Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
KANE
Icould kiss Maverick. The guy is a fucking genius.
It’s the following Thursday. I’m driving to Beverly’s when my phone rings, and Maverick’s face lights up the screen. I ignore the call, not in the mood to talk.
My lip still throbs after a meeting with my angry father. Usually, the old man is more careful about leaving marks, but he was royally pissed off this time.
Apparently, my attitude sucks.
And on top of my shitty attitude, I also missed an important meeting with the Society.
What can I say? I was teaching Jessica how to race in between eating her out at Dark Lanes.
But my father doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know a lot of things because his hired goons are thick as shit.
So I took two blows to my face and one to my kidney like a good sport. I mean, I couldn’t even have fought back if I wanted to. His enforcers grabbed one arm each, while my father slipped off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves.
The phone starts ringing again.
Maverick.
This time, I answer the call, wincing in the rearview mirror when I see my busted lip. That’ll be sore for days. Fucking great.
“Try not to fall in love with me, but I found it,” Maverick says, sounding far too chipper.
“Found what?”
“Just take a second and prepare to be impressed.”
“Spit it out,” I all but bark.
“You’re no fun. Let’s just say I found enough dirt to bury your father six feet under.”
My heart skips a beat. I don’t dare get my hopes up, but this is Maverick. The brilliant Mav, who is the fucking king of hacking.
“Well? Don’t breathe at me, talk.”
“I think you’d better see it for yourself. I emailed the file over.”
I try to steady my breathing, but this could finally be it, the leverage I need to get him to back the hell off. This could be what I need to protect Jessica.
“I would pay good money to see his face when you confront him.”
“He might put a bullet in my head.”
I spot an old black Ford Expedition in my rearview mirror, keeping its distance. I’m being followed.
Maverick snickers. “He won’t. There’s too much at stake, and not just for him. He can’t wiggle his way out of this one.”
I’m only half listening. The car speeds up when I press the gas, then slows down when I let off, confirming my suspicions.
“I’ve got a tail,” I mutter. This is great… just what I need. To get my ass whooped even more.
“Your father’s men?” Maverick asks.
“I doubt it. Judging by the old make and model, I’d say it’s Chris.”
No one on our side of town would drive a beat-up vehicle like that, not unless you held a gun to their head. And I can’t think of anyone else who’d want to beat my ass.
Well, that’s not true. We have plenty of enemies, but few have the guts to go up against us. They’d have a death wish. Chris, however, knows I can’t lay a finger on him. My girl wouldn’t let me touch her for a century if I hurt her brother.
Maverick makes an agreeing sound in his throat. “Chris wouldn’t send someone to beat you up. He’ll want to do it himself.”
“Look, I’ve got to take care of this.”
Maverick snickers. “Just remember how good her pussy feels when he rams his fist into your face.”
“Don’t fucking talk about my girl like that.”
I think Chris has finally had enough of this cat-and-mouse game because he’s speeding up and gaining on me.
“That’s right. I forget how pussy-whipped you are.” Maverick rips open a packet of something, probably that Cheddar Chex Mix he likes so much.
I press down on the accelerator. Chris can fuck up my face. He’s not touching my damn car, but it sure looks like that’s exactly what he’s trying to do. Because in the next second, he crashes into me from behind. I curse, swerving on the road. “Fucking PRICK.”
“You okay there, princess?”
“Don’t sound so fucking amused.”
Chris drives his front into my baby again, jolting my neck.
“Not the car, you fucking psycho!” I roar. It’s infuriating that the bends and twists in the road limit my speed. My car is a hell of a lot faster than his, but I can’t shake him.
“We should have video called,” Maverick says, the packet crinkling.
“I’m hanging up.”
“Want me to alert your girl that her boyfriend is in mortal peril?”
“Since when did you become Cash? This isn’t fucking funny.”
Seriously. Screw this shit. I’m not letting Chris do more damage to my car. It’s a damn custom, for fuck’s sake. There are only five hundred of them in the world.
If Chris were anyone else, I’d tie him up and kick him off a damn cliff. But this situation calls for restraint.
As much as I’m itching to, I can’t murder my girlfriend’s brother.
We pass a sign for a public beach up ahead.
There are many of them scattered around this area, and most are small but popular with locals.
I turn into the parking lot and cut the engine.
I’m practically vibrating with uncontained rage.
It’s one thing to race me on the track, but to challenge me like this? Damage my damn car?
I don’t fucking think so.
Chris jumps out of his car when I slam my door shut, but he’s not alone. His friends are here, too. They climb out of the Ford and crack their knuckles. Malice is just as big as I remember him. He looks the way I’d picture someone from the Falls—bulky, menacing, tattooed.
Jackson sneers at me. That guy always gets on my nerves.
I can’t decide if he’s fucked my girl, and if he hasn’t, I think he wants to. Then there’s the blonde guy in the back. I can never remember his name. What is it again? Samuel? Samson? Sam? Something like that.
I watch them as they square up. Chris is at the helm. Four to one. So this is it? They’re here to give me an ass-kicking. To send a message. I thought we were past that. I’ve already made myself crystal clear. The only way I stay away from Jessica is if they kill me.
“I warned you to stay away from my sister,” Chris says, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie to show his corded, tattooed forearms. The move is meant to intimidate, but all it reveals is that this guy doesn’t know me very well.
I’ve been through far worse than anything they can dish out.
My father made sure of that. I’m not afraid of pain.
“You’re like a fucking mosquito,” he goes on. “No matter how many times I swat you away, you keep coming back.”
“Your point is?”
“You give me no choice but to squash you.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?”
If that’s his big, evil speech, consider me disappointed.
Chris tightens his jaw, glances at his friends behind him, then smirks. “You’re smug now, Ravencourt, but you won’t be for long.”
He then juts his chin, giving a silent command, and Jackson and Malice move forward to grab my arms.
Screw that.
I refuse to go down without a fight. I ram my elbow into Jackson’s nose and slam my fist into Malice’s jaw, but it’s me against them, and I’m outnumbered. They soon have me immobilized.
Chris slams a sack over my head and then zip-ties my hands behind my back. They shove me forward, and I trip. My shoulder takes the brutal impact, but I refuse to make a sound. I won’t give Chris the satisfaction.
They haul me back up and shove me ruthlessly against the car before something hard, like the butt of a gun, collides with my skull in a heavy blow, and everything goes black.