Lexi had been staring at me the entire time, but I didn’t wanna talk too much. She didn’t deserve to get in deeper than she already was.
Leaning back on the couch, I decided to try and relax, but just as I did, I felt Lexi lean in closer. My eyes narrowed, and I shot her a questioning glance.
“What the hell you looking at so close?” I asked. I wasn’t being a dick, but she was almost on my lap as she tried to look at something on my neck.
Fidgeting with her black hair, she blushed. That only made me more curious.
“What?” I asked again and folded my arms across my chest.
A bony index finger pointed at the side of my neck. I scowled in confusion.
“That tattoo,” she answered with a guilty expression, her pixie face all innocent in her interest.
“Gonna have to be more specific,” I said and gestured to my upper chest, showing the fully covered inked skin above my black T-shirt, my full sleeves, and neck.
“That one,” she pushed again and pointed her finger closer. I gave her an incredulous look. She wasn’t exactly narrowing it down. I tried to think of what I had in that spot, but it could’ve been one of about fifteen things.
Her teeth clenched in annoyance, and she prodded at my neck with the tip of her painted-black fingernail. “That one! The one that says Heighters!”
My humor dropped. As did Lexi’s pissed-off expression, and she lowered her hand.
I remembered when I got that piece of ink. I was fourteen—the same age as Levi. I’d just sold my first teener of coke and was initiated into the crew. Gio’d ordered Matteo—his original right-hand man—to brand me. Right on my neck where everyone could see who I ran with. And the star—the stidda—on my cheek to show our crew’s Sicilian connection.
They were visible statements that I was a Heighter for life.
They’d hurt like a bitch, and, all the time the needle had been scratching at the skin, Axel had beamed a smug-looking grin at me. It was probably the proudest moment of his life, looking at his little bro joining the gang he found so sacred. His family. Matteo got killed in a drive-by shortly after, and that’s when Axel had been promoted, taking his place as Gio’s right-hand man.
Lexi’s light cough pulled me from the memory. I met her eyes once again and snapped, “You get ’em when you officially join the crew. And you never cover it up. You own it. Happy?”
Lexi stared down at her hands in reprimand. “I was just curious. I’ve never met anyone from a real-life gang before. It’s interesting to me.”
I almost spit blood at her words. “Word of warning. Never be curious about the f**kin’ Heighters. Gang life ain’t no picnic or a good tale for a little rich girl’s entertainment.”
Lexi’s painted lips parted at my comment, and her eyes narrowed, but, suddenly, voices sounded outside the summerhouse and beams from flashlights shone through the slits in the curtains at the windows. Instinct had me diving to the floor to hide behind the couch. Lexi let out a quiet squeal of panic at the cops being right outside, and, without thinking, I grabbed her arm, pulling her to the floor beside me. I quickly took us out of the path of bright moonlight and into the shadows, her body tucked in against mine, my hand slapping right over her mouth and my mouth at her ear.
“Keep quiet!” I growled in warning, and her stiff body relaxed into mine.
“Search the summerhouse!” someone ordered outside, and search dogs began barking just outside the door. Lexi’s hand suddenly reached out and landed on my thigh, her fingers gripping onto the denim of my jeans.
“Just stay quiet. The door’s locked. They got no reason to think anyone’s inside as long as there’s no noise and we stay here in the shadows,” I said in a barely audible tone.
Lexi’s head nodded in understanding.
“Try the door!” someone barked, and I recognized the voice of the dean. “He’s gotta be here somewhere. No way cocaine’s on campus and that damn criminal Carillo has nothing to do with it.”
I felt Lexi’s head tip up, and no doubt she was looking at me. But I didn’t look down. I was too f**kin’ pissed for that. I knew that cunt was gonna try and pin this shit on me.
Three years he’d been waiting for his chance.
Over a thousand days since he’d wanted me, the Italian trash, out of his school.
The doorknob began to rattle and lights flooded through the keyhole, narrowly missing where we lay. I pulled Lexi closer to me, making sure we were well inside the dark, her ass now flush against my dick under my jeans.
“Looks empty, sir,” a voice said to the dean, and I heard a loud sigh.
“He’s goddamn run. Carillo was at this party. We got witnesses that can place him here. Rome Prince is gone too. That’s no coincidence. They’ve probably split together. Where you find one, you find the other. Why a good kid like Prince runs with that piece of trash is beyond me.”
It took all I had not to blow out the door and snap his f**kin’ neck. I’d show him trash.
“What next, sir?”
“Have someone patrol the grounds until sunrise. If he tries to come back, we can question him then. The cocaine we found on the four students tonight came from the Heighters. I recognized the Sicilian star symbol on the packet. We had issues with that gang dealing drugs five years ago. Carillo’s the closest connection we got to them these days. Hell, for all we know, he’s the one distributing it, making some cash on the side.”
Leaning back on the couch, I decided to try and relax, but just as I did, I felt Lexi lean in closer. My eyes narrowed, and I shot her a questioning glance.
“What the hell you looking at so close?” I asked. I wasn’t being a dick, but she was almost on my lap as she tried to look at something on my neck.
Fidgeting with her black hair, she blushed. That only made me more curious.
“What?” I asked again and folded my arms across my chest.
A bony index finger pointed at the side of my neck. I scowled in confusion.
“That tattoo,” she answered with a guilty expression, her pixie face all innocent in her interest.
“Gonna have to be more specific,” I said and gestured to my upper chest, showing the fully covered inked skin above my black T-shirt, my full sleeves, and neck.
“That one,” she pushed again and pointed her finger closer. I gave her an incredulous look. She wasn’t exactly narrowing it down. I tried to think of what I had in that spot, but it could’ve been one of about fifteen things.
Her teeth clenched in annoyance, and she prodded at my neck with the tip of her painted-black fingernail. “That one! The one that says Heighters!”
My humor dropped. As did Lexi’s pissed-off expression, and she lowered her hand.
I remembered when I got that piece of ink. I was fourteen—the same age as Levi. I’d just sold my first teener of coke and was initiated into the crew. Gio’d ordered Matteo—his original right-hand man—to brand me. Right on my neck where everyone could see who I ran with. And the star—the stidda—on my cheek to show our crew’s Sicilian connection.
They were visible statements that I was a Heighter for life.
They’d hurt like a bitch, and, all the time the needle had been scratching at the skin, Axel had beamed a smug-looking grin at me. It was probably the proudest moment of his life, looking at his little bro joining the gang he found so sacred. His family. Matteo got killed in a drive-by shortly after, and that’s when Axel had been promoted, taking his place as Gio’s right-hand man.
Lexi’s light cough pulled me from the memory. I met her eyes once again and snapped, “You get ’em when you officially join the crew. And you never cover it up. You own it. Happy?”
Lexi stared down at her hands in reprimand. “I was just curious. I’ve never met anyone from a real-life gang before. It’s interesting to me.”
I almost spit blood at her words. “Word of warning. Never be curious about the f**kin’ Heighters. Gang life ain’t no picnic or a good tale for a little rich girl’s entertainment.”
Lexi’s painted lips parted at my comment, and her eyes narrowed, but, suddenly, voices sounded outside the summerhouse and beams from flashlights shone through the slits in the curtains at the windows. Instinct had me diving to the floor to hide behind the couch. Lexi let out a quiet squeal of panic at the cops being right outside, and, without thinking, I grabbed her arm, pulling her to the floor beside me. I quickly took us out of the path of bright moonlight and into the shadows, her body tucked in against mine, my hand slapping right over her mouth and my mouth at her ear.
“Keep quiet!” I growled in warning, and her stiff body relaxed into mine.
“Search the summerhouse!” someone ordered outside, and search dogs began barking just outside the door. Lexi’s hand suddenly reached out and landed on my thigh, her fingers gripping onto the denim of my jeans.
“Just stay quiet. The door’s locked. They got no reason to think anyone’s inside as long as there’s no noise and we stay here in the shadows,” I said in a barely audible tone.
Lexi’s head nodded in understanding.
“Try the door!” someone barked, and I recognized the voice of the dean. “He’s gotta be here somewhere. No way cocaine’s on campus and that damn criminal Carillo has nothing to do with it.”
I felt Lexi’s head tip up, and no doubt she was looking at me. But I didn’t look down. I was too f**kin’ pissed for that. I knew that cunt was gonna try and pin this shit on me.
Three years he’d been waiting for his chance.
Over a thousand days since he’d wanted me, the Italian trash, out of his school.
The doorknob began to rattle and lights flooded through the keyhole, narrowly missing where we lay. I pulled Lexi closer to me, making sure we were well inside the dark, her ass now flush against my dick under my jeans.
“Looks empty, sir,” a voice said to the dean, and I heard a loud sigh.
“He’s goddamn run. Carillo was at this party. We got witnesses that can place him here. Rome Prince is gone too. That’s no coincidence. They’ve probably split together. Where you find one, you find the other. Why a good kid like Prince runs with that piece of trash is beyond me.”
It took all I had not to blow out the door and snap his f**kin’ neck. I’d show him trash.
“What next, sir?”
“Have someone patrol the grounds until sunrise. If he tries to come back, we can question him then. The cocaine we found on the four students tonight came from the Heighters. I recognized the Sicilian star symbol on the packet. We had issues with that gang dealing drugs five years ago. Carillo’s the closest connection we got to them these days. Hell, for all we know, he’s the one distributing it, making some cash on the side.”
