“I’ll slap the shit out of her, if you tell me your name.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure.” Like that was ever going to happen.
Next thing I knew he was up and darting across the room. My jaw dropped as his palm swung through the air, cracking off the side of Demon Barbie’s face so hard that she flew out of her chair.
Well shit.
GIOVANNI
Iwalked into the cafeteria and looked around at the checkered floor filled with different cliques sitting at clean white tables. This wasn’t my favorite place to be. In fact I kind of despised this room.
People talked too much and the first day of the year was always the worst. Everyone wanted to catch up after summer break, so no matter where I went someone was talking.
Thankfully most steered clear of us. It wasn’t as if Atlee, Darry or I went around advertising what our families did, but rumors still went around. More than a few students here had a parent or relative that spent some time at my dad’s casino, and not always to gamble. Even still there were a few that didn’t care who our fathers were. Some might call that brave.
I called it stupid.
My footsteps slowed as I passed a group of football players. The starting quarterback Randal Stevens was a cocky bastard who had yet to learn his place. This was my school, not his.
Even now the prick was grating on my nerves. Leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Why are you staring at me Mancini,” Randal tipped his head my way. “You want to suck my dick?”
“Isn’t that Carter’s job, he has his nose shoved so far up your ass he could taste your balls.” I shot back, making the rest of his table laugh.
Randal on the other hand wasn’t as amused by my retort, but I wasn’t the only one who thought something was going on between him and Jake Carter. I just had the balls to say it out loud.
I smirked at the tick in Randal’s jaw and headed over to my table, where Atlee and Darry were waiting. Though Atlee had this look on his face that didn’t sit right with me. More specifically the glimmer in his eye. A glimmer that lit up when I sat down.
“What the fuck are you so happy about?”
He smiled back at me, “nothing,.”
Nothing my ass.
I grew up with the guy and knew what that curl in his lip meant. Atlee had a smile for everything. Picking up chicks, getting out of trouble, sweet talking a teacher or cop, and amusement like the one he was wearing now. There were only two things that amused Atlee Fiore, pussy and someone else’s suffering.
“What are you up to?” The last time Atlee smiled at me like that was the day Romeo came home.
“Why would I be up to something?”
He was always up to something. Atlee lived in this perpetual state of fuck. Who can I fuck with, who can I fuck up, and who can I fuck. Since he didn’t have bloody knuckles or a chick draped over him, I was going to assume it was the first. And I was more than likely the target.
“I’m not in the mood for your shit, Atlee. Run your game on someone else.”
He slapped his hand over his heart, “Would I run a game on you?”
Yes he fucking would.
I shrugged, “don’t blame me when you get punched in the face.”
“Oh, I don’t think you’ll be hitting me.”
Huffing out an exasperated breath, I looked over at Darry, “do you have any idea what he’s up to.”
Darry just shrugged and continued eating.
For some reason the scowl etched across his face bothered me today. It wasn’t an unusual expression, especially on Darius Barone – fucker probably came out of the womb with his brows knit – but today that scowl seemed to accentuate the cleft in his chin. Reminding me of how his father looked when Carissa called last night.
