After I cleared everyone out of my house, the cops wrote me a huge ass ticket and called my mother.
But it all affected me about as much as war in the Middle East.
Trouble with the cops? Old news.
Getting squeezed for cash I didn’t have? Child’s play.
Jax and Madoc helped me clean up the house before my mom got home, and then I showered and went to bed, letting Jax crash in the spare bedroom.
Tate was the only thing on my mind right now. Any inkling that what I was thinking of doing might be going too far was shoved out of my head. Did she really set out to hurt me? No. Was I setting out to hurt her? Definitely.
But it was all a game.
She didn’t care, and anything we shared years ago was nothing to her. Every time I pushed her, it wasn’t really about making her feel bad. It was about proving to myself that my head and heart weren’t in her control.
And if I could rip her from my head and my heart, kill everything good I felt about her, then I was strong.
“Hey, K.C.?” I walked up to the concession counter at Spotlight Cinemas where Tate’s best friend worked. “How’s it going?”
She looked up from her book and narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk to me, Shit-For-Brains.”
“Ouch.” I smiled and gave her a condescending nod. “Good for you.”
K.C. was Tate’s best friend. Her only friend, really. Winning her over, possibly seducing her, would tear Tate apart, and I was ignoring the voice in my head that kept screaming at me to stop this.
This was going too far.
I was about to use someone to hurt a girl I once loved? Who the hell did I take lessons from in pettiness?
Tate’s arrival back home brought ups and downs. My ups were better than I’d felt in a year, but my downs had me clawing at the fucking walls again. K.C. was collateral damage.
I could do this.
“Can I have a large popcorn and a Coke, please?”
K.C. rolled her eyes and walked toward the food.
I strolled down the stand to where she was shoveling popcorn into a bucket.
Here we go.
“So, are you heading to the Loop tonight with Liam?” I asked about her boyfriend.
Without lifting her eyes from her task, she shook her head. “How often do you see me there, Jared?” she asked, annoyed. “A bunch of little boys moaning and groaning about the size of their dicks—oh, excuse me—I mean, the size of their engines, and I’m supposed to find that fun?”
“Take it easy.” I held up my hands. “I just thought that since Liam was racing, you’d be there to support him.”
Now she looked up. “He’s racing?”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep my tone nonchalant. “He’s racing Nate Dietrich. He didn’t tell you?”
Lifting her chin, looking none too pleased, she slammed the popcorn on the counter and turned around to get the soda.
Her boyfriend, while a pretty nice guy, was also pretty damn pathetic. He’s the type of guy that would give up top secret information in the first five minutes of torture. I had no respect for him.
And with all of his weaknesses, I also found out one more. Several weeks ago at the Loop one night, I saw that he had a girl on the side.
And that was my ticket in with K.C. Break up her relationship, get her in my corner, and piss off Tate.
“Sorry,” I offered. “He probably knows it’s not your scene. It gets pretty crazy out there. Some girls love it. Some hate it,” I mumbled, trying to sound like the conversation bored me. But on the inside, I was laughing. I couldn’t have predicted K.C.’s reaction better.
She handed me my food, refusing to speak, and I gave her a twenty and collected my change.
Grabbing the shit I didn’t intend to eat and walking towards a theater I didn’t intend to stay in, I turned around and lifted my—hopefully—innocent looking eyebrows.
“K.C.?” She looked up when I said her name. “You live on Evans, right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s on my way. I’d be happy to give you a lift if you want to surprise him tonight.”
My hands were sweaty, or maybe it was the condensation from the drink cup, but I was actually nervous. If she refused—or called Liam to confirm the race—I’d be up a shit creek.
“I don’t think so.”
My stomach sunk, but I shrugged my shoulders and offered a tight smile anyway.
“It’s just a ride, K.C. Tate and I have an unusual relationship. I’m not like that with everyone, and you know it.” I held her green eyes, seeing the wheels turning. Should she or shouldn’t she? She was thinking about it, and that was a good sign. “But okay,” I relented, “see you at school.”
Walking away, I could almost hear K.C. make up her mind.
“What time are you heading out?” she called after me.
Coming to an abrupt stop like I hadn’t expected her to change her mind, I turned around. “Leaving about seven-thirty.”
“All right.” She nodded, her tone a little nicer. “Seven thirty. It’s 1128 Evans,” she clarified.
“A thank you would be nice,” I teased.
“Yeah, it would.” And she returned to her duties.
Once inside the theater, I handed my food to some pre-teens and headed out the back exit.