The rest of the evening went as well as could be expected—i.e. it was awkward as fuck. We ate a strained dinner, Winter avoiding even looking in my direction, West carrying most of the conversation with my dad. I did get my dad to agree to let me start shadowing him in the business, so at least the evening wasn’t a total waste. He was very cagey about Tuesday nights, though, so that line of questioning was a dead end.
By the time we’d finished eating, we’d all reached our limits of patience.
Outside, I got into the car without saying goodbye to Winter but rolled the window down so I could hear her conversation with West.
“You need a new back tyre. Look.” He pointed, crouching next to the wheel arch and shining his phone light onto the wheel. “The tread’s really worn.”
She sighed. “Really? Great, more money to shell out.”
Weston climbed to his feet and glanced over at me, then back at her. “Leave it with me, I can sort it for you. I know a place that does them cheap. Part-worn ones.”
Because it was Weston, and she trusted him, she didn’t even question it. “Thanks, that would be great. Let me know how much I owe you.”
“No problem. I’ll pick the car up early Tuesday morning, is that okay? You can give me your key on Monday at uni if you don’t want to get up early.”
“Yeah, perfect. I don’t think I’ll need to use it that day.”
“Sorted.” They hugged each other, and then he walked around and opened the R8 passenger door. He paused for a moment, leaning across the car roof. “Hey, Winter? You coming to the big bonfire night party next Saturday for Guy Fawkes?”
“What party?”
“Didn’t you hear about it? At Alstone Castle?”
She shrugged unenthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. I don’t know. Maybe. I’m not really in a party mood at the moment, but ask me again at the end of the week.”
“I will. And you’d better be there.”
She gave him a half-smile and got into her car, while Weston slid in next to me.
“Happy now?”
“Not really.” I started the engine, and the car purred to life.
“When are you going to admit that you want her?”
“Don’t fucking start,” I warned, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white.
He huffed and slumped back in his seat.
We drove home in silence.
Pulling up outside the house, I couldn’t shake the tension running through me. Weston climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. I clenched and unclenched my fists on the steering wheel, my leg bouncing restlessly.
The next minute, Zayde was sliding into the car next to me. “Let’s go.”
I hit the music system and peeled away from the driveway with a screech, the sounds of Breaking Benjamin reverberating through the surround sound speakers, matching my black mood, and we raced down the country lanes and onto the wide road that ran parallel to the headland. I let the car fly down the mostly empty road at high speeds, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
We reached a smaller built-up area, with rows of red-brick Victorian terraced houses, all identical, and I turned the music down low. I slowed the car and cruised to a stop outside a house with a nondescript faded red door, my mood calmer after the rush of speeding down the empty roads in my R8.
Z punched out a message on his phone, and a couple of minutes later, a dark hooded figure emerged from the house, silently closing the door behind him.
Zayde rolled down his window, and the guy leaned in.
“Z.” They bumped fists, and then he nodded to me. “Rich boy.”
“Alright, Mack.” Zayde handed him a roll of notes, and Mack slipped a bag out of the sleeve of his hoodie, placing it in Zayde’s hand.
“Cheers.”
“See ya next time.” Mack backed away from the car and jogged back to the house, disappearing inside. I started up the engine, smoothly pulling away and heading back towards Alstone.
The car was silent, moving through the empty streets, the sea on one side and fields on the other. As we reached the outskirts of Alstone, nearing our home, and houses became visible on the horizon, something caught my eye. I spun the steering wheel, screeching to a halt outside a large Regency-style mansion house, and I was up and out of the car before I could think twice, Zayde right there with me.
“Granville!”
James Granville turned around at my shout, annoyance crossing his face. “What do you want?”
In four strides I was in front of him, crowding him against the wall. He glared at me, pushing against my chest. “What the fuck, Cavendish?”
“I’m here with a warning. Stay away from Winter.”
He gaped at me. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly. If I even hear a rumour that you’ve tried anything on with her, you won’t like the consequences.”
“Yeah? What are you going to do?”
“How does a broken jaw sound?” Zayde’s tone was conversational, but his eyes were hard and icy.
“She belongs with us, not assholes like you. Don’t fucking forget it.” I shoved him, hard, in the chest, and he stumbled to the side, scrambling to get away from me.
“Alright, alright, I get it. She’s not worth the hassle.”
Bastard. I took a threatening step towards him, and the coward ran up the steps, fumbling in his pocket for his keys.
“Stay away from Lena, too,” Zayde shouted after him, as the door slammed shut. He turned to me, shaking his head. “You don’t want Winter, huh?”
“No.”
“Deluded fool.”
TWENTY
Saturday. Guy Fawkes. The day things took an unexpected turn.
The Four had talked me into going to the celebrations—well, Weston and Cassius had, anyway. All they’d tell me was that I didn’t want to miss the fireworks.
“So, what happens at one of these things?” I asked Kinslee, not for the first time. She was standing at the kitchen counter, mixing some kind of cocktail for us both.
She turned around, ice cube tray in hand. “I told you. Fireworks, a bonfire, and games.”
“I want to know what the games are. I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”
Kinslee shrugged. “I don’t want to spoil the fun. Last year was my first time, and it was all the better because I didn’t know what was going to happen. You’re going to love it, though, I guarantee. I wouldn’t be so insistent about you coming, otherwise.”
“I guess so.”
She handed me a glass brimming with ice. “Drink up. Then we can go.”
Our group of five girls from our apartment building crested the top of the hill and stopped. The castle stood out in stark relief, spotlights cycling through all the colours of the rainbow, lighting up the stones and casting long shadows across the clifftop. The castle itself and a huge area around it had been fenced off, and there was a gap with a queue of people waiting to enter, with two huge, bulky men dressed all in black scanning the barcode tickets on everyone’s phones as they passed. Thumping music vibrated through the air, warring with the sound of the waves far below crashing against the cliff, and generators hummed loudly near the perimeter.