The Raven Four: Books 1-2

by Jessica Sorensen

  What happened?

  Where am I?

  Why can’t I remember anything?

  “Shut up,” I whisper in a shaky tone.

  Tears sting my eyes, but I suck them back. Will them to get the fuck out of my eyes. I haven’t cried since that day, and I sure as hell am not going to start now, especially in front of these guys.

  “Why?” His tone is all sorts of mocking. “Is it hurting your feelings?”

  “No,” I reply flatly. “It’s pissing me off.”

  “Pissing you off because it’s true?” he goads with a smirk.

  As blood roars in my eardrums, I stab my fingernails deeper into my palms until I feel the flesh split open.

  “If it is,” I say in a calm tone, “then you might want to be a little more careful around me.”

  Jax looks back at me while Hunter glances at me through the rearview mirror. Neither pity nor fear reflect in their eyes like I expect. No, they look intrigued.

  A low laugh reverberates from Zay’s chest, but not of drop of humor rings in the noise. “You know what I think?” he says. “I don’t think I have anything to worry about. And you want to know why? Because I don’t think you killed them.”

  “Then I guess you’re an idiot,” I say. “Because I did.”

  Raven

  No one utters a word for about a minute after my declaration. And for a second, I think that maybe I’ve scared them enough that they’ll bail out of whatever they plan on doing to me. But then I realize I’m wrong as Hunter makes a turn off the main highway and down a side road that leads toward the hills that are dotted with snow.

  “So, we’re going with option two then.” Jax bobs his head as his gaze skims the snowy hills and trees bordering the road. “Good call.”

  “Don’t pretend like I made the call,” Hunter replies as he speeds up the SUV. “You know you always get the final say.”

  Jax flicks his cigarette out the window then reclines in the seat and crosses his arms. “Because I’m the only rational one out of the three of us.”

  To imply any of them are rational has me rolling my eyes.

  Jax notices but doesn’t remark, looking away from me and staring out the window again. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the only rational one. It’d make things a hell of a lot easier.”

  “You could always just stop,” Zay suggests, using his free hand to dig a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

  While he’s distracted, I shift my position and move my hand into my pocket. A breath eases from my lips as my fingers brush against my phone. I wait for Zay to catch me, but he seems too distracted with lighting up his cigarette and taking a drag, so I keep going, slowly flipping my phone open. Then I slide my fingers along the buttons, pushing the one I believe is my aunt’s contact number—

  “What’re you doing?” Zay snaps, jerking on my arm and yanking my hand out of my pocket.

  My phone flies out and lands on the floor with a thud.

  “Stop!” I shout, writhing around in a lame-ass attempt to escape. I’m not going to stop fighting until the end. It’s in my blood to fight.

  “Whatever you do, never give up,” my dad once told me. “Hold your ground and fight. You got that, Raven. You fight until the very end,”

  He did that a lot—taught me to defend myself—starting when I turned six, and we moved into a neighborhood that had a pretty high crime rate. And even though I know Zay is a huge dude and I probably don’t stand a chance, I keep on fighting.

  Jax’s gaze snaps back to us. Then he leans over the console and scoops up my phone.

  “Give me that!” I growl. “That’s mine!”

  Jax ignores me, rolls down the window, and throws it out of the car.

  “You’re an asshole,” I snap as Zay pins me against the seat again.

  Jax gives a shrug. “I’ve been called worse.”

  “I’m sure you have,” I snap, my pulse pounding and not just with fear. No, I’m more pissed off than anything else.

  How dare they take me against my will.

  How dare they taunt me.

  How dare they read my personal files.

  It’s just like with Dixie May, always controlling me. Everyone is always controlling me. I’m so pissed off. But I’m also tired. Really, really tired of always being pushed around, mocked, beaten down.

  “How did you get ahold of those files about me?” I ask, sounding way too calm with how I feel inside.

  “I have connections,” Zay replies simply. “All of us do. With the teachers, the cops. In fact, we have almost everyone in this town wrapped around our little fingers, which makes getting what we want pretty damn easy.”

  “Good for you,” I say. “But whatever you’re about to try to make me do, it’s not gonna happen.”

  “Is that so?” Zay questions. “Well, I guess we’re about to find out.”

  Right as he says it, Hunter slows the car to a stop, and fear manages to prickle up through my anger.

  We’re parked in front of an old, rickety bridge that stretches across a river. It’s cold enough up in the hills that patches of snow cover the area and chunks of ice stick out from the shore and stretch out across the water.

  I swallow hard. “Why are we here?”

  Zay doesn’t utter a word as he shoves the door open and climbs out. Hunter silences the engine and follows Zay’s lead. Jax is the one to linger inside as he rotates in the seat to face me.

  “You know, part of me wishes you would’ve just given him his damn seat,” he tells me. “You seem like a nice enough girl. A bit feisty, but not really in a bad way.” He assesses me for a beat. “Why didn’t you just give him his seat?”

  I lift a shoulder. “I don’t like being told what to do. And I don’t like arrogant jerks who think they always get their way and can walk all over everyone. I’m tired of it … Tired of getting pushed around.”

  He studies me unnervingly. “Have you been pushed around a lot in your life?”

  For reals? He wants me to open up to him?

  “Does it really matter?” I ask. “If I tell you my sob story, is it gonna make you pity me enough to let me go?”

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  “Okay, then let’s get this over with.” Mustering up every ounce of courage I have, I scoot to the edge of the seat then hop outside.

  The air is way chiller up here than it was in town, and the space of flesh between my knee-highs and the hem of my shorts instantly dots with goosebumps. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.

  “Holy balls, it’s cold up here,” I mutter, my breath puffing from my lips in a cloud of smoke.

  “Funny you think that, because in just a second, you’re going to remember this moment and the warmth.” Zay smiles at me coldly then unnecessarily reaches around me to shut the door.

  I resist asking questions, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s got me worried. And he does have me concerned. What he said …

  My gaze drifts to the water. Water which I’m sure is freezing, considering the ice floating around in it.

  Noticing the direction of my gaze, Zay grins. “I think you might be putting two and two together. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought.” He grabs the sleeve of my jacket and tows me to the front of the car where Jax and Hunter are waiting.

  Hunter appears fidgety, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt while Jax takes out his phone and glances at the screen.

  “We have about an hour before we need to be at the house,” Jax says. “So let’s make this quick.” He stuffs his phone away then turns to me, raking his fingers through his hair. “The thing is, Raven, we have a reputation to uphold. People are scared of us, and for good reasons. And we need them to stay that way. But for that to happen, we have to keep up that fear factor, which means making sure everyone knows their place. You, however, seem to have a hard time with that. And while you may be one person, if your defiant attitude becomes a fad, we’re going to have a problem on our hands.”

/>   “It’s not going to become a fad.” I wrap my arms around myself as the wind picks up, blowing strands of hair into my eyes. “I’m not the kind of girl who sets fads. I’m the kind of girl that people try not to be like.”

  Jax’s gaze flicks up and down my body. “I really doubt that.”

  “I don’t know why you would. You know I’m a murderer. Just like almost everyone back in my hometown did.” I shift my weight. “No one wants to be like a murderer.” Well, except for maybe Zay, but I decide to keep my snarky thought to myself for now since I'm fairly confident they’re about to force me into that freezing cold river.

  I need to talk my way out of this. Need to be nice.

  Remember how to be nice, Raven?

  The problem is that it’s been a really long damn time since I’ve had a reason to be nice.

  But I have to try.

  “I can try to be better,” I force the words out of my mouth. “If you’ll just let me go.”

  Jax briefly studies me before gazing out at the water. I think he might be considering my offer until I spot the apologetic look on Hunter’s face.

  “We can’t just let you off without punishing you first,” Jax says, redirecting his attention to me. “It’s not really how we work, and we can’t start working that way. Not unless we want to lose our power. And with how things are at …” He trails off as Hunter gives him a wide-eyed, pressing look.

  I wonder where he was going with that statement. How things are where?

  “Anyway,” Jax continues. “We need our power. And while I want to believe you’ll change and can be trainable, you’re really stubborn, which leaves us with only one option.”

  I hold my breath as I wait for him to tell me what I think I already know.

  “So, here’s what you’re going to do.” He turns toward the river and points toward a rusty beam that extends out from the bridge and over the water. “You’re going to climb up there and jump into the river.” His gaze slices to me, his expression turning cold. “And the next time you so much as even think about smarting off to any of us, you remember what it was like to feel your blood turn to ice and the chill of the water seep into your bones.” He steps toward me, his boots scuffing against the snowy dirt. “Remember what it was like not to be able to breathe for a second, to have the cold water rip away your ability. Remember what it was like to sink to the bottom and, for a split moment, worry that you won’t ever make it to the surface again.” He traces his finger along my cheekbone. “Remember that helpless feeling we gave you. Remember we’re in control of everything in Honeyton and that we’ll do anything to keep that control.” He strokes my cheek like I’m a pet.

  Okay, maybe I was wrong when I said Zay might be the serial killer. Jax might be even scarier in a very serial killer-ish sort of way.

  “And what if I won’t jump?” I ask, relieved I’ve still managed to hold on to the ability to sound calm.

  “Oh, you will,” he assures me, withdrawing his fingers from my cheek. “Either you can do it willingly or we can help you out.”

  I swallow hard, my gaze drifting to the river again. Not only do the rapids look freezing, but I’m not sure how deep the water is, which poses a huge problem, seeing as how I can’t swim. Not that my parents didn’t try to teach me. They did a couple of times, but they kind of gave up when they realized I feared water and would freak the hell out every time they put me in a pool.

  Maybe if I tell them, they won’t make me do this.

  I nearly laugh at the stupidity of my own thoughts, but decide I have to at least try.

  “I can’t swim.” I fidget with the leather bands on my wrists, feeling very exposed at the moment.

  Zay snorts a laugh. “Nice try, but we’ve heard better lies from others trying to get out of this.”

  My gaze skims the three of them, my heart rate quickening. “You guys do this to people a lot?”

  Zay gives a lazy shrug. “How do you think we got everyone to fear us?”

  As the urge to chatter arises, I press my lips together. Jesus, I think I’m going to have to jump. If I do, are they going to save me when they realize I can’t swim?

  Probably not, which means …

  Am I about to die?

  I could try to run, but we’re out in the middle of nowhere, with three of them and one of me …

  My gaze travels to the road behind me. How fast can I run?

  As if sensing my thoughts, Zay sidesteps in front of me and folds his arms. “Don’t even think about running. You won’t make it very far, and you’ll be punished even more if you do.”

  “Punished more than potentially dying? Yeah, I doubt that,” I mutter, racking my brain for another way around this.

  Zay gives me a calculating assessment. “There is one other option if you’re too chicken shit to jump.”

  Aw, yes, option one, the option Jax believed I was too much of a fighter for.

  “What is it?” I ask warily.

  Zay rubs his lips together then glances at Jax.

  “We decided we should stick with option two,” Jax reminds him, resting his arm on top of the hood.

  “I know.” Zay flits a glance in my direction then looks back at Jax. “But if she doesn’t want to jump, we might as well give her the option.”

  Jax’s brow meticulously arches. “And giving her this option has nothing to do with you wanting to give her the option?”

  “No,” Zay insists in an irritated tone. “She’s just interesting enough that I’m curious how it’ll go if we give her the other option.”

  Jax rubs his jawline as snow begins fluttering from the dark clouds. “If you want to give it to her, then go ahead. I don’t think it’s going to turn out how you want it to, though.” He steps back and gestures at Zay to get a move on.

  Hunter grins at me, snowflakes covering the top of his head. “I really hope, little raven, that you think carefully about your options here and make the smarter choice because, personally, I don’t want to see that pretty face of yours frozen in pain if you dive into that water.”

  I glare at him, but he keeps on grinning.

  Gritting my teeth, I twist back to face Zay. “What’s the other option?”

  He gradually reclines against the front of the car and drags out the silence, probably to show me that he’s the one in charge here. “Instead of jumping off the beam, we’ll let you spend the rest of the year being our servant.”

  “Your servant?” I repeat, unsure if I heard him clearly because, seriously, he wants me to be his servant?

  No fucking way.

  “Yes, servant. Which, in case you’re too stupid to understand what that word means”—he smirks at me when I glare at him—“it means you’ll spend the rest of the school year doing whatever we want you to do.”

  I frown. “That sounds really unappealing.”

  He shrugs. “Then I guess it’s the water for you.”

  I hug my arms around myself and chew on my bottom lip. Maybe I could do that—be their servant. Swallow down my pride for a bit. But I guess it really depends on what that entails.

  “Like, what sort of stuff would you want me to do? Clean your house? Make you food? Because you should know I’m a terrible cook.”

  “I’m not talking about cooking or cleaning our house,” he says with a dark grin. “Well, unless I’m in the mood to see a little maid outfit on you, which doesn’t sound like a bad idea now that I think about it.”

  Wait … Does he want me to be, like, his naughty maid or something?

  As he assesses me closely, he tilts his head to the side. “You know, just by looking at you, and after talking to you for the last hour and reading through your files, I wouldn’t have guessed you’re naïve. But I don’t know … That confused look on your face has me wondering.”

  “I’m not confused,” I lie, because I kind of am.

  He casts a quick glance at Jax and Hunter then slides his gaze back to me, dragging it up and down my body. Then he crosses his arms
. “Are you a virgin?” he asks bluntly. “Because, if you are, I’m not sure option one’ll work.”

  It clicks then that I was correct about what he wants.

  My stomach churns, my fingernails delving into the fresh wounds covering my palms. “You want me to be your whore? No effing way.”

  He angles his head to the side as he studies me with mild amusement. “You wouldn’t be a whore if you didn’t want to do it.”

  “I don’t,” I assure him.

  He tilts his head to the other side. “Huh. I’ve never heard that one before.” He glances at Hunter. “What about you, brother?”

  “Nope.” Hunter steps up behind me and brushes a few snowflakes from my shoulder, making me want to smack him. “I think we might have an anomaly on our hands.”

  He sounds just like my aunt, which pisses me off.

  “I’m not an anomaly,” I bite out. “And I really doubt this is the first time a girl has turned down your option.”

  “Oh, it is.” Zay assesses me way too closely with his dark eyes. “But every other time we’ve given a girl the option, it hasn’t been under these circumstances. We’ve never had to drag a girl out here before. We’ve always picked who we wanted and proposed the idea. And none of them turned it down. In fact, they’re always eager to accept. It was never a threat, but an honor.”

  “Bullshit,” I say. “I bet they’re just afraid of you.”

  He rolls his eyes. “We’ve never had to scare a girl like this before. You’re an anomaly whether you think you are or not. Now, we have taken some guys out to this bridge, but they don’t get option one. But none of them have ever made the jump either.”

  I swallow hard, not wanting to ask, but needing to know. “So, what happened to them?”

  “Happened to who?” he says with a smirk, and my stomach sinks. Still smirking, he snaps his fingers. “See how fast we can make you disappear, Raven? And from what I’ve read about you, I don’t really think anyone is going to miss you, the little murderer whose aunt and uncle had to take in because the police couldn’t build a good enough case to put you in juvie or in a psych ward permanently.”

  I ball my hands into fists. Then I lift my hand, preparing to swing at him. Deep down, I know it won’t do any good, but at least I’ll get to hit him one time before I dive to my death.