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“Motherfu—” I cut my annoyed curse off and tap my fingers against the side of the phone. “How did you get my number, you tricky devil?”
I wrack my brain, trying to think of the few people who have my number and where my cell is listed. There’s no way he weaseled it out of Gemma.
Knowing him, he probably invaded my privacy and nabbed it off the emergency contact form in my student file. Or he had his best friend, Connor Bishop, do the digging. I’ve heard that guy knows everything about everyone at school, trading secrets for favors and payment.
A huff of disbelief escapes me.
I should’ve known Devlin would be the kind of morally gray prick at ease with pilfering personal files for his own gain.
The question is, can I trust he’ll keep his word if I do this?
Eight
Devlin
Blair doesn’t answer my text right away. I hover at the edge of the soccer field with my water bottle in one hand and my phone in the other. Behind me, Bishop’s shouts to the guys become background noise as my attention zeroes in on Blair.
My head jerks with a snort.
Does she think she’s being subtle, sitting near the girls track team? She’s pathetic.
Her head is bent over, her hair creating a curtain of black as it falls around her face.
My eyes flick down to the screen, anticipating three dots popping up any second with her response.
After I bribed Bishop with a little mischief and the number of a Coyote Girl he wanted to steal from the football player she was dating, he gave me the password to unlock the current student files stored on the computer system. This morning during my office aid elective period, I found her cell number on a form for a field trip in sophomore year. With a smirk, I programmed her into my phone as Little Thief.
“Dev, quit slacking off,” one of my teammates calls.
I lift a brow in his direction and slowly bring my water bottle to my mouth, taking a long gulp.
He flips me off.
The phone buzzes, but it’s a message from my aunt letting me know dinner is at seven tonight.
What is taking so long? I squint at my phone and bounce my gaze between the screen and Blair. The task I set is hardly difficult. After the shit she pulled with my car, I could’ve plunged her into the deep end and paid her to run around school in her underwear. She should be thanking me.
As Blair begins to pack up her things and swipe grass from her skirt, I glare from the sidelines of the soccer field. I send another text.
Devlin: Or I could give my uncle a call. He’s pretty friendly with the Ridgeview police department. I’m sure they’d love to hear all about the security footage I have from the other night. Don’t forget the rules of this game.
It’s a bluff. I don’t actually have a security feed set up, though after Blair’s stunt I’ve been considering telling Dad we should take measures to protect the house as a precaution. The security patrol is clearly losing its touch if they can’t catch a mangy stray wandering in.
Devlin: I’m letting you off easy and paying you triple what I pay for homework from my usual guy.
I drift a few steps in Blair’s direction. The texts stopped her in her tracks. I can’t see her expression from here, but she glances around, body rigid. Blair rubs her forehead and drags her fingers through her hair.
My phone vibrates and the corners of my mouth curl up in victory.
Little Thief: Kk.
An amused sound huffs out of me. It’s essentially a fuck you. But she agreed.
Game on.
“Dev,” Bishop calls. He jogs over and claps my shoulder. “Man, let’s go. I don’t want to get up early again this week to make you practice a double. Friday morning was bad enough.”
Bishop leans his weight on me and moans dramatically. I shake my head, fighting back a smile. Bishop can always get me to smile with his antics.
