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So that means our first and best lead for tracking down any evidence to use against the judge lies with my favorite person in this whole damn school.
Savannah.
“God, I was really hoping to see less of her this semester, not more,” I mutter to Linc as the kings and I head down the corridor toward my locker.
The four of them are flanking me protectively, as if they expect Judge Hollowell to have spies inside the school who might come after me at any moment.
He huffs a low laugh. “After what Trent told us about her, I’m sure she feels the same way. You’ve got way more shit on her than she has on you.”
“Yeah. Amazingly, that doesn’t make her less of a bitch though.”
He rolls his eyes in agreement as we round the corner and the queen bitch herself comes into view.
Savannah looks like a model, with long red hair that’s always carefully styled to seem like it isn’t styled. She’s got pouty lips, big blue-green eyes, and a perky rack, and she uses all three of those things like weapons—like tools to get what she wants.
Which, apparently, is still Trent.
I wondered if she’d break up with him after he blabbed all her secrets to the guys when they hauled him out behind a nightclub downtown and beat the crap out of him. It still turns my stomach to think of it, but I have a hard time mustering much pity for Trent, knowing he’s the one who assaulted me after a poker game at the warehouse.
“Guess she forgave him,” I mutter under my breath as the guys and I walk past Savannah, who’s rubbing up against Trent like a horny cat as he leans against the bank of lockers.
“Or, more likely, decided she’s not done using him,” Dax corrects with a snort.
He’s probably right. Trent started dating Savannah just a few weeks after Iris died, and from the very beginning, it seemed more like a mutually beneficial power move than a relationship based on actual feelings.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they’re fucking, but it’s not like they actually care about each other or anything.
They both look up as we pass, and Savannah practically hisses at me. I swear I can see literal hackles rising on her back. I’ve still got a good amount of blackmail material on her, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough to stop her from coming after me—or if she’ll just get more devious about it.
Trent’s reaction is almost the complete opposite of Savannah’s. Instead of looking pissed, he looks scared. He straightens a little, pushing the redheaded cheerleader away from him and licking his lips nervously as the four guys surrounding me stare him down. I can see his fingers twitch nervously, like he’s not sure if he should form fists or not.
Principal Osterhaut has made it clear that he has a zero-tolerance policy for fights on school ground though, so I wrap my hand around Linc’s bicep in warning, shaking my head slightly when he glances at me.
“Don’t worry, Low.” His lips quirk up in a dangerous smile. “We’ll just keep him busy while you chat with Savannah.”
God, I hope they can keep their shit together.
I don’t think any of them intended to go after Trent so hard at the club, but when they realized what he’d done to me, they just sort of snapped.
Giving his arm one more squeeze, I affix him with my most serious glare, and he surprises me by leaning over to kiss me.
River’s shoulder is brushing my other side, and Chase and Dax are standing close behind us. Everyone at Linwood knows we’re all close—they see us together all the time—but this is the first time I can remember that Linc has kissed me at school. Especially like this, with his boys standing so close, all hovering around me protectively as if they’ve laid claim to me too.
They have.
But I’m not sure everyone here knows it.
Or knew it.
Savannah’s eyes fly open wide, then narrow quickly as her gaze travels down to where River’s fingers are loosely tangled with mine. She looks like she just swallowed something unpleasant, and when we walk closer to her and Trent, she stiffens just like her boyfriend did.
Linc steps forward, jerking his chin at her. “Savannah. Harlow needs a word with you.”
“What?” She scowls, the fear I saw for a moment vanishing under a fresh wave of disdain. “Why the hell would I want to talk to that skank?”
Chase and Dax both make angry noises in their throats, and I feel River tense beside me. They’ve warned Savannah before about laying off me—multiple times—but she doesn’t seem to remember the message.
“Because if you don’t talk to her,” Linc says smoothly, keeping his voice low and almost pleasant. “She’ll have to go find other people to talk to. About other things.”
