Fallen Heirs (Windsor Academy 3)

I step into my bathroom and flip on the fan in case anyone’s watching the camera feed. Fuck, for all I know, Kingston is the one responsible for that camera. “I need a favor. Can you come get me?”

“At your new place?”

I nod. “Yeah. Well, no... but close to it. I’ll text you the address to a gas station. Can you pick me up there?”

“Babe, it’ll take me at least an hour to get up there.”

“That’s fine,” I assure him. “It’ll take me a bit to walk there anyway.”

“Why don’t you want me to pick you up at your house? Embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“Not at all. It’s more like I need to get the hell away from this house as fast as possible.”

He sighs heavily. “Okay, baby. Text me the address, and I’ll haul ass to get you.”

“Thank you.” I blow out a breath. “Shawn? There’s one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m leaving my phone at home, so after I text you, you won’t be able to reach me. And don’t text me back.”

He chews on that for a moment. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. You know I’m good for it.”

“Trouble with the rich folk, huh?”

“Something like that. Look, I gotta go. I’ll see you soon. Bye, Shawn.”

“See you soon, Jazz.”

I forward the address to the Chevron, then delete our text thread and the call log before setting my phone on the charger. Going back into my closet, I stuff my ID and some cash in my pocket and grab a jacket off the hanger. At the last second, I grab my backpack off the floor and throw a change of clothes into it. Better to be prepared than not. Good thing I’ve taken to running outside lately because I’ve familiarized myself with the area quite a bit. Now, I just need to make sure I stay out of sight during the three-mile walk in case Kingston drives by. I may have a thousand questions running through my head right now, but one thing I’m sure of is that he’s coming for me.

CHAPTER NINE

KINGSTON

What the fuck is going on with Jazz right now? I don’t buy the tired excuse for one second. Reed said she was definitely upset when they dropped her off, and he doubts it had anything to do with getting lost. Why was she in that maze? Did Jazz see my dad and me as we passed through? More importantly, did she overhear our conversation? Is that why she’s ignoring me?

Fuck.

All these unanswered questions are driving me crazy. Thank God Reed found her when he did. Who knows what could’ve happened if my dad and I ran into Jazz? Or, if she made it through to the end of the maze and stumbled on that house? My father was on a mission to test my loyalty. If Jazz saw what was actually going on in that house... there would’ve been no coming back from that, on several levels.

At least now, my plan can move forward. I may have had to do some things that made me uncomfortable tonight, but I gained quite a bit of ground in the process. As far as my dad is concerned, fucking that woman proved to him that my feelings for Jazz aren’t as deep as he thought. That while I’m possessive of her, it’s because I don’t want to share my toys, not because I’m hopelessly in love with her.

I scrub a hand down my face, shaking my head. I still can’t believe they’re running a prostitution ring. He didn’t divulge many details, and I wasn’t going to risk suspicion by pushing it, but he did say what happened in that house only scratched the surface of what he has going on. That sex sells, and he’s become incredibly wealthy because of that. He hinted at more business opportunities that he and I could tackle together. When I asked about Charles’ involvement, he simply said Charles wasn’t involved in everything, and he planned on keeping it that way. When I inquired about where the women came from, he assumed I didn’t like what I saw and said, “There’s plenty to choose from if you’d like a more diverse selection.” That’s when he called that Latina chick over, telling her to give me the golden treatment.

There was no way in hell I would find out what that meant in the middle of a sex den, especially in front of my father and Madeline, so I asked if there was somewhere more private we could go. Thankfully, he confirmed there was and told the girl to show me to a bedroom. According to my dad, that room is for clients who require the utmost discretion to indulge certain inclinations, and they pay handsomely for privacy. I’m guessing those preferences are pretty questionable considering what was going on o

ut in the open like it was perfectly normal. Knowing my dad, though, he probably just didn’t want his fuck buddy, Madeline, to see my dick because then, she’d dump his ass so she could attempt to ride me.

I shudder at the thought. I have nothing against a hot MILF, but that woman is the true definition of a femme fatale. No pussy is worth your inevitable demise. Okay, maybe one pussy could take me down, and I’d likely be smiling the whole way, but that’s less about the organ and more about the person attached to it. Christ, the guys were right. I am pussy-whipped. Not that I’d ever admit it, especially to the owner of said pussy. I’m having a hard enough time dealing with all these goddamn emotions she makes me feel.

Like right now, I feel crazed as I park my Rover in front of her house. I don’t know why, but my gut tells me that something is very, very wrong, and the longer I wait, the worse it’s going to get. Thank God Reed thought to drop my car off before he and Ains drove back to his place in hers. My Agera or my bike aren’t exactly quiet, and anyone inside would’ve heard me coming down the road.

It’s late, so I use the key Peyton gave me long ago to let myself inside through the garage’s side door. I creep through the mudroom and into the kitchen, careful to listen for any signs of people. I’ve taken this route so many times when I used to sneak into Peyton’s bedroom at night, the darkness doesn’t impede me one bit. This time though, I bypass Peyton’s room entirely and stop in front of Jazz’s door. I press my ear against the wood and hear nothing but silence. I test the handle, breathing a sigh of relief when I find it’s unlocked.

The second I open the door, my panic increases tenfold. The bedside lamp is on, so I can see Jazz’s phone resting on the charger. Both the closet and bathroom doors are wide open, so it’s pretty apparent Jazz isn’t here. I check the game room across the hall and the basement and back yard for good measure, but I know it’s pointless. Jazz isn’t anywhere on the property, and she intentionally left her phone behind so I couldn’t find her.