Exodus (The Ravenhood Duet Book 2)

by Kate Stewart

  I didn’t expect Tobias to come to me last night and I wasn’t disappointed. For all I know, I played DJ only aggravating the birds whose chirping now sounds distorted outside the doors. Still fighting, I wipe at my eyes, trying to clear the fog away.

  When I’m finally able to keep them open, I lay confused on how I landed in a dead sleep in the center of my bed, my folded clothes intact. Continuing to fight to get my wits, I struggle to raise my limbs. It’s when I manage to lift from where I was comatose that I feel faint and resume my position back on the mattress to catch my bearings.

  What in the hell?

  Seconds later, an annoying sting beneath me has me lifting to check for sharp objects. Coming up empty, I reach for my cell phone on my nightstand for the time to see I’ve slept the day away and have only an hour until my shift.

  That is if I was going back to work.

  Which I’m not.

  Instead, I shoot an email to my supervisor that takes me minutes, not seconds, to compose due to my blurred vision.

  I won’t be coming in. Not tonight, and not ever. I won’t even give my father a heads-up about leaving early because I owe him no explanation. I’m only a few weeks shy of fulfilling my obligation of our agreement and what loyalty I had for him no longer exists. To hell with him.

  To hell with them all.

  As of this moment, I’m granting myself early parole. Normalcy sounds just peachy at this point, bland blissful. Determined to get home by nightfall, I try to lift again and groan out in frustration.

  “What in the actual fuck?”

  I repeatedly blink as I grapple with the gravity holding me down. I’ve never in my life been so tired.

  Struggling to stand, I stumble back and steady myself with my hands on my mattress feeling hungover, even though I didn’t have a drop to drink last night. Which is ironic because there’s no better time to indulge than when your ex-boyfriends appear like bloodthirsty fairies after months of heart-shattering absence busting you just as you’re declaring your love for their brother.

  “Ha!” I shout to no one at the utter insanity of it all. Oh, the stories I’ll never be able to tell. Who in the hell would believe it anyway? I’m hard-pressed to, and I lived it.

  But will I survive it?

  That’s a determination I’ll have to make at a later date.

  Determined not to completely crack until I’m in the vicinity of Atlanta, I try again to lift the fog.

  I must have passed out folding laundry, emotionally exhausted. But from the looks of it, between packing and staring at the walls, I managed to get enough done so I can leave in a matter of hours if I hustle. But it’s my body that betrays me as I’m forced to sit back down to control my spinning head. It’s been years since I slept that hard. And thankfully, I can’t remember a single dream.

  Determined to right myself, I freeze when I feel the burn due to the stretch of my skin at my back, just before I hear the faint rustle of something behind me, something attached to it. And that’s when the burn sets in. When I reach back to palm my shoulder, the movement again draws my skin taut, causing the discomfort to spread. Searching with my fingers, my eyes bulge when I feel the edge of the slippery pad attached to it.

  What in the fuck?

  Jerking my T-shirt over my head, I toss it to the floor and hobble toward my vanity determined not to faceplant. It’s there I discover there are two pads taped along my shoulder blades.

  What in the fuck!

  I don’t have to lift them to know what’s there, but I have to see it for myself. I manage to reach the edge of one of them with my thumb and slowly peel it off, bold black ink clear in the reflection.

  Raven’s wings.

  “Oh my God,” I gasp as I manage to lift the other side. Reeling, I study the unmistakable mark while shaking my head in denial.

  Last night, I wasn’t emotionally drained, I was fucking drugged and… branded.

  Branded!

  Marked by one of the sadistic liars that claimed to love me.

  My first thought is Dominic, but Sean was just as angry, just as hurt, maybe even more so.

  Is this my punishment?

  Or is this a display of how much power they have over me?

  Tobias would never take the choice away from me. He’s too level-headed, less emotional. He wouldn’t do this to me, especially after the way he deceived me.

  Or would he?

  “I may be the villain you fell for, but that doesn’t make me any less the villain.”

  I wouldn’t put it past any of them at this point. But this only makes sense for the one who thinks he has a point to prove. Who in the hell actually believes they own me? Truly owns me enough to mark me as his possession.

  Not only is it sick, but it’s also against the law.

  But who am I kidding? I invited these criminals into my life, between my legs, and into my heart, and they’ve fucking branded me.

  A permanent mark—a very visible and permanent mark. One I damn sure should have had a choice in. And why? So, I can’t hide behind my secrets anymore?

  I still know nothing. Not enough to incriminate any of them, not really. All this time, I’ve tiptoed around their borders, respected them enough not to push too far, too hard, and for what?

  I must have dozed off while packing, and that’s when they stuck me, drugged me.

  They came like the thieves they are under the cover of night and marked me, labeled me: a label that screams one thing and one thing only—mine.

  This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I study the tattoo on my back, disbelieving that this is my reality.

  And I’m so done.

  So fucking done.

  Done with the questions, with the struggle, with the understanding, the mystery. I’m so fucking done wondering, waiting for answers while forever dangling in the dark.

  I’m just…done.

  And tonight, when the moon rises high in the sky above, I’m going to declare fucking war.

  Bass thumps from behind the bubbled metal doors as loud laughter sounds out. They’re all here. Mindlessly partying while I stand a marked woman, completely set adrift on an island of rage and bitterness. I lift the first bottle and toss it, hitting my mark when it shatters against the door. The music clicks off, as the second one sails into the air, smashing to pieces at the foot of the door. Tyler is the first to go into the lobby. I can see his lips move with his report as one of the metal doors slowly lifts, and I hurl another bottle at it.

  “Jesus, fuck,” Sean says, flinching as some glass hits him as I hurl another and another. His eyes flare with anger as he surveys the damage I’ve already inflicted. All of their tires are flat. No one will be following me tonight.

  It’s surreal to see them all standing there, gawking at me like I’ve lost my mind. Jeremy, Tyler, Dominic, Sean, Russell, even Layla, who ghosted me along with the rest of them but regards me now with wide eyes. For so long, I felt like I’d imagined my time amongst them. But the gang’s all here and a few others I didn’t expect to see. Some fare with similar tattoos to the one I now wear, one of them with her eyes locked on Dominic, who discards a joint as he surveys the damage in his parking lot.

  Sean takes a tentative step forward as my eyes meet Dominic’s behind him. His features impassive as he surveys me.

  I can’t believe I let myself get wrapped up in these liars, these manipulative thieves who stole me from myself.

  “Cecelia,” Layla speaks up, her voice on edge. “Baby, what’s going on?” She turns her gaze on Sean and Dominic. “What did you fuckers do?”

  “Don’t bother,” I scold her dismissively. “Don’t pretend to give a damn about me now.”

  “You know I didn’t have a choice.”

  “Oh, bullshit,” I glare at her. “You had a choice. You chose them. And guess what? You deserve them.”

  Guilt runs clear in her blue eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Save it. You’ve all made your point. I think it’s time I made on
e of my own.” I lift the five-gallon can adding the rest of the contents to the puddle in front of me.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Sean asks, taking a step forward, just as I lift a different kind of bottle, the rag inside soaked.

  “Jesus Christ,” Tyler says, his eyes bulging. “Cecelia, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Who did it!?” I fume as Sean starts toward me.

  “Take another step before I get my answer, and I’ll light this, and we’ll all see where it lands. Don’t fucking push me, Sean!”

  “Put it down,” he barks as I try to ignore the sight of him and what it does to me. Seeing them again is surreal.

  But I’ve been a fool far too long.

  “Who did this to me!?” I scream, no longer able to keep our secret. No longer able to hide what’s been done.

  “Is this what you consider loyalty? You want me? Well, here I fucking am! You want extremes? You want devotion. Trust me. I’m dedicated to this. And I learned from the best. Fucking test me.” I lift my chin in defiance. “Speak up, and you can come and get your fucking prize.”

  I strike one of the Zippos I stole from Sean when we were together, and he jerks back.

  “Cecelia, don’t!” Sean’s panicked eyes dart back to Dominic, who starts to move toward me, his steps sure as he pushes through the crowd.

  “Bitch has lost her mind,” one of the girls says from the garage. “You must’ve dicked her too good, Dom.”

  A few guys I recognize from one of the meetups chuckles, but no one else is laughing, especially Dominic, whose eyes flare in irritation as he moves toward me at a leisurely pace.

  “What the fuck?” One of them speaks up, catching on to the damage done. “She slashed our fucking tires!” Dom holds up his hand, silencing them all with the flick of his wrist.

  “I swear to God, Dominic, I’ll light this place up,” I say, my voice steady. “Stop!”

  He does, his eyes cold, dull, lifeless, familiar boredom schooling his features. And it hurts, it stings, it’s as if we never existed.

  “Why?” My jaw shakes with anger. “Why?!”

  I twist, just enough so they can see the clear marks on my back and watch them both carefully for reactions. Neither gives me a single tell. I can only calculate this was just another one of their plans to mess with my head.

  “Cowards! You’re both fucking cowards!” I shake my head, rage boiling over just as phones begin to go off at random around us. Tyler lifts his to his ear as Dominic and Sean both start to slowly walk my way as if cornering a stray cat. “I was never yours, and I never will be. Stay the fuck away from me!”

  “Dom!” Tyler shouts, running to his side with the phone before putting it to his ear. A second later, Dom grips it and drops all pretense walking toward me in a blur just as I light the bottle and toss it down in the puddle of gasoline. Dom lunges, but the flash of flames separate us, giving me just enough time to dash to my Jeep. Dominic reaches the hood, slamming his fists on it just as I peel out. My heart hammers wildly against my chest as I race down the roads, screaming as I beat my hands against the wheel.

  And under the cover of night, I disappear.

  I arrive home near dawn, feeling safe enough to avoid any visitors so I can make my exit. Limbs heavy, back stinging, I’m exhausted from hours of driving aimlessly, my body sore from countless minutes spent staring into the dark road ahead, directionless. I have no idea what it’s going to take to move on from here, but I’m leaving. Not tomorrow, or the day after, now.

  I have the money.

  I’ve lost my fucking sanity for it, but it’s over. This ends today. The toxicity of the relationships I’ve formed is making me venomous. I’m so far from the girl who pulled up to this house a year ago.

  Securing the house, I set the alarm, knowing that anyone who wants inside can and will get to me. Walls and doors mean nothing to these men, and at this point, I’m sure none of them will stop me from leaving. Because maybe now they see me as a poison too. We’ve hurt and betrayed each other. There’s no coming back from that. And Tobias’s absence, his silence, only confirms that once again, I’ve played the fool. I might not know what love is, but I now know what it isn’t.

  I push all thoughts of Tobias away as I pull the packed suitcase from beside my bed and begin loading another. I should have been packed before I hit the garage, but I was too angry to come up with a better plan. Instead, I counted on arriving home at the late hour, expecting that anyone looking for me would give up when they saw I didn’t return home. It’s when I hear the disarm of the front door that I know that my plan backfired.

  I’m not alone.

  Fear cripples me as I stand in the center of my bedroom, waiting. Never did I fear these men before, and never did I ever think they would hurt me.

  Nor did I think they would push back over a couple of tires.

  Okay, a lot of tires. Every tire in the parking lot.

  Tires that will cost them a small fortune to replace. In the grand scheme of things, it was a psycho ex-girlfriend move. And that spectacle made me look like the guilty one when I’m anything but. But who marks a woman without their consent?

  Lunatics in a power struggle. I’m forever branded because of them, because of their selfishness.

  I blink and see Dominic standing in the threshold of my bedroom. A gun tucked in his waistband with the tip of a silencer attached to the end of it.

  A silencer.

  Swallowing, I eye it and take a step back, and he holds his hands up.

  “Cee,” he shakes his head as if my reaction is ridiculous. “Come on.”

  I’d shown my ass tonight, made myself look unstable. Unreliable. Emotional. A liability.

  “I’ll pay for them. All of them. I-I was angry.” I take another step back, and he chuckles incredulously before pulling the gun out of his jeans. I hear the thump of it land on the stairs as he makes his way into the bedroom. “No gun, okay?”

  “W-what are you doing here?”

  He eyes my suitcases and then brings his silver gaze back to me. I can’t control the shake that overtakes me, nor the panic that starts to rapidly consume me.

  “I’ll pay for them, Dom. I swear. I won’t say anything. I’m leaving, see?” I nod toward my suitcases.

  “Come on, Cecelia,” he scoffs. “Really?”

  “I was angry. But I d-didn’t t-tell anyone.”

  “Why are you shaking?”

  “I can’t believe anything you say,” I eye my cell phone where it sits on my nightstand, and he shakes his head dubiously.

  “I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “I don’t know you.”

  “Yes, you fucking do. You know me,” his tone is guttural, full of disappointment, and it throws me.

  “Now you care about me? A few hours ago, you looked at me like I meant nothing to you.”

  He blows out an exasperated breath. “Well, I’m a bit fucking ripped up at the moment. And you do know me.”

  “I don’t know anything. I’m not a loose end, okay? I won’t say anything to anyone. I haven’t told a soul, Dom. I swear.”

  “Jesus,” he says, scrubbing his face with his hand, his expression turning sick with worry. “What have we done to you?”

  I swallow. “I just want to leave now.” I do my best to control the shake in my voice as a tear spills over. “C-can I please just go home?”

  He studies my expression, and nothing but hurt shines in his eyes when he steps toward me, and I flinch.

  “Did he tell you to come here?”

  This time he’s the one who flinches. “Please tell me you don’t think that of me. I could never hurt you.”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.” I cup my mouth holding in my sob. “I don’t know what to believe.”

  “Jesus Christ, I think this hurts more than coming home to find you with him,” he hangs his head before bringing his eyes to mine. “Cecelia. I would never, ever, fucking hurt you. Not for anything or anyone or any r
eason.” He takes a step forward. “Come on, baby, look at me.”

  I shake my head.

  “Damnit, Cecelia, look at me. Right now.”

  I lift my eyes to his.

  “See me. It’s me.”

  My heart seizes when he takes another step forward, and another and I stop my retreat, his name bursting from my lips in an anguished cry just as he pulls me into his arms. We clutch each other as my fear subsides, and I realize just how far I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.

  “Goddamnit,” he whispers, pulling me tightly to him, his voice riddled with ache, “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Have we twisted things so much?”

  I clutch him to me, pressing my face into his neck as he covers me with his hands running them along my back and down my arms. “What have we done to you?” His voice is full of emotion as he pulls me tighter to him, and I inhale his faint but familiar scent.

  “I just…don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “We fucked up so bad with you, believe that.”

  He pulls away and stares down at me, his eyes searching mine, his tone desperate. “Tell me you know deep down we aren’t those guys?”

  I shake my head, unable to form words.

  “Cee, that’s not us.”

  “Last night, I was drugged and tattooed. Are you sure you’re not those guys?”

  “Jesus,” he cups the back of his neck, “you’re right. I can’t blame you for thinking the worst, can I?”

  He exhales a breath and pulls out his burner phone from his jeans before sitting at the edge of my bed. Tension begins to brew as he looks over at me.

  “Ten months,” he says as I study him just as carefully, feeling every single day of the space those months put between us. “We should have told you we were coming back. I wanted to. Sean wanted to keep to the deal we made with him to prove Tobias wrong. He didn’t think…” He exhales a loaded breath, “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”