The Raven Four: Books 1-2

by Jessica Sorensen

  His brows knit. “What’ll be over?”

  I sigh heavily. “This morning, I may have called my aunt a skank after she told me I was an idiot or something like that. I honestly have a hard time remembering our little bitch-fests. They’re such a common occurrence.”

  “So, your aunt’s a bitch then?” he muses, scrubbing his hand across his jawline.

  I nod. “Basically.”

  He bobs his head up and down understandingly. “My mom’s a prick, so I get you.”

  “A bitch and a prick,” I muse. “Maybe they should be friends.”

  He smiles brightly. “Nah, I wanna be your friend.”

  “What are we? Like in middle school or something?” Strangely enough, the last time I actually had a friend was in middle school, right before my parents died.

  “Oh, totally,” he says in an off-pitch falsetto tone. “You got those friendship bracelets I told you to make or what?”

  “You only told me that hours ago, so there’s no way I could’ve possibly made them yet,” I point out, the corners of my lips twitching. “But I’ll put it on my to-do list.”

  He playfully narrows his eyes. “You better.”

  A quiet laugh escapes me, a foreign sound and one I never expected to hear after what happened on the bridge. I didn’t expect to hear anything other than the silence of death.

  “What’s so funny?” Jax enters the room with an irritated-looking Zay trailing behind him.

  At the sight of him, my thoughts drift to the story of the raven that Hunter told me, and for the slightest instant, I feel pity for Zay. Yeah, he’s intense and bossy, but no one deserves for their parent to kill their pet. And to refer to them as “Kid”… Even my aunt and uncle call me by my name.

  Then again, my uncle has given me cruel nicknames that he’s carved on my side, so…

  I really miss my parents. God, do I.

  “Me, obviously.” Hunter flashes him a grin from over his shoulder and snapping me out my thoughts.

  Jax stops near the end of the pool table, his gaze gliding from me to Hunter, then his pierced brow meticulously curves upward. “Soon, we’re going to sit down and talk about all of our new rules. But I’m throwing one out here right now.” He gives a stern glance at everyone. “Everyone is to remain just friends. Do you all understand?”

  Is he being serious right now?

  Apparently, Hunter thinks so, because he gripes, "Dude, you're ruining the potential."

  Jax fastens his firm gaze on him. “There’s no potential other than drama.”

  “Whatever,” Hunter grumbles, totally sulking.

  Jax looks at Zay. “What about you? You got any complaints about my rule?”

  Zay's gaze flits to me, and for a flash of a second, he looks hesitant. But then he shakes his head. "Nope."

  "I hope really hope so, but there's a couple of things that have me concerned. We'll talk about that later, though," Jax tells him, and Zay blasts him with a dirty look. But Jax ignores him and twists to face me. "What about you?"

  I shrug. “I don’t even think of us as friends, so…” I shrug again.

  Hunter rolls his eyes while Zay stares at me with his arms crossed, his gaze boring into me.

  Jax reclines against the pool table with his arms folded across his chest. “I’ll accept that answer for now. But there’s some other stuff we need to talk you about right now.”

  I shake my head. “No, I need to go home before I get in even more trouble than I’m sure I already am.”

  “We’ll make sure you don’t get in trouble,” Hunter offers with a devious grin then cracks his knuckles. “Just tell us who we have to scare? Your crazy aunt?”

  A trace of a smile pulls at my lips as I imagine the look on my aunt’s face if these guys showed up and threatened her. But then my uncle might get involved and …

  My smile goes poof.

  “That’s probably not a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Hunter asks with his head tilted to the side.

  I shrug. “Because my uncle’s the sheriff.”

  Hunter stifles a grin as he flicks a glance at Zay, who bizarrely is as equally amused.

  “Did you hear that, Zay?” Hunter asks. “She thinks we should be afraid of her uncle ’cause he’s the sheriff.”

  Zay picks up a pool stick and rests his weight against it. “I did hear that.” His gaze fastens on me, the corners of his lips spasming. “Maybe you’re right, Hunter. She is amusing.” But he says it like it’s not a good thing.

  “And you’re kind of moody,” I retort. “Seriously, you’re like the most hot and cold person I’ve ever met.”

  He lifts a shoulder and gives a lazy shrug. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”

  “I’m sure you have,” I reply haughtily.

  Zay mutters something with a shake of his head.

  Jax straightens his stance and crosses the room, stopping in front of me. “We can take you home, but after we have a little chat.” My lips part to reiterate my earlier concern, but he puts his finger against my lips. “That’s not up for negotiation.” He lowers his hand from my lips then crosses his arms. “If you want us to, we can talk to your aunt and uncle about you being late. Or we can help you make up some bullshit story. I really don’t care, but we’re talking to you before you leave.” With that, he turns around and strides toward the doorway. “I have to go reset the alarms.” Then he exits the room.

  I raise my brows at Hunter. “Is he always so bossy?”

  Hunter chuckles. “That’s actually pretty mild compared to how he can be.”

  I crinkle my nose. “I’m not sure I can do that bossy. Maybe he should take that into consideration before he tries to force me into you guys’ circle. It seems like we’re gonna clash.”

  Hunter moves beside me and drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Actually, little raven, I think you might fit in perfectly with us.”

  “I completely disagree. Jax is way too bossy for me. And you”—I point at Zay—“are pretty bossy, too, but you give in pretty easily, so it’s not as intense as Jax.”

  Zay’s brows dart upward. “That’s … What …?” He shakes his head. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

  “You’re just irritated ’cause you know I’m right,” I reply in a semi-teasing tone. “You may get mad, but from what I’ve seen, you like to storm out and have a temper tantrum instead of confronting the problem.”

  His brows lower as his shock erases. Then he sets the pool stick down and ambles toward me with his hands stuffed into the back pockets of his pants. “I assure you that I’m just as scary as Jax. In fact, most people—the smart ones—think I’m scarier.” When he reaches me, he crosses his arms and stares me down intimidatingly. “And I may not confront the problem right away, but only because I like to plot out what I’m going to do. That way, I can make sure the punishment is nice and cruel.” His lips twist into a smirk. “Just the way I like it.”

  “I have no doubt that you do,” I tell him. “All I’m sayin’ is that you don’t seem as bossy or as intense as Jax.”

  When his face twists with repulsion, Hunter chuckles, drawing me closer to his side.

  Maybe I should step away from him, but … I don’t know, his arm around me feels nice. Foreign but… nice. “This is going to be amusing to watch,” he remarks.

  Zay scowls at him. “You think it’s funny that she’s pissing me off?”

  Hunter shakes his head. “Nah, she’s not pissing you off. She’s frustrating you because you’re not used to people being so blunt when they’re around you.” When Zay’s eyes scorch with annoyance, Hunter stage-whispers to me, “I think one of those temper tantrums you mentioned is coming.”

  Zay glares daggers at Hunter. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m gonna start plotting against you.”

  “Oh, come on, Zay, you know we’re just messing with you. And I think, deep down, you kind of like it. And I know you’re not going to do anything to me or to her.” Hunter rests his
cheek against mine. “I mean, look how cute we are. Would you really want to do anything that’d mess up these pretty faces?” Then he whispers to me, “Hurry and bat your eyelashes at him. He’s a sucker for that shit, whether he’ll admit it or not. Although, most girls don’t have the balls to do it to him.”

  Not totally believing him—Zay doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d go for the whole batting eyelashes thing—I still do what he instructs anyway, fluttering my eyelashes at Zay.

  “Now stick out your lip and say please, please don’t mess up my pretty face,” Hunter whispers, his breath dusting my cheek.

  I give an eye roll but do what he says. I’m not even sure why, other than it’s been a long time since I’ve been this entertained. The circumstances are a bit weird, though, after what happened.

  “Please, please don’t mess up my pretty face,” I say to Zay with my bottom lip jutted out.

  Zay shakes his head then sighs. “I’m not going to mess up your pretty face, so stop pouting.” He fixes a firm look on Hunter. “You need to lay off this, though.”

  “Lay off what?” Hunter bats his eyelashes innocently, and I giggle.

  Zay sears him with an insinuating look. “You know what.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that look.” Hunter carries his gaze. “You’re acting just as bad as I am.”

  Zay rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. I am not.”

  “Um, yeah you are,” Hunter insists. “The only difference is I always act this way. You never do, so the question is: why?”

  Zay’s eyes shadow over as he glares at Hunter. “You better shut it, brother. You’re crossing a line with this, and that’s the only warning I’m going to give you.”

  Hunter releases a dramatic sigh then removes his arm from my shoulders and holds up his hands in front of him. “Fine, I’ll chill.” His lips quirk. “For now.”

  Zay scratches his arm and mutters, “You’re so damn annoying sometimes.”

  I’m not sure what to make of what I saw. These guys are crazy. But so am I.

  Crazy.

  Freak.

  Murderer.

  My scars throb, reminding me that I’m barely wearing anything.

  “Hey, while we’re putting out requests and demands, can I put in one, too?” I ask, stretching out the hem of the shirt I’m wearing.

  “What do you want?” Zay grumbles while Hunter says cheerfully, “Anything you want. Name it and it’s yours.”

  “What if I ask for a unicorn?” I ask him.

  A smile curves across his face. “Then I’d say give me a couple of days and I’ll make sure to have a sparkly, glittery horse with a horn that poops out rainbows waiting for you on your front porch. I’ll even put a sparkly bow on it.”

  “Sounds appealing, but FYI, unicorns don’t poop out rainbows. Not sure where you got that information from.” I shake my head, realizing I’m getting sidetrack again. “But actually, I was going to ask for some clothes to wear. Preferably mine, but I’m not sure if they’re still wet.”

  “We put them in the dryer a couple of hours ago, so they should be nice and dry now.” Hunter’s gaze scrolls up and down my body. “You sure you don’t want to just wear my shirt? It looks amazing on you.”

  Shaking his head, Zay reaches out and smacks Hunter on the back of his head.

  Hunter gives him a dirty look as he rubs the spot. “Ow … What the heck was that for?”

  “For flirting with her and already trying to break the rule.” Zay nods at the doorway. “Go get her clothes. And while you’re at it, take the time to really think about what you’re doing. And I mean in a way bigger context. Like what’s going to happen in the long run instead of in the next few minutes.”

  “You know that’s not my style,” Hunter points out, lowering his hand to his side.

  “Well, you need to temporarily make it that way until we can figure this out or it’s not gonna work,” Zay stresses. “Now go get her clothes.”

  “Oh fine.” Hunter starts to leave, but then he pauses, grinning at Zay from over his shoulder. “Just because I’m doing what you told me to do doesn’t mean I’m actually letting you boss me around. I’m just trying to clear my head before things get too out of hand.” He sneaks an almost worried look in my direction then walks out of the room.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, he’s so annoying sometimes,” Zay mumbles, sinking down onto the edge of the pool table and massaging his temples with his fingertips.

  “And you aren’t?” I question.

  He lifts his gaze, giving me a dirty look. “I’m not annoying. I’m just complicated.”

  “Maybe Hunter is, too,” I suggest.

  “Are you defending him?” he questions with a cock of his brow.

  Am I? “I don’t know … Kind of … Maybe.”

  “Why?” he asks skeptically.

  “I don’t know … I guess because, out of all of you, he’s been the nicest to me. And he seems easygoing. Well, when he’s not helping you and Jax threaten me.”

  “Hunter is easygoing. He’s also fucked almost every chick in our school. Then, after he does, he ditches them.”

  I remember what Katy told me. “So I’ve heard.”

  His brow quirks as he crosses his lean arms. “And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Should it?”

  “Depends on why you seem to like him?”

  “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

  “I’m asking if you want to fuck him,” he states bluntly. “Because, if you’re going to be in our circle, you can’t fuck any of us.”

  “Don’t you think, if I wanted to fuck him or any of you guys, I would’ve taken you guys’ other option back at the bridge?” I tell him, self-consciously wrapping my arms around myself as memories of falling off the bridge flash through my mind.

  I just gave up.

  He drums his fingers against the side of the pool table. “Maybe. But maybe you just want to fuck Hunter. Who the hell knows? You seem like a really confusing girl.”

  “I am, but I don’t want to have sex with any of you.” It’s the truth, too.

  Sure, they’re all hot, but I’ve barely kissed anyone, so screwing seems a little far out of my reach right now.

  His gaze dissects me. Or tries to. Doubtful he can actually see the real me, especially since I can’t really see her anymore.

  “You never did mention who was running their mouth about us to you,” he says.

  Strands of my hair fall into my eyes as I shake my head. “I’m not going to rat out this person so you can haul them to the bridge and scare the crap out of them.”

  He pushes away from the table, his boots scuffing the hardwood floor as he takes a step toward me. “Being in this circle means telling each other stuff.”

  “But I still haven’t said I want to be in your circle,” I remind him, holding my ground.

  He inches closer, his gaze piercing into me. “You will once you realize it’s better than being out there alone.”

  I scratch my wrist and adjust my leather bands, making sure the scars he still hasn’t seen yet remain hidden. “Alone is what I know.”

  He’s thrown off a bit, missing a beat, but he quickly recovers then moves even closer to me. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. I mean, I understand that sometimes it can seem easier to be alone, but the truth is, it’s really not.”

  I tip my head back to meet his gaze. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  He smirks. “Maybe one day you’ll find out … if you become one of us. But I rarely tell outsiders shit about me. If I did, then they could use it against me. And I don’t need anyone having anything they can use against me. It’s too dangerous.”

  I wonder how he’d feel if he knew what Hunter told me about him. Not that I’m going to tell him and rat Hunter out.

  “Why’s it dangerous?” I ask.

  He just stares at me instead of replying.

  “Right,” I say. “I have to join your circle before you start telling
me stuff.”

  A slow smile spreads across his lips. “Finally, you’re catching on.”

  “I guess so. But I still have a ton of questions before I even consider joining you guys’ weird-ass circle that seems an awful lot like a gang.”

  “I’m sure you do, but not all of them are going to get answered,” he replies as he digs out his phone then glances at the screen.

  “Some have to be answered first … I mean …” I try to figure out where to start. “Is this a gang?”

  His gaze elevates to me. “If I said yes, would it be a deal breaker?”

  “I don’t know …” I chew on my bottom lip. “Are you guys killers?”

  His barely-there smile sends a chill down my spine. “If we were, it’d be stupid to ask me that.”

  “Why? You asked me if I was one.”

  “Yeah, but I’m fairly sure you’re not.”

  “And I already told you that you’re wrong.” I rub my hands up and down my arms as a coldness settles over me.

  “Are you saying that because you really can remember what happened that day?” He observes me with curiosity. “Or are you just buying into what everyone’s been whispering about you?”

  “How do you know I can’t remember …?” I trail off, frowning. “Right. You read my therapy file.” My frown deepens at how much he really knows about me. “Don’t you think it seems fair that I get to read yours then?”

  He grins coldly. “Who says I have one?”

  “Don’t you?” I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m betting I’m right. Just like I’m betting he’s been to therapy for anger management issues.

  He rolls his tongue in his mouth. “Yeah, I do.”

  “What’s it for?” I wonder. When he makes no effort to respond, I elevate my brows. “Come on, Zay.” I mock. “I thought you weren’t scared of anything.”

  “I never said that. What I said is that I want people to be scared of me, which means keeping my secrets to myself.” Then he crowds my personal space, dipping his lips toward my ear. “I’ll tell you what, though,” he whispers. “If you tell me what really happened with your parents—and I mean all the gory details—I’ll give you my therapy file.”

  I fight back a shiver as I imagine what it would be like to talk about my parents’ deaths aloud. I’ve only ever done it with a therapist. It was part of the deal that was struck when I was released from the psychiatric hospital.