Page 18 of Brutal Prince

“How can I forget when you’re constantly in my face about it?”

“You just seem out of focus, man, like you’re starting to have feelings for her.”

“I don’t have a degree in acting and I sure don’t have a natural bull-shitting talent like you, so I’m not finding this easy.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you signed up for the job,” he told me, now using the fork to scratch a spot on his shoulder blade.

I placed the cooked bacon a plate and proceeded to crack eggs in the hot oily, bacon-fatty pan. Ridge and Josh were hanging about waiting for their fix along with a couple of other guys. There’s only seven of us left now out of the original twelve. Adam Sweeney: Dead. Liam Greene: Dead. Jace Luxon: Vacated. Cody Harrington: Vacated. Cam Foreman: Dead.

Rumors were spreading that the house is cursed, but I completely dispute that. There’s nothing wrong with the house, only a serious problem with those who live within the walls.

Coach is freaking out that he keeps losing good players and the alumni are hard on the backs of the KVPD to find the culprit fast. They’ve tried to keep it all under wraps to avoid deterring new entrances, but media was very quick to pick up on Sweeney’s disappearance and it’s just blown up from there. It’s a major problem for the school considering that without funding from the wealthy this place will crash and burn.

“You fucked her the other night?” he asked.

“Yeah. So?”

“Just practicing for the real thing, eh?”

“I guess you could say that.” Fucker. I’m struggling to hide the fact that I generally like Gretta. It wasn’t part of the plan and Gretta is completely unaware of what the plan is. She just believes that Darryn and I are nice guys who are helping her hunt down the ringleader.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

Little did she know that there’s scheming on top of scheming so thick with scum, it’ll take a bulldozer to dig through it all. Even then, no one will likely know the truth. I’m not even sure what the truth is. Fuck, someone might have to spell it out for me someday.

The eggs crackled and popped smacking my skin with hot oil. That’s okay, I needed the punishment. My uncle and aunt didn’t raise me to be an asshole, especially to nice people, like Gretta.

“I reckon it’s Buchanan,” Ridge muttered as he walked into the kitchen holding his empty coffee mug with the words ‘Hot Daddy’ on the side. Josh slithered in behind him, his face still mangled after Harrington gave him facial reconstruction with a baseball bat. He deserved it. They all fucking deserved it.

“Buchanan?” Darryn inquired.

“Behind all the shit,” Ridge said. He didn’t need to explain, we knew exactly what he was talking about. “Fuck, I’ll be glad for the summer break, man. I’m over all the crap that goes on around here.”

We all grunted in agreement.

“You’re only assuming it’s Buchanan because he’s the president of the Snake and Chalice,” Darryn argued. “He might have nothing to do with Vanderbilt’s squalid little dealings.”

Darryn and I were fully aware that Det. Mathias spoke to Buchanan a while back when Liam was suffocated in his hospital bed, and she felt he was reasonably clean. However, she’s changed her tune and he’s been parked at the top of her suspect list.

“How can he be in charge of the society and know nothing?” Ridge hit back. “And why the fuck hasn’t that pissy little Vanderbilt been arrested?”

“Not enough proof,” I said.

“There’s more proof to sink a fucking battleship. I mean,” he turned to Josh who was being uncharacteristically quiet, “it was Vanderbilt that sorted that job for you.”

Josh barely acknowledged his comment, since that’s the reason he got his head beaten in. He needed drug charges to disappear in return he did a number on Jace Luxon. Ordered from the top. They obviously underestimated the strength of Luxon’s and Harrington’s friendship.

“Are you prepared to testify if it went to court?” Darryn asked Josh.

Josh hesitated, before answering, “Dunno.”

Someone’s got a hold over him. Maybe it’s Cody, maybe it’s the Snake and Chalice, either way he’s dead meat if he squeals.

I heard my phone beep under the sound of the sizzling eggs and checked the message: You know what you need to do.

Me: It’s been made crystal clear.

Immediately deleting the messages, I focused back on the fried eggs. Seven plates were lined up, two eggs for each plate and three strips of bacon, plus fried tomato and toast, if they need something extra. They should be paying me for this.

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