Ethan encouraged her to get a dog a few months after I came to Thorne Point so she wouldn’t be so lonely. The rescue dog adores her as much as she loves him.
Breathing becomes hard for a minute and I put the phone down, pretending I need my hands free to slice my pizza. I don’t deserve her for a mom. Not someone like me, capable of something terrible. It’s my fault she went through hell, but she came out on the other side of it choosing joy over her grief.
“Is Ethan home?”
Her question drags me out of my head and I force out an uneven breath. “What?”
“I was trying to get a hold of your brother, but he hasn’t called back. I just wanted to say hello. I missed his voice since he checks in less lately. Have you heard from him?”
“I, um.” Shaking my head, I get myself under control, believing the partial lie I’m about to give her. “He’s been traveling for a story, so he’s not home. I’ll tell him to call you when I hear from him.”
She accepts it easily enough. We both know how hard it is to reach Ethan when he’s buried in his work.
I hate lying to her. If she knew everything, she wouldn’t love her horrible daughter.
We talk while we eat and somehow I manage to keep it together, putting on my mask of hard-working college student. When I hang up I sink into the couch, rubbing my throbbing temples. It’s not until I realize I’m sitting in Ethan’s spot that I scramble up.
“Fuck,” I hiss, shifting to the opposite end.
Peering around the small apartment I share with Ethan, my chest burns. I’ve left his stuff alone, the little mementos of his presence gathering dust. I’m afraid if I do anything with it that it’ll make it real, that he won’t come back.
I miss my brother.
Reaching out, I touch his chipped mug on the coffee table. He favors it because he thinks it’s lucky. When I first moved in for school three years ago, I tried to throw it out, but he wouldn’t let me. The memory washes over me as I trace the scuffed lions that bracket the Thorne Point University crest.
“You can’t throw it out, dude.” Ethan cradled the mug closer to his chest.
“Why not? It’s chipped. You’ll cut your lip, dork. I totally know how you get when you’re sucked into your work.” When I reached for it again, he angled away, shoving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Ethan. Come on. Just buy a new one.”
“Nope. My apartment, my rules. You should move into a dorm on campus if you’re going to diss my favorite mug.”
My muscles seized and my eyes grew wide. He insisted I move in with him instead of living on campus.
“Hey.” He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t thinking.”
I pushed out a brittle laugh and brushed him off. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s not. It’s okay to not be okay yet, or ever. Grief takes time.”
Ethan scrubbed at his brow, looking older than twenty-three, tired and sad. My throat closed over. He’d been hiding it from me how much Dad’s death affected him. I thought it was bad when he was in the hospital on life support, but pulling the plug was so much worse. Fresh guilt twisted my stomach.
“Look, no one expects you to just be good overnight.” Ethan sighed. “It’s only been a couple of months, and on top of that you’re away from home to start your freshman year.”
I shrugged, the movement jerky and wooden. “It’s better than being at home.”
At the muttered admission, Ethan’s expression softened. Once he ensured his mug was safe from me, he nudged me over to the overstuffed armchair by the window in the one brick wall.
“Let’s write.” He grabbed the leather satchel to pull out his laptop.
This was why I followed in his footsteps. I sat there, tracing the edge of my computer for a few minutes, covertly watching him get absorbed in the story he was working on. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t writing about anything in particular, allowing the thoughts to flow from my head. The sound of our typing calmed me down.
My gaze locks on the armchair. It’s mine. Ethan always preferred the couch. Scraping my fingers over my face, I release a heavy sigh.
I have to find him.
Six
Wren
The metallic scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. It mixes with the sour tang of piss and the pathetic whimpering grunts our captive frat boy makes when Levi drags the sharp tip of a knife over his restrained forearms threateningly.
“A name. You can’t be that stupid. The choice is more of this, or making it all stop.” I spit at his feet when all he does is attempt to cower further into a hunched position. Whatever. He won’t hide from any of us. “Just give me the name of whoever the fuck helped you cover up your mess.”
Instead of answering, a fresh trickle of liquid pools beneath the chair he’s strapped to, mixing with the sticky dried stain of urine from when we started two days ago.
Goddamn it. He keeps pissing himself. How does he have anything left in the tank?
Levi exchanges a terse look with me, tongue prodding at his lip piercing. My nostrils flare as I push out an annoyed exhale. At this point, I’d kill the idiot just to get rid of him.
That’s not what we’ve agreed to do with this rapist piece of shit, though. It would’ve been the easy way out.
“P-please,” the captive frat boy begs hoarsely. His face is swollen, bruised, and bloody. “Please, I—I have money. I’ve told you, my dad will pay whatever you ask. Just let me go.”
The force of my snort jerks my head. My patience has run out for the night. “Lev.”
“Yeah,” he says as I turn to leave. Lowering his voice, he whispers a nightmare into reality, “Have you heard of the Leviathan?”
“No! No, god, I don’t—no, please!”
Frantic cries and the unmistakable sound of Levi’s fists hitting the guy we kidnapped follow me out of the room, barely audible once the heavy door slams shut, leaving me in the empty hall with my thoughts.
I pinch the bridge of my nose but it doesn’t dull the ache in my temples. Partially dried blood stains my knuckles. I survey the back of my hands before striding down the hall to the main area of the secret level beneath the Crow’s Nest to clean up. The restless energy I can’t shake skitters beneath my skin. I’ll need to hit the gym for a workout to burn it off.
Colton leans back in front of his computers, feet kicked up on the desk, absorbed in an online poker match on one monitor while he plays a battle royale game on another. A third window in the bottom corner runs a scrolling code he initiated to search for Ethan Hannigan.
“Go! Go, go, now!” He smashes buttons on the controller, splitting his attention to make his play and call the bet his opponent makes in the card game. He groans when the river card is revealed. “My queen, someday I’ll get you.”
“Stop flirting with the AI,” Jude mumbles from his sprawl on the couch. “No matter what your perverted brain thinks, it can’t consent.”
He’s shirtless, drowsily rubbing at his smooth bronze stomach. He’s like a cat, capable of napping anywhere. His Crow tattoo sits over his heart, the only thing he’ll allow to touch it after the number Pippa did on him. I flick the top of his head on my way to wash my hands in the open layout kitchen next to the gym. He grunts and flips me off, not bothering to waste his effort on swiping back at me.
“Queen_Q isn’t AI. She lured me in with that bluff. Again.” Colton tugs on a lock of dark hair hanging over his eyes, reverence seeping into his tone. “No programming is capable of beating me at poker. But her?” With a dopey grin, he folds his arms behind his head. “A worthy adversary.”
I leave them to their bickering and strip out of my hoodie as I step into the gym to work out the aggression strangling me. It’s always there, an inescapable weight that sits on me, waiting for the smallest instigation to trigger my rage. Anger is the only thing I can feel in the vast emptiness.
After I pull on a loose pair of shorts, I go for the punching b
ag, needing to hit something while I shut out the world. Not bothering with music, I run through a quick warm up and throw myself into it. The thump of my fists hitting the bag is satisfying, but still my body feels tight and twitchy. My breathing grows ragged the more I move.
A growl tears from my throat as I dig harder, muscle memory and instinct kicking in. Coleman’s face is the one I picture slamming my fists into, but he’s gone now. He only lives on in my head.
My lungs burn as I think of the night I killed him. Body broken beyond repair, and still it wasn’t enough. It didn’t bring my sister back.
I catch the swinging bag, resting my forehead against it. A tingle of awareness pricks at the back of my neck. With a slight shift, I see a silhouette at the edge of the gym.
Levi’s stare presses into my back. I hate it when he sneaks up on me.
“We have a rule,” I grunt.
He’s too good at becoming one with the shadows and blind spots. Colt decided he has to make some fucking noise or he’ll put a bell on him.
Instead of answering, he circles around the bag to brace his shoulder into it, the silent permission to start my set over implicit. With a sigh, I begin a punishing jab sequence that makes my muscles bunch and burn.
Levi watches my form, muttering corrections. He trained us all, even Colt’s foster brother who was desperate for an outlet for the fury he carried. But out of our group, Levi Astor is the only one who has put deathly focus into turning his body into a weapon.
It takes longer than I expected with the intense look he levels me with, but finally he says something twenty minutes later when sweat drips from my body.
“What’s up with you?” Levi catches my fist before it collides violently with the punching bag again with an unimpressed look. “You haven’t been the same since we caught Coleman.”
Damn it. I huff and step back, rolling my shoulders. He knows me too well. We all do—it’s easy to read each other when we understand the dark secrets that shaped us into who we are.
For a brief moment I consider punching him. He’d take the bait into sparring, but he’s as stubborn as I am once he decides to worry about something.
I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Empty guilt scrapes me from the inside and I hate it. Coleman fucking deserved what I did to him for the torment he put my sister through by preying on her. The only reason I can come up with is that I didn’t do it sooner to maybe save Charlotte. I scrub a hand over my face and drag my hair out of my eyes.
“I’m fine.” It’s all I get out before I clench my jaw hard enough to hurt.
“Bullshit,” he scoffs. “You haven’t been fine for a long ass while. It’s been almost two years.”
I can tell by the way Levi side-eyes me that even the darkest monster among us thinks I went too far.
“I know.” My jaw works.
My life was never idyllic, but I had Charlotte. She was my light. Since it’s been snuffed out, nothing’s been the same.
Revenge. It’s what I went after. Didn’t help. Not a damn bit. The anger hasn’t dulled or faded in the slightest, still raging as fiercely as it has for years.
My younger sister is still dead. Mom’s still checked out on a daily cocktail of pills and whatever bottle she can reach. My father is…
“Yo.” Colt leans against the door to the gym, waving one of his tablets. “We’ve got a visitor.”
“What do you mean?” I stalk over.
He hands over his device. The live security feed of the grounds is pulled up, a girl with a familiar messy braid poking around. The sight of her pushes at my already loose control.
I tighten my grip on the tablet and Colt eyes me like he’s worried I’ll snap the fucking thing in half.
“Easy, big guy,” he says mildly, reaching for it.
“How long has she been here?”
He shrugs. “Ten minutes or so.”
I push past him and stride into the main room. Levi and Colt follow. Jude’s no longer napping lazily, gaze sharpened and alert.
“Put it up on the monitor,” I demand.
Colton taps out a command on the screen. The feed enlarges on his wall of monitors and a low snarl vibrates in my throat as she sneaks around near our cars. This digs at my boundaries and I’m close to a breaking point. If she tests me, she won’t like the consequences. The secret she kept is only safe because I let her get away with it, but with this, cutthroat greed rises alongside my menace.
Dark fantasies mix with the thin hold on my control. She walked into a den of beasts, her willfulness an enticing challenge in itself. I want to see how brave she is when I capture her, strip her bare, and tie her to my goddamn bed.
“Let’s show her what happens to people who trespass uninvited.” Jude’s suggestion is edged with danger.
A sick grin splits my face and I crack my neck from side to side. Hunting her is going to be fun. I was right before, she’s out of her league and has no idea what we’re capable of. My wickedness is mirrored in my brothers’ expressions.
“Spread out. But she’s mine to catch.”
Seven
Rowan
This was a great idea in my head, but as most of those go, it works out better in theory than in practice. I curse as my foot catches on another overgrown vine in the path I’m sneaking along. The ocean air is chilly and I’m regretting the denim jacket I threw on over a flannel. I tug the jacket tighter as my boots scrape on the weed-choked gravel.
Mom’s always been on my case about how impatience and curiosity would likely be the death of me. I can’t shut either off, so it’s probably true.
Ethan understood. He used to assure me curiosity was something that made someone a good journalist. Pausing for a moment, I listen to the distant crash of waves at the base of the cliff while I weather the burning ache in my chest.
Heart in my throat, I edge around an eerie statue of an angel to reach a terrace at the side of the Crow’s Nest Hotel. I can’t believe I’m back here within a week, but the Crows weren’t doing anything to help find my brother and I’m sick of waiting.
It’s early enough that dusk hasn’t set in yet, the sky awash with fading streaks of deep reds, oranges, and purples. This place is even creepier without the thrumming base beat and the club crowd. A row of nice cars and motorcycles line one side of the terrace by an ivy-covered wall. Beyond them, a wide stone staircase leads up to an entrance that’s seen better days, the bay windows on either side of the door cracked or missing glass.
An unpleasant scraping sound has me freezing. I look around and decide it was a tree branch. One was hanging low over the angel statue I passed. Just as I’m about to accept it, the noise comes again, closer this time. It’s distinct, like the blade of something sharp dragging on stone. My stomach bottoms out and I feel my pulse in my palms as I dart through the hedge maze that spans the front of the hotel grounds.
Deep, haunting laughter echoes behind me as I whip around the bushes.
“Shit,” I hiss when an unruly branch catches on my shirt.
I fight with it and wince at the scrape against my skin. The sound of footsteps on the other side of the hedge wall makes my heart thump. I free myself and release a relieved sigh before taking off. Another laugh sounds, trailing me on the other side of the bushes. This time it’s more playful, but no less threatening. Wide-eyed, I search for an opening to dart through.
There. I almost miss the opening that blends with the rest of the hedge wall.
“Better hurry,” the voice on the other side of the maze taunts. Mischief drips from his tone.
“Mother fu—” I break off and grit my teeth.
Colton. I know it’s him. He’s enjoying this.
“What’s gonna happen when you’re caught, hmm?” He breaks off in a chuckle.
Narrowing my eyes, I grab a stick and hurl it further down the path. I hold my breath and wait, willing him to take the bait. There’s nothing but silence for a second, then the sound of retreating footsteps. Something
buzzes overhead, but I ignore it and slip through the hidden opening when Colton is far enough away.
Just as I think I’m fine, the hedge in front of me shakes vigorously and a pair of hands shoot through the gnarled dead branches. There’s nothing I can do to hold my scream in. Is he going to give up on the maze and force his way through to get me? I’m not taking that chance.
Spinning on my heel, I dart off, losing track of the amount of turns I take through the maze. It’s getting darker now. The faint buzzing doesn’t go away and cruel laughter punctuates the rapid beat of my heart.
With a sickening thought, I realize I’m being hunted. No. Not just hunted, herded.
These bastards are trying to scare me, leading me where they want me to go. For all I know, they’re aiming to get me so turned around I accidentally plummet to my death off the cliff edge to the ocean below.
Hell no. With a rough frustrated noise, I change directions and double back the way I came. There’s no way I’m letting them scare or intimidate me.
I hesitate at an intersection to listen. It sounds like they’re far off now. Did I come this way, though? I can’t remember and in the fading light it’s difficult to tell. A twig snapping nearby has me running blindly again.
As I collide with a wall of muscle around the next turn, I let out a startled oof. Big hands grab my arms, trapping me. I struggle on instinct, stomping on a foot. It doesn’t have the desired effect. All I get for my trouble is a rumble of laughter. I snap my head up and glare at my captor.
Wren grins at me, arrogant and sadistic. “Enjoying an evening stroll on my property?”
He doesn’t have a shirt on, granting me a view of his perfect, sweaty body with muscles cut from marble. The tattoos I caught a glimpse of before wrap around his neck from his back and paint his forearms in a twisted depiction of roses. In the dim light I can just make out feathers and royal motifs inked around his neck. He likes crowns. My gaze drags back up his abs. A shiny black barbell pierces his nipple and his blond hair is damp at the roots. Without the product he used to slick it back it hangs in his cool blue eyes.
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