The Last Piece of His Heart (Lost Boys 3)

“I must know,” Holden said. “B-R-B with the intel.”

Holden crossed to the nearest group of girls. They watched him approach warily, but within moments, he’d charmed his way into their circle. A few minutes later he reported back, his face grim.

“Well?”

Tell me I’m wrong.

“Kimberly Mason isn’t coming back to Central.”

My stomach dropped. “Why not?”

Holden rubbed his chin, subdued. “She was out Monday night with that walking hemorrhoid, Mikey Grimaldi. Everyone else left. She and Mikey stayed.”

“And?”

“The shit swizzler took things too far, if you catch my drift.”

“Fuck me.”

He nodded grimly. “But her friends say she’s not pressing charges.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Probably because she’s fucking scared,” Holden burst out angrily, wearing a look I’d never seen him wear. “I’m sure it’s humiliating to report that shit and get questioned on every last thing you did or didn’t do. Like being forced to strip naked and parade around while that asshole stays fully clothed.”

My damn heart thudded dully as I looked at my friend. There was a story there I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear. “You got all that from what those girls told you?”

“Yes,” Holden said too quickly and looked away. “Anyway, that’s the deal. She’s leaving town and Grimaldi’s going to get into college, play pro, and go about his life like nothing happened. The American Dream.”

“Fuck that.”

“That sounded like a threat,” Holden said. He gave me a strange, hopeful look that sort of broke my heart.

“Because it was.”

Chapter Sixteen

Monday morning, I’d just made it to the parking lot at Central when my phone chimed a text from Amber Blake.

Did you see this???

A photo popped up of a white Jeep with the word RAPIST spray-painted in red along the entire length of the passenger side.

I climbed out of the Buick and hit call. “Is that Mikey Grimaldi’s Jeep?”

“The brand-spanking-new Rubicon he got for his birthday last summer? It sure is,” Amber said, sounding breathless. “He was at the Burger Barn on Saturday night with Frankie Dowd and some people. They say he drove all over town like a dumbass before noticing. Must’ve happened while he was eating.”

“Holy shit.” I bit my lip. “For Kimberly.”

“Yep. Whoever did it is a hero in my book.”

Amber was waiting for me at the parking lot’s chain link entrance to the school. She looked pretty in a long, flowered skirt, similar to the flowing white one I wore that day.

“Crazy, right?” she said as I joined her.

“Maybe something good will come out of it,” I said. “He might not go to jail or have his future tainted forever like hers is, but he didn’t get away with it either. That’s something.”

“Agreed,” Amber said. “I wonder who did it. Kimberly’s brother, maybe? No, he’s at NYU…”