Briar
I’m woken by a new message from Addy. I have to read it twice to get it through my sleep-fogged mind, and then I let out a dry laugh and collapse back on my bed.
I try calling the number, pissed off with this childish back-and-forth, but it goes straight to voice mail.
Her phone’s off.
So I call Marcus instead.
“You were right,” I say as I head downstairs to get a cup of coffee. “She wants money.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred kay.”
“Shit,” Marcus breathes into the phone. “You even got that kind of green laying around?”
“Jesus, no. How rich do you think we are?”
“Pretty fucking rich,” Marcus says, but it sounds as if he’s about to laugh.
“You think this is funny?”
“Dude, relax. If she wants money, it means she can be bought. Which means she’s probably willing to negotiate.”
“Didn’t sound like it. And anyway, what guarantee do I have she’ll get rid of that video? She could keep it and then pull this gig a month down the line.”
Marcus is quiet for so long, I glance at my phone’s screen to make sure we’re still connected.
“You there?”
“Yeah. Lemme think on it.” Marcus hangs up and I toss my phone onto the kitchen’s granite countertop.
I drum my fingers, waiting for Marcus to phone back, but by the time my cup’s finished, he still hasn’t.
Fuck this. I’m done having Addison Green fuck with my life. If her plan was to get a rise out of me, then it worked. But she seems to forget — keep poking at that tiger, and he might get pissed off enough to break open his cage.
And then you’d just better run like hell.
* * *
I stick aroundin the hall at Lavish Prep that morning, hoping to catch a glimpse of Addison, but I have a feeling she’s not gonna show up today.
Why should she? She’s got such a tight grip on my balls, she doesn’t even have to be in range to squeeze hard enough to make me puke.
I’m just about to head to homeroom when I spot a dark head bobbing through the crowd. If I hadn’t been so tall, I would probably have missed her — Indi being a few inches shorter than most of the seniors.
She spots me and instead of dropping her eyes or changing direction, heads straight over.
I lean my hip against my locker, a smug smile touching my mouth as she gets near. Strange how just the sight of her can change my mood.
“Morning, Angel,” I say.
Astonishingly, instead of giving me one of her usual death glares, she smiles. It’s a bit stiff, but it’s a fucking smile.
What the fuck?
“Morning.” She looks around, and then turns back to me and shrugs. “You seen Addy anywhere?”