Beck looks at West. “Do you know how the company gets jobs to the mercenaries they have working for them—the adults that aren’t being forced into this life?”
“Eh, yeah, they have a highly encrypted portal that they advertise jobs through, and whoever wants to take it, accepts it and receives the details via an encrypted email.”
“Do you think you’d be able to get into that system?”
“Yeah. There should be a backdoor into it through the company’s mainframe, which I have access to.”
Beck grins. “Good. Once you’re in, crash it. That way she won’t be able to reach out to any of them and get them to do her dirty work for her.”
West nods and goes to grab his laptop.
“Okay, so that’ll prevent her sending any mercenaries after us, but there’s still plenty more she could do. Even if we take measures to protect ourselves, we can’t live on the defense for the rest of our lives.”
Beck sighs, running his hand down his face in exhaustion or frustration. “I know, but that's all I’ve got for now.”
Several hours later, West has successfully sent out a message to all the mercenaries for hire that are in our parents' employ, telling them that the company won’t be taking on any new jobs for the foreseeable future, and crashed the system, so Maria can’t gain access to it.
It won’t solve our problem, but it’s a start.
***
Apparently, impending exams do not mean the weekly Friday night Pacific Prep party is canceled, and actually, after spending all week staring at the bland walls of the library, trying to cram so much knowledge into my head that my brain is nothing but mush at this point, I’m actually kinda looking forward to sitting by the lake and just relaxing for the night.
“Ahh, it’s been so long since we’ve had a night out,” Emilia squeals in excitement when I answer the door to her on Friday night. She looks amazing in booty shorts and a tube top, showing off her tanned skin and flat abdomen.
She pulls me in for a tight hug, and I can already smell the sickly-sweet odor of alcohol on her breath. She giggles as she pulls away, moving further into the apartment, and Wilder comes strolling behind her with a crazy-ass grin on his face.
“Sunshine.” He nods his head and moves past me to the kitchen, lifting some beer and wine coolers out of a bag he’s carrying and filling up the fridge.
“Can you believe it’s the final party of the year?” Emilia exclaims when I join her on the sofa.
“We have the dance next week.”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, like she doesn’t know what she’s going to do with me. “That’s different. This is the final Friday night party.”
Yeah, I’m still not understanding the difference. Even if I did, it’s all the same to me. A party by the lake in skimpy clothes, or a dance in the dining hall with gowns and suits. Either way, people get drunk, sleep with inappropriate people, and regret their decisions in the morning.
Hawk strides in, wearing a dark green shirt and cream chinos, pausing in the threshold before he makes a beeline for the fridge. Lifting out a beer, he joins us in the living room. I notice his gaze linger on Emilia for a second, frown lines wrinkling his forehead before he looks away. I have to suppress my eye roll. The idiot needs to learn to get along with my best friend. She’s not going anywhere, and neither is he, so to save all of us the headache, they need to learn to be in the same room as each other without pitching a fit.
Emilia makes a point of ignoring him, talking my ear off about one thing and another, catching me up on the school gossip that I couldn’t care less about. Not long later, Cam walks in, looking fucking droolworthy in a tight pale gray shirt and dark denim jeans. The way his eyes drop over me heats my skin, and I have to suppress a shiver of desire. He smirks, knowing just how much he affects me, and squeezes into the space beside me on the sofa, dragging me into his lap.
Leaning in, he bites my earlobe, making me squeeze my thighs together. His dark chuckle does nothing to abate the need coursing through me. “You look absolutely fuckable tonight.”
Hoooly shit, someone get me a fan.
Thankfully, before I can self-combust, the others stroll in, and we keep the topic of conversation light as we all down a few pre-drinks.
The party is well underway by the time we make it down to the lake, but regardless of the mass of bodies writhing in time to the music on the pebbly shore, the plastic chairs the Princes always sit in around the fire remain unoccupied.
I’d half expected someone to have claimed the seats. In fact, I’m surprised no one has tried to claim the title of Princes. It’s not as though the guys have been all that present recently, but the threat of their wrath seems to be enough to keep people in line. As for the girls, there hasn’t been the same uproar to the stopping of the tradition as there was last time. Maybe it’s because the guys explained they’re in a relationship—although somehow, I doubt that’s the reason—or perhaps they’ve just gotten sick of all the drama. Now that I could totally understand. Whatever the reason, I’m not questioning it. We’re down to the last couple of weeks of school, and everyone’s thoughts seem to be on the summer and college. You can practically taste the excitement in the air as everyone looks toward their futures with the kind of optimism that only comes with youth.
We all take our seats, West pulling me into his lap, freeing up a chair for Emilia.
“What do you want to drink, babe?” Mason asks, flipping open the lid on the cooler, revealing a selection of beers, wine coolers, and water.
“Water, please.”
He hands me the bottle, before moving on to dole out drinks for everyone else, and I inspect the lid, making sure it’s properly sealed before unscrewing it. It’s become a habit, ever since Michael managed to get one over on me. I still don’t know how he managed to sneak something into my coffee without me noticing. It’s not something I’ll ever allow someone to achieve again, though. Now, unless I get the drink myself, I make sure it comes sealed, and I always double check the seal and bottle for any signs of tampering. Of course, I trust Emilia, Wilder, Hawk, and my guys, but we didn’t carry that cooler down here, meaning they got someone to do it for them, and who knows what the fuck some random asshole might have done to our drinks.
We all lapse into easy conversation, watching the party rage around us. It’s honestly the best party I have been to all year. No one approaches us or tries to make conversation with the guys. While they still receive come fuck me looks from girls dancing nearby, none of them do more than that, and it’s fucking bliss not having to watch desperate wannabe housewives grinding all over my guys.
As the night wears on, the music seems to get louder and louder, and I can feel sweat gathering at my temples and along my spine, even though I’ve done nothing but sit in West’s lap. My heart rate starts to spike, and when the music switches to a new song and a loud bass starts up, I flinch.