Page 118 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
Slater had better not take too long. The scent in this place was wearing on my patience. It was a mixture of chlorine, sweat, and old sterilizing chemicals.
“Three days?”
That’s what I said.
“I can’t believe you didn’t say anything.” Ravi shook his head and leaned back against the wall on the other side of the door. “If I was Slater, I’d be pissed.”
Oh, Slater was plenty pissed. He was just good at putting up a front. But I saw the anger tightening in his jaw. Slater was the kind of guy who was quiet until he wasn’t. That was when he got dangerous. Losing control could mean punching in someone’s skull. Unfortunately for Slater, he had his father’s temper.
None of the Zen, yoga bullshit worked. There was only one thing that calmed Slater down. Victory. Whether it was football or breaking in some chick, Slater played to win. I didn’t really like the guy, but I respected that part of him.
“Are you sure about what you saw?”
I was insulted by that question. Ravi knew me better than that. “Would I have said anything if I wasn’t?”
“Alright.” He nodded. “We’ll just have to take care of her like we did Kathy.”
Poor naive Ravi.
“You assume I’ll hand over the info.”
His eyes rolled up to mine. “Why wouldn’t you?”
That was a question I would answer with one of my own. “Why didn’t you tell me about Georgia?”
He knew the night before. I could’ve ruined her in the cafeteria before my dad initiated shit.
“You’re fucking kidding?”
Did I look like I was kidding?
“You can’t punish my brother for something I did.”
“I think I can.” Did he just meet me? I was a petty son of a bitch. I always had been.
“If you’re not going to give him any details, then why tell him at all?”
That was a fair question.
“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to give it to him.” But he would have to earn it.
Before Ravi could question my motives, the door to the locker room opened.
Slater stepped out, pulling a hoodie over his head.
“Alright.” His eyes locked on me. “What do you know?”
His relaxed smugness from earlier was gone, replaced by a sharp edge to his jaw. Slater was doing a good job of pretending to be calm and cool, but little things gave him away. Rolled back shoulders, tense muscles, and gritted teeth.
Apparently the golden boy athlete didn’t like his dose of reality. I got a sick satisfaction out of that. I was being forced to claim my bride, and no matter how many girls we ruined, one day the other guys would be forced to claim theirs. The Society always got what they wanted.
Always.
“Not here.” I tipped my chin at the overhead camera in the corner of the ceiling.
There was always someone watching. We couldn’t risk my father or someone from The Society overhearing us.
Slater gave me a tight nod. “Basement?”
