Violence (Antihero Inferno Book 3)

by Lily White

  I can’t drag my eyes away from Emily, though. Even as she’s devoured by the group of women surrounding her, their excited congratulations no doubt scraping against every last nerve she has.

  “Did you find anything?”

  It takes effort to drag my gaze away from her to look at Jase.

  “Nothing. Most of the desk drawers were locked, and he kept the surface of the desk clean.”

  Jase smirks. “Tanner and Gabe won’t be happy about that.”

  “Tanner and Gabe can fuck off,” I grumble. “Ivy and her dad are Gabe’s problem. We all have our marching orders.”

  Mine had been to distract Emily and find a way into the Governor’s office. Gabe should be happy I’d managed to accomplish both.

  I glance around to notice only Damon and Taylor are still standing near us. “Where did Shane and Sawyer go?”

  “Shane said he had to take care of another problem. He also said you’d know what that meant.”

  My lips quirk at that. Somebody’s night is about to get a hell of a lot worse if Shane is on the hunt.

  “Want to fill me in on what they’re doing?”

  “Not really. That information is slightly above your pay grade.”

  He laughs. “Asshole.”

  After finishing a conversation with Gabe, Mason walks over to us, but I’m less interested in what he has to say than I am what Emily is doing slapping her hand against Gabe’s chest in the distance, her blue eyes narrowed on his face as she talks.

  Every instinct in me is screaming to march over there and drag her away from him, but judging by Gabriel’s posture and the way his head turns to follow where Ivy is going, I know Emily is simply a momentary distraction he’ll sidestep as soon as he can.

  Looking away from them, I lock eyes with Mason. The poor bastard looks like he’s been wrung through the wringer a few times, tension obvious in his jaw and razor sharp over the thin line of his lips.

  “I need a drink,” he gripes. “Don’t care where. Don’t care with who. But it needs to happen soon before I lose my shit.”

  Cocking a brow at that, I watch him waver on his feet.

  “Didn’t you just finish taking out a bottle? You might be good for the night.”

  Jase must notice how Mason is unbalanced on his feet as well. He steps close enough to pin his shoulder against Mason’s to keep him from falling.

  “This about Emily?” Jase asks, “or Ava?”

  “Ava,” Mason growls in response. “She knew this shit would happen. I fucking warned her. She still hasn’t answered her damn phone. All she did is send a bullshit text telling me she’d talk to me tomorrow.”

  I’m not exactly in the mood to hang out with anyone, but Mason can’t be left alone. He’ll end up at Ava’s banging down her damn door if left unattended.

  “We’ll leave soon.”

  The words are barely out of my mouth before Mason’s eyes cut past my shoulder and narrow, his body lunging forward on an unsteady gait.

  I turn as he passes me, my fucking stomach tightening with rage as soon as I see who he raced forward to intercept.

  Teeth slamming together at the sight of my father, I glance behind me at Damon, Jase’s hand landing on my shoulder at the same time.

  “I’ve got him. Go deal with that shit before Mason starts something.”

  Jase heads Damon’s direction while I walk forward to grab Mason and pull him away from my father.

  Mason attempts to tug out of my hold, but grits his teeth and glances at me when he remembers just who he’s dealing with.

  “I’ll take care of this. Go help Jase out with Damon.”

  It’s not that this asshole who raised Damon and me affects me less than it does Damon, it’s simply that I have better control over how I handle him. Damon’s rage runs far deeper, and I don’t trust him not to act on it in front of everybody here.

  “Do you need something, William?”

  Anger bleeds into his expression to be called by his first name. I don’t give a fuck about the lack of respect it shows. I’d intended it.

  Although we haven’t heard from this jackass since the last time he dragged us off for a weekend when we were still at Yale, he still attempts to make himself known at social functions we attend.

  “Just wanted to see how my sons are doing.”

  He eyes flick to Damon and back to me.

  “Looks like both of you are going soft.”

  Chuckling at that, I resist the urge to remind him of exactly what his bullshit created.

  I nudge my chin in the direction of Warbucks and Daddy Dearest.

  “You might want to return to your friends. Damon and I have nothing to say to you.”

  When he attempts to step around me, I move with him, intentionally closing the space between us to remind him that his sons grew up to be bigger than him.

  Time is weakening this motherfucker, but it’s making his boys a hell of a lot stronger.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I’m a little surprised he’s even attempting this shit, but when I smell the alcohol rolling off his breath, I understand why he thought he stood a chance of getting close.

  His stare holds mine, and I don’t miss the tension over his shoulders.

  Stretching my hands out, I resist the urge to react any more than that to the quiet threat of his stare.

  “Tell your brother I’ll be in touch,” he says.

  I don’t respond. He wants a reaction, and I’m not willing to give it to him. I can’t say the same would be the case with Damon. He has yet to learn to control his temper.

  After watching him stroll back to where the rest of our fathers are gathered, the muscles in my shoulders relax only slightly. Memories threaten to invade my thoughts, images I’ll never be able to escape.

  My jaw tics once as I turn to walk back to where Mason and the guys wait, but a pair of turquoise eyes catch my attention, Emily’s stare locked on me.

  She casts a quick glance at my father and back to me, and even from this distance, I can see the suspicion swirling behind those eyes and the first spark of her fire.

  Fuck...

  There’s nothing I can do but ignore it. If I give even the slightest indication that my father was responsible for the bruises she used to hate, nobody will be able to stop that woman from confronting him.

  I have no doubt Emily would find ways to smash down brick walls to get to the man who caused them.

  And knowing that doesn’t make the way I feel about her any easier. If anything, it’s exactly why I still haven’t been able to let her go.

  “What did that fat fuck want?”

  Mason’s stare locks to mine, but rather than answering him, I study my brother.

  To everybody else, it looks like Damon is handling this well, but I know him better than that.

  Memories crash through his head as violently as mine, the voices and images of forced betrayal that is chained to us with hooks through our skin.

  “We should go get those drinks,” I say instead of answering Mason. “But let’s go to one of our houses instead of out to a bar. I don’t think any of us are in a mood to be trusted.”

  Jase laughs at that.

  “Not sure about you sorry assholes, but I’m all good.”

  I cut him a look and he shrugs. “What? It seems like I’m the only one without a problem tonight.”

  “Should I bring up Everly?” I ask.

  The smile on his face vanishes. “Fuck you.”

  Laughing at that, I tilt my head toward the mansion. “You all should go wait by the limos. I’ll see if I can find Gabriel and Sawyer to let them know we’re leaving.”

  “What about Shane?” Mason asks.

  My lips curl knowing what that bastard is up to.

  “He’ll find his own way home.”

  They take off, and I spin a slow circle in place looking for the other two.

  When I spot Gabe, he’s already heading in the group’s direction to walk
up front with them. But there’s no sign of Sawyer.

  I pull out my phone and send him a quick text, a response coming through almost immediately to tell me he’ll meet us up front.

  With that problem solved, I run a hand through my hair and head toward the house. I’m walking around the side of the grand staircase when my jacket is grabbed and I’m tugged aside. Not far because the person yanking on me is half my size.

  Smirking down at Emily, I silently follow her into a small hallway much like the one I’d dragged her into earlier.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and stares up at me, concern bleeding through her expression.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She gets that look on her face that’s always amused me, the one that calls me out on my bullshit without the need for her saying the first word.

  Apparently, she can read me, too.

  “You had that look on your face. The one I know so damn well. The same one you always had when you came back from those fucked-up weekends.”

  Rolling my lips to keep from grinning at the snap in her voice, I straighten my shoulders and cross my arms to mirror her posture.

  “I’m not sure that’s any of your business anymore. Not when you ghosted me as soon as I left for college.”

  Fire rolls behind that blue-green glare, and it takes a serious amount of self-control to keep from pulling her close so I can remind her exactly what it does to me.

  We stare at each other for what feels like hours before she remembers just how to drop me to my damn knees.

  Reaching up, she holds her hand in place, an invitation for me to lower my head and accept the touch.

  How many times did she do this in high school?

  Emily always demanded to know what was happening to us, and when I refused to tell her, she lifted her hand to cup my cheek, a silent promise that she stood beside me.

  She was only there for three of those weekends, but she might as well have been there for all of them. That’s how deep she’d carved her name into our hearts. That’s how badly we needed her.

  Biting the inside of my cheek, I refuse to give her what she wants. I wrap my fingers around her delicate wrist instead and lower her hand between us.

  “Not anymore, killer. You lost that right when you walked away without telling me why. You broke the promise. Not me.”

  Tears shimmer in her eyes, not enough to fall, but enough for me to know I still matter to her.

  If I stand here any longer, I’ll lose the ability to walk away.

  Without saying another word, I turn to stalk out of the hall, her voice stopping me in place.

  “I’ll answer this time. That is, if you actually call me.”

  She has no idea how many hours my thumb must have hovered over her name on my phone, how much of a fight it was not to press it.

  I don’t answer, just walk off with a heavy weight on my shoulders, and one fucking memory in my head that is screaming louder than all the others.

  She did this.

  Not me.

  It just sucks that both of us have to suffer for it.

  Emily

  Ezra has nightmares.

  I guess the full truth is that both of them do, but Ezra’s are far more violent. He doesn’t like to acknowledge them, or anything even close to admitting they happen, but they do.

  I’ve seen them.

  Not often because we’ve only spent the night in the same room twice in our lives.

  Both times, I woke up to watch him struggling against something only he could see, whatever nightmares he battled still hidden despite the fact I was sitting right there to watch them happen.

  I can’t put into words how frustrating that is, can’t even pretend to accurately describe the helplessness of knowing somebody I cared about was being hurt and there wasn’t a goddamned thing I could do to help him.

  So I did the only thing I could both those times. I placed my palm against his cheek the same way I always did when he returned to school after those weekends.

  Even unconscious, he accepted that touch, his large body going still as his lungs drew in a breath that was deep and strong, a breath that helped me breathe right along with him.

  I never told him what I saw those two nights. Not that there was much to tell. He didn’t talk in his sleep or do anything that clued me in as to what was going on.

  But I was desperate enough to go to Mason about it. Not that I felt entirely comfortable approaching Mason about anything.

  We didn’t like each other, and given the way he stared at me whenever he saw me with the twins, I knew something was pissing him off. But he was the only member of the Inferno I had anything to do with, so he was the best choice.

  The conversation was pleasant at first, our first real truce for all of fifteen minutes when he explained even the group had no idea.

  Unfortunately, it went downhill from there, and I walked away with a warning that if I cause problems with the twins, there would be hell to pay for it.

  As it turned out, I did cause problems.

  I just haven’t yet paid the price.

  Which is why I shouldn’t have accepted the twins’ present at the engagement party, and also why I’ve been hiding in my house for two days since.

  I’ve never asked a damn thing from the Inferno, but that doesn’t mean I don’t owe them.

  A night that left me scarred, both physically and emotionally, was also a night that put me on the Inferno shit-list, a sad truth I’ve kept to myself.

  Not even Ivy or Ava know the full story of what happened. And maybe if I hide for the rest of my life, I can keep it that way.

  I betrayed the twins.

  I broke a promise before they left for college.

  I was the reason they went to jail that night.

  And the entire Inferno knows it.

  It’s too bad my traveling days are over now that I’m engaged. It would be nice to hide out in Germany or Italy, Greece or even Romania, if it meant I’d be as far away from this mess as possible.

  “Not anymore, killer...You broke the promise. Not me.”

  It sounded like an innocent comment, didn’t it?

  Something as simple as me not picking up a phone.

  Except there was a warning in those words that stretched back ten years, and you would have to know what the promise was to understand what he meant.

  To put it mildly, I’m fucked.

  I know it.

  The Inferno knows it.

  The only people who don’t know it are my closest friends. And I have to keep it that way if I have any hope of protecting them from the fallout.

  No matter how bad things get, I have to keep my mouth shut. It shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve had a lifetime of practice pretending to be perfectly happy in a life where I’m trapped.

  We need to talk...

  Those are never good words to hear, no matter where they’re coming from.

  I certainly hadn’t expected them.

  Almost ignoring the text, I’d stared at my phone for twenty minutes, tapping my nails against the plastic before I finally shot off an answer agreeing to that conversation.

  It’s been two hours since, and when someone knocks on my door with a quick three taps, I close my eyes and prepare myself for what’s coming.

  Pushing to my feet, I cross the room on silent steps, a shaky breath leaking out of me as I grip the handle and twist.

  Surprise stills me in place to look up and meet a pair of amber eyes staring down at me, Damon’s crooked smile knocking me off balance.

  “Hey, Red.”

  With one arm braced against the doorframe, Damon reaches out to tip his finger beneath my chin and close my mouth.

  Amusement dances behind his eyes because it’s obvious I didn’t realize my jaw had dropped to see him.

  “Not expecting me, I take it?”

  I shake my head, both in answer and to rid myself of the surprise.

  �
��No. Sorry. How did you get in here? Does Ezra-“

  “He doesn’t know I’m here, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Blinking once at that, I ask, “Okay. But how did you get in?”

  “Your brother.”

  Ugh.

  Fucking Dylan.

  He’s been the biggest asshole to me in the past few weeks.

  I was hoping once he got his new car, he’d be out and about with little time at home, but it hasn’t happened.

  Every night, he has friends over, a damn party in the common rooms and halls that I have to avoid.

  When I don’t say anything, Damon grins.

  “Are you going to let me in, or are we going to stand here staring at each other?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I open my door wider and step back. “Sorry.”

  He chuckles and walks past me, my head craning up because I always forget how big the twins are until I’m standing next to them.

  They were tall in high school, but now that they’ve grown into those frames, they practically swallow the space around them.

  My room feels tiny with him standing in it, and when he drops his weight on my bed, he makes that tiny, too.

  Propping his body up against my pillows, he tucks an arm behind his head and stares over at me. I’m still standing near the door, attempting to swallow down a lump in my throat.

  Dread lines my spine as I close the door and walk over to sit on the side of the bed.

  I should have known better than to get close to him. For as big as he is, Damon’s also fast.

  He lunges forward and wraps an arm around my waist, giving me enough time to squeak before I’m laid flat over the bed and he’s on top of me.

  Both his forearms are braced on either side of my head, those gorgeous eyes of his sparkling with humor. I’d be crushed if he wasn’t supporting his weight, but his lower body pins mine in place, his heat sinking through my clothes to caress my skin.

  “How have you been?”

  Something many people wouldn’t guess about Damon is that he’s insanely playful. Yes, he has a temper to rival even the worst hothead, but when he’s not angry about something, he’s laid back. Funny, even. Not as serious about things as his brother.