Chapter Twenty-One
—NOA
Tech and I are looking through some of the papers from the Starline Hotel when we hear the sirens.
Immediately, I think of my brother. Did they find Ellis?
Is he okay? An ambulance and police cruiser park in front of the resort.
I take a step out from behind the counter of the Surf Shack. Or maybe it’s about Felix.
“Call up there,” I say to Tech, tapping his arm quickly. “See what’s happening.”
Before he gets the chance, we see Shawn come out from the side of the resort. She’s running toward us, hopping over patches of grass as she tries to hurry.
My heart rate explodes as Tech and I dash out to meet her.
“It’s Jamie,” she yells when she gets close. “They just arrested him.”
“What?” I say, my eyes widening. “For what?”
“Assault,” she tells me. “He just beat the hell out of Matteo in the lobby of the Augustus. Actually,” she concedes, catching her breath, “more like they beat the hell out of each other.”
“Is he hurt?” I ask.
Shawn shrugs. “I’m not sure, but it sounds like Jamie’s father is a real piece of shit.
Nina saw the whole thing, and she told me that his father broke up the fight by choking him unconscious.
I guess Matteo and a security guard had to pull his dad off of him.
Nina said it was scary—they thought he was going to kill him. ”
I cover my mouth, horrified. Thinking about the look on Jamie’s face when he left for the resort after ignoring his dad’s call.
Shawn pauses, catching her breath before continuing. “The sheriff and an ambulance are there now,” she adds. “But they have Jamie in cuffs. He seems all right otherwise because they’re taking him to the jail. And his father let everyone know that he wouldn’t be bailing his son out.”
“But he’s okay?” I ask. The idea of Jamie bloodied and bruised physically hurts me. When Shawn nods, I’m grateful.
“After everything that’s happened,” Tech says, “why does Matteo care about Jamie? He has bigger fucking problems.”
“I’ve given up trying to figure out men,” Shawn says easily, glancing back toward the resort.
If I were to guess, Matteo is lashing out at Jamie because he feels threatened by him. His relationship with me, with Jordan—his distance from the Collective. And Matteo is also grieving, so I’m sure attacking Jamie was his way to feel something—anything—else.
“There he goes,” Shawn says, motioning to the police car as it leaves the resort. I think we can assume that Jamie is in the backseat.
Tech blows out a cleansing breath. “Well,” he says, folding his hands on top of his head. “Who do we know that can afford bail money?”
I absolutely hate what I have to do right now.
I walk onto the pool deck of the Augustus Resort and see Jordan, thankfully alone, on a sun lounger. She’s wearing large sunglasses and a designer bathing suit. She looks magazine rich—cover ready.
Nervous, I cross to her chair and sit next to her. She doesn’t notice at first.
“I need to talk to you,” I say, and she jumps. Jordan pulls up her sunglasses, looking absolutely shocked to find me next to her. She darts her gaze around the pool area before sitting up and facing me.
“What the hell do you want?” she asks, but she’s more uncomfortable than cruel. She doesn’t want to be seen alone with me, which would wound my pride if I didn’t feel exactly the same way.
“Jamie needs your help,” I say, keeping my voice low.
She scoffs, then quickly pulls herself together again. “Then he can ask me himself,” she says. She pulls her sunglasses down again and lies back in her chair.
“He already used his one phone call,” I tell her. “It was to his mother. She said… she said no.”
Jordan’s jaw flexes, and then she turns me, removing her glasses again. “How do you know that?” she asks.
“The sheriff told me,” I say, my heart hurting.
When I called the station, my uncle let me know that Jamie would be locked up for the night and that he probably wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon.
“Jamie called his mom,” I tell Jordan, “but she refused to pay his bail. The sheriff said his hands are tied. He can’t help him.
Jamie will have to stay there until it’s paid. ”
“Why doesn’t he get a lawyer?” Jordan asks.
I tilt my head, as if it’s obvious. “Because his father owns all the lawyers in town.”
Jordan’s eyes weaken, and I see vulnerability there. The way Jamie’s parents have abandoned him—how the Collective can so easily abandon one of their own—it means that it can happen to her, too.
After a moment, Jordan pulls off her sunglasses and straightens her back. She takes out her phone and checks a few of her apps. “How much is bail?” she asks.
“Five thousand,” I tell her. She curses under her breath. After a few more taps, she sets her phone aside. She glances at me, as if impatient.
“Well?” she asks. “Where do we go to pay it? I’m not just going to hand you the money.”
I have to laugh, like this would be some grift to steal a few thousand from her. I stand up and text Shawn to bring the truck up to the resort.
“We’ll be out front,” I tell her. Jordan nods, but makes no movement to leave with me. I’m sure she’ll want to exit separately and preserve her image. I start to walk away, but stop to look at her.
“Thank you, by the way,” I tell her.
“It’s not for you,” she responds simply.
“I know that,” I say. “But it’s nice to see you’re still human.”
Jordan laughs, but I can tell that she’s proud to help, even if it goes against the Collective.
And for a moment, I think maybe Jamie is right to be friends with her.
I never saw the appeal, but even my brother liked Jordan a little.
At least, he told me once that he thought she was mostly good on the inside.
I exit the pool area to walk around the outside of the resort, avoiding the lobby, but just as I round the corner, I nearly bump into someone. I quickly apologize, but when I lift my head, I’m stunned silent.
Alessandro Mancini smiles politely at me, folding his hands in front of his pressed suit.
“Noa, is it?” he asks, his voice gravelly and deep—like someone who has smoked too many cigars. “What a surprise to see you up here.”
I’m startled. I’ve never in my life exchanged words with Mancini, and I have no idea how he even knows my name. “I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “Excuse me.”
As I go to move past him, he takes me by the elbow. The movement alarms me, and although he isn’t hurting me, he is holding me fast.
“Do I need to be concerned about you?” he asks, leaning his head closer to mine even though he’s staring straight ahead. “Tell me I don’t have to worry,” he adds.
“You… don’t,” I say, trying to sound calm, but he is actually terrifying. “I just came to see a friend,” I add.
He turns to me then, looking over my face. His eyes are so dark, they’re almost black, flecks of gray in his eyebrows.
“I doubt that,” he says, and then releases my arm. “Let’s not have you here again—we don’t need trouble.” His eyes narrow. “I’m sure you’ve heard that someone killed my nephew.”
My heart clenches, both on my grief and something else. As Mancini watches me… I realize he’s also threatening me.
That someone killed my nephew.
Someone they will have to blame.
I swallow hard, taking a step back from him. He smiles, forced and mocking. “So we understand each other?” he asks.
“Understood,” I reply quickly.
This seems to satisfy him. “Very good,” he says. Then Mancini walks away, leaving me alone to catch my breath.
Now that I’ve actually spoken to him, seen that darkness in his eyes, I think we need to consider that Alessandro Mancini had something to do with Florence’s death.
There is something about him… something cold and calculating.
And as I stand here, I’m horrified to consider that maybe he was involved in Felix’s death too.
Nervously, I glance around to make sure he’s gone, and then quickly walk to the front of the resort. It’s better if I’m not seen in enemy territory. However, I can’t seem to avoid detection.
“You lost?” a voice calls out. I turn, and when I see Creed standing near the valet stand, I have a sinking feeling in my gut. I really don’t need his shit right now.
“Yeah,” I reply, mockingly. “Super lost. Are they holding the asshole convention inside, or…?” I motion to him. “Out here?”
Creed sucks at his teeth, pissed, but behind him the valet smirks at my comment. After nursing his burn, Creed slips his hands into his pockets and approaches me. I hold my ground, not intimidated by him.
“What is it about you?” he asks. “Fucking Chasers, man. I hear you got James arrested? I definitely warned him about you.”
The fact that he calls him James reminds me that they’re not actually friends. I flip him off, and turn back to the driveway, waiting for the Surf Shack truck to arrive.
Creed continues his approach until he stops right in front of me, invading my space. When I look up at him, the edges of his blond mustache wet with spit, I am disgusted.
“I’m sure you heard about Felix,” he whispers. My heart immediately skips, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. “I told Matteo,” Creed adds, shaking his head, “if your cousin keeps hanging out with those Chaser deviants, he’s going to end up dead. Seems I was right.”
“Back up,” I warn Creed, my eyes burning with rage. He doesn’t even seem to hear me.
“To be honest,” Creed continues, starting to chuckle, “when we heard there was a dead body, we started taking bets. I lost fifty bucks. Hell, we all figured it was your loser brother they pulled out of the water. What a waste.”
I see red, and without thinking about it, I yank back my arm and punch him directly in the face.
We both cry out in pain at the same time.
I shake my hand from the sting of the bone-on-bone impact against his teeth.
For his part, Creed has stumbled back, a new cut in his lip with fresh red blood running over his chin.
“Fucking bitch,” he growls, and then spits out the blood on the pavement.