Fallen Crest University (Fallen Crest High #5)(87)

“What?” His hands came out of his pockets. He gripped the couch in front of him. “What are you talking about? What just happened?”

I said to Sam, “He’s too close to them.”

She darted forward, grabbing the flash drive before Garrett could, but her biological father never tried. His jaw was set forward, and he wore a deep frown. He asked, “What did you just decide about me?”

“Nothing.” Sam answered for me. Her hand closed over the flash drive, and she backed up to stand next to me. Her shoulder hit my chest. Her hand lifted, and I took the flash drive from her. “It’s nothing…Dad.”

His eyes sharpened on her. To my knowledge, it was the first time she called him that. She was manipulating him. He was the enemy, and he knew we had something on his side, on The Network.

“Whatever you guys are going to do, fill me in on it. You’re my daughter, Sam. Please let me in. Please.” He was pleading.

She bit down on her lip. If she could have stepped backward, she would’ve. She was plastered against me, leaning her whole body on me so I was supporting her as she was staring at her father. I felt the struggle inside of her. She told me about her little sister. Sam was going to love that little girl. She already did, but our next move could sever that tie between her and her sister. Garrett was on the flash drive. He was going to be hurt by it, and now he knew that we would be behind it. He knew Sam was behind it. It would be up to him, with what he decided to do afterward.

He could take her sister away from her.

I asked, “You want to be in Samantha’s life?”

“You know I do.”

“Then prove it.” Sam stepped forward, straightening from me. “This information is going to come out. When it does, have our backs.”

“You guys have no idea what you’re about to do, do you?”

“No.” I clipped my head to the side. “We’re not little kids. We’re not teenagers. Fuck. We’re not even regular college students. Fighting. Battling. Waging wars—this is what we do. The Network, or whatever the hell you guys call your group of people, it doesn’t matter how connected you are, it’s always the same thing. Someone comes at us, we go back at them. As for how we do it, a little faith here. It’ll come out, but you’re the only one who will know it came from us.” I waited a second, then added, “I guess Sam will have her answer with how you handle that information.”

He didn’t said a word.

His head lowered a little bit. He stared at Samantha for another full minute before he finally just turned and left. I waited for a breakdown or an explosion, but nothing came. It was going to hurt her. There was no way around that. Whatever Garrett did afterward, if he exposed us or if he kept quiet, I still knew that his reaction in the hotel room struck Sam deep.

“You okay?” I asked her later in bed.

She nodded. “Same shit, different day.”

Brushing back her hair, I tucked it behind her ear and my hand lingered, cupping the side of her face. “I’m sorry about Garrett.”

“Don’t be.” She took my hand in hers and then lifted both of them to my face. She cupped the side of my face instead and smiled at me. There were shadows in her eyes, but there was love. So goddamn much love. She added, simply, “I don’t need him. I have David back in my life. I have Malinda. I even have a brother in Mark, but more importantly, I have you and Logan. I have you.” She pressed our hands more firmly against my face. “I need you. That’s all I need.”

A tear welled up on the inside of her eyelid. It stayed there. She didn’t shed it, and her eyes gleamed bright, promising to me. “You are all I need.”

I lifted up with my other hand and touched the side of her eyelid. The tear slipped, falling onto my hand. “You’ll know your sister. We won’t let him keep her away.”

“I know.”

That was it. That was all she said. We were one unit again.

SAMANTHA

The party wasn’t what I expected. I’d assumed to see boozing, beer pong, chugging contests, and half-naked chicks running around the lawn. When I pulled past the opened gate at the end of the driveway, I felt like I was driving into the Fallen Crest Country Club.

Maseratis, Corvettes, Ferraris, BMWs, Rolls-Royces—those were among the cars in the parking lot. As an attendant waved me to the house, I saw there was valet parking.

Well, shit.

Park Sebastian really did own his own country club.

“Ma’am.” The attendant held his hand out, looking younger than me.

I sighed and handed over the keys. My little Corolla had been with me since the beginning. I patted the front as I rounded the car and said, “Be nice to her. She’s revved up for the evening. She might be a little tense.”

He frowned, pausing, and then he rounded the opened door right before he got behind the wheel. I felt his eyes on me. I ignored them and headed inside, but I stopped as soon as I passed the threshold. A large chandelier hung from the ceiling.

A waiter greeted me right away. He offered a tray of champagne. I was tempted to take the whole thing.

Shaking my head, I murmured, “No, thank you.”

He didn’t seem to care, extending it to a group of people before me. They, however, didn’t hesitate. The tray was empty within seconds, and the waiter tucked the tray under his arm, bending his head down. He slipped away. Another waiter appeared, as if magically summoned. He held a tray of champagne as well, but a second waiter was beside him. That one was filled with chocolate-covered strawberries along with some other crepe-looking desserts. It was all very fancy.