The Help (Kings of Linwood Academy, #1)(36)

My head whips toward the door, and I blink in surprise.

Iris? What the hell?

She storms toward Trent, furious and wild. Her mascara is a little smeared, and it looks like she’s been crying.

“This is why you couldn’t see me tonight? Fuck you!” Her voice is high pitched and breathy, and I see several of the dancers shoot annoyed looks her way. I’m sure they’ve witnessed scenes like this more than once before.

Trent freezes for a second, like a deer trapped in headlights, and then he holds out his hands, moving toward Iris as she storms toward him. “Baby, I…”

I can’t hear the rest of his response because he’s not screaming like she is. But whatever he says doesn’t placate her. She shoves his chest with both hands, and a second later, the bouncer is between them, speaking urgently to them both and pointing toward the door.

Trent makes some gesture to his friends, who are hanging back, having obviously decided not to get involved—then he storms toward the entrance with Iris on his heels.

Shit. So much for a fucking lap dance.

And are Iris and Trent together? I thought she and Savannah were still fighting over him; I didn’t realize one of them had actually made her move. I wonder if Savannah knows.

There’s no point in being in this stupid club if Trent’s not even here anymore, so I sneak toward the entrance and slip outside. He and Iris took a left outside the door and are moving at a fast clip down the cracked sidewalk. I quickly dart behind one of the cars parked on the street.

“What are you doing here, Iris?” he demands. “How did you even get here?”

“I took a cab!” she shoots back, as if that’s somehow damning evidence against him. “I just had to see if I was right. And I fucking was! This is why you stood me up? To stuff dollar bills in some whore’s twat?”

Ew. Iris gets a little flowery with language when she’s pissed, obviously.

“No, baby. It’s not like that. Some of the guys—” Trent starts, his tone defensive.

“I can’t be fucking around anymore, Trent!” she shrieks. “Do you understand that? I need to get serious. This. Is. Serious.” She stops for a beat, and I peer around the frame of the old car to see her staring at him with narrowed eyes several yards away. “You’re not the only one who’s interested in me, you know. You don’t just get to have me when you want and ditch me when you don’t. I need a real man. Someone who will be there for me. Who’ll take care of me. If you can’t do that, then I’ll find someone who can!”

I can’t see the blond football player’s face, but his back stiffens. “Fine. Find someone else then. I’m sick of this shit. Goddammit. I’m going home.”

He rips off his plastic crown and throws it on the ground, then turns around and starts stalking toward me. For a second, I panic. But his car is the one parked two ahead of the one I’m hiding behind. I crouch by the back bumper as I hear him open and close his door. A second later, the engine revs loudly and he peels out. I crane my neck to watch him go.

“Good riddance, you fucking asshole!” she screams after his retreating tail lights, picking up an empty Coke bottle from the curb and hurling it after him.

I sink back behind the car, resting the back of my head against the smooth metal surface for a second as I try to absorb what just happened. Iris is just about the last person I would’ve expected to see here—but I guess if the guys heard about Trent’s birthday plans, there’s no reason she wouldn’t have too. And she obviously didn’t like them one bit.

If she sees me here or finds out I just witnessed her blowup with Trent, she’ll probably recruit Savannah to make my life a living hell. So I stay hidden behind the row of cars as I move in a low crouch in the opposite direction. It’s awkward as fuck in heels and a short, skin-tight dress, but at least the whole point is that no one can see me.

When I’m far enough away to risk it, I stand and hurry through the darkness toward the side street where Lincoln said they would park. There are practically no street lights in this part of town, and the club itself only has one large flashing neon sign out front, so the little bit of moonlight is a blessing.

I almost don’t see the car parked several yards down the side street, and as I walk down the narrow road, I have a momentary flash of panic that they just took off and left me here. But then I see it.

Tugging open the door on Chase’s side, I don’t even bother waiting for him to get out. I just give him a push, and when he slides over, I climb in next to him.

“Well?” Lincoln cranes his neck to peer back at me. “Did you get it?”

“No.”

He scowls in the darkness. “What? Why not? Dammit, Pool Girl, you owe River—”

“Yeah, I tried,” I say testily. “I didn’t do it because Iris showed up.”

Chase’s forehead wrinkles. “What?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” I shrug. “She stormed into the club and reamed him out. Apparently, he stood her up in favor of strippers.”

“Did you know they were hooking up?” Dax asks. I’m not sure who he’s addressing, but nobody answers in the affirmative.

“Anyway,” I go on, “Trent left. So if you’re serious about getting incriminating footage of him, it’s gonna have to be some other time.”