Because we’re pressed together under the guise of dancing, she’s able to pick up on the slight change in my demeanor. My chest expands strangely at the thought she’s learning to read me.
“Someone has either taken notice of you when we’re around, or…” I don’t want to tell her the more plausible reason. My tone turns foreboding. “Or it has to do with your brother. Either way, they consider you an easy target.”
Rowan’s throat works on a swallow, eyes shimmering.
Having one of us or someone we trust on her at all times isn’t enough anymore. I have to do more, keep her closer in order to protect her.
If they’re sending people to follow her because Ethan got himself tangled in a Russian mafia’s business, I can’t be careless.
Rowan won’t like it. I expect when she finds out what I’m planning, she’ll fight me tooth and nail. I’m not waiting for her permission. It’s for her own safety, so she’ll have to accept that I’ll do whatever is necessary.
Without needing to speak, I alert the guys of trouble by meeting each of their gazes. We’re attuned to each other to recognize the subtle things our expressions mean. It’s the result of the deep bond we share. They converge on us as I direct Rowan away from the dancing to the row of glass paned double doors that lead to the terrace.
“We might have a problem.” Jude throws a glance over his shoulder at Pippa, clenching his teeth at the smirk she shoots back. “She’s way too smug tonight. I think she’s either got evidence on the Leviathan cases or she’s planning something big to come after us.”
“Worry about it later, we have a bigger problem.” A muscle jumps in my jaw. I’ll need to spend time in the training room tonight or spar with Levi to dispel the anger. “They targeted Rowan and followed her on campus.”
The three of them respond the same as I did, proving how quickly she’s wormed her way past the impenetrable walls we shield ourselves with, even the most formidable of them—mine. The instinct that she belongs amongst monsters was right before.
“Shit, seriously?” Colt’s lip curls. “No way in hell are we letting anyone mess with you, Ro. We’ve got your back.”
“Thanks,” she says. “I have photos I took on the sly.”
Levi nods, approval flaring in his dark eyes. “Smart. Good job.”
“Text it to me, babe. I’ll start a search stat.” Colton has his phone out. For him, this is his protective mode.
A commotion behind me cuts our tense conversation short. The murmurs from the guests become scandalized whispers that grate on my crumbling patience.
“Wren,” Jude says grimly.
Someone yelps. It’s followed by shattering glass and a tray crashing to the floor. The music stops and the room falls silent except for the hushed gossip.
Damn it. I don’t want to turn. Don’t want to face what I know I’ll find.
My eyes find Rowan’s and my heart only shudders harder, old wounds scraped raw. I expect pity, but instead there’s understanding in her gaze. In that moment it pushes me to break another rule—makes me want to give her my trust. It’s something I haven’t granted anyone outside my circle in years.
Rowan squeezes my hand. Somehow it’s that small gesture that gives me enough strength to turn around.
The sight sears my throat. My mother is in her nightgown, eyes glassy from whatever she’s baked out of her mind on, stumbling around. Her hair is unkempt, knotted on one side from laying in bed. People stare, forgetting propriety when there’s a train wreck playing out before them.
If she knew what she was doing she’d hate herself, hate anyone who allowed her to leave her room like this. The woman she was before she lost her daughter to suicide was always put together. She was the height of a society woman, the bar others strived to reach.
Dad chooses to ignore her instead of getting her the help she needs. Now she’s broken beyond repair. Maybe worse than I am.
Mom sways on her feet and spots me. “I heard there was a party. I love parties.”
My throat clicks on a thick swallow as I stride across the parquet floor to her side. Up close, my nose wrinkles at the strength of her sour breath. Her satin nightgown is stained from stale sweat and something that might have been red pasta sauce. An invisible force carves out my chest when I grasp her elbow to guide her away, knowing how much she’d despise anyone seeing her in this state.
“Come on, Mom,” I say hoarsely.
She draws a shaking breath, leaning into me. She feels so fucking frail. Pressing her face into my chest, I feel her chin wobble as she chokes on her whispered words. “Charlotte loved parties.”
My heart clenches. Fuck.
A violent sob rocks my mother’s body. She breaks down in the kind of bone-deep tears that overtake her when the clarity hits—when she remembers that Charlotte is gone. It’s moments like this I hate my sister for what she did. For leaving us to deal with the fallout. And then I hate myself more.
As I cradle her greasy blonde hair, my gaze collides with Dad’s across the room. He’s annoyed, speaking with jerky movements to a maid who pales and nods before hurrying over to collect the heartbroken woman in my arms.
“I’m sorry, sir.” The maid speaks so softly it’s difficult to hear her over Mom’s wailing cries. “I was preparing a bath and she slipped out.”
“Get her to bed,” I order. She encourages Mom away from me with gentleness. I grab the maid’s arm before she goes. “If this ever happens again, you’re fired. You won’t work again in this city.”
Her face drains of color. “Yes, sir. Come along, Mrs. Thorne.”
Once the maid and my mother exit the room, the stifling atmosphere hangs in the air. I make sure to pass a withering glower around the room. Several people avert their gazes in the face of my ire. The last person I glare at is my father, who laughs with the man he met with in his study like nothing happened. Ruthless fucking bastard.
The constant simmering anger is close to exploding. Its claws are sunken deep within me, threatening the imminent loss of control. A hand slipping into mine pulls me back from the edge I teeter on, cutting off my jagged breathing.
“Are you okay?” Rowan asks quietly.
Something shifts again between us. Sympathy is evident in her expression and she threads her fingers with mine, caressing the back of my hand with her thumb. Her touch grounds me, allowing my head to clear enough to think straight.
The guys stand behind her, Fox and Maisy hovering nearby. I don’t answer her question. The reality is that I’ll never be fine. Before my sister died, I wasn’t a good person. Charlotte’s death, the revenge I got by killing her demented predator, the blood soaking my hands—it all chipped away at any remaining shred of humanity I had. It left me with an empty heart that has just enough capacity to care for the few people I consider family.
I know I’m a monster. I’m not capable of the kind of love she deserves. The question is, can Rowan live with that? If not, we’re doomed to go up in flames once we find her brother and shatter her world. But I’ve made her mine and I’m never letting her go, villainous enough to damn her to the misery of despising me now that we’ve brought her into our inner circle. At least I’ll understand the pain she faces if her brother is dead.
“Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve seen enough,” I grit out.
We’ve done all the talking we can. Jude and Colt took care of the rest by running a con to gain access to the phones of the wealthiest players in the room so Colt could bug them.
Rowan finds her friend to say goodnight while everyone else prepares to go. I don’t leave her side for a second, too alert for potential threats to stand letting her out of my sight.
On our way through the entrance hall, Dad and Levi’s Uncle stop us.
“Boys,” Baron Astor says.
“We’ve made enough of an appearance for the founders foundation.” Levi’s lips thin. “We’re heading out.”
His uncle frowns. Unlike Levi’s late father who Levi resemble
d closely, his uncle is a portly man with a thick beard. He’s the brother of Levi’s mother, but Levi’s father was his business partner. The two of them haven’t seen eye to eye since Levi was a kid. The experience he went through was enough of a nightmare to never trust his uncle again.
“A word before you go,” Dad says.
My arm tightens around Rowan’s waist for a beat, but I allow Colton to escort her out with an unspoken understanding passing between the four of us, needing her far away from my father if he’s connected to this mess. Jude, Fox, and Maisy go with them, leaving Levi and I behind. She looks at me over her shoulder with a worried pinch creasing her brows.
“Go. I’ll be right behind you.”
Colt gives me an imperceptible nod and throws an arm over Rowan’s shoulder. My body tenses, but I know he’s protecting her. I trust him.
He speaks loudly on the way to the door, shooting finger guns at the butler. “Anyone in the mood for ice cream? I could totally go for ice cream. Rowan?”
“Sounds good.” She glances at me once more and I dip my head in encouragement. “You’re buying.”
I set my jaw and face my father and Levi’s uncle. “Make it quick. What else do you want?”
“So much impatience in your generation,” Baron says airily.
“They’ll learn.” Dad fiddles with his gilded signet ring. “Everyone does.”
Baron has a matching one. Most of the high society men of Thorne Point do.
“Indeed.”
“Well?” I prompt.
“I keep trying to convey the importance of your responsibilities. The commoner company you’re keeping falls under that,” Dad says.
Rowan.
I’ll never let anyone touch her, least of all him. If I’m a monster with my own skewed moral compass and agenda, he’s an evil devil without a heart.
My fists ball and I sneer. “You seem to be keeping commoner company as well.”
“You can’t play games forever, Wren. Eventually your place in this world needs to be secured.” Dad’s gaze bores into me. “Carpe regnum.”
I stare at him. I’ve always hated the Latin motto my grandfather repeated to me over and over. Seize the kingdom.
Twenty-One
Rowan
“If you insist on being in my classes, you should pitch in so I pass,” I tell Colton and Levi after my Monday morning lecture finishes. Isla waits for us at the end of the hall. “Seriously, if my grades drop there’s no way I can afford tuition. And you assholes never let me pay attention. I’m trying to finish my degree and graduate.”
Colton waggles his brows, tilting his head to give me a charming smolder. It shows off the crow tattoo on his neck. “What do I get in return?”
“I won’t pay you to do my coursework.”
“Nah, I don’t need the dough. Unless you’re offering head, then—” Levi smacks him and he holds up his hands before I throw the punch I’m aiming. “Hey! Kidding, jesus. Let’s do a movie night. Hang out with us and I’ll write your Ethics paper.”
I grin. He’s figured out my least favorite class on my schedule. “If I can get Wren to stop breathing down my neck, deal.”
After the gala, I spent the weekend in his bed at the Crow’s Nest, most of it sweaty and naked. He didn’t want me to go to classes, but finally relented when I sucked his dick in the shower this morning while presenting my argument. I was almost late because he caged me in after he came and went down on me until he was hard again, then I was lifted into his strong arms and fucked within an inch of my life against the wall.
In the brief moments we came up for air, I told the guys what I saw when the creepy man followed me on campus and what I overheard the night I went to the docks.
“Good luck with that,” Levi says.
“Good luck with what?” Isla asks when she joins us.
Levi returns to being a silent jerk around her. I roll my eyes.
“Colton wants a movie night, but Wren’s been monopolizing my time all weekend,” I explain.
“Oh, fun. Love a good movie binge,” Isla says.
“They don’t believe I’ll be able to get away, but look—” I spread my hands. “—I’m here without him. Also, he’s not in charge of what I want to do.”
Levi snorts, tonguing his lip ring. Isla sticks her tongue out at him. He blinks at her, momentarily frozen. I cover a smile with my hand.
“The big guy’s just looking out. It means he likes you when he’s all intense like that,” Colton says. “Some kind of primal mating ritual dance to mark his territory. At least, that’s my working theory. He doesn’t really date.”
My heart stutters and I bite my lip. I’ll admit, part of me likes how he’s been all over me. Before when he wanted to control me it pissed me off because it came off like he was better than me and that was the reason he expected me to kneel for him like everyone else does.
“Most men say it with flowers,” Isla says.
“We’re not most guys, baby,” Colton shoots back. “We carve it in blood or not at all.”
“That’s for damn sure,” I mumble.
Levi hears me and his lips twitch. “Flowers are bullshit anyway. They die.”
“It’s the gesture that counts,” Isla insists. “As long as it comes from the heart.”
“What heart?” Colton’s chuckle is light and playful, but tinged with something caustic as he knocks on his chest. “Nobody’s home.”
“That’s because you’re all eight different shades of psycho,” I say.
“Bet.” Colton winks at me. He checks his phone. “Lev and I have to cut the personal escort service short today, ladies.” Under his breath, he adds, “Which is it, Wren? Watch her or not? Can’t do both.”
They’re supposed to walk Isla and me to the library. Wren made them swear they’d be with me as he went over my schedule this morning.
It was an odd sight with his hair freshly showered, a half-eaten bowl of cereal forgotten at his elbow while he scrolled through the schedule on my phone and mapped out who would be with me while he took care of other matters he refused to elaborate on when I pried.
“We’re almost to the library. It’s fine,” I say. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me in the five hundred feet it’ll take to cross the lawn from here.”
Colton claps his hands once as we reach an intersection in the path. “Okay, Fox knows you’re coming. He’s inside now. You go straight there, got it?”
Once we part ways with the guys, Isla heaves a sigh, looping her arm into mine. We steer toward the lawn in front of the library.
“What’s up?” I bump her with my hip.
“Well, my dad has been so weird lately. I don’t know, he’s having all these late night meetings that stress him out. He’s been so tied up in it he hasn’t said anything to me about changing my schedule around to have more dance classes and dropping Econ even though I’ll need it as a prereq for the law school he wants me in after undergrad.”
“It’s not an election year.”
“No, that’s why it’s odd. And there’s something up with my driver. They had a meeting and in the last few days he’s been staring at me when I’m not looking.”
“Ew, creeper. Want me to ask the guys if they can find out anything about him?”
“Maybe. It’s just wigging me out and—”
At my sharp inhale, she cuts off. I squeeze her arm and freeze. The guy from the gala—the same one who followed me before—stands beneath the shaded stone arches outside the library entrance.
“Oh my god. It’s him again. Quick, come here.”
We duck behind a bush and watch him check his watch before he strides off at a clipped pace.
“He’s not here to follow you this time,” Isla says. “He’s headed for Withermore Hall.”
I purse my lips. “Let’s find out why he’s here.”
What I love about Isla is that she doesn’t balk or cower away from anything. She might dress in a delicate feminine style with her fashionable bl
ouses and heels, but beneath that she’s a brave fighter. When I told her over the weekend about what happened at the gala and the first time he stalked me, she was ready to send a minimum of three bodyguards from her family’s private security detail. She shares my determination to find out what this creep is doing on campus.
Wren might kill me for this, but there’s no time to waste. If I did tell him, he’d only forbid me from finding out more information. Tough shit. I’m not a sit back and wait for a man kind of girl.
Keeping our distance so we aren’t caught, we follow him. The students filtering in and out of rooms in Withermore provide cover while we track the guy. He stops by a stone bust of one of Thorne Point’s founders. Isla’s nails dig into my arm as she drags me behind a display case. Getting a good angle with my phone, I record a video of the scene.
My jaw drops open when a secret door opens to admit the man. Isla and I exchange a shocked look.
“That was medieval as fuck,” she whispers.
“I didn’t know the college had any hidden rooms or passages.”
“Me either. Who else do you think is in there?”
I bite my lip, thoughts churning. “No clue. But I want to see it.”
We wait a few minutes until the hall empties before inspecting the wall. Isla runs her fingers over the bust, mouth pulled to the side. I take photos of the wall from a few steps back and close up. Molded wood paneling runs the length of it and my pulse spikes when I get a closer look at the symbol engraved in it—a set of crossed keys.
Once again I wonder what the hell Ethan was working on. The need to know everything burns in me.
“Does it say who it is on the bust?”
“No. These old dudes all look the same to me, so I’m not sure who it is.” Isla waves a hand. “It just says some stuffy Latin about keys to the kingdom.”
“You know Latin?”
She shrugs. “Dad made me learn.”
I take another photo of the statue and the plaque. Placing a palm to the secret door, I think about how I can’t escape keys lately.
“We’ll have to come back later to figure out how to get in,” Isla says.
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