Ride and Die (Ridgemore #1)

13 Bitches Beware

13

Bitches Beware

L ayla laid down a little rubber as Bonnie rocketed up her driveway in a flash of shiny blue, shifting through several gears before we reached the turn onto the quiet residential street that served only our families.

“I can’t believe he gets to sleep in. How’s that punishment for punching out Rich, huh?” she asked with a pinched brow. “Suspension shouldn’t be time off from school. He should have to go in extra days, like on weekends, or maybe over fall break. He’d love that.”

She took the turn toward the larger Periwinkle Hill neighborhood that would eventually lead us out in the direction of Ridgemore High. Hunt was riding with Griffin.

“I’m thinking I should punch someone too,” Layla went on. “I could do with some R and R.”

I chuckled and stretched out my legs. “Dude, school only just started. You’d better not be tired of it already. We’ve still got a long haul ahead of us.”

She glanced at me, driving too fast through the residential area. At least no kids were outside playing at this hour. “I can not wait to be done with school. I thought I’d be fine with it. Senior year’s supposed to be fun and all that, right? That’s what everyone says. You’re still at school but you get to party and have fun for most of it. But I tell ya, Joss, I can’t take school right now on top of everything else. There’s too much crap going on.”

“I know. Trust me, I’m feeling ya hard on this. But you’re probably only saying that ’cause we got shit for sleep last night.” As planned, we’d sneaked out again to check the treehouse for bugs, this time with the radio-frequency detector. The place was clear except for the two devices we’d already found. Brady was going to take advantage of his time at home to scan his room and Layla’s—after he finally woke up, of course.

Layla frowned, whisked her bangs out of her eyes, and shifted through a hard turn out onto the main road. “Not gonna lie, I get cranky when I don’t get my beauty sleep.”

I chuckled. “As if you need beauty sleep. You’re gorgeous, my friend, sleep or not.”

She laughed, already sounding lighter. “Yeah, I really fucking am. And so are you.”

I nodded absently, not needing the compliment. I’d only said what I had to shift her mood—not that Layla was conceited, but who didn’t like to be told they were beautiful?

“Just wish Rich would back off already,” she added as if half to herself.

I turned in my seat to face her. “How bad is it really? Tell me.”

She shrugged, a sure sign she was about to underplay the situation. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“But you shouldn’t have to handle anything—that’s the whole point. He should take no for an answer and back away with his tail between his legs like a good boy.”

Layla snorted. “Yeah, doubt that’s ever gonna happen. After all the times I’ve shot him down, pretty sure he’s not gonna get the message.” After a heavy sigh, she added, “If he didn’t back off after what happened with Brady, I don’t think he ever will.”

“You’d think that would shake him out of his delusions…”

“You’d think.”

“So how bad is it? You haven’t seen him since the Fischer House party, right? Other than yesterday, I mean, for the point three seconds before Brady punched him out.”

She was quiet, eyes suddenly glued to the winding stretch of road ahead of us.

“Lay?”

Finally, she sighed, her shoulders rounding as she leaned forward, nearly wrapping herself around the steering wheel. “He’s been texting me.”

“What the fuck? You haven’t blocked his ass?”

“Of course I’ve blocked his ass. But he just keeps getting new numbers and doing it again. Obvi, it doesn’t take long for me to figure out who it’s from, and then I block him. But then he just comes at me again that way, saying shit like, ‘Hi, babe. Just want you to know I’m thinking about you.’” She shuddered. “As if that ’s fucking reassuring…”

“So then you need to change your number.”

Another sigh. “Yeah, I know. It’s just a royal pain. I’d have to let all my contacts know, and I keep thinking he’s going to get over doing this stupid shit already.” She flicked a glance at me. “He doesn’t even get anything out of it. I don’t answer after I figure out it’s him.”

“What else?”

“What else, what?” Her attention was back firmly on the road, and I’d bet she was already regretting getting into Rich’s behavior.

“Don’t give me that shit. I know you. Don’t forget that. Just spit it out already.”

She huffed, her fingers twitching around the wheel. “He sends me stuff, you know, in the mail.”

A chill ran down my body despite the warm air blasting in through the open windows. “What kind of stuff?”

“Oh, you know, stupid shit. Dumbass poems that rhyme with every single line. Supposedly romantic notes where he’s like, ‘Will you go out with me?’ He even asked me to be his ‘valentine.’ He sent chocolates once, which I tossed straight in the garbage. No way am I gonna put anything in my mouth he sends me. For all I know, he might roofie me even though I’m in my own house. Once he sent an envelope full of rose petals, that kind of thing. I also got a bath bomb that stank like total artificial perfume, like he actually sprayed the shit on or something. It was totally gross. Smelled like Mrs. Faulkner.”

“Eww.” Mrs. Faulkner was our chemistry teacher. I’d long suspected she was flammable considering how much perfume and hairspray she wore to class.

“You never respond?” I asked.

“Nope, never. He doesn’t even sign the shit.”

“Does he sign the texts on your phone?”

“No, not there either.”

“So it might not be him. I mean, there’s at least a chance it’s someone else, right?”

A snort from Layla. “Yeah, right. Ridgemore’s too small to have two stalker assholes after moi . I know I’m hot shit and all, but come on, it’s gotta be him.”

“And Brady doesn’t know?”

“Hell no, he doesn’t know. You saw what he did just ’cause Rich was trying to talk to me at some party. I think that’s why I never get flowers or anything big like that. Nothing that’ll draw too much attention. Small letters, and even when I got the chocolates, it was one of those mini boxes.”

“What about Griffin and Hunt—do they know?”

“No, no one else does, and that’s how I wanna keep it, Joss—I mean it.”

“You’re gonna have to tell them eventually, you do know that, right? We don’t keep shit like this from each other.”

“Yeah, I know. But now’s not the time. There’s too much going on with Brady and now your parents. We don’t need to add Rich to that list. He’s a raging asswad, but he’s harmless. I mean, more or less. I sure as shit don’t trust him enough to be alone with him. Dude’s got potential entitled rapist written all over him.” Her laugh was too high-pitched, nothing like her usual chuckle.

I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to get inside her head. “You think he’d do that?”

She shrugged. “No, not really, or I def would’ve told you and the guys sooner. Still, I ain’t about to be stupid about it either. All his little ‘harmless flirtations’”—she did air quotes against the steering wheel—“have put me on notice that he thinks about me way too much given that I’ve never encouraged him, not for a second. Well, maybe that one time when we were in, what was it, fifth grade? And I let him kiss my cheek. We slow danced holding each other the full length of our arms apart.” She laughed, this time sounding like herself. “You remember that?”

I grinned at the memory despite the somber tone that preceded it. “We thought we were being so daring. I’m pretty sure I held on to Duncan Mills’s shirt like it was a smelly sock.”

Layla glanced at me, waggling her brows. “Hot stuff there, Joss.”

I laughed, allowing my thoughts to drift to simpler times, even for a few moments. “So how long’s Rich been at the gifts and texts?”

“Oh, not long, really. I def would’ve told you guys by now, but it’s only been since Brady’s accident.”

“Wait,” I said. My phone buzzed with an incoming text, and I reached for my bag at my feet. “That’s only been a few weeks. How often are you getting these things in the mail, then?”

Her smile remained, but her fingers tightened around the steering wheel ever so slightly. “Every few days or so.”

“Lay…”

“I know, I know. I should’ve told you all.”

“Yeah, you should’ve.” I brought my head back against the seat rest. “ Fuck . What a creepoid!”

“He’s too rich for his own good. He thinks he can have whatever he wants.”

“Well, he can’t have you.”

“No shit. He can never have me.” She flicked another look at me as we neared the high school. “Don’t worry. It’s not a big deal.”

“You know it is.”

“Okay, yeah, it is. It gets under my skin each time I get something from him. But given what happened to Brady, I can’t complain. We’re all alive. We’re fine.”

“Um, that does not become your new benchmark of okay-ness. What happened to Brady was awful, of course it was, but that doesn’t diminish whatever’s going on with you. Now I’m extra glad Brady punched Rich in the face yesterday.”

Layla giggled. “Me too. Gotta admit, I was wishing I’d been the one to do it.”

“There’s still time.” I checked my phone before tossing it back into my bag.

“What? Who is it?”

“Oh, just my mom again.”

Layla looked at me. “She’s still going on about how you left yesterday morning without saying a proper goodbye?”

I’d received ten messages from my mom yesterday. At first they were scolding. I should have waited for her to say goodbye. I should have asked for permission to spend the night instead of just assuming I could. That wasn’t how our family did things, yada yada. But when my responses had been terse, she’d adjusted her tone, telling me she loved me and just wanted to spend more time with me. This was the first text of the day. I hoped it would also be the last.

“She’s wishing me a wonderful day at school.”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Oh em gee, she’s two steps away from becoming my mom.”

“Sorry to tell you this, but even though my mom’s a liar and possibly a motherfucking spy , your mom still takes the cake. She’s ready to sprout wings so she can follow Brady around wherever he goes. She’d go to the bathroom with him if he let her, I think.”

Layla’s face screwed up in disgust. “I think she really would. That’s disgusting. Brady takes the smelliest shits. Thank God I have my own bathroom or I’d need a hazmat suit.”

“Speaking of your brother…” I said as Layla slowed Bonnie to a crawl before turning into our school, glaring at every single reporter waiting for Brady at the entrance.

“Kitty’s not here,” I noted. “It’s like she knows he’s not at school. That’s nuts.”

A couple of cars piled up behind us before Layla and I gave the vultures a final death glare and she sped up. My middle fingers were itchy with the need to point at them. But after the news team got a few shots of Brady and Griffin flipping them off, which they shared in their online newsfeed, we held back.

Sitting back in her seat, Layla shook her head. “She obviously knows he got suspended. Someone’s tipping her off.”

I sighed. “Yup. Just like she probably has someone at the hospital giving her updates.”

“What a bitch. Too bad she’s not here today. Maybe I could’ve punched her for my R and R.”

I laughed. “Bitches beware.”

“That’s right, girl. Bitches beware. I’m in a mood .”

“Aren’t you always?” I deadpanned, but couldn’t help cracking a smile as she playfully smacked my arm. “Ow,” I said on another laugh.

But then Layla scowled, and I followed her line of sight to Rich holding court around a brand-new Hummer that shone like it was fresh off the car lot. We studied him, the girl hanging off his arm, and the crowd of groupies checking out his new wheels, until we parked at the opposite end of the parking lot from him.

Layla put Bonnie in neutral, yanked on the emergency brake, and pocketed the keys. “I see Nina Waits likes his new toy.”

“Looks like a lot of people like his new toy. I thought he and Nina dated a while ago before she dumped his ass.”

“Dunno. I don’t keep up with the revolving door of girls he goes through. You’d think there’d be enough of them that he wouldn’t need to bother with me.” She pushed open her door, grabbed her stuff, then gave me a wink. “Of course, none of them compare to me.”

I winked back. “Not even a little bit.” After climbing out of the car, I scanned the lot. “Where are Griff and Hunt?”

“In my dust, no doubt.”

I snorted, already texting Hunt since Griffin would likely be driving, but Clyde’s signature growl alerted me to their arrival before I could hit send. A minute later, Griffin’s hand skimmed across my lower back in greeting, sending tingles sweeping across my skin.

“Hey, Joss,” he said, pitched low enough that his words felt intimate despite our being out in the open among our friends.

“Hey, Griff,” I said, sounding like sex to my own ears before clearing my throat and doing my damnedest to pretend his touch and voice didn’t do things to me. “Hey, Hunt,” I added in my haste to sound normal.

“Please tell me he didn’t trade in his truck and get that to go mudding in,” Hunt said, eyes on Rich and his entourage.

“I wouldn’t put it past the moron,” Layla said as we headed toward the buildings, all eyes on the bright yellow mini-tank Rich didn’t need.

“Hunt,” a feminine voice called from behind us. We all turned.

Zoe Wills loped toward us, her fingers hooked through the straps of her backpack as it bounced behind her. When she reached us, she beamed. “Hey, guys! How’s it going?”

“Hey, Zo,” Hunt said, while I smiled a greeting at her. She seemed friendly enough. “We’re checking out Rich’s new plaything.”

“Do you mean the Hummer or Nina?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and I decided I might like her.

“Def the car,” Layla said. “Who cares who he’s with now? It won’t last long either way.”

“True that,” Zoe said, settling next to Hunt as we started walking again. “Now he’s got the Hummer, still has his F-150, and apparently also a brand-spanking new Camaro, though I haven’t seen it yet. What a kid our age could need three cars for, I have no idea, but he’s got ’em. And Nina.”

I harrumphed, glancing over my shoulder at the Hummer. It was big and fancy, no doubt, but I preferred our Mustangs any day of the week.

“Apparently he’s got some billionaire uncle in town who’s buttering him up with all the toys,” Zoe added.

“Why?” Layla asked. “Did this billionaire uncle arrive and find him wanting for luxury?” She shook her head, flicking her hair out of her face.

Rich lived in a house three times the size of any of ours, alone with his parents. They had indoor and outdoor swimming pools, a hot tub, and an actual tennis court for his mom, who enjoyed the sport and, rumor had it, also her private instructor.

“Who knows?” Zoe said. “Maybe when you’re rich as sin, the only way forward is more excess.”

“Maybe,” Layla said, not sounding convinced.

“Hey, guys! Hold up.”

That voice had me tensing beside Griffin, already wondering which of us was going to get Layla’s wish of a suspension and some R and R.

We whirled around to face Rich, who was jogging toward us, Nina and his buddies lingering behind around his new car.

“What the fuck do you want, Rich?” Griffin snarled the second Rich slid to a stop next to us. “Haven’t you done enough already?”

For a brief moment, something akin to real feelings, actual remorse, flitted across Rich’s face before it disappeared behind his usual haughtiness. A purple bruise cast one side of his jaw in shadow.

Rubbing at it gingerly, he cleared his throat, flicked his stare to the ground at our feet, then asked, “How’s Brady doing?”

“That’s none of your fucking business,” Griffin said. “You leave him alone.”

Griffin sounded like a bear woken from hibernation, and Hunt vibrated with tension. If anyone was going to throw a punch, my bet was on Hunt first, then Griffin right behind him.

Glancing away toward the empty sports fields that lined one side of the parking lot, Rich said, “I’m sorry for what happened, you know. I didn’t mean for things to go down the way they did.”

“You should be telling my brother that, not us,” Layla ground out.

Rich met Layla’s waiting eyes. “He doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” she snapped like a whip on bare skin.

“It’s not…” He sighed and rubbed a hand across his neck. “Look, I only came over here to ask you guys something.”

We waited.

“Well?” I barked.

He jumped, then scowled at me. I bared my teeth at him.

He frowned. “My uncle’s in town and he asked me to ask you if you’d meet up with him. Not you, Zoe. Just the usual crew.”

I felt my brow scrunching while Hunt asked, “What’s he want with us?”

“I got no idea, but he says it’s urgent.”

“So?” Griffin said. “You might be his puppet, but he’s not buying us toys. We don’t owe him shit. We don’t even know who he is.”

“He won’t like you saying no.”

“That’s his problem,” I said. Then we turned as a group and walked away, leaving Rich standing there alone.

“Actually, don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up,” I said, and before anyone could question me, I ran after Rich, who was already shuffling back toward his Hummer, as dejected as if Layla had cut him down yet another time.

I grabbed him by the arm to get his attention and he spun around, fists up. When he saw it was me, he relaxed. It would be so nice to show him the many reasons he shouldn’t underestimate me. Just because I wasn’t a big muscled-out dude like Brady didn’t mean I didn’t pack a punch. Our many years of wannabe ninja training made sure of that.

Standing halfway between my friends and his, a cocky smile transformed Rich’s face. “Whazzup, foxy Joss-y? Ya want some of this after all?”

I inhaled and exhaled with a strong reminder that my deal with my parents was my car and its parts for straight A’s. Possible suspensions had never entered the oral contract, but I didn’t want to push my luck, not with so much work still to go on my baby, Cleo. I willed down my temper.

“No, Rich, I don’t. And neither does Layla. Neither of us ever will, so leave her the hell alone already.”

“She can tell me that herself then. We can all see Griffin’s got the hots for you, but Hunt’s not after her.”

Forcing myself to move past Rich’s offhanded comment about Griffin, I said, “Bullshit. She’s told you a thousand times. Knock it off. No more texts, no more shit in the mail. Isn’t what happened to Brady bad enough?” I pinned him with my most ferocious glare. “Drop it. Don’t think about Layla again. Actually, don’t ever talk to her again either. Just leave her the fuck alone, for good.”

But Rich was shaking his head, a line of confusion between his brows. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb.” I snorted. “Well, dumber than usual, anyhow. Back off. No more texts, no more romantic little packages. Or you’ll have me to deal with, and I promise you, getting me won’t be as fun for you as you think.”

I turned on my heel and prepared to stalk off.

“Wait. Joss, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about. I—”

“Joss?” Griffin’s voice came from behind me.

Hurriedly, I whispered to Rich, “Play stupid all you want, I don’t care, just no more . And I mean it. Leave my friends all the way alone and you and I won’t have any problems.”

Before he could answer, I ran the few steps to reach Griffin. Hunt, and Layla were directly behind him, concern tugging on their faces. Zoe waited for us at the hallway that led to the lockers.

“What was that about?” Griffin asked, glare pinned on Rich’s retreating back as if it could do actual damage.

“Nothing big. I had some things I wanted to get off my chest. Let’s get to class.” And since Zoe was out of earshot, I added, “We’ve just gotta get through today and then we can figure out what we do next. My place after school? I’m itching to make more progress on my Cobra.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Hunt said, then to Layla, “Will Celia let Brady come over?”

She sighed dramatically. “I’m sure she’ll cave. All she did was take away his driving privileges over the suspension, but he didn’t have those anyway since she’s still going on about him being too ‘infirm’ to drive and all that BS. Even if she tells him no , he’ll be able to butter her up and get away.”

I grunted. “Yeah, he can just drop her a morsel about his dreams and she’ll be putty in his hands.”

“What do you mean?” Hunt asked.

But Zoe was moving in our direction, so I said, “We’ll fill you in over lunch. Just make sure Zoe doesn’t come with.”

Then Layla and I plastered on smiles for Zoe’s sake and aimed for our lockers. I hid behind its door while my thoughts returned to what Rich had said about Griffin.

Was Rich just messing with me?

When Griffin’s hand once more swept along the strip of skin exposed between my cutoffs and my tank top, I couldn’t be sure.

“Ready?” he asked, his hazel eyes more gold in the morning light that streamed in through the small windows high above the lockers.

I nodded, daring to ask myself, Ready for what, exactly?