Phoenix turned the steering wheel, and suddenly we were in front of a large wrought-iron gate.
“It’s prison.” I breathed.
Phoenix swallowed, his eyes slowly gazing up at the giant gate as we were buzzed in. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Why are you shaking?”
His right knee looked like something out of Addicts Anonymous, while his fingers clenched around the steering wheel like he had a sudden fear of driving down long driveways lined with trees.
“Not shaking. Are you on drugs?”
“Okay, restless legs.” I held up my hands in surrender. “And no, I’m not on drugs, but your concern is noted.”
Apparently, that was the end of our conversation. The next five minutes were spent with me staring between Phoenix’s out-of-control right leg and out the window at the huge campus. Trees grew everywhere, scattered about the grounds like cosmic litter. And between the trees sprawled beautiful old brick buildings that looked like something out of a movie.
When the car pulled to a stop in front of a large three-story building with a giant sign that read WELCOME FRESHMEN, I almost puked. My hands clasped together, rubbing the clamminess away, I managed a confident smile when really I wanted to beg Phoenix to turn the car around and let me hide under the covers.
I’d never been to a school.
Ever.
Heck, I’d never actually been in public. Forget making friends. How was I going to survive in a crowd?
“Nervous?” Phoenix asked, turning the car off.
“Of course not” I squared my shoulders and lifted my trembling chin as I brazenly compounded that lie with another. “I have you… my only friend… with me.”
“Right now your security guard.” He sighed. “Not your friend, so don’t go assuming I’m going to paint your nails and carry your books.”
“But what if my books are heavy?”
“I’ll get you a wagon.”
“Charmer.”
“I try.” He opened the car door, and I could have sworn I heard him mumble, “Shit, I hate this place.”
Just as I got out of the car, another two cars pulled up, like something out of an actual mafia movie.
Black cars.
Tinted windows.
And the crowds around us grew.
Even more nervous than before, I ran around the car and reached for Phoenix’s hand. He was probably too shocked to jerk away like he normally did, because he clenched it tightly within his. Reassurance washed over me. I was going to be okay. Everything was going to be okay.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Flashbacks while walking across campus? Sign me up!
Phoenix
BEE SERIOUSLY MADE ME rethink my decision to stop drinking alcohol, which really wasn’t a mark in favor of our new friendship, considering I had to be with her twenty-four-seven. I was going to have to either work out harder, hide a freaking flask in my pocket, or just shoot things when I got home every night.
God help us all if she asked me to help her with homework.
I cringed when her hand touched mine. Not because I was such an ass that she repulsed me — the opposite actually. I had to stay numb to her, unwavering. The way I saw it, if I continued to stay cold, she would eventually find someone to keep her warm. Girls like Bee couldn’t help but attract people — attract guys. But the thought of guys approaching her really did have me itching to shoot things or drink, and — look at that — full circle, back to alcoholism.
I wasn’t sure how we had timed it so perfect, but Nixon, Chase, and Tex, the other bosses — bad asses in their own rights — had chosen that exact moment to pull up to the school.
Meaning camera phones everywhere were freezing.
Years ago, The Elect, the four of us, had started Eagle Elite, thinking we were untouchable; there were rumors amongst the students about what we did, about who we were, but we always laughed it off.
Nobody was laughing now.
Because that was another lifetime ago, when we had still been kids playing with guns. Our reality was forced upon us so damn quick we didn’t even have time to catch a breath or transition. We all went from made men to bosses within the span of eighteen months.
The minute Nixon Abandonato stepped out of his car… I knew it. I wasn’t even looking in his direction, and I knew.
Mouths gaped.
Camera phones were raised.
Girls were fanning themselves.
And Bee’s hand clenched mine tighter.
I glanced at the Range Rover just as Chase emerged, earning a girlish squeal from the crowd, and then finally Tex, the Cappo — aka MVP — of the families emerged in his aviators. A gun straight up, strapped inside a leather jacket for all to see. It was hard to miss.
Shit… things just got real.
The squealing stopped.
Talk about an entrance.
It didn’t matter if people were trying to upload to YouTube, or if they were posting to Facebook. The security at Elite was controlled by us, because Nixon still owned the freaking school, so yeah… we weren’t worried about making CNN, but still, they could have at least tried to fly under the radar.
I didn’t envy Sergio one bit; he was probably having a hell of a time shutting down all social media around the campus Ethernet.
Besides, what could the pictures prove? Some rich guys getting out of nice cars? One has a gun but has a license to carry it? He could be a federal agent for all they knew — but the students weren’t stupid. Stories of the Elect escapades still ran rampant throughout campus, even though all of us were long gone.