Page 66 of Revenge At Raleigh High
“What?”
“From the Dreadnaughts. I’m on loan to Monty for the foreseeable. Apparently, I am the glue that’ll cement ties between Montgomery and the Dreadnaughts for good.” He flashes me a fake-ass grin in the mirror when he catches me glaring at him. “S’nice to be appreciated every once in a while. Monty told me he wanted me enrolled at Raleigh, so off I went and enrolled. The preppy get-up was his choice, too. He wants me to fit in. I’m supposed to make friends and report back on what I learn from them.”
I shake my head. “You? Make friends with Raleigh kids? Pssshhh.” I can’t imagine anything more ridiculous.
“Some chick, Winters, I think her name was…she was dealing coke for Monty on the quiet. Got banished to some stuffy prep school in Seattle. Now her Raleigh High clients have been bringing in their own supplies, trying to distribute them right under Monty’s nose. He wants to know exactly who’s trying to cut in on h—”
“Kacey Winters?” Cam says incredulously. “Kacey was dealingcocaineatschool?”
I’m equally surprised. I never saw Kacey at the Rock. Not once. The first time I met her was at Raleigh, long after I’d decided I needed to have Silver Parisi as my own. Monty’s never mentioned the girl’s name, not even when I wound up getting shot because of her. If Zander’s telling the truth, then obviously my boss isn’t being as up front with me as I’ve previously assumed.
Cam closes his eyes, shaking his head, as if the action will dislodge the information he just heard. “Look, I don’t really give a shit about the why of you being in that pool house. I don’t know who Q is, or who the new dealer is at Raleigh High, and I don’t particularly fucking care about any of that either. All I care about is Jacob Weaving. If you know where he is, then spit it out so we can finish what we started.”
Zander studies Cam blankly. After a long second, he leans forward, arms braced against the backs of our headrests, and whispers loudly to me, “This guy’s not important, is he? ’Cause he’s got collateral damage written all over him. I’ll willingly put money on him not lasting the night.”
“Zander, just sit back and button your mouth shut,” I snarl. “Cam’s Silver’s dad, and you’re lucky he didn’t just shoot you in the fucking head back there.You’reonly making it through tonight because he managed to pull back at the last second.”
“Hoo-rah. I’ll pin a medal of honor onto the fucker for not accidentally murdering me, then.”
Cam turns a bright shade of crimson. If he were a cartoon character, there’d be steam blowing out of his ears. “Pull over, Alex. I’ve changed my mind. Iamgoing to shoot him.”
“Just both of you, calm the fuck down. Tonight’s already a big enough mess as it is, and none of this is making it—”
DING!
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
DING! DING!
And again.
Another round of chimes fills the car, this time from someone else’s cell. Cam pulls his device out of his pocket at the same time I reach for mine. The car lights up as we both check our screens, and a thick, painful silence fills the vehicle. Never one to respect other people’s personal space, Zander peers over my shoulder.
“Looks like the infamous Silver Parisi’s been blowing you both up. There’s no reception up at the Weaving place. I always have to drive halfway to the Rock to find out what’s going on in the—”
Zander rambles on about cell phone reception. Cam and I both ignore him, trading a hard look. “Get to the house, Moretti,” he says. “Run every red. Mount the fucking curb. I don’t care what you have to do. Just get us there right fucking now.”
* * *
I know as soon as we come screeching into the Parisi’s driveway that we’re too late. The front door is yawning wide open into the night, the house in darkness. Silver’s Nova is sitting in the turning loop underneath the live oak where she always parks it. Icy, cold dread pools in my stomach. My heart, surging and pumping like some kind of manic, careening machine up until now, stutters to a jarring halt.
“Holy Mary, mother of God,” Cam hisses under his breath. He primes the gun in his hand, ripping at the door handle, trying to get out of the car, but he can’t seem to open the door. I don’t have the same problem. I’m out and tearing up the driveway so fast my feet struggle to keep up with the rest of my body.
“SILVER!” The door crashes against the wall as I fly through it. I haven’t seen the glass on the hallway floor. Skidding on the broken shards, I go down, landing hard on my side. Sharp diamonds, like teeth, bite into my forearm and my hand, stabbing through the material of my shirt.
The pain is quite something; I only manage to take a breath because I need it to scream Silver’s name again. “ARGENTO!”
No reply.
I find my feet. The house is silent as the grave as I hurtle through the ground floor, slamming my way through closed doors, through the living room, through the dining room, into the kitchen.
Empty.
The place is fucking empty.
“ARGENTO!” The walls and abandoned hallways echo with my roar as I hit the stairs, taking them four at a time. I check her bedroom first, hoping against hope that this is all some sick misunderstanding and the girl I love is sleeping in her bed, unaware of the fear that’s bleeding through my veins. Her bed is neatly made, though, the comforter undisturbed. Her clothes are folded neatly on the end of the mattress, ready to be put away…
“FUCK!”
