Page 33 of Kings of Westbrook High

Half the time, he says, because he doesn't know half the shit that sick bastard put me through, and I sure as fuck wasn't stupid enough to run my mouth to a cop. I wasn't kidding with Elijah before. In the world I live in, snitches earn themselves a smile from ear to ear and an unmarked grave in the middle of the desert. The only reason Dean knows what kind of man my father was is because he arrested him more times than I can count and spent a few nights with him at the station, and those were the only nights I’d feel safe in my own bed at night.

Jason O'Conner was a monster.

And he'll get the sendoff he deserves.

“You got any work for me?”

Dean sighs, shaking his head because he knows I'm deflecting. “I'll call you in a few days.”

“Thought I was fired.” I tease, bumping his fist before turning around to walk over to Rachel's car parked across the street.

I wait for him to close the front door and drop my ass down on the sidewalk, leaning my elbows on my knees to eye the box filled with Jason’s ashes.

I shouldn't say anything, but I figure he deserves a couple words, at least.

“I hope she laughed at you.” I whisper, opening it up and turning it over so he falls through the cracks of the gutter between my feet. “Burn in hell, motherfucker.”

With that, I toss the now empty box over my shoulder and stand to leave, ignoring the curious stares pointed my way by a couple cracked up whores stood on the street corner a few car lengths away.I know better than to hang around in a fifty thousand car that could get me shot in a place like this, so I slide into the driver’s seat and hit the gas, turning up the music up as loud as it'll go on the four hour drive back to Westbrook.

Rachel's still out partying by the time I get to her house so I leave the keys under the mat like she told me to and lift my Beats over my ears, smoking another joint to kill the time while I walk back to the Palace. I'm just passing the coffee shop down the street when I spot a couple good looking guys walking towards me dressed in jeans and designer shirts. If I were alone in Vegas at this time on a Saturday night, I'd turn around and find a different route, but I'm not in Vegas, and these rich boys probably don't carry knives or guns for sport, which is why I decide to keep walking.

“Damn, girl.” The one on the left eyes me and my form, blocking my path when I try to step around him. “You're the new girl.”

I glare, only now recognizing him as one of Derek's boys I spotted standing on the sidelines the night the Kingston brothers picked me up from that party.

“Can you not hear me?” He smirks, reaching out to pull my headphones off.

I pull my head back to stop him and side step him again, locking my jaw when he laughs and snatches my arm to pull my back to his chest.

“Don't ignore me, bitch. I said-”

I don't get to hear what he said before he's cut off by my elbow in his face. He grunts and stumbles back a little, wiping the blood from his nose with a hilarious look of shock on his face. I move to leave, but then other one grabs me by the scruff of my hoodie, so I kick him hard in the balls, watching him cry out and fall to his knees before me. I back away but keep my eyes on them, already planning my next move just in case they decide to come at me for more. The one I hit in the nose snarls and does just that, but then he freezes where he stands. His eyes hit something over my shoulder, and then I hear the car engine.

“Oh, fuck.” He panics, pulling his buddy to his feet by his shirt. “Dude, come on, let's go!”

With that, they both haul ass down the street without looking back and I shake my head at them, turning around to eye the sexy prick in the black Lamborghini parked right beside me in the middle of the street.

Fuck, he's mad.

Really mad.

I remain frozen where I stand when he eyes the cut on my lip he knows is there but can't see because I covered it with a little concealer before I left earlier today. I never had to bother with that before because Jason and his so called friends weren't stupid enough to hit me where it'd be easily seen, but I guess Katherine didn't stop to think about that before she took a swing at me last night.

“Get in.”

I pull my head back at his bossy fucking command, frowning. “No.”

“Get in the fucking car, Callie.” He growls through his teeth, squeezing the wheel in a death grip. “Now.”

“No.” I repeat, slower this time because it seems he's hard of hearing tonight.

I move to leave but I don't even manage to turn all the way around before he jumps out and snatches my arm to pull me back. I shove him off me just as quick, rolling my eyes and dropping my headphones to my neck when he grabs me again.

“Okay, what the fuck is your deal-”

“Shut up.” He snaps, throwing me back into the side of his car to pin my small body with his huge one. “I'm getting real fuckin’ sick of you telling me no.”

I grin. “You don't say.”

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