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“Then, ask your parents about it.”
While I wanted to get him angry—because fuck him; he was getting too close to my girl—I also wanted to use him to get closer to his family. He might not want to get involved, but he was knee fucking deep in this shit.
His family were monsters.
“I have to go,” he said, yanking open his car door and collapsing into the driver’s seat.
When he slammed the door and started the car, I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked to my motorcycle. Maybe that would get him motivated to stop his parents too.
He sped out of the parking lot and down the road. I slid onto the back of my bike and pulled on my helmet, wanting to follow him but deciding that it would be best to head to Landon’s place instead. We still needed to install the new locks and security cameras.
Just as I started my bike, Akio came speeding back into the parking lot. He pulled up next to me, rolled down his window, and threw me a package. “I forgot to give this to you. Imani asked me to find João’s sister some medication. Don’t lose it. It’s the last few bottles that our pharmacy had in stock.”
And with that, he took off again, out of the parking lot and in the direction of his home.
I stared down at the medication in my hands. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips, but I pushed it away and shoved the package inside my backpack. Then, I kicked up the kickstand and drove off school grounds toward Landon’s house.
I cut through a couple main streets, passing some cars going a bit too slow, rounded the corner that led to the Overlook, then headed down some back streets toward the slums. Less traffic than usual was out today, and I was fucking thankful. It was too damn cold for this shit.
On the street before Landon’s, I spotted Imani’s car parked on the side of the road with a dark black SUV with flashing red and blue lights parked behind her. My stomach tightened, and I pulled up next to Imani and shut off the bike.
The guy in the car eyed me, his gaze hard. I stared back at him and shook my head. To anyone else, this would’ve looked like a cop making a traffic stop. But this wasn’t a cop, not even an undercover one.
After Dad had died, I had memorized every single face that belonged to a Redwood police officer. I had made regular surveillance stops by the police station to check which cars were pulling in and out daily. This wasn’t one of them. I was certain.
