Page 39 of Cruel Prep (Princes of Ravenlake Academy 1)

I wipe myself off with the towel and hurl it into my laundry basket. Then I get up, get dressed, and go downstairs.

My father calls my name as I pass. I ignore him. I’ve had enough of King William Foster today, thank you very much.

Instead, I grab my car keys and keep going out the front door.

It’s a short drive to J.C.’s house. I honk when I get there.

J.C. strolls out of his parents’ brand-new multimillion-dollar McMansion with his hands in a clearance rack hoodie and a pair of ripped jeans on. The hood is pulled up over his dishwater-blond hair.

He ducks into my car without a word. I slam on the gas, pressing us both back into the leather seats.

After a few blocks of nothing but the roar of the engine, I turn to him. “Yo.”

He finally pulls down his hood and laughs. “You text me in all-caps, ‘URGENT,’ after ten on a school night and that is all you have to say? Where in the hell are we going?”

“’On a school night’?” I snort. “You sound like you’re ten.”

“My parents are chill, but even they have limits, Finn.”

“Ten inches, maybe.”

“In your fucking dreams, chief. Anyways, quit your bitching. It won’t be long. We’ve just gotta go pick something up.”

He groans. “I have a test tomorrow.”

“First of all, I have that class with you and it’s a pop quiz. Second, it’s English. You speak English already. You shouldn’t need to study, dumbass.”

He points to me, his finger illuminated by the green glow of my stereo system. “That is exactly why your daddy buys your way through this school. If my parents were as rich as God, I’d stop worrying about quizzes, too.”

He has a point, but I don’t want to concede to him. Mostly because our group needs J.C. Especially now.

With Nico gone, things have felt heavy, and J.C. helps keep it light. Plus, underneath his thrift store hoodies and good nature, the kid is savage. He can’t fight the way Caleb can, but I’ve seen him go crazy on people who cross us.

We are almost out of town when I turn off on the dirt road and park in the trees. I’d much rather meet in a public place, but Ingram is getting nervous about meeting with us as it is.

“Is he here?” J.C. asks, squinting through the dashboard.

Just as he asks, lights flash in the distance. We both get out and walk, hands hanging freely at our sides, down the dirt road.

Officer Ingram does the same, lifting one hand in a wave.

“Boys,” he greets as we approach.

“What’s up, pig?” J.C. cackles.

The police officer bristles at the nickname, but J.C. laughs.

I reach out and shake Ingram’s hand. “Let’s make this quick. We have people waiting on us.”

Ingram starts to reach into his pocket and then stops, looking up at me with a heavy brow. “I owe your dad a big one, Finn, but I won’t risk my job. If anyone starts sniffing around, this is done.”

“If this is done, then you’ll lose more than your job,” J.C. says, delivering the threat with a smile.

I don’t know if J.C. is right. Whatever shit my dad has on Ingram, it is enough that he brings me drugs from the evidence locker without any additional threats.

So, I don’t personally have anything to hold over him. Still, the threat keeps him quiet.

He grabs the drugs, and I hand him a thick roll of cash.

---