What was I thinking accepting a ride from Kingston this morning? I should’ve known better after what happened yesterday, but I was riding on such a high from seeing my sister when he mentioned it, I agreed without any regard for consequence. I need to put a stop to this. I need to distance myself from Kingston, no matter how pushy he is or how attracted I am to him. I pull out my phone when I get to my desk and surreptitiously text Ainsley, asking for a ride home. I sigh in relief when she immediately agrees.
With that settled, I open my Chromebook and notebook, ready to begin class.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JAZZ
On my way to lunch, I stop in the ladies’ room to relieve my aching bladder. After doing my business and washing my hands, I’m just about to head into the dining hall when three snobby bitches saunter in, claws ready to lash out. No, make that... five... seven... ten. As the last one enters, she locks the door behind her. I recognize a few of them from classes we share, but not some of the younger looking ones.
Shit.
No matter how scrappy I can be, ten-to-one odds aren’t good for anyone.
I paste false bravado on my face as I address Peyton, the obvious ringleader of this little confrontation.
“What do you want, Peyton?”
“Hmm, now isn’t that a loaded question?” she muses, tapping her chin in thought. “Well, for starters, I’d like you to drop dead just like your mommy.”
Her words rob me of breath. It doesn’t surprise me that she would use my mother to hurt me, but it definitely has the intended effect. I can’t let that distract me though—I need to get the hell out of this bathroom.
I sigh in mock boredom. “Look, Peyton. I’m not really in the mood to deal with you and your merry band of bitches. Why don’t you just say what you came in here to say and we can all be on our way?”
She smiles coldly. “Now, where’s the fun in that?”
My phone buzzes from the pocket inside my blazer. I’m sure it’s Ainsley wondering where the hell I am, but I’m not going to risk taking my attention away from Peyton to check.
“I don’t have time for this.” I roll my eyes and start walking forward, deciding to just push through them.
“Not so fast, slut,” Peyton sneers. “Too bad your precious kings aren’t here to protect you now, isn’t it?”
Each girl moves in freakish harmony to form a human wall. On the inside, my nerves are frayed but I do my best to project a cool surface.
I scoff. “I don’t need them to protect me.”
“I think you’ll be singing a different tune by the time we’re done with you. Unless...”
“Unless what?”
My phone is vibrating like crazy now.
“Unless you stay away from Kingston,” she replies. “We’ll let you walk out of here if you promise you won’t go near him ever again.”
“And Bentley,” Whitney adds.
“And Bentley,” Peyton echoes.
I meet her hate-filled gaze dead on. “What are you going to do if I don’t? Beat me up? Break my nose, maybe? An eye for an eye? Is that it?”
I know I’m about to get my ass kicked, but I’m sure as fuck not going down without a fight. I curl my hand into a fist, positioning my thumb over the first two fingers.
A genuine grin stretches across her face. This psycho is actually enjoying this. “It’s a good place to start.”
The bathroom door starts jiggling, someone’s fists pounding on the other side. “Jazz, are you in there?”
Oh, thank fuck. Ainsley can get a janitor to unlock the door. Hopefully I can hold these chicks off until then.
“I’m locked in—” I start to scream.
“Jazz?” Ainsley repeats, panic evident in her voice. “Are you okay?”
Peyton lunges for me, knowing her window is closing, but I dodge her punch.
“Grab her arms, you idiots!” she screams.
It takes four girls to properly restrain me but when they finally do, Peyton bitch slaps me across the face before she punches me right in the stomach, forcing me to double over. Damn it, that hurt. She must have been watching YouTube videos on how to properly throw a punch.
As I’m gasping for breath, the door slams open, several girls grunting as they’re jostled forward violently. Unfortunately for me, their forward momentum causes my head to slam into the wall.
I groan as spots flicker before my eyes. “Jesus.”
I glance toward the doorway and see Kingston, Bentley, and Reed, each staring at the girls with pure fury in their gaze.
“Get out,” Kingston says without any inflection whatsoever. I don’t know why, but his quiet tone makes him seem even more dangerous.
The crowd scurries as all three guys step into the bathroom. Before Peyton can get away, Kingston steps in her path.
“I’ll deal with you later,” he promises.
Peyton blanches. “Baby, it’s not what it looks like. I—”
Kingston’s fists clench as he takes a step toward her. “Save it, Peyton. Get the fuck out of my face before I do something that can’t be undone.”
Her eyes widen before she too, runs out the door.
I flinch when Kingston approaches me and gently runs a finger over my cheek. He frowns as he inspects what I’m sure is a Peyton-sized handprint.
“You okay?” he asks.
My head aches and I feel bruised where Peyton hit me, but other than that, I’m okay.
“Yeah.” I sigh when he places a soft kiss right between my eyebrows. “How’d you get the door unlocked?”
Bentley shakes a key ring. “Master keys. I’ve had these babies since freshman year. They come in handy when you want to fool around in an empty classroom or closet.”
I have no words for this sex-crazed fool.
“Oh my God, Jazz, are you okay?” Ainsley runs into the room, pushing her brother aside. “What the hell happened?”
“They cornered me,” I say. “How’d you know where to find me?”
Ainsley and Kingston share a look before he says, “I installed a tracker on your phone.”
My jaw drops. “You what?!”
He raises an eyebrow. “It proved to be useful, didn’t it?”
I narrow my eyes. “But that doesn’t explain why you did it.”
“Baby girl, let’s not worry about Kingston’s stalker tendencies right now.” Bentley pulls me into a side hug. “We all know you’re not going to get an answer until he’s ready to give you an answer. What do you say we ditch the last few classes? We’ll grab an ice pack for that beautiful cheek of yours and I’ll buy you a big, greasy burger at In-N-Out.” As if on cue, my stomach growls, making him laugh. “See, your stomach likes this idea.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “But only because I’m hungry.”
“I wanna come,” Ainsley says. “Jazz, you can ride with me.”
Bentley glances at Ainsley. “I think Jazz should ride with me. You can take Reed.”
Rich kid problems: driving fancy sports cars that only have two seats.
“Okay.” Ainsley looks at Kingston. “You coming, bro?”
Kingston’s eyes haven’t left me yet. “No. I have something to take care of. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” He steps into me again and presses his forehead to mine. It’s a surprisingly intimate gesture—one I have no idea how to respond to. “Give us a minute.”