Root (Band Nerd Book 2) Page 18

  “Don’t thank me yet, lillebror,” he cuts in. “No promises. I’ll see you soon.”

  The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call, and I look at the screen, my heart heavy. Not because I’ll see my brother again, but because by asking for his help, I’m putting him right back in the gray area that exists between right and wrong. I only hope he doesn’t have to step into the black to help us.

  “Hey Beau,” I hear Lena say.

  “Hey Lena girl,” comes his reply. “I brought some boxes and a dolly. Let’s get you out of here.”

  I slide my phone into my pocket and turn to see Savage entering with a look of sheer determination on his face. Yes, my pride is taking a hit right now, but I’d do it again and again. For her.

  Sadly enough, it doesn’t take us long to pack Lena’s place. Except for the furniture, which is all shit anyway, we fill up Savage’s truck, the back of my Bronco, and the trunk of Lena’s car in a little under three hours. I kept a watch out for Nathan as Savage and I carried boxes to the vehicles, but her stepfather never shows. Although, I could almost swear I see her mom’s figure outlined in one of the windows of their house. But the woman never comes out to see what’s going on.

  I know that upsets my girl, yet she keeps her chin up and works right alongside us despite me telling her we had it. Stubborn. But that’s part of the reason I love her. She’s not content just going along for the ride. She wants to be a full partner, fighting me tooth and nail to make that happen.

  As I follow her taillights through LaSalle to the Sauvage estate, my phone rings.

  “Yeah?” I answer.

  “Anders,” Rien grunts in my ear. “Got a lock on someone who’s done some work for the Swamp Dogs. I already contacted him. He’ll meet you and your girl tomorrow night at ten at the Yolande Barrault Memorial Park. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Rien,” I say before he can hang up again.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want you to take any unnecessary risks.”

  His laugh is low and flat. “Lillebror, you worry about playing football and making good grades. You let me worry about risks. Got it?”

  I groan. “Rien…”

  “Shut up, kid. Who’s this girl?”

  “She’s my girl,” I tell him without hesitation. What other people think about my relationship with Lena means jack shit to me. All that matters is how we feel about each other and how I’m going to fix this.

  He’s silent a moment before he grunts. “I’ll take care of everything. Just meet with the hacker tomorrow.”

  I straighten behind the wheel. “Hacker?”

  He snorts. “Yeah, what you thought? I was gonna beat the shit out of the guy, hoping he’d cough up the goods?” His laugh is real this time. “Fuck, kid, this is the twenty-first century. You wanna really hurt someone, you do it virtually, then you follow that shit up with a good ass whipping so they know not to fuck you around again.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just grunt, making him laugh again.

  “See you soon, kid.”

  “I’m staying with a teammate,” I say quickly. “Moving Lena out there, too. I’ll send you the address later on.”

  “That’s fine, but I’m bunkin’ with the Dogs. See you later.”

  He hangs up before I can say anything else. I shake my head. Yeah, I guess I kind of expected Rien to ride in, beat the shit out of Nathan to get a full confession and location of the tapes and links, before riding off into the sunset. But a hacker? It makes perfect sense and I wish I would’ve thought of that myself, except I don’t know any goddamn hackers. It isn’t like they advertise their services, right?

  Heaving a tired sigh, I let it go for now. I don’t want Lena anywhere near the Dead Legion or Swamp Dogs MCs, but it doesn’t look like I have much choice. I can only pray whatever favors Rien called in don’t come back to bite us all in the ass.

  Lena

  Going to school the next day is surreal. Okay, it started out wonderfully with a shower in one of the most amazing bathrooms I’ve ever seen, with Anders there to wash my back—and other things—and then I discovered Beau has a personal chef who makes the most delicious French Toast I’ve ever tasted. I must’ve complimented Mrs. Duthu at least a dozen times before Anders dragged me out of the door and stuffed me into his Bronco.

  I wasn’t sure what to think when Beau brought us to his house instead of one of the guest cottages. I wasn’t even sure this was the right thing to do, moving in with him, but he seemed so happy and eager to have us there, I couldn’t argue when he gave us a suite. Yes, a suite in a guest house. Apparently his place has two master suites and we got one while he has the other.

  I honestly thought about demurring, but that was until I sat on the edge of the bed while Anders looked around the room. Oh. My. God. If Anders didn’t already have my heart and soul, I would’ve lost it to the softest mattress in the world. I slept like a baby despite the horrible chain of events that took place that night, snug and secure in Anders’ arms.

  Plus I was still flying a little high from Anders’ rambling revelation about us moving in together. God, I thought my heart was going to explode. Do I want to spend every day and night with him? Yes! Do I think it’s a little soon for us to move in together? Maybe, but, on the other hand, I can’t imagine being without him. If we can get over this mountain of trouble, I think our relationship will be stronger and happier than ever.

  But as soon as we hit campus, all those thoughts and fears come crashing down on me. I can’t help but look at my fellow students and wonder if they ever have to worry about ending up an unwilling porn star, if they’re going to watch the video when it’s released. I’m trying to think positive because Anders is confident his brother can help, although it seems like a longshot.

  Besides, how in the hell were we going to be able to afford a hacker? Or trust they won’t hold the videos hostage for money or something?

  Those thoughts twisted in my head all day, making it hard to concentrate on my classes, but it isn’t until band practice that anyone actually notices my distraction.

  “What’s up with you?” Nessie asks as we wander to the practice field, tubas slung over our shoulders.

  I actually start at the question and give her what I know has to be a wild-eyed look. “What? Nothing.”

  She arches an eyebrow at me, but lets it go. Except I know my reprieve won’t last for long. I spend the entire practice trying to focus on the new show we’ve started, but it’s almost impossible. I came to college to learn, to study Education. If that video comes out… Well, it would be more than just my reputation that would be in danger. I’m not sure what kind of rules there are for teachers, but I imagine having a sex tape out there wouldn’t be something a school board would want on a résumé.

  Of course I try so hard to concentrate, I screw up even more. Frosty’s called me out at least three times and Little got me twice. Oh, and to make matters worse, my scattered thoughts mean I can’t remember the music. By the time Walker calls us off the field, I’m exhausted, embarrassed, and on the verge of tears.

  I can’t meet anyone’s gaze as we file off the field, certain they know. Paranoid, right? But just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you. And I swear it feels as though I have a massive, scarlet A on my back as I start for the band annex, everyone avoiding me like I have the plague.

  Except my friends, god love them, rally around me.

  “What’s wrong?” Becca asks as soon as we have some privacy, most of the students having practically sprinted for the hall.

  I paste on a plastic smile. “Nothing. Just have a lot going on right now.” Ugh, kill me now. My voice sounds about as fake as my smile. “I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I say truthfully, tacking on the lie. “I was up all night studying.”

  “Hm,” Becca hums, twirling her batons in her hands as though it’s second nature. “Studying, huh? Is that why Cube asked me why you were moving
out of your apartment in the middle of the night?”

  I feel the blood draining from my face before it returns with a vengeance after being caught in the lie. Still, I try to save it. I really do. “Oh yeah, I was going to mention that. Uh, Anders and I are going to move in together at the end of the semester, and uh, Beau offered us a room at his place until we can find an apartment.” Not a complete lie. “Isn’t that awesome?”

  They stop walking, forming a short wall in front of me. A wall of skeptical, concerned expressions.

  “What’s going on?” Jolene asks, reaching out to touch my arm. “You know if you need anything, we’re here.”

  “Always,” Nessie reaffirms with a nod of her head and a dark flash of some unknown emotion in her eyes. “We have your back no matter what, but we can’t help you if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”

  Becca folds her arms over her chest, her batons sticking up like an Egyptian pharaoh’s crook and flail. “In other words, tell us what the fuck is going on, or we’re gonna have to do this the hard way and I have no problem tackling your tall ass to the ground.”

  Staring at them, at these girls who befriended me over the summer, who’ve had my back through this entire crazy courtship with Anders, I finally see they’re more than just fellow band nerds. Maybe it’s all the late night movie marathons, or binge eating ice cream and chips, or marching the practice field with them for hours on end, but at some point, they’ve become sisters to me.

  We don’t live in each other’s pockets, but that doesn’t negate the bond I’ve formed with them. Each one is different, but they’re all solid. Strong. And I know if I fall, they’ll be there to catch me the same way I’d be for them if they ever found themselves in need.

  Which is why, right there on the same field where I’d first met them, I break down and tell them everything. Every humiliating detail, not caring when the tears start to fall or noticing when my tuba slips to the ground because I can’t hold it anymore. But when they crowd around me, the three of them wrapping me in a hug of understanding, acceptance, and faith, it heals a little of the painful scarring around my heart.

  Then Becca says, “I’m gonna castrate that motherfucker. I think you should make sure I go with Anders’ brother when he beats the shit out of him, make sure he does it right, you know?”

  And this is why I love my friends.

  “I don’t want you to come,” Anders tells me hours later, arms crossed and a hard expression on his handsome face that both irritates me and makes me melt. He’s being protective. “You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  Of course, just because I find him impossibly cute when he’s trying to tell me what to do, doesn’t mean I’ll listen. “I’m going. This is my mess caused by my asshole stepfather.”

  His lips thin and his eyes flash. “It isn’t your fault.”

  “It isn’t yours either,” I shoot back, scoring the hit. “We’re in this together. A team.”

  “Let her go,” Beau calls out from the living room where he’s playing some video game. “She’s right, man. Y’all are partners and partners stick together.”

  “Shut it, Savage!”

  “Yes, Dad,” the QB calls back with laughter edging his voice.

  Stepping forward, I touch Anders’ chest, speaking just for his ears. “I’m not trying to be a pain in the butt. I just think we need to show a united front to whoever this Limbo person is.” Whoever heard of someone calling themselves that? But that’s who the person introduced themselves as when Anders sent a text to the number Rien provided. “We need to do this together, babe.”

  He stares at me for several seconds, but his face slowly softens as his arms snake around me. “Okay,” he mutters. “I still don’t like it though. We don’t know anything about this guy.”

  I kiss his chin. “He’s probably just some scrawny guy who’ll pee his pants the minute he sees you. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Fine,” he sighs, tilting my face up to capture my lips in a quick kiss.

  An hour later, we pull into the empty parking lot of the Yolande Barrault Memorial Park and I barely hold back my shiver of unease. I’ve been to the park many times over the years, but it’s never appeared sinister until tonight. Of course, I never came here to meet with an anonymous computer hacker I hope to hire for the express purpose of destroying a sex video my stepfather took of me and my boyfriend either.

  Just thinking that makes my head hurt, but I muster up some calm when Anders turns to look at me, his blue eyes assessing. I even blow him a kiss that has him shaking his head as he climbs out of the Bronco.

  I wait for him to open my door and, although I don’t need it, I let him help me down, squeezing his fingers. He’s so nervous, it makes me feel a little better. This isn’t his type of thing at all and I think if it weren’t for his brother’s insistence that we need to work with a hacker, Anders would’ve found another way to get the videos from Nathan.

  The slam of the truck’s door seems to echo in the quiet of the night, highlighting just how deserted the park is. To be honest, I almost expect to see Nessie, Jolene, and Becca jumping out of the shadows wearing their version of cat-burglar clothing. Convincing the three of them that Anders and I needed to meet this mysterious hacker alone had taken a couple of hours, and several pinky swears that I’d call them as soon as we leave the meet.

  It’s warm, but I still nestle close to Anders. I have the creeps so bad, it’s as though an icy hand is running up and down my spine. As the minutes pass and the silence deepens, the I become more uneasy. Anders must feel my tension because he cuddles me into his side, pressing a kiss to my forehead every few minutes or so.

  “Just in case you didn’t know,” I whisper, unable to take the absence of noise any longer. “I love you.”

  His teeth flash in the dim streetlights dotted around the park. “I love you too, babe.”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, stop it already,” an irate voice calls out of the darkness.

  We both stiffen, but Anders recovers quicker than I do, disengaging my arms and putting me behind his bulky frame in a protective move that would be sweet if it wasn’t so stupid. Peeking around his shoulder, at first all I see are a pair of big, black boots forming from a cloud of smoke. Kind of like the Devil emerging from the bowels of Hell, and the closer he gets, the more I believe my first reaction is the right one.

  It’s none other than Ivan the Terrible, smoking a cigarette, his dark as night eyes flicking from me to Anders and back again, a smirk on his lips. “Got yourselves into a bit of trouble, huh?” he asks, smoke pouring from his mouth.

  “You’re Limbo?” Anders asks in a voice filled with doubt and incredulity.

  Ivan blows out a stream of smoke. “We all have our secrets that don’t exactly remain secret anymore, don’t we? Kind of like you two.” His gaze darts to me and he shakes his head. “It’s always the quiet ones who end up surprising me. Imagine my shock when I found out you were the budding star, Blondie.”

  My face has to be as red, and bright, as a stoplight.

  It doesn’t seem possible for Anders to get any bigger, but I swear that’s what it feels like as he takes a threatening step forward. “We’ll find someone else to help us.”

  Ivan takes a final drag of his cigarette before flicking it away. “That’s fine,” he says with a careless shrug. “Of course, there is no one else as good as me. I mean, unless y’all were hoping to become the next internet sensation. If that’s the case, I look forward to checking it out.”

  Anders’ biceps and shoulders tighten and I know he’s about to swing at the guy his brother set us up with. He’s looking for a reason to unleash some of the violence and anger he’s feeling and Ivan’s a perfect target. But we don’t have time for that. Not now.

  “Are you really good?” I ask, stepping next to Anders so I’m in full view.

  “Babe, I’m good at everything I do,” he says suggestively, laughing when my eyes widen. “But in this case, I’m not just goo
d, I’m the fucking best. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have my phone blowing up with calls about you two.”

  “What do you mean?” Anders growls.

  Ivan lights up another cigarette, the flame illuminating his devilish eyes for a moment. He sucks in and releases a cloud of smoke. “I mean, I’ve had no less than two calls from people who want me to work for you.” He shrugs. “That’s how fucking good I am.”

  “Who was it?” Anders demanded, taking a step forward. “No one should even fucking know about this.”

  “Hey man, just tellin’ you what’s going on. Y’all tell one person, that person tells another, and next thing I know, I’m getting offers of markers all over the place. It’s all twisty-turny, like one of those Gordian knots. But y’all have been good for business,” he finishes with a flash of white teeth. “Almost good enough to qualify for a special discount.”

  “Anders, it’s okay,” I whisper. None of that matters. I nibble on my lip, gripping the back of his shirt in my fist. “Do you know the whole situation?”

  This time Ivan’s smile is condescending. “I said I’m the best and the reason I am is because I make it my business to know the people around me. Like you. Lena Elizabeth Leblanc, born April 3, 1998. Honor Roll student all through school, partial band scholarship to Sauvage. 3.00 GPA—you seriously suck at Math—no boyfriends until this guy,” he recites, as though he’s reading off a paper instead of from memory. My jaw drops. “I also know all about Nathan and his gambling habits, who he owes money to, how much, and where he gets your mom’s pills. I also know how he plans to win that bet with people who aren’t very forgiving.” His gaze goes to Anders. “I have a lot of connections and let’s just say when this bet was placed on the books…” Ivan shrugs. “Well, it made a lot of people curious, so I did my homework. Got the call from a mutual acquaintance and the rest of the pieces fell into place” Then he waves his hand. “But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Boring shit really, especially since you kids have this all figured out and don’t need my help.”