Forever Golden: Dark High School Bully Romance (Kings of Cypress Prep Book 3) by Rachel Jonas (beach books TXT) 📕

the reason he came down so hard on me about my reputation, because it could reflect poorly on him.

It’s never been about me, my brothers, or even Mom.

It’s always been about Vin.

“I’m done sitting on this,” I say. “As soon as we’re done here, I’m taking everything I know to the authorities.”

“You think it’ll be that easy?” he asks with a smirk. “This city worships the ground I walk on, West. And these authorities you seem to think will side with you and bring me down, I’ve got half of them on the docket already. So, tell me, Son, what’s that plan of yours again? I’d love to have another listen.”

There it is, that look that says he thinks he’s won, but I’ve got something else to lay on him.

“My plan is to show these to the press, the police, and anyone else who’ll listen.”

He’s still grinning for about half a second when first glancing down at my screen. Then, the look is wiped clean off his face.

“These pics are interesting, don’t you think? A friend sent them earlier today because she figured I might be interested in getting a closer look at where our fortune comes from.”

There’s fire and brimstone in his eyes, and I know he’s fully prepared to unleash all hell on me right now.

“Every dollar I’ve ever earned comes from me working incredibly damn hard,” he snaps. “All for what? So you can drag the Golden name through the mud? I don’t fucking think so,” he growls.

Continuing to hold his gaze, I ignore the outburst and show him more. I slide from one image to the next, the first of which being his goon’s recent visit to Dusty’s Diner, snapped at the precise moment he grabs Southside by her wrist. Next up is another of the same man climbing out of Vin’s SUV. No, it isn’t spelled out what their business is together, but it does establish a connection between the two. The pic that follows is a snapshot of the same guy parked in a creepy van outside South Cypress High, either looking for his next prospect or keeping tabs on Scar. And as if this isn’t already enough, Pandora’s managed to get several of the same guy on many different days, headed into and out of a gated storage facility located on the edge of the city.

Knowing Vin’s practically untouchable, a ghost, it’s clear Pandora focused on the next best thing—his righthand man. Low and behold, keeping tabs on him led to a slew of incriminating evidence that links Vin to everything.

Ricky needed time to work on his uncle this evening, so I made myself useful by doing a bit of research while I waited. Turns out that storage facility in the pic was recently sold and acquired by a fledgling investment company with very little info on the web. Didn’t take me long to connect something about that business to Vin, and it’s all in the name of the parent company under which this new LLC is nestled: Saint Delphine—the parish where my mother was born and raised.

I’ve learned something valuable about my father. No matter what level of success he reaches, no matter how high he climbs, his guilt is the one thing he can never seem to outrun. Having betrayed my mother in every way imaginable, he habitually scatters bits and pieces of her throughout his world. Now, it’s finally come back to bite him.

In a nutshell, we’ve got his ass cornered.

“Your friend’s been a little sloppy,” I point out. “My guess is these pics prove there are a few too many coincidences to ignore. At least, that’s what I’m betting the detective will think. I’m also willing to bet furniture isn’t what you’re hiding at that storage facility, but we’ll all know the truth by the end of the night, won’t we?”

He doesn’t answer of course, and having effectively silenced him, my work here is done.

I turn to leave, but the moment my back’s to him, the sound of footsteps has me on high-alert. Mostly because they’re moving a bit too quickly, a bit too urgently as they come closer. His forearm locks around my throat from behind and he squeezes, blocking any air from getting through. In a way, this is my fault for letting my guard down, for turning my back and thinking he still looked at me as his son. With what I’ve just revealed, he only sees me as a threat.

And everyone knows what Vin’s solution is for snuffing out threats—he gets rid of them.

A loud grunt belts out when I jab my elbow just below his ribs, forcing his grip to loosen enough that I’m able to break free. Before he can recover from the hit, I sink my fist in his gut.

There’s no bridling my rage at this point. I’m seeing red, remembering every fucked up thing he’s ever done. From the shit I witnessed as a kid, to his threats toward Southside. It’s snowballed, causing me to lose all sense of reasoning.

I cock back again, but this time aiming higher, enjoying the satisfying squelch of my fist connecting with his face. Half a second later, blood’s gushing from his nose and down his lips, but he’s still on his feet, still looking for a fight.

A slow, disoriented punch whips through the air and he misses, but I sure as hell don’t. Following the distinct thud of the punch I just buried in his gut, air sputters from his lungs. I step back, staring at this bloody piece of shit I used to think could do no wrong.

“I fucking hate you. And with any luck, someone’ll kill your ass in prison and we’ll all breathe a little easier knowing you’re not breathing at all. And for what it’s worth, no one will miss you. Not even a little.”

I hold his gaze a few seconds longer, making sure he knows I mean every word of it as he stares, struggling to catch his breath. I