I shrugged. “I don’t remember much.”
“Probably for the best,” Anthony said pointedly.
“Um, what does this have to do with opening a bank account? I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just really exhausted.”
“Shopping does that to you,” Nixon said.
Anthony laughed. “I’d say Nixon does that as well…”
“Very funny.” Nixon shook his head.
“Alright, Miss Rooks, was it?”
I nodded.
“I’ll work some magic and open your account without your social security number. I’ll add the address to the school you attend. Do you have a phone number where I can reach you?”
I gave him my number while he typed.
“And the cash?” He held out his hand.
Nixon reached into his back pocket and handed him the wad that I’d pulled out of the box this morning.
If Anthony was surprised he didn’t say anything. Instead he counted the cash, around ten grand which is what Nixon had guessed.
He put it through a little machine. I signed something and he gave me a temporary card. It was black just like Nixon’s.
“We good?” Nixon asked folding some of the paperwork and stuffing it into his pocket.
Anthony nodded. “For now.”
Huh? What was I missing?
“Alright.” Nixon grabbed my hand. “See you Sunday, Uncle Tony.”
“You too, Boss. Don’t forget the time, or your pops is gonna throw a fit.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Nixon waved him off and we left.
The ride back to school only took a few minutes. I was quiet, mainly because I was confused and tired.
Once we pulled up to my dorm I unbuckled my seatbelt, but something was still bothering me about the whole situation.
“Why are people afraid of you?”
Nixon smiled. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
I gulped. “Sometimes.”
His eyes got sad as he reached across the console and grabbed my hand. “You know I would never let anyone hurt you, right?”
“See!” I didn’t mean to yell. “That’s what I’m talking about! A few days ago you were telling me I was basically the cockroach beneath your shoe! And now you’re taking me shopping? I’m sorry, it doesn’t add up.”
“Yeah well, life rarely does.” Nixon swore and then groaned. His face was tight as if he was in severe pain. “Look, I was just warning you, that’s all. And just because I’m being nice to you doesn’t change the fact that you have to follow the rules if you want to survive here.”
“Thanks. Got that memo loud and clear once I was drenched with sugar water and drugged.”
“Damn it, then why not just do what I say?”
I shrugged. “I don’t like being bossed around.”
“No shit.” He smirked. “But sometimes it’s for your own safety. Can’t you see that? Maybe the world isn’t as shiny and fun as you once thought. People are mean. Humanity is a cruel joke, Trace. I’m just trying to prevent them from getting the last laugh.”
I sighed. “So, why do they listen? Why do you get to make the rules?”
He froze. A mask slipped from his face and then it was just a boy and a girl in a car, talking. The air felt electric as he reached out and touched my cheek. “I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I didn’t have to make rules… or enforce them.”
“Then don’t.” I reached out and placed my hand against his chest.
His eyes closed. “Sometimes we aren’t given choices. We just are.”
“What does that even mean?”
Nixon opened his eyes and slowly removed my hand from his chest. “It means that you should have listened to me on the first day of school.” His head tilted to the side. “Don’t touch the Elect. Don’t breathe the same air as the Elect, and don’t…” He cursed. “Just don’t.”
“Why?” My lower lip trembled.
“Because you are up to your eyeballs in shit, and you don’t even know it. And once you know… what everything’s about… the choice will be taken from you too. Hell, what am I saying? The choice was gone the minute your gramps dropped you off.”
“Choice?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re pretty serious and cryptic to boot, you know that right? What are you? Some kind of famous celebrity? A politician’s son? The President’s dirty little secret?”
At that he cracked a smile.
“…Hmm, that dirty little secret thing sure rings a bell. Don’t worry your pretty little head over anything, alright? Go do your homework and relax.”
Apparently I wasn’t going to get any answers. I grabbed my new bag and my purse and hopped out of the car. “Thanks for… everything.”
Nixon’s full lips curved into a smile. “My pleasure. Now go get some work done. I’ll send Chase over in a few.”
“Chase? Why?” I put my hand on my hip. Was I still under babysitting protection?
Nixon shrugged. “So no one bothers you, why else?”
“Why don’t you check on me yourself? Why send a minion?”
He barked with laughter. “A minion, huh?” He bit his lip, making the ring tilt to the side. Damn, I hated how sexy he was without even trying. “If I came and checked on you, I’d definitely be bothering you.”
“Annoying the hell out of me is more like it,” I shot back.
“Bye, Farm Girl.”
And there it was, the perfect ending to the weirdest day of my life.
“Thanks for that.” I flipped him off.
His response was to moo. Classic.
Chapter Fourteen
Monroe was already in the room waiting for me.
“How was shopping?” She sat cross-legged on her bed filing her nails.
“Oh swell. You know, other than seeing crazy guys in suits with guns and then having the devil buy me a Prada messenger bag to replace my old one.”
Monroe grinned. “Come on, everyone knows the devil wears Prada.”
“Thank you, Monroe.” I glared. “That was really helpful of you. Why’d you bail anyways? Do you always do whatever Nixon says?”
She snorted. “Yes, and even though he’s the devil incarnate — and an ass — at least he keeps me safe.”
“From what? Hormonal college students? Ice cream cones falling on your shoes? I don’t get it, who are you guys?”
“Wanna watch a movie?” She blew her hair out of her face and began searching through DVDs like a madwoman.
“Okay, I get it. Touchy subject. I’ll just do an internet search on your last name.”
Her hand froze over the DVD collection, but she didn’t say anything. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal? I quickly got onto the room computer and typed in their last name Abandonato.
Holy crap. So not what I expected.
Their names were on everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything Abandonato Enterprises, LLC. They owned the school, like literally owned it. They owned the bank I just went to, the grocery store, the actual mall, the gas stations. And my favorite, not car dealerships — no, because that would be too normal. They owned car brands. A few foreign brands. Crap.
“And I thought the Mormons owned everything…” I said under my breath.
Monroe choked on a laugh. “Heard that, Boots.”
“What don’t you own?”
“Disneyworld?” she offered.
Very funny.
“Is that why you guys take so much security everywhere?”
Monroe peered over my shoulder at the screen. “We’re worth a lot of money. Our dad’s kind of paranoid, you know? He’s worth billions. Imagine if one of us was kidnapped for ransom?”
That made sense. Logically, I could tell myself that people would be afraid of power, but it still didn’t explain why the kid had asked for Nixon’s autograph.
“Are you guys celebrities or something like that?”
Monroe laughed. “Around these parts? Let’s just go with the something like that.”
A knock sounded at the door.
I clicked out of the screen and went to open it.
Chase stood there, hands in the pockets of his jeans. A tight sweater hugging his perfect body. I looked away.
“Hey, Chase,” Monroe called.
“Hey, Mo…” His eyes turned to mine. “Hey, Trace.”
“Nixon send you?”
“Yup.”
“You staying?”
“Yup.”
“You gonna say anything but yup?”
He placed his hands on the door frame and leaned forward, his lips about an inch from mine. “I’m not much of a talker. I’m more of an action sort of guy.”
“Bet you are.” I nodded. “Please come in, make yourself at home in our lovely prison.”
“It’s not prison.” Monroe rolled her eyes. “Nixon just wants to make sure you're safe, and although I could probably kick a couple asses on our floor, we’d be screwed if the football team decided to pull a prank on us.”
“And why would they pull a prank on us?” I asked.
“You’re the shiny new thing, who wouldn’t want to play with you?” Chase shrugged. “I know if I had the chance to—”
“—I think it’s safe to say I know where that sentence was going to end.”
“Oh yeah?” Chase plopped down onto my bed in the same manner Nixon had a few days past. “And how’s that?”
“With my shiny new boots up your ass.” I smiled.
“Damn.”
“What?” I pulled out my notebook and opened to English Comp.
“Nixon’s a lucky bastard.”
“Huh? Why?”
Chase grinned. “I was never good at keeping my hands to myself though.”
Monroe groaned. “Chase, don’t. It’s like a death wish, just… don’t.”
“You won’t always be around Mo.”
“No, but if you touch what belongs to the devil he’ll probably damn your soul, just saying. And if you want a part of the businesses when you graduate, you need to be on your best behavior.”
He cursed.
“Right, so that was a weird conversation. I’m just going to work on my paper.”
Nobody said anything.
Three hours later and I was exhausted, but finished. And it was only eight at night. How pathetic. I was a freshman in college and I got my homework done early on a Friday night while being babysat by some boy who was part of the godfather’s clique.
Gossip Girl had nothing on this school.
I purposefully plopped my book onto the bed, jolting Chase out of his sleep. “Shit! What did you do that for?”
“Fun. It was fun. And I’m finished, you can go. I have done all my homework in peace, because of you.”
I went to open the door.
Chase laughed but didn’t move from his spot.
“Chase! I mean it, you don’t have to stay—”
“—He’s just doing what I told him to,” Nixon said from the door. “You done with your paper?”