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“What?” I shout. “You can’t do that!”
Kingston’s eyes flare with anger. “Watch me.”
“It’s not your call, Kingston!”
He exhales harshly. “Look. I’m all for the right to bear arms. If you really want a gun because it makes you feel safer, then I’m okay with that. But we’re going to do it the right way. You’re going to learn how to safely handle a gun, and you’re going to have one that’s registered.
“I refuse to allow you to put yourself at risk by carrying around a loaded weapon that you have no idea what to do with. Especially an unmarked weapon. Christ, if a cop caught you with that thing, you’d be screwed. Do you have any idea how strict California gun laws are? Do you really think having a criminal record looks good when you’re trying to obtain custody? C’mon, Jazz. You’re smarter than this. I can’t believe that fucker let you go through with it.”
“For your information, he didn’t like the idea either, but unlike you, he allowed me to make my own decision because he knows I’m a big girl.”
“Jazz. You know I’m right. And you know I’m coming from a good place. I’m not saying you can’t have one. I’m just asking you to be smart about it. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you.”
I groan, resting my head on the breakfast bar. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”
“Thank you.” He places a kiss on the back of my head. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he pulls it out and says, “That’s John.”
I sit up.
“Yeah?” Kingston frowns at whatever the private investigator is saying. “When?” Now, he’s scrubbing a hand down his face. “Nothing on Gale yet?” His hazel eyes flicker to mine as he listens to John, becoming increasingly more agitated. I have a feeling whatever John came up with so far isn’t good. “Sounds good. Keep me posted.”
“What’d he say?” I pepper him with questions as soon as he hangs up the phone. “Did he find Lucas?”
Kingston shakes his head. “Not yet. But Christian Taylor was found dead in his dorm room this morning. They’re calling it a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
I gasp. “What?!”
“Yep. Police are saying it’s pretty cut and dry. Christian left a note.”
“Does John know what the note said?”
He gulps audibly. “Two words: I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry?” I repeat. “Sorry about what?”
“For participating in your assault? Cheating on his calculus test? Letting Peyton suck his cock? Who knows?”
“Holy shit.” When I glance up, Kingston has a bizarre look on his face. “What’s that look for? What are you thinking?”
His lips thin. “I think Christian’s suicide may have been a setup.”
“By who?”
“Any one of the major players? But my top suspect is my father.”
I frown. “What makes you think that?”
Kingston grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and takes a sip before handing it to me. “The video of my dad with Peyton. He said if Peyton’s lapdog—which all signs point to Lucas being that lapdog—went after you again, he’d pay. Even though Christian didn’t directly assault you last night, he was an active participant in Lucas’ plan. Knowing my dad, he’d consider that action a personal slight and seek revenge on all parties involved.”
“So... if that’s true... you think Lucas is next?”
Kingston nods. “Exactly.”
“But... isn’t your dad in Mexico for Christmas?”
“He is. And he flew commercial, so I know he’s actually there because John verified it. But he could’ve easily sent one of his goons on his behalf.” Kingston nods his head toward the window. “He was in the middle of the Caribbean when my mom died, remember?”
“I remember.” I sigh, looking out the window toward the pool area where his mom was found dead.
