“You know this has only begun,” Uri says. “It is time to make them Hush. I will handle it from here. It is time the hitters step in.”
“Yeah, but not before everyone around here comes clean,” LaSalle says as looks in Misha’s direction.
Misha looks at his nails and ignores LaSalle as he picks his fingernails with one of his blades. LaSalle shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about answer you need from her.” Misha points his blade at me.
As he does, his words seal my fate and I accept what they mean. This is who I’ve always been. This is what Val really saw, what that little boy Sammy meant by yes to all.
At once, Tasha, Val, and I move to the center of the room, revealing the powerhouse we are. The links that have been moving together all this time. I look them in the eyes one by one and nod. We then turn to LaSalle.
“It looks like you have your general. I’m claiming my seat at the table.”
Epilogue
Come to Collect
Weston
Fourteen years later…
Jordan Black is the prettiest girl in school. She’s also the smartest and the nicest. She’s never makes me feel dirty or poor like the other kids.
“Get out of the way, spaz,” one of the older kids snarls as he pushes me into the lockers.
One of these days I’m going to be strong and I’m going to kick all of their asses. I hate them all, all except for Jordan. I smile as I watch her in the courtyard of our school, surrounded by her friends.
Friends that would never welcome me into their conversation, let alone their space. That’s why I’m waiting. My hands are growing sweaty as I watch them and pray she comes this way soon.
My heart begins to race when she turns my way and smiles. I slowly smile back, not sure if she’s smiling at me at first. When she waves, my heart feels like it might explode.
Looking around to see if she’s waving at someone else, I smile wider when I turn and wave back. She turns to her friends and says something before she grabs her backpack and starts over toward me. I lick my dry lips and start to fidget with my shirt sleeves.
It’s pretty hot for the long sleeves, but I have my reasons for wearing them. I tug at the front of my shirt and wiggle a little as the fabric and sweat stick to my body. Being nervous isn’t helping my situation.
Then she stops a foot away with that bright smile on her pretty face. Her golden eyes light up with it. She’s so pretty. Her springy dark curls are thick and frame her heart shaped face. Her brown skin glows like polished bronze and she always smells so nice.
I’m already six feet tall so I tower over her at what’s probably five feet. I love the way she looks up at me. I’ve imagined so many times holding her hand as we walk the hallways.
“Hey Weston,” she says and all I can do is stand here like an idiot.
I wipe my hands on my jeans and her gaze drops to the action. Her lashes are so long they fans across her cheeks. Cheeks that have been losing the chubby plumpness they had when we were in elementary.
She reaches into the pocket of her backpack and pulls out a pack of tissues and holds them out to me. “My palms get sweaty sometimes too. Mom always gives me a couple of packs of these. Here, you can have these,” she says when she holds them out and looks back up to meet my eyes.
I reach out nervously and take them. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“Um… I was waiting for you. Our science project. Um… We’re supposed to work on it together.”
“Oh right,” she says, her eyes growing wide. “I totally forgot about that. The flood in the library made it slip my mind. I’m headed to my family’s office. We can work down in the gym if you like.”
“Um… I can’t. I’m supposed to head straight home after school.” I don’t mention that I’m already late and hope to God I get there before I get into trouble.
“Oh, no problem. I’ll call my mom. She should be cool with me coming to your place to work. After all, this thing is due at the end of the week,” she says and rolls her eyes.
I go to tell her that’s a bad idea, but the thought of spending time with her causes me to keep my mouth shut. I look around for her cousins. None of them are in sight. They’re never dicks to me like some of the other kids, but they aren’t what I would call my friends either.
The Blacks have a clique of their own. They’re the cool kids on campus and the guys will kick your ass for fucking with one of their girl cousins or sisters. I’m not in the mood to get my ass kicked today.
Jordan follows my gaze and giggles. “Don’t worry. The guys already took off for the gym at Black and Lock. It’s training day for the boys with Uncle Noah. Come on. I’ll text my mom. She said it’s fine. I just have to text her your address,” she says.
I nod and take her phone to enter the address. I know I’m skating on thin ice. I’ll have to get us to my house soon and we’ll have to work fast before my dad gets home.
I start for the bus stop, but Jordan places an arm on mine to stop me. She gives me that bright smile again, nodding her head toward the parking lot. My dick twitches in my pants from her simple touch and I can feel the heat in my cheeks.
“I have a ride. My driver, Shep, is waiting for me. Come on.”
Oh yeah, I forgot that all the Blacks have cars at their beck and call. Some of the older ones drive their own cars to school. The others arrive in SUVs and shiny expensive cars.
Every time I see them come to school it reminds me that I’ve only been in their world because of a scholarship. A scholarship that gets my ass kicked almost daily and not only by the kids at school who hate having me here.
I’m a lot smarter than I look. Or at least that’s what my father says. My mother took a chance when my kindergarten teacher told her to have me tested. I’ve been getting a free ride to places like this ever since she did.
When we walk to the shiny Mercedes and the driver opens the door for us, it’s one more reminder of how far out of my league Jordan is. She’s gorgeous, super smart, and rich. At fifteen, Jordan is a grade ahead. Yeah, I’m smart, but I’ve never been skipped a grade.
I slide into the back of the car beside her thinking that in all my sixteen years, I’ve never been inside a car that cost anywhere near this much. Turning, I watch Jordan put lip gloss on her full lips. When she turns those amazing eyes on me, I don’t feel like the bummy kid at school.
It’s like Jordan sees more. She sees me. That’s one of the things I love about her.
“Stop looking so nervous, Weston,” she says with a small giggle. “I promise not to ruin the project. I plan to do my share. I’m not like those slackers in our class.”
“I know. I don’t think you’re going to slack.”
“Honestly, I was so glad you were assigned as my partner. Swear to God, if I would have gotten one more assignment with a partner that did nothing but pick their nose the entire time while I did all the work, ugh,” she says with a grimace.
The way her little nose wrinkles is adorable. I wish I could lean in and kiss her. I’ve daydreamed about it so many times over the years. Each year Jordan becomes prettier and prettier.