Pretty Reckless (All Saints High #1)(93)

“You’ll come because I know where you live, and if you make me come to you, I will, and without witnesses, you will fare so much worse. You too, Stimatzky.” I look up to meet Colin’s gaze. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

I storm out, hearing Knight yell, “I knew it,” and lockers slamming in the distance.

Not all the All Saints High team are fuckers. But their captain is.

War is a universal language. Christian, Jew, Buddhist, or a Muslim. Beautiful or ugly. Rich or poor.

They’re about to find out that it is especially vicious when you’re the underdog.





“I need to tell you something, bro.” Kannon bounces his knee fast and furious while we drive back from the hospital and toward the snake pit. We had to make a stop at Cam’s bedside to give him the football we used for the win, signed by all of us, and while we were at it, we took him some greasy-ass food he’d never be able to get from the gross canteen.

“Spit it out.” I roll my window and spit out phlegm. My mind’s not on the fight I’m about to walk into. My mind is back in the Followhill mansion, where Daria is packing her bags to fly fuck knows where. Jaime and Mel are going to drive her to the airport tomorrow, and they already made it clear that this is one family function the Scullys are not invited to.

Daria was a rock star today, telling me to save my own ass because hers was already on fire. But when she stood there and yelled at me, her hair up and her neck exposed, the only thing I could focus on was the fact the sea glass necklace was no longer there.

I punch the steering wheel.

“Whoa. What’s wrong with you?” Kannon asks.

Everything. Every-fucking-thing is wrong with me.

“Just say what you gotta say, K.”

“First, I want to know what was up on that field, Penn.”

“Nothing. And if you don’t say what you have to say right now, I’m throwing you out of the car,” I inform him matter-of-factly without missing a beat.

“Well, shit, I was kind of hoping you’d be in a better mood but better late than never, I guess. So remember the first game of the season? Against the Saints?”

“How could anyone forget?” I throw the car into park in front of the snake pit. The lights are already on, and there’s more commotion than usual. In fact, it looks like my entire school is heading toward it. All Saints High, too. Dozens of kids are marching through the gates that have been busted open somehow, and a cold sweat finds its way to the back of my neck.

“We threw the game,” Kannon says.

I twist my head toward him. “Repeat that.”

“We threw the game.” He looks down at his hands. “The whole team did. Well, other than you and Camilo. Gus didn’t even think to approach you. We figured we looked so good, we could handle losing one game. Gus paid us five hundred bucks each. You know how it is, bro. Turning down money is not in the cards for most of us. Whether it’s for gear, shoes, or to help our folks with the rent…or, hell, you know? Just to eat at Lenny’s and live. Even those of us who didn’t need the money didn’t wanna ruin it for those who did.”

“You sold the game?” I can feel the tics in my eyelids. Never a good fucking sign.

He groans, throwing his head against his headrest. “We took State, man, and not thanks to you, so don’t give me this shit.”

Wordlessly, I step out of the vehicle and round it, opening Kannon’s door and throwing him out on the ground. I’m now oblivious to the growing crowd streaming into the snake pit. The only thing I can see is his face when he realizes he shouldn’t have confided in me.

I straighten him up against the car and squat down to his eye level.

“You try to throw any other games this season?” I park my elbows on my knees, squinting.

He shakes his head. “But I know Gus bought pretty much all of ASH’s games.”

“With what money?”

“The betting ring. He makes money there, then uses it to pay off players from other teams.”

“That’s thousands of dollars.”

“Vaughn loves to fight, and people love to think others have a fucking chance against him.” Kannon shrugs.

“What happened tonight, then?”

Kannon shakes his head. “He came to Josh the other night—Josh is the one who’s been listening to him since he has nothing to lose, and all. Gus tried to up his price. A thousand per head. And…until yesterday, people were going to do it. I wasn’t going to anymore, bro, I swear, but I couldn’t snitch on the others. Hell, people need this money for medicine for their parents and diapers for their baby siblings, and I’m no snitch.”

“What changed?”

“When they did what they did to Camilo…when he didn’t want to take part in this…I guess that’s when we officially lost our shit and decided enough was enough. It just didn’t sit right with us anymore. Him screwing around with your twin and trying to ruin your team.”

Anger bubbles in my blood, and I grab the collar of his shirt and raise my fist, about to put a hole in his face, when he looks me in the eye, dead calm, and says, “You have bigger fish to fry than me, brother.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look behind you.”

I twist my head and see the pink Jeep my sister has been using, parked across from where we are. I watch Via pouring out of it, hand in hand with none other than Daria herself. My fist drops as I gravitate toward them, my legs carrying me there without even meaning to, mesmerized.