Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(26)

I swiped the bills off the floor and froze.

Impossible.

“Something wrong?” Nixon asked in an irritated tone.

“Uh, no, yeah, umm…” I didn’t really know what else to do, so I handed him the stack of bills. The same stack that was wrapped in a one hundred dollar bill, in order to cover the ten one-thousand dollar bills.

“Shit,” he muttered, then pulled out his own wallet. He swiped his card in the ATM and punched in his code, then placed the card on the little table while he pulled out his cell. “No, you ass. I didn’t have cash on me. Yes, I know I can be traced. Who pays you, dipshit? Who? That’s what I thought. Now deal with it.”

“Abandonato,” I whispered under my breath reading the card while simultaneously trying not to eavesdrop. “Is that your last name?”

He didn’t answer me. Instead he was firing off instructions to someone on the other end of the phone and grabbing the receipt.

Well, at least the checker didn’t look bored anymore. Nope, he looked like he was about five seconds away from shitting his pants.

And then things got weird. As in, weirder than they already were.

The men in suits formed a circle around us as we walked back to the car, and that’s when I saw a glimpse of something I’d only seen in movies.

A group of expensive cars in the parking lot and even more expensive-looking men and old men getting out of the cars.

Nixon said nothing as we got into our waiting SUV. Neither did I. I wasn’t sure if I should be freaked out that so many men in suits were surrounding us or what.

“Are we, um… are we safe here?” I asked in a small voice.

Monroe was already sitting in the SUV and put her hand on my shoulder. “Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

“Oh you know, because of that.” I pointed as a man that looked as old as Grandpa pulled out a gun I’d only seen in action movies, and walked into the store.

“Um, are we witnessing a murder?”

Tex and Monroe laughed while Nixon shook his head and offered a smile. “No sweetheart, just business. That’s all.”

He handed me my wad of cash and looked back at Monroe and Tex. “You guys need to go. We have some more shopping to do, and it—”

Monroe rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can imagine how it will be.” She smiled in my direction. “See ya later!”

They hopped out of the car and walked to the other waiting SUV in front of us.

“What was that about?” I asked, shoving the money back into my purse.

“It’s going to be a long afternoon.” Nixon whistled.

“Why?”

“Because we are freaking living our own Romeo and Juliet.” He smirked and hit his steering wheel. “Alright, new bag right?”

“Yeah, oh, and I need to pay you for the groceries too. I feel so stupid. I had no idea I had big bills, or that they even existed, or that Grandpa…” My voice trailed off. Why would Grandpa give me such big bills? Was that why he wanted me to hide it?

“Those bills went out of circulation in the fifties. You know that right?” Nixon asked.

I shrugged and started playing with the radio. “Sorry, I’ll figure out a way to cash them out so I can pay you.”

“You don’t understand.” He laughed humorously. “I would never accept your money. Ever.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s no good to me!” He snapped. “Just drop it.”

Was it because I was beneath him? Because I was from a farm and poor? I crossed my arms over my chest and looked out the window. We were silent the entire way to the mall.





Chapter Twelve


Two of the SUV’s followed us to the mall and two more were waiting for us when we got there. The minute I jumped out of the Range Rover, Nixon grabbed my hand and didn’t let go.

I wish I could say that I didn’t feel the warmth of his touch spreading all throughout my body. But I did. And it was amazing. He smiled as we made our way through the front doors, and I could almost imagine that this was normal. That we were just hanging out and shopping like two normal people.

Instead, we were being followed by a security detail that would irritate President Obama and stared at as if we were going to bomb the Food Court.

I hated to admit that I had no experience shopping. I wasn’t really sure what to do, but I didn’t want Nixon’s charity or anything. “Do they have a second hand store or something here?”

He looked horrified as if I just asked if there were any puppies to kick.

“Hell, no. Second hand store? Are you—” He cursed and shook his head. “Second hand? A freaking used clothing store?”

“Okay, you can stop repeating it already,” I snapped, trying to jerk my hand free from his vice-like grip.

“Girls like you don’t shop there.”

And there it was again. Girls like me. Girls who didn’t belong in Elite, who shouldn’t be salivating over their student body president. I felt my face heat and dropped my gaze to the ground. “Um, what about a Ross? Or Wal-Mart or something?” I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even look at him.

He stopped walking, making me almost trip as he released my hand and cupped my chin. “Trace, did you not hear anything I just said?”