Elite (Eagle Elite #1)(29)

“You weren’t here.” John stumbled over his words. “I swear.”

“And where did you see us?”

“On the street. You, uh, you were going for a run.”

“I do like running.” Nixon lightly smacked the kids shoulder and winked. “Thanks again, John.”

“N-no problem, Mr. Abandonato.”

I frowned the rest of the way to the car.





Chapter Thirteen I wasn’t really sure why I was so exhausted other than the fact that I had just had both the most emotionally draining and weirdest week of my life.

“One more stop.” Nixon had been driving back toward the school but took a left before we came to the right road.

Boo. Was I never going to get a vote in the matter? Was it wrong to use my new Prada backpack as a pillow?

“The bank?” I said once we stopped.

“Yup.”

“Why?”

Nixon laughed. “Asks the girl who’s carrying around thousand dollar bills. I take it you don’t have an account?”

Embarrassed, I shook my head.

“Well, let’s go then.” He jumped out of the car. I had no choice but to follow him into the large glass building. It was only four stories, but every angle and plane of the building was pointed as if it was some sort of angry porcupine.

Intimidated, I tried to stay close to him.

I noticed that we only had one security guard with us.

“Nixon, where’d the rest of the suits go?”

He turned and grabbed my hand but didn’t answer my question.

Okay, the silent game. I could play.

We walked right past all the desks where people were answering phones and working and went into the elevator.

Expecting it to go up, I gasped when it shot down into the basement.

The basement. Really?

He grabbed my hand again as we walked across a long marble hallway. In front of us was a giant wood desk. A girl with long dark hair sat there filing her nails.

“Hey, Priscilla, where’s Anthony?” Nixon asked.

“Oh, you know, sharpening kn—” Her mouth shut as she stood and held out her hand. “I’m sorry, and you are?”

“Trace.” I shook her hand. “Trace Rooks.”

She nodded and then glanced down at my necklace. “Rooks you say?”

“Yup.”

“Doesn’t sound like—”

“Pris, we need to open an account.”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Of course you do. I’ll just let Anthony know you are here.”

Nixon shook his head. “No need, I’ll let myself in.”

“Enter at your own risk, Nixon.”

“Come on.” Nixon tugged my hand. We took a left and walked down a shorter hallway lined with creepy old person photos of men in suits holding guns. Great. And we’re in a basement.

Nixon pressed his thumb against the magnetic thingy and the glass door opened. “Anthony?”

“In here.”

The office was beautiful. I thought we were in a basement, but technically there were still really wide windows toward the desk that looked out onto a pond. Was that a plane?

“We need to open an account,” Nixon repeated.

“We?” Anthony turned around.

Holy hell he looked like an older version of Nixon. Was this his dad? No, he was still too young. I waited for the introductions.

“Technically, she needs to open an account. I would have gone to one of the other branches, but lucky girl has thousand dollar bills.”

Anthony’s eyes widened briefly before he turned to me. “What did you do, rob a bank?” He cracked a smile.

I grinned back. “I didn’t know they were big bills. My grandpa gave me some money before I was dropped off at school and there was a fiasco with my uniform and bags and…”

“Fiasco?” Anthony’s brows lifted. “This I have to hear.”

“Anthony—” Nixon was cut off by the guy waving his hand in the air.

“Make yourself useful, Nixon, and grab yourself a drink.”

Nixon muttered a curse and walked over to a bar in the corner.

“So, you were saying?” Anthony nodded his head.

My palms began to sweat. “I, uh… the people at school kind of drenched me in sugar water and raw eggs. My messenger bag suffered a very slow, sticky death.”

“The worst kind I’m sure.” Anthony smirked.

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “I guess technically it’s my fault, since I rejected that one’s rules on the first day.” I pointed at Nixon who narrowed his eyes. “But he did save me from social suicide. Not that I was already high on the popularity totem pole anyways… but yeah. Long story short, we went shopping, I busted out my money. Nixon almost had a stroke. Men in suits entered the grocery store with guns. Pretty sure I’m going to see that on the evening news, and… now we’re here.”

Anthony’s face remained impassive. “Alright. Sounds like a normal day in the life of Nixon. Welcome to the family…” He held out his hand.

“Oh, no, no, no, no.” I laughed nervously. “No, it’s not like… that.”

I waved both hands in the air like a crazy person.