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turns it toward us, he’s pointing at the number representing the army who hang on his every word.

“If nearly two million IG followers is weak, you can kiss my ass,” he adds.

Surprised, Sterling stares at the number in silence. Pretty sure no one’s ever shut him up quicker than Dane just did.

“What time’s this dude supposed to meet you?”

I sound tense as hell when asking, but it comes from not hearing from Southside when she got out of practice. I’ve gotten used to checking in, making sure she’s made it home okay. But now that we know our calls and texts are compromised, we agreed to cut off all communication that’s not face-to-face.

Which fucking sucks.

Dane checks the time. “Soon. I should probably head out in a bit.”

The magic number is seven—three for us, two for Southside and Scar, one for Joss, and one for that dick, Ricky.

Problem with being a triplet is that the other two seem to read your mind sometimes. Especially when you don’t want them to.

“Listen, we know you hate the guy, but it’s looking like we might need him.”

Leave it to Sterling to be the voice of reason.

He takes the football off my dresser, then tosses it. I snatch it out of the air, still zoning out.

“Doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it.”

He nods when I finish grumbling. “Never said you had to like it, but he knows things we don’t and has access to things we don’t. Besides, Southside trusts him, so…”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I scoff. “Last thing I need is one of you to start fangirling over this asshole, hanging from his nuts and shit.”

When I pass the ball to Dane with more power than I mean to, he nearly misses it, but mostly because he’s laughing at my grumpy ass.

“Relax. I think Sterling’s just pointing out the obvious—that it makes sense to bring him in on things,” he reasons. “Besides, regardless of whether he’s still holding on to her, everyone with eyes can see Southside’s not into him anymore.”

This just in: I’d level her entire fucking neighborhood if I thought otherwise.

I’m focused on the ball when it soars from Dane’s hands to Sterling’s, then back into mine.

Dane laughs to himself. “If it makes you feel any better, Joss thinks it’s ‘sweet’ that you’re jealous.”

I don’t even respond to that shit, because he knows it doesn’t make me feel better.

Sweet, my ass…

“Where is she, anyway?” I ask when he mentions Joss’s name. She’s been hanging with us so much lately it feels weird not having her around, getting on my case about shit.

“The dance squad got roped into being on the Snow Ball committee,” he answers.

Ah, the Snow Ball—Cypress Prep’s annual Christmas dance, another bullshit way to syphon money out of the student body. My aversion to this time of year means I’ve never been. Not even once.

“Yeah, she can keep that shit,” I grumble, falling back on the mattress after I make a clean pass to Dane.

“She’ll find some way to talk us all into going since she’s involved in the planning. Just accept it. It’ll be less painful,” Dane says.

I don’t even have room in my head to think of all the reasons that sounds about as fun as a kick to the balls.

Sterling moves back toward the window and I know he’s counting down, just like I am. We agreed I should wait twenty minutes from the time Vin got in from work—or wherever the hell he’s been—before heading up to see him. That twenty-minute window is just about closed now, which means I’m about to look him in the eyes for the first time since he visited Southside. And as much as she doesn’t want me confronting him, it’d be out of character for me not to. So, if we want him to keep thinking we’re not up to anything, I have to respond the way he’d expect.

By going off on his ass.

I have to be smart, though. He can’t know specifics—about Southside caving and telling the whole truth, that her brother warned her about the phones.

All he needs to know is that I saw Pandora’s update. Translation: he’s about to know once and for all that he fucked up. Royally.

Dane stands and my gaze rises with him. “You heading out?” I ask.

He nods. “Yup.”

“I’ll ride with you,” Sterling offers.

“Cool. We’ll meet back here when everything’s done. And if I’m lucky, I won’t lose my shit and do something stupid while I’m up there with Vin,” I add with a laugh.

Guess it’s not really funny, though, seeing as how I’d love to light into him.

The guys head out and I’m on my feet, too. It’s go-time.

“Pretty sure I raised you to knock before barging into a damn room, didn’t I?”

I ignore Vin’s bullshit and slam the door to his study behind me. Despite the fact that twenty-four hours have passed, I’m still just as pissed as the second I laid eyes on the image of Southside climbing out of his SUV. He sees it, the rage spilling over, and it has him on his feet, staring back as I charge toward his desk.

“Mind telling me what the fuck you were doing at Blue’s house last night?”

He doesn’t speak, but the slow smirk spreading across his face says it all. It tells me he thinks what I feel for Southside means nothing. It tells me that he sees her the same way he sees every other girl in this town—as an expendable resource.

“I think you should bring the volume down before we continue this conversation, son.”

“Son?” I scoff, wishing I could say more. “Just… answer the fucking question.”

He’s calm—or at least pretending to be—while I’m anything but that.

“You’re clearly hopped up on emotion, but didn’t I warn you about her several weeks ago? She’s toxic.”

I know where this is going and I’m already shaking my head. “No. Bullshit.”

“Think what you want, but I came to you like a man. Even laid my sins bare so

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