“The Escalade is no longer at Windsor, but that’s all we know so far.”
Apparently, after I fell asleep, Kingston called his PI to give him the scoop on everything that happened to me last night.
I take a seat on the nearby stool. “And John doesn’t think going to the police will help?”
“He thinks it’s better to leave them out of this, for now, considering the cover-up from your original attack.”
“Right. Who could forget about that?” I mutter.
Kingston stares at me thoughtfully. “Is that why you had a gun in your purse?”
Shit.
Wait... had a gun in my purse?
I glare. “Why were you snooping through my purse?”
“I wasn’t snooping through your purse,” he insists. “When I found it in that parking lot... I opened it to check the ID. To make sure it wasn’t someone else’s that looked like yours. Where the fuck did you get an unmarked gun anyway?” I see the moment it hits him. “Shawn. He gave it to you.”
“No, he didn’t give me a gun. I bought it from a friend of his.”
“Oh, that’s so much better.” Kingston gives me a wry look. “Why would you even want one?”
“Why do you think , Kingston? I want to feel safe.”
“And you think a gun will do that?”
“It’s better than nothing.” I shrug.
“Not if you don’t know how to shoot one,” he argues. “So... do you know how to shoot one? ”
“Not exactly .”
He points an accusing finger at me. “And that’s exactly why it’s staying locked up in my safe.”
“What?” I shout. “You can’t do that!”
Kingston’s eyes flare with anger. “Watch me.”
“It’s not your call, Kingston!”
He exhales harshly. “Look. I’m all for the right to bear arms. If you really want a gun because it makes you feel safer, then I’m okay with that. But we’re going to do it the right way. You’re going to learn how to safely handle a gun, and you’re going to have one that’s registered.
“I refuse to allow you to put yourself at risk by carrying around a loaded weapon that you have no idea what to do with. Especially an unmarked weapon. Christ, if a cop caught you with that thing, you’d be screwed. Do you have any idea how strict California gun laws are? Do you really think having a criminal record looks good when you’re trying to obtain custody? C’mon, Jazz. You’re smarter than this. I can’t believe that fucker let you go through with it.”
“For your information, he didn’t like the idea either, but unlike you, he allowed me to make my own decision because he knows I’m a big girl.”
“Jazz. You know I’m right. And you know I’m coming from a good place. I’m not saying you can’t have one. I’m just asking you to be smart about it. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t fucking lose you.”
I groan, resting my head on the breakfast bar. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”
“Thank you.” He places a kiss on the back of my head. When his phone buzzes in his pocket, he pulls it out and says, “That’s John.”
I sit up.
“Yeah?” Kingston frowns at whatever the private investigator is saying. “When?” Now, he’s scrubbing a hand down his face. “Nothing on Gale yet?” His hazel eyes flicker to mine as he listens to John, becoming increasingly more agitated. I have a feeling whatever John came up with so far isn’t good. “Sounds good. Keep me posted.”
“What’d he say?” I pepper him with questions as soon as he hangs up the phone. “Did he find Lucas?”
Kingston shakes his head. “Not yet. But Christian Taylor was found dead in his dorm room this morning. They’re calling it a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
I gasp. “What?!”
“Yep. Police are saying it’s pretty cut and dry. Christian left a note.”
“Does John know what the note said?”
He gulps audibly. “Two words: I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry?” I repeat. “Sorry about what?”
“For participating in your assault? Cheating on his calculus test? Letting Peyton suck his cock? Who knows?”
“Holy shit.” When I glance up, Kingston has a bizarre look on his face. “What’s that look for? What are you thinking?”
His lips thin. “I think Christian’s suicide may have been a setup.”
“By who?”
“Any one of the major players? But my top suspect is my father.”
I frown. “What makes you think that?”
Kingston grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge and takes a sip before handing it to me. “The video of my dad with Peyton. He said if Peyton’s lapdog—which all signs point to Lucas being that lapdog—went after you again, he’d pay. Even though Christian didn’t directly assault you last night, he was an active participant in Lucas’ plan. Knowing my dad, he’d consider that action a personal slight and seek revenge on all parties involved.”
“So... if that’s true... you think Lucas is next?”
Kingston nods. “Exactly.”
“But... isn’t your dad in Mexico for Christmas?”
“He is. And he flew commercial, so I know he’s actually there because John verified it. But he could’ve easily sent one of his goons on his behalf.” Kingston nods his head toward the window. “He was in the middle of the Caribbean when my mom died, remember?”
“I remember.” I sigh, looking out the window toward the pool area where his mom was found dead.
“So, what now?”
“John’s going to keep looking for Lucas, and we’ll go from there once we know more. He said he passed everything on to his FBI contact in case my dad is responsible.”
“Basically, we wait. Again .” I grab the tie off my wrist and pull my hair back into a pony. “Do we continue to act normal like John suggested?”
“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. It’s Christmas Eve. We’re not going to let them ruin that, or our trip. I say we go back to your place to get your bag like we planned, then come back here to have our mini celebration.”
“Is Bentley still planning to drop by even though Reed and Ainsley are up in Oregon?”
“He said he’d be here. We’ve been doing this thing since middle school. Ainsley and Carissa started the tradition and made a big deal out of it every year. Dinner, gift exchange, Christmas movies, cookies... the works. The guys and I were just indulging them at first, but we started to enjoy it somewhere along the way. After Rissa died... Ainsley insisted on keeping up with it. She needed that normalcy, and I think Bent did, too.”
“It’s nice you guys have your own special way to celebrate.”
He brackets my hips with his palms and leans down to kiss me. “We have our own special way to celebrate. You’re part of that now.”
I link my fingers behind his neck and pull him into me for another kiss. “You wanna join me in the shower before we head out?”
Kingston flashes a toothy smile. “I definitely want to join you in the shower.”
*
“You’re sure this is everything?” Kingston holds up my overnight bag. “We’re going to be gone for two-and-a-half days.”
“Um... yeah. That’s it. Why?”
He shakes his head with a smile. “I’m just used to women packing a lot more shit. Ainsley always has at least one suitcase for her shoes alone. And she’s the lowest maintenance girl I know, behind you.”
“Yeah, but Ainsley’s really into fashion. Which is good for me, I suppose, since I have no clue what to do when I need to dress up.”
Kingston grabs the back of my head and pulls me into a kiss. “I think you’re selling yourself short. But if you ask me, you don’t need to dress up.”
“Says the boy who’s always ready to attack me seconds after seeing me in a fancy dress.”
“What can I say? I like the easy access.” He shrugs unapologetically.
“I’m so sure.” I laugh. “Well, I guess we should g—”
A blood-curdling scream pierces the air, interrupting my train of thought.
“What the hell?” Kingston rips open my bedroom door and peeks down the hall where the noise came from.
When I look over his shoulder, I see Peyton sitting against the wall across her open bedroom door. She’s crying hysterically with her knees pulled to her chest, rocking back and forth, mumbling to herself. “What happened?”