Page 173 of Satan's Spawn
“Crayton, when the hell will you learn?” My father hisses. “You can’t go around punching every person who pisses you off.”
Oh, how much more tolerable the world would be if I could.
“It’s fine, Mr. Shaw.” Archer appears at my side, still laggy. “I provoked him.”
Why the hell is good guy Archer covering for my ass?
My gaze tightens on him, and he silently tells me to go along with it. So I do.
I pull him into my side, resting my arm around his shoulder. “See, we’re besties again.” I rustle his hair with my knuckle, and Archer slaps my hand away.
Saint wraps his arm around Archer’s other shoulder, pulling out his charming smile that woe’s the ladies. “Just a misunderstanding between peers, Pops one and two. Go get yourselves another drink.”
The both of them look between the three of us, and reluctantly turn to head back to the bar.
“Start talking, Beaumont,” I grit out, ripping my arm off him.
“How about a damn ‘Thank you’ for not fucking you over?”
“I’m not punching you, am I?”
Archer rolls his eyes. “I told Bex not to go with them, that Felix and his friends are players and she especially shouldn’t trust him. But she was too mad at you to think clearly. Said something like ‘Can’t be any worse than the games Crayton plays’.”
“Them?” Saint growls. “Who the fuck is ‘them’?
“Felix and Stevenson. They took off with her and Hendrix.”
I let out an aggravated breath. “He took them to the Pit?”
Archer nods. “Bex told me not to follow, that she had Hendrix and they’ll be fine.”
At least my Little Ghost is smart enough to keep a girlfriend by her side.
But that snake will for sure find a way to get rid of Hendrix. He’s thirsty for revenge and for Rebecca, and he will stop at nothing to get a taste of both.
“You shouldn’t have let her fucking go.” I push past him, and Saint follows, his shoulders as rigid as mine.
“Hold on, I’m coming too!” Archer bellows out from behind us, causing Saint to spin on his heels.
“Stay the fuck here and keep an eye out. Make sure nobody sees us.” He says, his orbs glistening with rage.
“But…”
“But nothing you dick,” He spits, adding, “you’re the one who let them both disappear with the sleaziest motherfucker in this school.”
Archer looks as apologetic as Steve Harvey did when he announced the wrong winner for Miss America.
Which is likely the reason he listens, knowing me and Saint stand a hell of a better chance at going toe to toe with fucker Felix than he ever would.
30
BEX
“Here, have a beer.” Felix smiles and hands me a bottle I don’t recognize. Probably some hoity-toity brand the lesser folks aren’t cool enough for.
I try my hardest not to seem scorned as I take the drink from him. After all, he was nice enough to risk trouble sneaking into the girls bathrooms to comfort me, and then offer me an escape without anyone seeing.
“Thanks, Felix.” My lips curve the slightest bit to show appreciation.
