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CHAPTER FIVE

  And it just keeps getting better.

  Nixon

  Everything was in place. De Lange, the ass, couldn't be more thrilled about enrollment that year. But me? It made me nervous. Too many kids, too many background checks, too many possible loose ends. Mother of God, just shoot me now and get it over with. If I wasn't so tired from staying up until four a.m. doing said background checks, I'd probably be more amused at the fact that Mo had taken Trace as her new pet.

  Like a cow.

  Only cows weren't pets.

  And Trace was like a goddess come to life. No make that a freaking ghost of a goddess come to make my life an absolute freaking hell.

  I pasted a smile on my face like I always did and waited in the middle of the room as students started trickling in for the welcome party. The ones that waved were regular students. The ones that nodded? All in my pocket. Let's just say, I had more in my pocket than was probably legal at a private university, but this was the last year we had.

  I had to get it right.

  To not only clear my family's name… but to avenge her death. If I was being completely honest, it was more about her than me.

  But I'd never tell my family that. I'd take it to my grave, just like she took all her innocence to hers.

  My throat clogged up.

  Damn it!

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Not now. I couldn't show weakness. But all I could see were her giant brown eyes and wide smile. The same smile that had trusted me to make everything better when things seemed so dark.

  My best friend.

  Taken from me.

  I'd been in the box that night… the night she died. My father had put me there on account that I'd shamed the family again by dropping my glass on the floor. It had slipped out of my hands, not my fault, but according to him, lazy, worthless, my fault. Even if I hadn't dropped that glass or been put in that box, it wasn't like I could have done anything. But in my mind… at least I could have tried, right? How stupid was that? I would have been what? Ten? Most likely I would have died too.

  But at least, maybe, possibly, I would have died with some dignity, because I was convinced if I could have reached her fingertips, my last breath would have been her name — my last touch her skin. And I would have prayed for God to save her soul and take mine in its place. After all, when you're born into sin, you don't really have a lot to bargain for.

  The room got progressively louder as more students filed in.

  Chase approached, drink in hand, people congregated around, and I was so not feeling it. I just wanted the world to pause. For a minute. I needed a giant-ass timeout.

  Time. Funny, people have no idea how much of it is wasted with their own insignificance. I wasted nothing.

  Because in the end, she'd been given nothing. How was it fair for me to waste time I'd been given when she didn't have any at all?

  I closed my eyes again and forced a smile when Chase smacked me on the back and threatened to cut off my balls if I didn't get it together.

  He always saw through me.

  Just like I always saw through his bullshit.

  "Well, hot damn." Phoenix whistled next to me.

  I jerked my head up, opening my eyes.

  Trace walked in, wearing what I can only assume was something out of Mo's closetful of whores — not horrors. Whores.

  "Damn it." I kept the mocking grin in place then stared her down. "Is she trying to get that much attention? Even after she cried in front of us?"

  "Well," Chase's eyebrows rose a fraction. "She's getting it. She's getting all of it, and I can't say I blame any one of those guys for staring."

  "Stare any harder, and I will personally remove your eyes from your face," I growled, "with a freaking fork."

  "Whoa." Tex coughed. "Territorial much?"

  "No…" I smirked. "…just… tired."

  "Right." Chase and Tex shared a look. "Tired makes you look so sexually frustrated you're about five seconds away from humping the leg right off that chair."

  "Tex…" I clenched my jaw until it popped. "…go irritate someone else before I shoot you in the damn toe."

  "Wouldn't be the first time," he grumbled, walking off.

  Chase put his hand on my shoulder. "Nixon, whatever you're going to do, just don't… okay?"

  I shook his hand off and shrugged. "When you're the boss? That's when you can tell me what to do. Until then? Screw off."