Chapter 18

eighteen

LOLA

Not even two minutes after Jacobs had escorted Hendrix out of the cafeteria, Principal Brown came to get me.Evidently, I had been listed as a witness to a possible assault, and the Barrington police wanted to ask me a few questions. At the station.

Ethan Taylor was not only the spawn of the devil, but he'd told the police he'd screwed me. And if that weren't enough, he'd tried to get Hendrix arrested for assault.

The fact that he'd dropped my name and actually thought I would say a damned thing to help him against Hendrix… Then again, I didn't need to.

Maybe he thought I'd just tell the truth. After all, the authorities wouldn't give a crap about a rich boy getting gropey with a trashy Dayton girl, but a trash guy beating said rich boy…well, that was a different story.

Idiot.

This was Dayton—not Barrington.

Even if I loathed Hendrix—which clearly, I didn't—I still wouldn't snitch.

By the time Barrington police finally let me go, I was seething.

I'd barely been outside for five minutes before Kyle's Honda pulled up in front of the police station, and I got in.

His wide-eyed gaze slipped from me to the shiny building beyond the window. "Are you going to jail?" he wheezed.

"No, Kyle." I fiddled with the AC vent. "Did you bring the stuff I asked for?"

Nodding, he thumbed toward the back seat. "But I don't think whatever you're going to do is a good idea."

"You don't know what I'm going to do."

On a long, suffering sigh, he put the car into drive and pulled away. "Nothing good with a canister of gas…"

Kyle wound through backroads before I instructed him to turn into the Pizza Palace parking lot. Right across the street from Barrington High School.

The moment Hendrix got out of jail, I knew he'd be dishing out payback. However, I was more than ready to deliver it on his behalf while he had the tightest alibi possible—police custody.

Kyle cut the engine. I stared through the windshield, my attention homing in on the ugly, yellow Camaro parked a few rows away from the Barrington High sign.

Ethan Taylor had just opened up a world of hell for himself.

I grabbed the sweatshirt Kyle had brought off the backseat, tugged it on, and pulled the hood over my head.After checking in the mirror to make sure my blond hair was hidden, I got out and went to the trunk.

The scent of gas filled the air as I funneled it from the canister into three beer bottles, then shoved a rag into the top of each.

"What are you going to do, Lola?" Kyle peered between the front seats at me, his face pale.

"Nothing you'll be any part of, Kyle. Stay here."

Sweat dripped down my neck, but the hoodie was the only way I could keep any possible security cameras from identifying me.

I took the tire iron from the back, then slammed the trunk.

The glass bottles in my hand clinked together when I darted across the road to the Barrington parking lot. I weaved between the parked cars in the deserted lot until I stood in front of the Camaro.

The memory of Ethan pinning me to that wall sent a flood of anger through me, and that building fury was unleashed when I swung the tire iron at the back window.The glass smashed, decorating the leather back seat.Part of me wanted to ruin every window and panel just to purge my anger. It wasn't just what Ethan had done or said to me or what he had done to Hendrix. It was his dad.

Unfair? Maybe. But I hated him for being that man's son, for trying to validate his father's disgusting behavior.

I took the lighter from my pocket and lit the rags.

The first Molotov hit the dash with a smash of glass, followed quickly by the second and the third.

Flames spread through the interior, and I could only hope for an explosion… Too bad I couldn't stick around to watch. Cinching my hood, I jogged out of the parking lot and across the street to Kyle's car.

He already had his inhaler in his mouth when I threw myself inside.

I smiled at the sight of the burning Camaro, a thick column of black smoke rising above the pristine outline of Barrington High.

"Oh my God, Lola." Kyle took a puff. "You're an arsonist."

I pulled the sweatshirt off before I buckled my seatbelt. "Drive, Kyle."

Gripping his inhaler in his mouth, he put the car into reverse and peeled out of Pizza Palace like it was a bank heist.

When we passed the school, flames licked against the Camaro's windows.

School didn't get out for another half an hour. Hopefully, by then, that yellow piece of shit would be a very expensive bonfire.