* * *
Would they fucking hurry already?
Vincent waited down the hall from the art room with Amo and Chloe. The two were arguing about God only knew what.
“I’m going to hurry their asses up,” Vincent mumbled, knowing they wouldn’t hear him.
He started the walk down the hallway, wondering how the fuck one semester could change everything. All throughout high school, he had fucked almost every girl in Legacy Prep, but he hadn’t fucked one in months. Vincent had one girl to blame all that on, too. Elle Buchanan.
Honestly, it was a whole other story, but the short version was she happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Then the boss had given Nero the job of finding out what she knew. Along the way, Nero had needed his and Amo’s help and lucky for them, Elle had come with a best friend. Chloe Masters. They had found out the two friends were sickeningly bullied at school, and instead of fucking all the girls his last months in high school, he had been paying them back for every fucking thing they had ever done to the two girls. Admittedly, he had enjoyed it, a lot.
It wasn’t like his balls were blue; he merely started proudly fucking public school girls, instead. Despite his lack of blue-balls, he definitely wasn’t getting off like he used to. Vincent fucked longer and harder, and still he was hard. He began to fuck more and more girls, trying to satiate his appetite, but sleep ended up coming before satisfaction. Then Vincent had begun to prefer fucking them from behind so he didn’t have to look at their face. He decided to blame Elle for ruining all high school girls for him. One thing was for sure—his last semester had taught him something: high school girls are fucking bitches.
Vincent went into the art room to find it empty. Looking at the door in the back, he began to smile. He quietly started walking toward it, hearing noises coming from behind the door. Leaning against a table facing the door, he decided to wait.
It wasn’t much longer before the door flew open.
“I’m upset I wasn’t invited,” Vincent said, watching Nero come out of the art supply closet, zipping up his pants as Elle buttoned her shirt.
The strawberry-blonde tried to run back inside the closet, but Nero caught her hand and pulled her toward him.
Vincent winked at her. “No need to be shy, sweetheart.”
Elle covered her face with her hand. “I can’t believe you talked me into that, Nero. I won’t let you do that again.”
“I swear to God, Vincent, I’m going to pay you back for all your bad timing,” Nero said.
He started laughing. “Come on, man; it’s the last day of school. You two aren’t going to see that closet again. There’s a million other closets you two can—”
Nero held up his hand. “Vincent, shut the fuck up. Right now.”
“I will if you two are done so I can get the fuck out of here.”
“Oh, my God,” Elle whispered into Nero’s shoulder as he pulled her along.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart; you weren’t the closet’s first. I was in there freshman year.”
“You’re not helping,” Nero hissed.
Vincent laughed, deciding to stop giving Elle such a hard time. He didn’t have a choice, really. If he kept going, Nero was going to kick his ass.
They had all grown fond of her and Chloe. Hell, because of them, he, Nero, and Amo had all become soldiers. Being a soldier in the Caruso mob was the best and last thing which had changed that semester.
When they reached the end of the hallway, Elle ran to Chloe’s side.
Vincent watched the two girls laugh side by side as they started to walk toward the school parking lot. He knew Nero and Amo couldn’t stop staring at the two, either. The girls had come a long way, and they all felt responsible for them. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re being a pussy.
He was done having a moment. “You all need to come to my sister’s graduation tomorrow.”
“Fuck no. I ain’t sitting through two,” Amo retorted.
Nero kept his eyes on Elle. “As much as I don’t want to go, either, we all have to. She’s family.”
“That reminds me, is Adalyn’s friend going to Nero’s party?” Amo asked Vincent.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He shrugged.
“Fuck, I hope her hot ass will be there. What’s her name again?”
Vincent’s hands wanted to rip his throat out even though he had no feelings toward her.
“Lake.” He wasn’t prepared for it to come out as a growl.
Chapter Twelve
Getting Whacked On Graduation Day Would Really Suck
Lake scanned the bleachers around the whole gymnasium. Where the hell is she? When her eyes met her father’s, he gave her a comforting smile. She desperately tried not to look at the goons beside him, but the whole Caruso mob took up half the damn bleachers on that side. She knew because it was nothing except a sea of black suits.
She looked down at her phone again to see if she had any messages. Nothing. Lake went into her messages and sent a text.
Where are you?
When Lake raised her head back up to the man talking on the stage, she had to swipe away the tassel hitting her in the face. The man was about to start calling their names at any second, and it was making Lake even more nervous. She really wished the seats weren’t assigned alphabetically so she and Adalyn could sit together.
She started to almost feel out of place as she glanced around. I never knew high school gyms like this even existed, only in college.