I narrow my eyes when both he and my sister suddenly become awfully fascinated with the table. I know he has the hots for Ains but I’ve already made it crystal clear she’s off-limits. Reed’s a good guy—one of the best I know—but he hasn’t been very discriminating with his dick since he lost his virginity at fifteen. My sister doesn’t need to get mixed up in that shit.
“What kind of stuff?” I ask.
“Go to the mall,” he answers. “I have to find a birthday present for my mom, so I’ll probably drop in that damn purse store she like. Maybe check out the new LeBrons while I’m there. Stuff like that.”
There’s something he’s omitting, but I’m dropping it for now because I have to make a few calls before I have to get back to class.
“I’m out. I’ve got some arrangements to make before lunch is over.” Just for shits and giggles, I place a kiss on Jazz’s cheek as I stand. She stiffens as I expected, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Peyton fuming. “I’ll see you in Lit, babe.”
I have to bite back my laughter as I feel Jasmine glaring at me while I walk out of the room. Who knew fucking with her would be so much fun?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JAZZ
It seems as if the kingdom is rallying behind their queens. By the time lunch rolled around, I’d been subjected to countless taunts, trip attempts, insults, and shoulder checks. For whatever reason, all the guys are staying as far away from me as possible, but there’s plenty of female students to pick up the slack. I almost texted Ainsley, asking her to meet me in the library for lunch, but then I realized that would make them think they’re winning and I refused to do that.
I will admit I got a little thrill when the guys sat down at our table, knowing how much it bothered Peyton. I know it’s petty, but after the morning I’d had, I don’t feel bad about it. Unfortunately, Kingston’s little stunt only made the catty behavior even worse for the second half of the day, but it was almost worth it to see the look on my evil stepsister’s face.
Speaking of Kingston... my phone buzzes with a text from him, indicating he’s waiting for me out front. He dropped me off after school so I could change, and he went home to do the same. He said to dress casual and comfortable so I’m wearing a pair of skinny jeans, a plain red t-shirt, and my favorite pair of Chucks. Thankfully, neither Madeline or my father are
home—no surprise there. They would both probably shit a brick if they saw me leaving the house in this outfit. I don’t understand what their problem is with the minimal wardrobe I brought with me, but they’ve made their distaste abundantly clear. Sure, everything besides underwear were bought at a thrift shop, but they’re all in good condition. It’s not like I’m walking around in anything faded or stained. Maybe they would approve if I called it vintage instead of second hand. I snort at the thought.
I take one last glance in the mirror before walking out the door, smoothing out a few stray hairs from my ponytail. What am I doing? This is Kingston Davenport—asshole extraordinaire. I shouldn’t try looking good for him. Hell, I shouldn’t even be going anywhere with him, but I have to admit, I’m curious to see where he’s taking me. As intimidating as he seemed at first, I don’t think he would ever physically hurt me. Ainsley loves him too much for him to be that kind of guy. But I do think he’s capable of some major psychological damage which is why I need to keep my guard up. I need to remind myself this is an information gathering mission. My stupid hormones need to take a hike and quit compelling me to want him.
Kingston knows something about my mother. Something big, I’m guessing. And I need to know what that is, so here we go. I step outside and see a shiny white Range Rover parked in front of the door. Kingston’s behind the wheel and he pops the locks when I approach the passenger side.
I climb into the tan leather interior that still bears that new car smell. “Where’s your car?”
Kingston’s Ray-Bans slide down the bridge of his nose. “This is my car.”
I roll my eyes. “I meant the fancy black one. How many cars do you own anyway?”
He flashes a wicked smile. “I have this, the Agera, and a Ducati.”
I fasten my seat belt and mumble, “Ah, the lifestyles of the rich and infamous.”
I must not have been quiet enough because Kingston laughs. “I like nice vehicles. Sue me.”
I glance around the cabin as he pulls out of the driveway and spot a booster seat in the back. “Uh... why do you have a booster seat? I know you don’t have any other siblings. Is there a Davenport love child I don’t know about?”
Kingston scowls. “Probably more than one.” When my eyes widen, he adds, “But not one of mine.”
My lips form into an O when understanding dawns. “Oh.”
I don’t have anything to say to that. It’s obviously a touchy subject for him, so I drop it.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll see.” He pulls onto the main road and turns up the music.
I bob my head along to Drake’s latest album while Kingston drives. As we pull onto the freeway heading south, I run through a list of places he could be taking me. The possibilities become slimmer and slimmer as we pass through LA. I’m confused as fuck when he takes a South Central exit. This is where I grew up—I know these streets well. We’re maybe three miles from my old apartment. What I don’t know, is why we’re here.
“Kingston, what’s going on?”
He turns off the main road into a neighborhood. “Almost there.”
“Almost where?”