The Raven Four: Books 1-2
Page 21
“And I’m not going to,” I proclaim. “So, can we please just stop talking about this?”
Wisps of Hunter’s blond hair falls into his eyes as his gaze sweeps across my body. Then he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and looks me in the eye. “Nah, I wanna keep talking about it or else it’s gonna be on my mind all damn day.”
“Hunter,” Jax cautions, sounding as if he’s losing his patience. “Rule number one.”
Hunter scrunches his nose. “Dammit, Jax, you’re always ruining my fun.” He sighs when Jax continues to stare him down. “Whatever. I’ll back off …” He momentarily frowns then fixes a smile onto his face as he looks at me again. “Guys like screwing your cousin, little raven, not because she’s some gorgeous goddess but because she’s probably an easy lay.”
“Maybe that’s true, but she’s still pretty,” I tell him with a shrug. “Tons of people have said so. And even though I don’t like her and think she’s totally vile, she is pretty. That’s something that just is what it is. And while I get that not every guy is into looks, there were a huge handful of them at our old school who were, and so Dixie May had quite the little groupie fan base that basically did whatever she asked.”
And her favorite thing to ask was for them to torment me.
Hunter crinkles his nose. “She’s okay-looking. But she tries to look that way. And whatever. If she wants to look good, then go ahead. It’s not really the point of this conversation.” He angles his head to the side as he reaches over the seat and sweeps his knuckles across my cheek. “Have you actually looked at yourself in a mirror? Or does your aunt and uncle not give you that privilege either?”
I lean away from his touch, feeling all sorts of weird about it.
I’ve spent so long not being touched until these guys entered my life twenty-four hours ago. And while I may not hate it, that contact of skin-to-skin makes me feel way out of my element.
“Yeah, I’ve looked in a mirror. My life isn’t that crazy. But I don’t look in it that much because I don’t try to look pretty.” I also hate seeing the scars all over my body, but I’m not going to tell them that. “And I don’t really care if am.
“I’m also not blind. I know my cousin is pretty. And from past experiences, her looks have gotten her what she’s wanted a lot. And right now, she wants you guys.”
“I’m sure you’re right. And I never said she wasn’t pretty, just that it wasn’t a completely natural pretty. I also said that wasn’t the point I was trying to get across.” Hunter reaches for me again. “Have you ever really looked at yourself? And I mean really looked at yourself without thinking about all the shit people have said to you?” He grazes the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip. “Have you ever paid attention to your lips? Have you ever tried to bite on them to get your way?” He then sketches his fingertip underneath my eye. “And those eyes. All you’d have to do is bat them at someone and you could get whatever you want. You just didn’t know any of this, so you haven’t done it.” He lowers his hand from my face. “And don’t even get me started on the rest of you.” His gaze deliberately scans up and down my body.
I hold my breath, hoping he’ll stop talking because it’s making me extremely uncomfortable. I can’t recall the last time anyone said anything nice to me—probably when my parents were alive—so I feel like Hunter is about to start laughing in my face and tell me he’s joking.
“Those long legs and that fucking ass …” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “It was the first thing I saw yesterday morning when I walked into the office. And fuck, if it wasn’t the best way to start my day. It was almost as good as getting fucked. Although, probably not as good as actually fucking you in the—”
“All right, that’s enough,” Jax cuts him off, his gaze searing into Hunter.
I startle, but I attempt to appear calm on the outside. Inside, I’m a mess. The compliments … the things he said … no one has ever spoken to me that way before, and I don’t know whether to be wary, appalled, or turned on. My body doesn’t seem to know either as a shiver rolls through me. Luckily, though, I’m a pro at keeping my cool and manage to act indifferent.
Hunter, though, looks all sorts of riled up, his gaze blazing into mine. But then he blinks, as if coming out of some sort of daze, and shifts his gaze to Jax. Surprisingly, he glares at him. “No, it’s not. She needs to hear this. Her confidence is so damn low it’s ridiculous.”
Jax scoots forward in the seat, his tone low but burning with warning. “And I told you to be careful with your choice of words. You’re about to cross a line, and deep down, you know that. You’re getting too worked up, so take a timeout, turn around, and focus on something else besides her.”
Hunter smashes his lips together, his gaze flitting from me to Jax. “Fine.” He turns around, crosses his arms, and stares out the window, pouting.
I let a slow breath ease from my lips as silence settles amongst the four of us. Jax is clearly annoyed. So is Hunter. Zay … I can’t see his face, but his knuckles are white as he grips the wheel.
Awesome. I’ve caused a fight between them already.
See? This is why you don’t have friends.
I start to suggest that maybe they should take me home, though the bus has probably come and gone by now, but then Jax turns to me.
“Now, why the hell does your side hurt this morning?” he asks, or more like demands.
I shake my head. “I already said—”
He puts that damn finger against my lips again. “Either you’re going to tell me, or I’m going to lift your shirt and see for myself.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Go ahead. I’ll fight you—you know I will. But what you don’t know about me is that I’ve got a wicked right hook. I just didn’t get a chance to use it yesterday. Today, I’m more prepared.”
“I’m sure you are,” he says without an ounce of emotion in his tone, so I can’t tell if he believes me or not. “But trust me; I’ll win this fight. I always do, because I always do whatever it takes to win.”
A chill rolls down my spine, but I resist the compulsion to shiver.
“So do I,” I lie.
The truth is that, while I always try to win fights, I fail most of the time; either because I’m outnumbered or, like with my uncle, it’s an authoritative figure who’s hurting me.
I swallow hard then lift my chin, refusing to look weak.
Jax’s eyes shadow over, his pierced lips parting. “If you think—”
“Zay, pull the car over for a minute,” Hunter announces, giving a pressing glance at Zay.
Jax’s gaze cuts to Hunter. “Why?” he asks at the same time Zay gives him a confused look and mutters, “Wait … You’re not …?”
Hunter gives Zay with an indecipherable look then looks at Jax. “I know you think I can’t handle this, but just let me talk to her privately for, like, five minutes. You guys can keep an eye on me from the car, and if it looks like I’m getting out of control, tape my mouth shut and make me ride in the trunk.” His lips quirk with amusement. But underneath the humor, I detect the slightest bit of sadness reflecting in his eyes.
I wonder what it is, what could possibly make the most upbeat guy I’ve ever met sad.
Jax meticulously studies him. “Are you going to …?”
Hunter swallows hard then nods. “Yeah … I think it might help. With everything.”
Jax considers what he said then nods. “We’ll give you five minutes. That’s it, though. And keep on topic. No straying off to her ass or legs, got it?”
Hunter nods.
Sighing loudly, Zay slows down the car and steers it over onto a flattened space on the side of the road near a cluster of trees. An old farmhouse is in the distance, but other than that, nothing else is around, so there are no witnesses if they decide to pull a stunt like they did yesterday.
“You do realize I can hear you guys, right?” I say, my lips moving against Jax’s finger since he hasn’t pulled it away yet.
“Really?” Hunter mockingly gasps. “This whole time I thought you were deaf. Crap, I hope I didn’t say anything offensive.” He pulls a whoopsie face.
I blast him a hardy har har look, to which he responds with a cheeky grin.
Sighing, Jax lowers his finger from my lips then pats the back of Hunter’s seat. “Hurry up. I want to have time to go over the rules with her.”
Hunter gives him a salute then pushes the door open, hops out, and lifts the seat up. Then Jax lowers his head and climbs outside, too. A couple of seconds tick by where they simply stand there before Hunter glances back into the cab, strands of his hair hanging in his eyes.
“Come on, little bird; you and I need to talk about a few things,” he tells me, weirdly without grinning.
“Little bird,” the doctor whispers in my ear, causing goosebumps to sprout across my flesh. “Close your eyes …”
“Fine.” I grimace as I cross the seat toward him. “But please don’t call me little bird. If you have to call me something other than my name, then just stick with little raven, okay?”
A crease forms between his brows, but he nods. “Okay. Little raven it is.”
I appreciate his lack of arguing about this—honestly, I didn’t think any of them would ever not argue with me—and offer him a small smile. “Thanks.”
He smiles back and mutters, “So fucking beautiful.”
Luckily, Jax doesn’t hear him, or else I think he would have chewed his ass out.
Me? I roll my eyes so damn hard they nearly get stuck in the back of my head.
But all Hunter does is give me an innocent look. “What? I’m just saying the truth.”
Sighing, I move to climb out, and halfway out, Hunter takes my hand, unnecessarily helping me the rest of the way out. When I’m standing, he doesn’t release my hand, guiding me past Jax and toward some trees.
My guard immediately goes up, and I curl my free hand into a fist, preparing to fight if I need to. “Where are we going?”
“Into those trees,” Hunter replies as he continues to pull me forward, his clunky boots scuffing the dirt. “I need some privacy for this.”
My stomach ravels into knots again, but this time it’s an unpleasant sensation.
Maybe I am naïve, I realize. I mean, I got in a car with these guys without a phone or anything, and now I’m wandering into the trees with one of them.
I have a feeling something bad is about to happen.
The worst part is, I did it to myself.
Raven
Unnerving silence stretches between us as Hunter leads me closer to the trees and farther away from civilization.
“Relax.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “None of us are ever going to hurt you.”
“I’m not worried about you hurting me,” I lie coolly. I kind of am, but I’m not going to freak out. It’s not my style. No, I’m going to remain calm until I need to fight.
Once tree branches and shade surround Hunter and me, he comes to a stop and faces me. “This should be good enough.” He peers around the area then releases my hand.
I keep my fist curled, ready to fight. “Good enough for what?”
“For it to just be you and me.” He threads his fingers through mine again and smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know it’s hard to trust people. Trust me; I get that—we all do. But we’re never going to even get a chance to earn your trust if you won’t trust us even a little. In order to gain trust, you have to give trust a little bit, if that makes any sense.”
“Yeah, it does, but that doesn’t mean I can just give it.” I give a half-shrug. “It’s almost instinctive for me to not trust people.” For a lot of reasons.
In fact, I don’t even trust myself.
“And again, I understand that, so I’m gonna attempt to put a little fracture in your instinct by trusting you enough to show you something that no one except for Zay, Jax, and the person who did this to me knows about.” He opens and flexes his free hand and takes an uneven breath.
He’s nervous.
Why’s he nervous?
When he lifts up the hem of his shirt, I suddenly have my answer.
My breath catches in my throat at the sight of the long, thin, but deep scars covering his sides, chest, and waist.
“What happened?” I ask, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He rubs his lips together as he lowers his shirt, then a breath trembles from his lips. “My dad had this mistress … She was bad … even worse than my real mom …” His hand starts to tremble in mine, so he pulls away and crosses his arms, tucking his hands underneath his armpits. “But anyway, she’s a bitch who gets off on using her power on people who are weaker than her. And when I was younger, I was a lot weaker than her … And, well, she used to do things to me a lot … And she would scratch me a lot while she did those things to me.”
He doesn’t specify what the things are, but with the way he’s trembling, I get a pretty good idea.
“You’re lovely, little bird,” he whispers while stroking my hair. “You’re the loveliest bird I’ve ever captured.”
The memories tears at the inside of my brain and I stab my fingernails into my palms, reigning back my emotions, and concentrate on Hunter.
I’m not really certain what to say to him. I’ve never had anyone confide in me with something so personal. It makes me feel uncomfortable; enough that I just want to get back in the car. But he’s also standing here in front of me, shivering from what I’m fairly sure isn’t the cold, and the sight of it tugs at a memory of me trembling in a bed while my uncle leaned over me and carved the word freak into my side. It was the first time he did it, and I was freakin’ terrified. But I learned quickly to numb myself.
“I’m sorry,” I finally say.
Then, before I can give myself a chance to back out, I reach for the hem of my own shirt and lift it up, putting all my scars and the fresh wounds on display for him.
As soon as the chilly air hits my skin, a shiver courses through my body. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Deep down, though, I know the cold air isn’t what has my body quivering.
Fear. Fuck. There it is again. I really don’t like it.
I almost tug my shirt back down, but he captures my hand.
“Jesus,” he whispers, reaching out and tentatively touching my skin.
He starts at the top, tracing each letter marking my flesh with his fingertips, slowly working his way to the bottom. When he reaches the fresh wound, he pauses, his gaze traveling up to mine. “He did this to you last night?” he asks, his gaze searing into mine.
“I never said it was a he,” I reply coolly, my guard going back up.
He gives me a tolerant look. “You may have not said the words aloud, but we know your uncle did this to you.” He strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “It’s okay to say it aloud. Whatever he threatened you with to keep you silent, we won’t let him do to you. We won’t let him hurt you.”
“He didn’t threaten me with anything.” Which is the truth. “I just know that no one’s gonna believe me.” With him being a cop and me being a once accused killer, that’s the real truth.
He dips his head, leveling his gaze with mine; his expression soft, cautious. “I’ll believe you. I promise I will.”
“Because of the rules?” I question with cynicism.
“No, because I know that ugly exists in this world and that people who are supposed to love and take care of us end up being the worst tormentors.”
His words strike a nerve inside me, but I can’t get the words—the truth I’ve been carrying inside me for years—to leave my lips.
“Hunter … I …” I trail off as he cups my face between his hands.
“Just trust me, like I trust you,” he says, his gaze searing into mine.
Trust. What the hell is it even? I have no plans of finding out, but he just keeps on staring at me, waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
“Trusting people is hard,” I finally confess.
“I wouldn’t know,” I mutter, feeling so damn tired.
Of fighting. Of everything.
When I look back at this moment, I won’t be able to say why I decided to confide in someone. But something definitely changes in me the second I utter the words aloud. Whether it’s a good change or a bad one, I haven’t got a damn clue.
“I came home from you guys’ place, and my uncle had found out I’ve been stealing from his drug stash,” I start, feeling terrified, a completely new feeling for me, which seems crazy considering I jumped off a bridge yesterday. But that seemed easy in comparison to trusting someone. Trust is fucking scary. “He pinned me down on the bed and carved that”—I gesture at the word disappointment—“into my side.”
Frowning, he gently touches the scars on my side again. “Why didn’t you call us? Didn’t Zee give you the card?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have my phone, remember? And we don’t have a house phone.”
Remorse crosses his expression. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. I’m so damn sorry, little raven. I really am… I’m going to make it up to you somehow.”
I shake my head. “You don’t need to do that. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have called you anyway.”
“You should always call us when you need help,” he insists in what I’m assuming is a stern tone for him, but it’s filled with too much gentleness. “In fact, promise me you will.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Then we’re gonna stand here all damn day.”
“Fine, I promise.” It’s a total lie, though.
Asking for help… trusting people… It’s definitely my thing.
With his lips pressed into a thin line, he looks down at my scars. “Did your put all of these on you?” He doesn’t remove his hand, keeping it on my scars just underneath my shirt.
“Yeah, he started doing it years ago. He does it when I do something that really pisses him off. Although, he’s been doing it more frequently the older I get. But that might be because I get in more trouble now than I used to.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, wavering. “I don’t know. He kinda seems to … get off on it, so maybe he just likes doing it.”