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I tried to twist away from Scout, but he wouldn’t let go, keeping himself frozen in place at the same time.
“That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it.”
“Cohen,” Clint warned.
“No, fuck you. You’re saying shit about my best friend. He’s like a brother to me, and he’s never screwed over a friend. He doesn’t have them for a reason. You wake up, dude. He could have a million friends, but does he? No. He has Alex and me. That’s it. I mean, there are guys he hangs out with at fights, but we’re it. We’re the only ones he lets in, and her—she’s in! I’m pretty sure he tells her things that even I don’t know, and I’ve known him almost all my life. Think on that. Just fucking think on that, Clint. You’ll realize how far up your own ass that you stuck your own pole. Yank it the fuck out, and see!” Cohen was almost yelling.
“Guys.” A hiss. Trenton. “Shut the fuck up. NOW!”
Everyone quieted.
Scout stepped around me, and we could hear footsteps coming down the alley toward us.
I started around him, but Scout yanked me back, herding me against the wall behind the corner. The other guys had all hidden.
A flash of headlights pulled down the alley, going slow.
It stopped.
A slight buzzing sound.
“Yo, man.”
“What’s up? You got my stuff?”
“Yeah, yeah. This what you wanted?”
“My man. You are awesome.”
A slapping sound. The slight buzzing sound again.
The headlights flashed and went down the rest of the alley, racing past us. Too fast to spot us.
“Shut up!”
The footsteps had started down the alley, but they paused at hearing one of my cousins. Then they started again. Going slow. Getting louder. Getting closer.
He appeared, and he was staring right at me. One of the fraternity brothers from Rho Mu Epsilon. I barely recognized him. He might’ve been the one making out with the girl, guarding the alcohol door, but his eyes bulged out. “What the fuck?”
Scout cursed.
The guy tore out of there, yelling, “We got company?”
“Scout, stop!” Cohen raced to get in front of him so he couldn’t go down the alley. “Think, man. He’s going for backup. You want to fight them here or in the street?”
Alex said, “Or how about we don’t fight them at all?”
No.
No.
I felt in a trance, stepping to the side, now clearly visible in the alley. They could see me, and they were looking. A group trickled out from the house at hearing their brother yelling. That guy stopped on the street, turning to point at me.
It was the guy who’d been hitting on me.
He wasn’t alone.
I felt a presence next to me, heard the slight scrape of a shoe on the gravel, and knew it was Clint. “Holy fuck.” His voice was low, disbelieving. “Is that?”
“Yes,” my voice scraped out. Because it happened, when a brother fraternity road-tripped to see another brother fraternity. I didn’t know why they were there, but they were.
“Guys,” Clint said. “They’ve got company.”
“Who?”
He stepped out from his own brothers, other guys that I recognized because I’d partied at their house, partied with the guy who I thought I’d loved at that time.
“Max’s brother. His real brother.”
69
SCOUT
Christ. The guy’s brother looked like all the typical douchebags I hated. Salmon-colored fucking shorts. A blue polo. The dickwad was an Easter egg. He had the thick square jaw that I loved breaking when guys like him used to step up to me, thinking they could best Kincaid Raiden’s kid. Jock. Muscle.
They were the ones who fell the fastest.
Maybe it was knowing who he was related to or the way he was staring at Ramsay. He looked ready to eat her up after fucking her in every hole and wanting her to resist it. Or, maybe it was because I just hated assholes like him.
I was going to break this kid’s jaw.
I stepped around them, knowing Cohen glanced my way.
Alex too, but he was distracted, keeping an eye on Ramsay and Clint because the Trouble Twins were out in effect. Ramsay wasn’t hiding. She wasn’t scared. I recognized the look in her eyes too. She wanted blood. Vengeance. She’d joined Clint in his need to cause mayhem.
“Ramsay Williams?” The brother came forward, sneering at her. “It is you.”
“Spencer.” Ramsay’s tone was so cold.
Spencer Prestige. Max Prestige.
I loathed their names. Fancy-ass, wealthy, privileged weasel dicks. These were the assholes my grandfather would’ve wanted me to befriend. Hell with that. They would’ve been beneath me. I didn’t even want to know how much worse the pricks would’ve been, the ones my grandfather would’ve chosen to be my friends.
“That’s her.” One of the frat guys was pointing at Ramsay. “And him. He came into the house to get her.”
Another guy stepped forward, bigger, older. Probably the one in charge of the house. “You’re the ones who ripped us off?”
