I stand up and turn to him. "With my fucking life," I swear.
He nods as if the answer was expected. It should've been. "Then trust me when I say, laying off of her for the time being is a good plan. If you're worried, I'll have the three of us transferred to the rest of her classes to keep an eye on her, but I don't think we're going to find anything."
"You don't think she's working for the old men?" I ask. Maybe that's it, I wonder. Is that what she'd come here for? As a test? Those fuckers...
"No." Abel's already shaking his head. "I don't think she's ever even met them."
"Why would they be so interested in her then?" I point out, but I know the answer. The answer's in the file. It's because of who she might be. I curse and wave my hand. "Never mind," I say. "You're right. She's probably not working for them. Besides, she’s still technically in high school. What would a high school girl do?"
Abel levels me with an exasperated look, his eyes dull and his lips pressed together before he heaves a sigh. "You know as well as I do, that anyone can cause damage. I'm not saying underestimate her. I'm just saying, she's probably not with them."
I think about it. "Fine," I say. "Transfer us. We've had Raz and Eli on duty, but she requires more personal attention. At least until she can be trusted."
His brows arch up. "You think that'll ever be the case?"
I don't know what to think when it comes to her. All I know is that my dick takes on a life of its own whenever she's in the room. She thought I was threatening to rape her? Ha. It wouldn't be rape. That’s one thing I wouldn’t do. She might say no, but her body would say yes. I'd make her beg for me even if she hated me.
Whether it's for my money or for what I can give them in the bedroom, they all do eventually.
To Abel, I say, "Just do it. We'll find out." Then I turn and leave the garage and let my thoughts overtake themselves. The funny thing is … they all revolve around a fat-assed brat with dark hair and eyes the color of a stormy sea.
27
Avalon
I'm being followed, and I can't tell what's more annoying—the fact that it's happening or the fact that they're not even trying to hide it. Had I known that this is what Abel meant when we made that deal three weeks ago, I might've turned it down. I’ve been doing my best to ignore it, but it’s hard to completely pretend like Dean’s eyes aren’t trailing me everywhere I go. Half the time, I can’t tell if he wants to fuck me or kill me. His expression rarely changes. I might not mind the idea of fucking him so much if he didn’t act like he was so much better than me. Rich or not, I’m sure we both bleed red, and I’m more than willing to see if he does.
Every time I go to the cafeteria, I see either one or all of them—and if it's not them, it's one of their football buddies. Rylie has noticed as well, but she just shakes her head and doesn't comment. And since I'm unwilling to approach them, Corina seems to be the only one willing to give me some answers.
"Do an online search," she suggests as she stuffs a leaf of dressing covered lettuce in her mouth. "I can promise you they're on there."
"Already have," I say, glancing over my shoulder.
"And?" She spears a tomato. "What'd you find?"
I shoot her a look. "You know exactly what I found," I snap. A fuck ton. A quick search on each of their names had brought up an extensive history. Old celebrity girlfriends. Net worth in the millions for each of them individually, and that's with the fact that none of them have even inherited their families' corporations yet. When that happens, it'll skyrocket even more, I’m sure. I knew they were loaded, but this … is more than just wealthy. They’re filthy, stinking rich. At least now I know why everyone at Eastpoint practically worships the ground they tread on.
"Then what do you want me to tell you?" she asks.
"Everything the search engine didn't," I reply.
She shrugs. "Well, they're on the football team. Have you gone to a game yet?"
"What information would that get me?" I ask with a scowl. I've never gone to a football game in my life and living in the South, it had definitely been difficult to avoid. To not like football in America is practically a sin.
Corina's laugh catches the attention of a few spare jocks lingering nearby. They pass us, carrying trays to the conveyor belt, eyeing her as they go. She flicks a strand of hair off her bare shoulder and gives me a sultry look. "Listen, sweetcheeks," she says, "if you really want information on them just do to them what they're doing to you." She leans forward and I can see the guys out of the corner of my eye, practically salivating as she almost bursts out of her tube top.
I stare blandly into her face. "And what's that?" I deadpan.
"Flip the script," she says. "Follow them."
I scoff, but it's not a bad idea. I'm still considering it when jock one and jock two finally decide to make their move.
"Hey, Corina." Jock number one moves in first, flashing a million watt smile as he hooks an arm over the back of Corina's chair.
She looks up. "Oh, hey, Chad," she says, fluttering her eyelashes.
I struggle to contain my eyeroll. Of course his name is Chad. Classic douche name for a classic douche looking guy.
“Been a while since we’ve seen you,” Jock number two says, coming up on her other side.
She laughs delicately, and I watch as she turns towards one, her chest thrusting out as number two practically salivates into her cleavage. Some guys can be accused of being players, but if ever there were a girl player—she’d be it. “I’ve just been so busy with school lately,” she says with a pout. “My professors are so mean this semester. None of them are willing to give me extensions on my papers.”
“Awww, that sucks,” Chad says, but he looks like he couldn’t care less what she’s saying and is more interested in other things her mouth could do.
Corina flicks a look my way and grins. “Have you guys met my friend, Avalon?”
Chad and Jock number two stiffen at the sound of my name and when Corina waves her hand my way, I watch their heads turn as if pivoting on spikes. “Uh, no, can’t say we have,” Chad says.
“Oh, well, let me introduce you. Avalon, this is Chad and Brock. They play on Eastpoint’s basketball team.”
I scowl at her.
“Hey,” Jock number two—Brock—is the only one who manages to raise a hand and acknowledge my existence.
Chad, on the other hand, completely ignores me as he focuses on Corina. “We’re going out to the warehouse district tonight,” he tells her. “You thinking about going too?”
“The warehouse district?” She frowns and shakes her head. “No. I’ve got a test tomorrow and Professor Habersham is an ass. He’s not even grading on a curve.”
“Well, if you change your mind…” He lets his suggestive statement trail away as he slips his arm back from her shoulders and straightens up.