Ruthless Kings (Windsor Academy 2)

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“Jazz thought the same thing, and as fucked up as this is, I’d rather have that be true instead of someone perving on her.”

“I don’t think they want her dead—at least not unless they confirm she’s a threat. But I do think Jasmine was right about the stabbing being an accident. I think someone was trying to scare her, not necessarily cause bodily harm. The attempted rape may or may not have been a hired gun going rogue.”

“My dad said something to me the other day that raised some flags. The prick actually asked if I organized the assault to knock her down a few pegs. Maybe that was a test, trying to determine where my loyalty lies before he admits anything. A few times now, he's asked probing questions about her. Has made his interest in fucking her blatantly obvious. The prick actually suggested we tag team her. It felt like he was intentionally goading me.

"As far as I know, the one and only time he's seen Jazz in person was at a dinner party over two months ago. You and I both know Preston Davenport is one sick fuck, and he likes 'em young, but something about this doesn't sit right. Peyton is beautiful—and blonde, which seems to be his preference—yet he never made a suggestive comment about her the entire time she and I were together. I'm playing it off, but my dad definitely suspects I have feelings for Jazz. Maybe this is all one big test.”

"Maybe," John agrees. "Or maybe Peyton hired those men because she's jealous and Callahan or even his wife are covering for her. Or maybe we're grasping at straws, and it's none of the above. We need more information, Kingston. The last thing we'd want to do is throw around accusations without absolute certainty. Hopefully, the new bugs will give us something."

“Fuck. There are so many balls in the air, and it only seems to be getting worse by the day.”

John is silent for so long, I have to check my phone to make sure the call is still connected.

“John? You still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. Just thinking.” He clears his throat. “Jasmine bears a striking resemblance to her late mother, correct?”

“Freakishly so.”

“When I was looking into Mahalia’s past, I was primarily focusing on her connection to Charles. I think I need to dig deeper.”

“If it helps any, Jasmine’s mom may have been friends with my mom,” I offer. “There’s this picture I found in an old album.”

“Can you scan that and send it to me?”

I nod, then remember he can't see me, so I say, "I'll do it as soon as we hang up."

“Good. I’ll see what I can come up with.”

I start walking toward my closet to retrieve the photo album. “Are you looking for something specific?”

"I don't quite know yet," he says. "But I think there may be another angle we haven't explored. And if that's the case, Jasmine may be in even more danger."

“Fuck.”

"We'll figure this out, Kingston," he assures me. "Send me that picture, and I'll get back to you ASAP."

I hang up the call, forward the photo to John, and delete the text thread. I can't just sit on my ass, waiting for him to get back to me, so I grab my keys and head out for a drive.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

JAZZ

"What are you doing here?" I frown. "Please don't kill my vibe right now. I actually had a fantastic day, which rarely happens unless I'm with my sister."

Kingston was waiting in my driveway as Ainsley dropped me off. She drove off, mouthing, "Good luck" before I had a chance to stop her. I swear to God that if Kingston tries reaming me for going to South Central with Ains, I’m going to punch him in the throat.

“I’m so glad you and Shawn had such a fantastic time.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously? You’re pulling the jealous boyfriend shit right now? Newsflash, Kingston: You’re not my boyfriend. I said I’d think about it.”

Ugh, I knew this was going to happen when Ainsley kept posting on Insta. She denied it, but I’m pretty sure she was trying to piss her brother off.

“Who is he?”

I look Kingston dead in the eye. “A friend.”