop for a dad.
All anyone ever talked about was the traitor.
Sebastian Dawson.
Sebastian home-wrecker Dawson. That was what my father muttered as he left the bar the other night—among other fun words.
I knew my family enough to see they wanted her father dead more than they wanted this Quintella slaughtered. I didn’t get it—why did they want her dead? This girl had her entire life ahead of her, and she never made a single move to cause any harm to my family.
She was innocent. A civilian born into the wrong life. A downtown girl who deserved to switch places with me and pretend she lived in luxury.
And holy Satan. She was a horribly nervous driver who desperately needed to learn how to drive that fucking car before she ruined its engine. She took wider turns than my grandma!
I flicked my cigarette into the grass and kicked the stand of my bike with the heel of my foot.
It flapped back, muted under the revving of my engine waking up from its sweet slumber.
No one dared to park next to such a nice car or a new student.
I’d be willing to take that chance, though, if it gave me a step into her daily life.
What did Quintessential do to find herself on the chopping block?
Hopefully this would be easier than digesting the boiling lava in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t do the whole privilege girl thing. Unless they were good in bed, it wasn’t anything of interest to me.
I rolled casually through the parking lot and frowned when she stepped out of her car.
At first glance, she appeared nothing close to the photos I’d seen of Sebastian.
He was a murky blond and six feet tall. His daughter was around my height with darker hair than my roots.
Not to mention, her tight curls were nowhere close to the texture of her father’s greasy-looking locks.
Her shoulders tensed as I pulled in behind her, taking up the open parking spot. She continued fishing something out of her back seat, leaning over enough for me to admire the tension in the fabric of her jeans that outlined her cell phone.
Well, damn, honey. No one mentioned she looked like that.
I leaned back slightly to get a better view and tried to keep my helmet forward, though my eyes trailed back to her cell phone to spy at . . . at her cellphone.
Who was I deceiving? She had a hot ass. And those jeans snug on her hips? Death to me. Damn.
I was sure her personality would be enough to dissuade me, but she came off nice. Innocent, almost.
Fuck me.
I licked my lips and searched for Erica and Olivia again.
A flicker ran through my head as I noticed her thighs, then the way her hips centered her body, thinking back to my night with D’arcy recently.
There was something about beautiful women and the way they gripped my head with their thighs that made me more inclined to admire their qualities.
Sure, some may call it perving, but I thought of it as giving attention to those who deserved it. Not dumbass men. They didn’t deserve a second of my attention. But this girl, with long curls I could wrap around my knuckles . . .
My nostrils flared as I inhaled and closed my eyes. How much work would it take to fuck a girl like that in a car like this? Double win, if anyone were to ask me.
I forced my head forward when Quintana turned from her car, head down in her bag. My eyes continued to steal glances in her direction, waiting for her to stop ferreting around for whatever she lost.
My wrist revved my engine to grab her gaze. I wanted to see her eyes, see her in full view. She jumped at my impatience, wide eyes shooting to me. It shocked me how frightened she came across. Had she not seen me moments ago? Heard my engine behind her?
Through the tint of my face guard, it was easy to see the freckles sprinkled across her face, along with a heart drawn in eyeliner near the corner of her left eye.
She eyed me for a second before turning away. Not even bothering to introduce herself, she marched off toward the school with a dramatic slam of her car door.
“Fuck you too, then.” I rolled my eyes and ripped off my chin strap. “Bitch.”
That Dawson girl was long gone by the time I climbed off my bike. I spotted Olivia jogging over to greet me from the sidewalk, Erica lazily walking behind her. I pocketed my keys and tossed my satchel bag over my shoulder.
“Quinn!” Olivia jumped off the curb and threw her arms around my neck. She was lucky I closed the distance before her long legs could attempt the jump. “We should get Thai for lunch. There’s this new place across town?—”
“New to her.” Erica snorted, taking her time joining our sides. “It’s new to her. Nothing in this town is new.”
“Of course there is!” Olivia giggled, turning to admire the car beside my bike. “Who’s got the new wheels? It’s pretty and super blue.”
Erica’s glance at the Mustang was fleeting. She stared at me with her lips pursed before turning to Olivia.
“New girl,” she said, arms crossed. “Moved in a few doors down from me last week. Convenient Quinn just happens to park next to the only girl she hasn’t screwed.”
“Hey.” Olivia shot Erica a soft glare. “Quinn hasn’t screwed everyone.”
“Oh, yeah?” My frenemy crossed her arms. “Who?”
“You!”
Erica scoffed and turned her body to face the Mustang. I took the chance to pull out a piece of gum to avoid Olivia’s eyes. I tossed the kiwi-watermelon cube over my tongue and nodded.
“You’re right, Ollie.” I smirked and stared at my best friend. “I can’t screw Erica because she’ll taste like my ex-boyfriend’s tiny little penis.”
Erica sidestepped and rounded toward me with a wide, fake smile. She laughed, one that sounded suspiciously like a mix between an evil choke and a menacing suspense. I backed up and rounded the back of my bike, yelping when Erica picked up my helmet off the seat and chucked it at my side.
“Hey! Hey! Leave my baby alone, brat!” I took a quick step toward her and went low, slapping her thigh.
I watched Olivia’s eyes roll as I darted in her direction. I knew I was too late. Erica Kane had the arm of Thor. She swung back the second she regained composure. In seconds, my backside stung from her sharp, loud slap against my left ass cheek.
“You can’t hit me!” I whined, diving behind Olivia and holding her by her arms.
“Oh, sure I can!”
Erica tried to dart around Olivia, but I pivoted with each step. We slapped each other’s hands and rounded around in circles while the tall blonde between us tried to contain her goofy smile.
“You two totally screwed.” Olivia gave Erica a teasing grin.
From where I leaned around Olivia, I could see Erica’s frazzled expression. She gawked up at Olivia and rocked her head in a pleading gesture.
“You don’t seriously believe?—”
“No, no.” Olivia giggled, stepping forward and hugging Erica. “I’m teasing you, Eri. Ree-lax.”
I dusted off the sleeves of my jacket and fixed my backpack’s straps.
Olivia had Erica’s face squished against her chest, her chin nuzzled on the top of her head as they hugged.
A smile broke free from my face seeing how calm my friend became.
I turned before they could see and focused on grabbing all my things while Olivia giggled over Erica’s sensitive nature.
It was always the short ones with the most fire.
Once Erica had calmed down, I could feel her eyes turn on me, not missing the way I scanned the Mustang beside us.
“She’s from New York,” Erica stated, as if that would fill in all the answers in my head.
“Ah!” My eyebrows raised, crossing my arms. “I can see the Yankee in her.”
I explained how I didn’t say a word and she gave me the basic bitch big apple stare down.
Erica hovered a foot or two from my bike, keeping her distance from both Olivia and me.
“You know anything interesting about the new girl?” she asked, a twinkle of accusation in her eyes.
I knew what she was getting at. Erica Kane was my best friend.
She was a bitch and had no fear of crossing me if it meant protecting something she cared about.
Lucky for me, she didn’t care about too much besides Olivia, Estelle, her family, and maybe me.
Unless Yankee Doodle Dawson had some sort of genetic tie to Erica, I didn’t see us having any major issues.
If she cared about her, she would have mentioned something to me, something more than a slide of a comment directly before the first bell.
Not that I’d respect it this time. The family was panting down my neck, waiting to know what I did and how I’d do it.
The method of a kill told you a lot about someone.
Tossing my arm over my friend’s shoulders, I took Olivia’s hand and guided them both away from the shiny, interesting Mustang. It was best for my sanity and our friendship that we walk away.
“Nope.” I leaned in to kiss Erica’s cheek and chuckled when she grunted and shoved me away. Still, even though she shimmered with irritation, the corner of her lips jolted into a barely visible smile.