Treatment 89_Badass in Disguise

Badass in Disguise

 Chapter 89 

 A 662

 Jade’s POV:

 Alexander Haxton stared at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. I watched his expression shift from confusion to recognition, then to something like awe.

 “You–you’re Jade Morgan?” he stammered, smoothing down his designer suit in a nervous gesture.

 I studied him coolly. “You’ve got a strong survival instinct, don’t you?” I said.

 “I’m sorry?” Alexander looked confused.

 “You survived the incident in Cloud City,” I rified. “Pretty impressive.”

 His face brightened. “Oh! Yes, that was…quite an experience. I apologize for my reaction. I just didn’t expect to see you here, of all ces.”

 Alexander nced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have an urgent meeting. Could I possibly get your contact information? I’d love to take you to dinner sometime as a thank you for…well, you know.”

 I almost smiled at his awkwardness. “Sure.” I recited my number as he entered it into his phone.

 “Perfect, I’ll text you,” Alexander said.

 The next morning, I was heading to the dining hall when someone fell into step beside me.

 ‘Hey, you’re Jade Morgan, right? The girl who crushed the freshman challenge?”

 I nced sideways at the tall guy keeping pace with me. Tall build, expensive clothes, confidence bordering on arrogance. I recognized him immediately–Chase Astor.

 ‘Do I know you?” I asked, even though I remembered our encounter on Cloud City’s mountain roads perfectly.

 “Chase Astor.” He shed a smile that probably melted most girls‘ hearts. “I think we’ve met before. Mountain road in Cloud City? You were driving a pretty sweet ride for someone your age.”

 I kept walking. “Not ringing any bells.”

 He wasn’t deterred. “Come on, I never forget a face. Especially one that cost me three hundred grand in a street

 race.”

 I stopped and faced him. “What do you want, Chase?” 

 12:21 Mon, Sep 22 

 His smile widened. “There she is. I knew you remembered me.” 

 ‘I’m busy. Get to the point.”

 Chase leaned closer. “Have lunch with me today. I have a proposition that might interest you.”

 I considered telling him to fuck off, but curiosity won out. “Twelve–thirty. I have ss at one–forty–five.” 

 62

 “Perfect. Meet me at the west campus café.” He walked backward as he spoke, that cocky smile still stered on his

 face.

 The café was crowded when I arrived, but Chase had secured a corner table. He waved me over, pushing a sd

 toward me as I sat down.

 “I ordered for you,” he said. “Hope that’s okay.” 

 I ignored the sd. “What’s this proposition?”

 Chase leaned forward, lowering his voice. “How would you like to make some serious cash tonight? I’m talking about a race–an off–road challenge.”

 “Not interested.”

 “Fifty thousand dors for one race,” Chase said quickly. “The course is about twenty minutes outside town. Some abandoned quarrynd the locals call ‘the Bands.“”

 I raised an eyebrow. “Fifty thousand is pocket change. Not worth my time.”

 Chase’s eyes widened slightly. “Pocket change? Jesus, who are you?” He recovered quickly. “Okay, how about this–if you beat those smug bastards, I’ll personally add another fifty grand per race. That’s a hundred thousand for what, an hour of your time?” 

 I took a sip of water, considering. It wasn’t about the money–I had more than enough. But something about the prospect of racing again made my blood hum. The adrenaline, the control, the victory–I missed it,

 “What time?” I asked finally.

 Chase’s face lit up. “Meet me outside the east campus gate at eight. I’ll drive us there.” 

 I nodded once and stood up. “Don’t bete.” 

 At eight o’clock sharp, I walked through the east campus gate. Chase was already waiting, leaning against a heavily

 12:21 Mon, Sep 22 

 modified Jeep Wrangler with massive tires and a reinforced roll cage.

 62 

 “Right on time,” he said, opening the passenger door for me. “Hope you’re ready to shock some Europeans tonight.”

 The drive took us through winding country roads until we reached what looked like an abandoned mining operation. Dozens of off–road vehicles were parked in a makeshift lot–Range Rovers, G–Wagons, and custom rigs that probably cost more than most houses.

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Treatment 89