Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(14)

My lips move without saying anything. The skin he just touched crawls with confusion. It’s repulsion, yet warmth at the same time. Stomach rolling, I attempt to get myself together. “I’m new.” I swallow, hoping I sound authentic. “I just met Oscar yesterday, if you can call it meeting at all. He thinks I’m only going to last two days in this school.”

Rocket looks me up and down, his perusal slow, steady, and unnerving. “He was generous.” I can’t help the annoyance that flits across my face. It makes Rocket laugh. “I can see why he’s all up in your business though. Oscar’s always liked shiny things. He likes to chase better tail, and we can tell you’re not from around here from a mile away.”

No kidding. Having an admin go down on someone in the main office who isn’t even a student never would’ve happened in my old school. Hell, it shouldn’t be happening in this school either.

“I wonder how jealous I can make Oscar…”

Rocket reaches out, but I move out of the way. “I don’t know Oscar. I don’t even know you.”

“You remember we met yesterday though, right?”

“Was that a meeting? From what I could see, you were busy.”

Rocket’s eyes dance. On the surface, they’re a similar color to Brawler’s, but Rocket’s are lighter like swimming in the Caribbean Sea. “I’m Rocket,” he says, inclining his head.

“Kyla,” I tell him. My fingers clench and unclench. I know he didn’t kill my parents. He didn’t pull the trigger, but he comes from the deranged man who did, and it’s hard to separate the two. I’ve seen blurry pictures of both. Their bone structure is similar, but Big Daddy K, leader of the Heights Crew, has thirty pounds on his son and thirty years. Neither is in the positive column.

I’m trying to accept the fact that Johnny Rocket is good looking. My brain tells me that. My eyes tell me that. But I can’t help but wonder if his soul is as dark as his father’s.

“Good to know,” Johnny says. He rakes his gaze down me, making me want to take these clothes off and burn them. He’s having entirely too much fun trying to see under them.

“What year are you in?” I ask because that sounds like a reasonable question for someone you’ve just met who’s standing in a school, even though I know he shouldn’t be. “I don’t think we have any classes together.”

The corners of his lips tip up. “Oh, we won’t be having any classes together. I graduated two years ago. I just like to stop by to check on my guys.”

“Your guys?”

“Friends,” he tells me, shrugging off the question. It looks like even he isn’t arrogant enough to spill that he’s a part of the Crew even though everyone knows it. Hell, he’s second tier. He’s runner-up to his father. In the years to come, he’ll be groomed to take his father’s place. He’ll reign supreme over all this. The school, the city, the people. There’s not a single person around that won’t be out of his reach.

Johnny Rocket is everything. And he knows it.





6





Seeing Johnny Rocket unnerves me for the rest of the day. Brawler follows me home, the whispers of Nevaeh and I fighting still thick in the air around us. I should be happy about this because this is what I wanted. I needed an in to fight. I have one. I’m not worried about fighting Nevaeh at all, I just didn’t think I’d see Johnny the first day I got to the Heights—or the second.

What if his father is around, too? Like a fly on the wall? Or the boogie man in the shadows? What if he’s around, and I just don’t know it?

The thought follows me all the way home, and even though Brawler stomps up the steps behind me since we live in the same hall, I go right to my apartment, lock all my locks, and walk right into the small bedroom to lie down, dropping my book bag on the carpet in the process. I feather a breath out, staring up at the ceiling, but not seeing it. Instead, I’m imagining everything that’s gone down in the years since my parents were taken from me. That’s how I get through times like this. Times when I wonder what I’m doing this for. I mean, I want the outcome. I want to have Big Daddy K’s life in my hands at the end but getting there is the problem. Every little step makes everything I’ve worked for and trained for all that much more real. The path is opening ahead of me like I thought it would, and I can’t help but second-guess things.

One Kyle and An-na. Two Kyle and An-na. These words are my calming motto. My reminder I have more to live for.

I fall asleep thinking about all of this, but I’m awakened later by hard knocks on the door. My eyes flit toward the hidden compartment below the shelf, wondering if I should grab the gun there.

It could be Nevaeh.

It could be Johnny.

It could be Big Daddy K, and somehow, they’ve put it all together and know what I’m here to do.

The banging persists, so I get up, tiptoeing my way to the door while straightening my clothes.

I’m about to peek through the peephole when a gruff voice says, “I know you’re in there, New Girl!”

I close my eyes briefly. Brawler’s on the other side of the door. I recognize the annoyance in his voice. Out of everyone it could be, he’s the safest to open the door for. In his way, he’s tried to protect me. Just to be sure it’s him, I check the peephole and then go through the process of unlocking all the locks when I recognize the tribal tattoos flowing up his arms. I pull the door open. “I hope you aren’t dropping off more cookies. I threw the last ones away.”