Sure enough, James showed his cards on the last day of the school week, drawing the usual stares from everyone because of how obvious the plan was. A group of goons was already waiting to enact his plan.
With a bright red sports car shining in the morning sun, our op looked every bit the young man who'd just won over a billion dollars.
Some kids whispered, others pointed, but Ross just flashed them a grin and got out of the car.
Thud! As soon as he stepped onto the pavement, several men surrounded him. They looked out of place against the school backdrop—rough-looking guys with tattoos, leather jackets, and sneers. A white van with tinted windows idled by the curb, its engine humming like a waiting predator.
One of the goons, a towering man with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun, stepped forward and draped a thick arm over our op mc's shoulder. The weight of it pressed down, but Ross didn't flinch.
