Alpha Knight (Wolf Ridge High 2)

“You leave that to me. I’ll get it sold. Then I’ll give you your cut.”

Fuck no.

“That wasn’t the deal. You get the title. I’ll sell it.”

He snorts. “You’re gonna sell it.”

“Yeah, that’s what we discussed.”

He sneers. “Sorry, honey. No one’s gonna buy a six figure Porsche from a sixteen-year-old.”

“Seventeen,” I correct, although that’s not the point.

“If I can steal a car in broad daylight from the Scottsdale Mall, I can pull off the car sale.” Turns out, I’m a pretty good hustler. I had to pick up a lot of new skills these last six months.

He gives me a mock apologetic shake of his head. “Sorry, sister. If I get the title, it’s mine.” He waits a beat. “Right?”

My heart starts pounding harder. This guy is slimy, but I knew that from the beginning. That’s the risk associated with stealing cars.

He rubs his nose with a greasy finger, leaving a smear of black on his face. We’re nose to nose under the hood. He smells like metal and stale sweat and faintly of the sour alcohol scent people get when they over-indulged the night before.

Now that I’ve seen his brother, I can see where he might be attractive in a different situation. If he took care of himself and had a decent haircut. And didn’t look so damn mean.

I clench my jaw. “We split it fifty-fifty.”

“Sixty-forty.”

I don’t have to guess which one of us gets the sixty.

This guy’s going to keep pushing me around. It’s going to change to seventy-thirty next time I see him, if I even see him again. I need to get leverage back, and fast.

I draw a deep breath and try to channel my dad. He could talk a guy into anything. And he never used fear to get through to them, the way some salespeople do. Because that’s essentially what any con is—a sales job. No, he made them feel good about doing what he wanted. Made them think that’s what they wanted too.

“Listen, Winslow.” I lean a hip against the bumper of the Porsche. “Like I told you before, I’m looking for a business partner. I already scoped out a Mercedes-Benz S Class at the salvage yard for the next car jack. But if you’re the kind of guy who makes a deal and doesn’t honor his word, this isn’t going to gel going forward. We have to have enough trust between us to make this work.”

I throw in words like honor and trust hoping it might bring out some whisper of those qualities in him, but I doubt he ever had them to begin with.

If I hadn’t seen his all-American brother, I wouldn’t have even thought of it. But unbelievably, it seems to work.

Winslow draws his chest up and nods. “Fifty-fifty,” he concedes. “But I’m selling it.”

“We both go,” I counter.

He sneers again. “I’m not taking you. You’d fuck it all up. But I’ll give you your cut, fair and square.”

“You stand to lose more than I do. I’m not eighteen yet. If I get caught, it would be a slap on the wrist. If you get caught, it’s a felony.”

He pinches his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, considering me. His gaze darts to his brother, like he’s thinking about having Bo sell the car instead. But then he shakes his head. “I’ll take the risk.”

“I’m coming along,” I insist again.

“You’re not. Go back to your prep school in Cave Hills and wait until I text you.”

My stomach churns. I try not to show my misgivings, though. We’re partners, who honor and trust each other. That was the bullshit I was throwing out. I have to walk the talk.

“I need a ride back.”

Winslow rolls his eyes and pulls his head out from under the hood of the Porsche. “Fuck.” He considers me, then looks over at his brother.

“Bo!”

The younger, far hotter version of him walks over, wiping his hands on a clean white rag. “Yeah?”

“You gotta take this one down to Cave Hills.”

He narrows his eyes. “In what?” He throws his arms wide and looks around the place.

“On your bike. Hurry the fuck up. I need you back here to finish that job tonight.”

A muscle in Bo’s jaw flexes, and he appears to be drawing in a measured breath. “Right. Okay.”

He flicks his brows at me and extends his arm like a butler. “This way, ma’am.”

Okay, maybe he’s as big a dick as his brother.

All that hotness wasted on a cocky asshole. Too bad. Not that I was hoping for anything. I just… liked to look.

I follow him to the front of the shop where he picks up a helmet on a motorcycle and hands it to me. “Your limo awaits.”

I’m not a total chicken, but I haven’t ridden on the back of a motorcycle before. And when I pictured it in the past, it was always riding behind some very trustworthy boyfriend type. Someone hot, but not dick-ish and surly like Bo.