Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
The shooting range is obviously disguised today, as is the detonation room—last thing we need is someone to ask why we teach our students how to create and defuse explosives.
The double doors are opened as we reach the entrance, and as one, Delta, Bronx, and I ease out onto the brick steps to find the eager, wide-eyed group waiting.
Their attention moves to us immediately, gazes raking over each of us, from our crisp blazers to the matching pastel-pink pleated skirts. Their attention snaps over our shoulders and I know Damiano and Alto have joined us, the boys wearing our black-and-blue uniform option today.
I take a step forward, and all eyes fall on me.
I smile bright, big and fake and exhausted as I hold my hands out. “Welcome to—”
The door to the giant charter bus opens once more, my gaze lifting, locking onto a pair of icy gray ones, and my words freeze on the tip of my tongue.
No …
All heads turn, and he takes one step, then another, and I swear the group below parts for him to slip through, to push forward. He doesn’t stop but keeps coming until the tips of his tattered shoes are pressed to the brick.
Eyes locked on mine, he cocks his head. “You were saying?”
Fuck.
Bass
“My, my, the color shock paints your skin is a pretty sort of pink,” I whisper in her ear. “One might even call it … red.”
Rocklin shoots me a glance over her shoulder, promising her deepest wrath, and I, for one, am looking forward to it.
It doesn’t take her long to come out of her little moment of surprise. She recovers quickly enough, but the smile she pastes on is even faker than the first one.
She’s pissed.
That makes two of us.
Damiano’s eyes snag mine as he turns, one hand behind his back, the other ushering a group of giddy girls through the double doors leading into the fancy-ass building. Just before I can slide on through, his body shifts, now facing mine.
I step in closer, bringing me and Pretty Boy toe to fucking toe. “Go on. Your chivalry means shit to me.”
High blond brows dip, nostrils flaring. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but this is not a place for any more of your games.”
“Didn’t Rocklin tell you, pretty boy?” My chin dips. “This is no game.”
“You cannot be here.”
“I am. What are you gonna do about it?”
His jaw flexes, that little pulse line running through it tic, tic, ticcing away and a slow smirk grows across my face.
“Yeah.” I nod, shouldering past him. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”
The dude isn’t scared of me yet, so I know he’d come at me if we were anywhere but on the front steps of their precious little rich prick academy.
“This place looks like it was built for the queen,” Chloe, the contract girl the Grecos mentioned and a chick from my hometown, mutters as she falls in line beside me.
“Maybe it was.” I look around from one golden beam to the next. “Bet they think real high of themselves here. Higher than you think of yourself, in fact.”
Chloe scoffs a low laugh, and what do you know, Rocklin’s head snaps around, eyes tightening as she sets hers on the brunette at my side.
My cock twitches at the sight of her not-so-well-hidden glare.
“Suddenly it all makes sense,” Chloe whispers, lifting her chin as if to appear half as superior as all the eyes roaming over our little tour group seem to believe they are.
“What does?”
“Why you blackmailed me into getting you on the tour.”
“If you didn’t want people to know how much you liked sucking dick, maybe don’t get on your knees so much.”
She whips her body toward mine, hissing. “You came onto me!”
“Never said I didn’t.” I was a dumbass last year when it came to women.
She huffs, shakes her head and moves as far away from me as she can.
Thank fucking god.
She and I were a twenty-minute drunken night of fun we both pretended never happened … until those brothers dropped her name and I knew I’d need to call on her at some point.
Rich bitches will do about anything to hide their dirty little secrets from the rest of the world. Including wearing a fucking full-on bodysuit that covers every inch of one’s throat.
My attention zeroes in on Rocklin, but I don’t have to wait for hers.
I’ve already got it, but the second Chloe steps away, she focuses forward once more.
The girls take turns, spitting out lines straight from the brochure and adding some background bullshit to make it all sound pretty, knowing damn well that all these wannabe crew members are eating up are the perfect plastic people all around.
It’s like a walking, talking wax museum in this bitch.
My girl isn’t playing, it’s privileged perfection all around.