Behind him, his goons stand the same way they always do, their eyes fixed on us like they own the room.
These devils are still nasty as hell.
“Well, if it isn’t the posh, privileged-ass kids,” Gareth drawls, popping his gum. He leans forward, planting both hands on our table. “Didn’t think I’d find you lot in our turf.”
Katy leans closer. “Who’s that?” she whispers.
“Captain of the team we play today,” I say quietly.
I leave out the part where he’s also been my long-term enemy… and the part where I’m responsible for the cut on his chin.
“What does he want?” she asks quietly.
“I have no idea.”
A lie.
I know exactly what he wants, he’s here to taunt us.
“You all too much of a p***y to say anything?” Gareth sneers, smirking as he looks around our booth like he’s inspecting property
