Taking a deep breath, like a performer about to reveal their greatest trick, Sophia leans closer. “I heard that like at least a dozen of the Gulch’s usual suspects got scooped up by the taskforce. The cops got them all on RICO charges.”
I glance at her, confused. “On what?”
“RICO.” At my still blank look, she just shakes her head. “They use it to take down big mafia guys and drug kingpins. If someone is part of a criminal organization, like a gang, then you can charge everyone with the same thing even if they weren’t directly involved. One guy gets caught selling drugs, and everyone can go down.”
I forget that her father is the Chief of Police. The dinner table small talk at their house probably gets real interesting. Maybe it’s because Sophia doesn’t seem like a real person to me, I find it difficult to remember that she is slightly more than the girl who will give me a blowjob whenever convenient. But let’s be honest, she acts like that’s all she wants to be.
But I don’t actually care about any of this true crime shit.
“What does that have to do with Zaya?”
“Well, her brother is a little budding hoodlum, right? From what I heard, he got picked up with a bunch of other people. I have no idea what he actually did, but right now he is facing the same charges. Serious ones.”
“Zion got arrested?”
“That’s what I just said.” She pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It was bound to happen eventually. Trash is as trash does.”
It doesn’t sit quite right with me that she calls him that, although I’m not sure why I care. If Zion is trash, then by extension the rest of his family is, too. Trash is one of the nicer words people use when talking about the poor souls dying slow deaths in the Gulch. Usually it doesn’t bother me, but for some reason today is different.
“Not everyone gets to be born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass.”
Her laugh is derisive. “You’re one to talk. Vin Cortland has never wanted for anything a single day in his life. It’s one of your best qualities.”
The whole Cortland empire is about to go up in flames. Perversely, I want to tell her that I’m a year from being broke just to see how she might react. She would probably dive out of the car while it was still moving to get away as fast as possible.
“So your dad says Zion is pretty screwed?” I ask instead.
“Not in so many words, I guess.” She has her phone out and starts texting, her interest in this topic already waning. “But unless the Milbournes have a fairy godmother I don’t know about, I’d say yes.”
Someone with a functional soul would feel sympathy for the guy rotting in a jail cell and his desperate family, but all I can think about is how to take advantage of the situation. I’m not the one who put him there, but ignoring this would be colossally stupid. Her family is the only leverage that has ever worked on Zaya, and I’m not about to kick a gift horse in the teeth.
I might not be a fairy godmother, but Zaya is about to find out I’m the only one who can wave a magic wand over the steaming shitpile of her life.
Twenty-One
Stress makes me oversleep, and I miss the school bus. Even with the three city bus transfers it takes to get to school, I make it right before the tardy bell rings.
Just in time to see Vin’s shiny red Maserati peel into the parking lot with a giggling Sophia in the passenger seat.
It’s pathetic that he thinks seeing her with him will make me jealous.
And even more pathetic that I feel a little bit jealous, even if I’d never admit it.
I don’t want Vin Cortland.
If I say it enough times, that just might make it true.
But right now, I really need to talk to him. I refuse to believe that my brother’s arrest is just some perfectly-timed coincidence. Vin must have something to do with it. He is going to fix this before I set him on fire.
Talking to him or anyone else while at school is strictly against the rules. That isn’t what stops me. When Sophia gets out of the car, long legs wide open despite the fact that her skirt barely covers her upper thighs, she runs around the car to wrap her arms around Vin’s waist.
I want to punch them both in the throat.
Turning away, I don’t bother to wait and see if he returns the embrace or pushes Sophia away. Apparently, the guy who is known for never engaging in public displays of affection has conveniently decided to change his ways. Outside of the infamous parties he throws at his pool house, Vin Cortland doesn’t do hugs and kisses. And even that is just him getting blowjobs from random girls while his friends play video games and drink.
But I don’t care about any of that.
No, it isn’t jealousy that makes me turn away, but the fact that I need to wait until Vin is alone. Sophia doesn’t have any place in my business. She gossips like she gets paid for it and is perpetually short on cash.
I slam open the double doors, and the sound is loud enough to echo off the concrete walls. A handful of students milling in the hallway look to see who is making all the commotion. But when they realize it’s me, all of them immediately turn away.
The forced isolation doesn’t usually get to me, because I’m so used to it. But today, the cone of silence is just one more shitty thing I can lay at Vin’s doorstep. He has spent the last four years doing his best to ruin my life, and so far he has been an unparalleled success.
By lunchtime, my anger
