Page 20 of The Ruthless Note

My twin rolls his eyes. “Maybe I got it from Christa.”

“Christa?” I scoff.

“And if she has it, that means good old Dutch has it too.”

“You’re not serious, right? You’re still messing with Christa after everything?” Finn asks.

“No, but maybe I should.” Zane wiggles his eyebrows. “Now that Dutch broke her heart and Brahms got her arrested, I can take advantage of her frail emotional state. After all she’s been through, she’s bound to make some bad decisions.”

“Messing with you certainly counts.” Sol stabs Zane with his elbow.

“You don’t mind, right, Dutch?”

I scoff at my twin. He’s unbearable when he’s hungover, but he’s extra obnoxious today.

“I don’t care what you do with Christa. Just don’t be late for practice. We agreed to do that November Bash for Bex Dane. We gotta tighten up our set.”

Zane flips me off. “Slave driver.”

I ignore him and keep walking.

Inside Redwood, the mass of bodies standing between us and the end of the hallway is thick.

Eyes follow us the moment we step through the doors. The whispers are especially loud today. Thanks to Jinx’s stupid app, questions about my relationship with Brahms are popping up all over the place.

Damn.

I missed when that creep was just selling information to a chosen few. This ‘free the secrets’ strategy is getting on my nerves.

“Damn, this is creepy,” Sol says under his breath.

Finn arches a brow.

Sol gestures to the kids staring at us. “The way they all make room. The way they look at you. In the real world, people don’t give a damn who your parents are. It’s weird as hell to come back to Redwood and remember it’s different here.”

“You’ll get used to it again.” Zane nestles his head close to Sol’s. “You’re one of us. You don’t have a choice.”

I scan the hallway looking for Brahms.

She should be here by now, but I don’t see her by her locker.

A group of cheerleaders sashay toward us, temporarily blocking my view. When they get close, the scent of heavy perfume and spray tans is nearly overwhelming.

Christa’s second-in-command stops me with a hand on my arm. She’s a chirpy brunette with one of those over-eager smiles and the personality of a plastic bag. I couldn’t remember her name if it was tattooed on her forehead.

I glance down at her. “What?”

She bats her eyelashes and presses her body to mine. It feels good, even if it’s slightly annoying to have a complete stranger cling to me.

I allow it because this chick and I haven’t hooked up before. Christa kept a tight handle on her closest friends. The cheerleaders who did approach me, all did so in secret for fear that Christa would blacklist them from the team.

But now that Christa’s lost her power…

“Hey, Dutch.” Plastic Bag bats her eyelashes and licks her lips suggestively. “I’m throwing an underground jazz party this Friday night. You and your brothers are welcome to come.” She tightens her grip on me, her nails skating over my pants. “We can get to know each other better.”

“I’ll think about it.”

She backs away slowly, still shooting waves and waves ofI want to screw your brains outwith her sultry eyes.

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