Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“The guy we hired for Stoll was a great double. But Stoll also happens to look like Jacques without the beard. Yeah, the Crows are right to pin this on us, but they’re not going to get anywhere picking people out of photographs or chasing after the test-buyers to say who they got it from. They’re done.”
“Wow, that’s—that’s nicely done,” I said. “Except like you said, they’re pinning this on you. I’m going to be very upset with both of you if you’re caught and hurt by the Crows. You better be careful.”
“Oh?” Roan trailed his finger between my breasts. “What happens when you’re upset with us?”
“My blow jobs decrease in frequency and creativity. Your sexual frustration increases.”
“Damn. What do we think of that, Legend?”
“Can’t have it, Roan. Guess we better watch our backs.”
Roan hummed. “I’ll start with watching my front. Let’s get a taste of what we’ll be missing out on.”
Legend positioned himself behind me so he could get a taste of something else.
I shivered as he brought out the paddles. Palming Roan’s cock, I raised my ass up high.
THE NEXT FEW DAYS BLURRING into a week, passed without incident.
Word spread on the Crows’ expulsion. The whispers mostly agreed that they deserved the sentence, but were split on who did it. Did they steal and sell the midterms, or were they framed by the Bedlam Boys? Obviously, the people who actually bought the tests from the lookalikes, weren’t coming forward to admit anything and get handed their own expulsion.
I wanted to stick to Legend like glue. Conflicting schedules and his repeated assurances no one was going to touch him, made that difficult.
Jacques and I were in the kitchen making breakfast Friday morning, when his phone rang.
He paused in chopping up bananas and stuck the cell in the crook of his neck.
“Hello? Yes, Ellis.”
My chopping ceased too.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jacques said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I moved closer, straining to make sense of the murmurs on the other end.
“That’s not going to happen. No,” Jacques replied, tone even. “This has nothing to do with fearing you—a laughable concept—and everything to do with distrusting you. If we meet you out at Westchester Drumlins, logic suggests it’ll be a trap.”
I tossed my head, mouthing no though Jacques refused. That was a trap up, down, and sideways. No matter what Jeremy said, the last thing he wanted to do was talk things out like gentlemen. A guy who manhandled me on every explosion of his short fuse, did not know the meaning of the word.
“The Roadhouse,” Jacques said. “Why should we? What’s in it for us?”
He paused to listen.
“Ridiculous. We never took your little threats and pranks seriously. Why would we care if you stop? As far as the Bedlam Boys are concerned, you haven’t started.”
A bold claim.
The Crows beat up me and Cairo’s sister. Set the last memory of Arsenio’s father up in flames. Poisoned and nearly killed Judge Stone, and Jacques yawns and says “What else you got?”
Why was I the only one who did not want to find out?
“I see. Interesting. We’ll be there.”
He hung up.
“Well?” I asked. “What did he say?”
Jacques resumed making his smoothie. “Ellis and his Crows want to meet us at the Roadhouse this afternoon. In exchange for helping them reverse the expulsion, they’ll transfer to another university and leave Bedlam for good.”
“Help them how? They can’t think you’re about to go to the dean and tell her you hired actors to set them up.”
“He said something about convincing our girl to be Stoll’s alibi for the time someone broke into administration. He wants you there too.”
“Will you go?”
“I see no reason why not.”
“This could still be a trap is enough of a reason.”
“The Roadhouse is packed on a Friday night. If they’re going to pull something, they’ll do it in front of witnesses, and there goes the innocent victim act.”
“I don’t know, Jacques. You said you would force them to commit the act they couldn’t come back from. You didn’t see Jeremy going off on Dean Banks. You weren’t there when he went off on me. The Bedlam Boys branded him a thief and cheater. You got him kicked out and the dean is getting the sheriff involved. You just forced someone who’s never known consequences to eat it in a big way. He’s not sitting down anywhere just to talk.”
“I’m aware of this, de Souza. The Crows will strike, and we’ll be ready.”
THAT NIGHT, THE SIX of us pulled up to the Roadhouse.
The establishment was the kind of place you picture when you heard the name. Dim lighting, old-fashioned décor, neon signs, wood paneling everywhere, and a simple menu of fried chicken tenders, wings, and cheap beer.
It was the main bar for Bedlam U students thanks to it sitting a ten-minute walk away. A fact that meant two dozen bar-goers fell silent as we made for the Crows’ booth in the back. They all knew the beef, and they were all watching.