Violence (Antihero Inferno Book 3)

by Lily White

  “I’ll explain when we get there so I don’t have to repeat myself. Just drive like the wind.”

  Not that we have that far to go. Our neighborhoods are near each other.

  All of us are quiet on the drive over, but it’s Ezra’s silence that bothers me the most. His jaw is tense, and he keeps tapping his fingers on his leg.

  Several times I have to stop myself from asking what’s wrong, but I assume it’s the fact that our time together is about to end.

  You know what they say about making assumptions. I learn that fact very quickly after we reach Tanner’s and walk inside.

  If the scene wasn’t already tense enough with everything going on with Ivy and Gabe, it’s definitely not made better when Damon’s eyes meet mine, surprise widening them before he turns his head and narrows a pissed off glare on his brother.

  One second, Damon is on the couch, and the next he’s on Ezra, the crack of his fist snapping Ezra’s face to the side.

  All of the guys rush to break them up as Ivy and I step back, her face stunned while tears burst from my eyes.

  This is the last thing I wanted. For them to fight. For more violence to be brought into their lives because of me.

  This is exactly why I walked away and why I should never have accepted their present at the engagement party. We can’t be together without it coming to this.

  We can’t coexist when three hearts are involved.

  “I need to go,” I breathe out as I turn to head for the door.

  Ivy is fast on my heels, a hundred questions rolling off her tongue, but I don’t have it in me to answer.

  All I know is I can’t watch them fight.

  I can’t be the cause of it anymore.

  I refuse to be the cause of the bruises, the cuts, the scars on their skin, minds and hearts.

  When Ivy attempts to stop me at the door, I jerk my arm from her hand. “That’s my fault,” I explain on a rush of breath. “I need to leave.”

  She nods her head, and I run off.

  My time with Ezra - with both of the twins - is finally over.

  It’s too bad leaving them is never peaceful.

  Not when I did it in high school and not now.

  Ezra

  I should have seen that coming, should have known Damon would make good on his promise to fight me.

  He didn’t even give me a chance to explain, just stormed forward and clocked me before I could react.

  Not that I can blame him.

  I would have done the same.

  Unfortunately, it only drew attention to our problem. Tanner and the rest of the guys spent the next few hours eyeing us warily, the gears spinning in Tanner’s head as he put two and two together.

  Thankfully, this shit with Ivy was enough of a distraction, and I sat watching them go through the documents she brought to the house while also wondering how the hell I would get her alone.

  I needed to talk to her, so when the issue came up about where she would stay to hide from her dad, I was quick to offer my place.

  Yes, it was to help her, but mostly to help myself.

  I know I promised Emily I’d let her go, that I’d honor the deal of only one day longer, but now that the clock has run out, I can’t do what I said.

  Not that I’ll feel bad about breaking the promise. That seems to be a running theme between us.

  Needless to say, I was able to get Ivy alone and also convince her to help me with Emily. It’s how I ended up driving down the road with three caged chickens and a garbage bag full of feathers in the back of my Jeep.

  “Why are we doing the chicken thing again?”

  Ivy rolls her head over the back of her seat to look at me.

  “Tanner suggested it since he thinks this is a good way to prank Gabe.”

  Nodding my head at that, I laugh to remember the time in high school she set over fifty loose in Gabe’s house. We spent hours chasing them.

  “So what’s the plan once we get to his place?”

  Shrugging a shoulder, she grins.

  “Tanner said he’ll make Gabe drop his car off at the house so that they drive to my dad’s in Tanner’s car. That way he can make sure Gabe goes straight home from there.”

  “I’m shocked he’s helping you.”

  She laughs.

  “I think he just wants to see the look on Gabe’s face. That and get back at him for the other pranks.”

  Makes sense. If pranks are happening, it’s better to be on Ivy’s side than against her.

  Silence falls between us, my thoughts rolling over the problem with Emily and everything else that’s gone down. I’m also a little worried that Ivy and Gabe won’t be able to work things out, but mostly I’m concerned she’ll reveal too much.

  Breaking the silence, I nudge her with my elbow and ask, “Why did you tell him the truth?”

  “About knowing he was setting me up in high school to burn down the pavilion?”

  The last few weeks of our senior year were like a powder keg. Emily with us, and Ivy with Gabe.

  Everything was blowing up around the same time, and while I was doing my best not to fall in love, Gabe was doing his best to trap Ivy into asking a favor of the Inferno.

  He did a damn good job of it, the rumors he spread cornering Ivy into having no choice but to accept the challenge of burning down her father’s pavilion.

  Around the same time, however, Damon and I got into a fight in defense of Emily. Seeing it was enough to back her off from us. She hated it when we fought, hated the constant threat of violence. She couldn’t stand the bruises or the cuts. And it angered her to see us add more by immediately jumping to fists whenever someone insulted or threatened her at school.

  Two days passed where she wouldn’t talk to us after that fight. And I wasn’t happy about it.

  So I went behind Gabe’s back.

  “Yes, about that. I’m still in shock you actually went through with it.”

  She grins.

  “I went through with it to trap him back. I think we both know none of you ever do a person a favor and walk away.”

  Ivy’s right about that.

  “But I was done with the games,” she adds. “The lying. All of it. So I told him the truth. I knew and did it anyway.”

  “Why?”

  She sighs and gives me a look.

  “Because I love him. I think that’s always been obvious.”

  Laughter bubbles up my throat. “I can respect that.” Pausing for only a second, I take a breath. “But did you tell him the full truth?”

  Grin stretching wider, she shoves a piece of hair out of her face.

  “If you’re worried I admitted you’re the one who told me he was setting me up, then no. Your secret is safe with me.”

  And there it is. The truth of Ivy and me. In high school, I tipped her off to what Gabe was doing so she would convince Emily to give us another chance. Both of us managed to keep that secret since the deal happened, and I’m happy to hear it will stay that way.

  I also find it convenient that she’s around for another deal right when we both need it.

  “So what’s the plan with Emily? What should I do?”

  Ivy glances at me, the sweet smile on her face a little disturbing. With her, it means evil.

  “You’re going to romance the shit out of her. All the way, too. I know her favorite restaurant, and you’re going to have candles and wine and music.”

  Cocking a brow at that, I’m not so sure it will work.

  “That fixes none of our problems, though. Damon will still be angry and hurt. She’ll still be engaged to Mason-“

  “Those are details to be worried about later,” she says, brushing it off with a wiggle of her fingers. “The point is Emily loves you. You know it. I know it. Emily knows it. So you need to make a grand gesture, and apologize,” she says, eyeing me, “for being such a jerk lately.”

  “I already did that.”

  “Do it again. In fact, do it a hundred times. On your
knees.”

  I roll my eyes, and she laughs.

  “Yes, I know. It’s hard for the big, macho stubborn guy to admit when he’s wrong. But I know Emily. She won’t give you another chance if you don’t face what you’ve done.”

  We pull up to Gabe’s house, and I hide the Jeep in back.

  Twisting in my seat to look at Ivy, I ignore the clucking chickens and admit what worries me.

  “I feel like I’ve run out of chances with her. That the fight with Damon was the final straw.”

  Sympathy floods Ivy’s expression.

  “She loves you.”

  “So?”

  “So that’s all that matters. But you need to take a damn good look at the entire picture and figure out what went wrong. A lot of this is on you. The stuff with Damon and Mason is an issue, but not what ran her off.”

  “She doesn’t want to hurt Damon-“

  “Okay fine, that’s a bigger issue, but it’s not insurmountable. Maybe you should talk to Damon and make him understand that this is just how it turned out. If he loves her, he’ll want her to be happy. And if you make her happy, he won’t get in the way of that.”

  She’s right, but, “I’m not good at talking. I’m much more of the type to just beat him down and tell him to accept it.”

  “And look how far that’s gotten you.”

  Fucking hell.

  “Sorry, Ezra. But violence isn’t always the answer. I suggest you take a look in the mirror, and figure out how to fix this without it. And the first thing you need to fix is you.”

  She hops out of the Jeep before I can argue. Hefting the bag of feathers up over a shoulder, she angles her chin at the cages.

  “Bring the chickens. We need to get this set up before they get back.”

  Huffing out a breath, I climb out and grab the first cage.

  How the hell will a grand gesture fix anything?

  And even more troubling than that, how will I figure out how to fix myself?

  Emily

  “Please, Em? Gabe’s being a major dick, and I need girl chat. So I’m going to need you to dry your tears and meet me for lunch today. I even made a reservation at your favorite restaurant.”

  Rolling my eyes at that, I look at the snack wrappers and empty ice cream cartons piling up in my small wastebasket.

  I won’t lie. I’ve been hiding out in my room for the past week, alternating between sleeping, crying, screaming into my pillow and eating.

  Every so often I scroll through social media or watch videos online, but for the most part, I’ve been having a pity-party bender for one, barely leaving my room or talking to anybody.

  Ivy has stopped by a few times in an attempt to make me open up about everything, but I refused.

  Each time, she’d given up and laid down next to me, silently being there as much as she could.

  I’m broken.

  Much like I was after high school, but this time there’s no ringing phone I can’t answer. And while that should make things easier, it doesn’t.

  What’s worse is that Ezra’s bike was in my driveway for two days because he left it behind when we drove to rescue Ivy. I didn’t break down entirely until the day I walked outside to find it gone.

  He never came to the door to say anything. He simply picked it up and left without a word.

  I should be happy about that, should appreciate him giving me that space. But seeing the bike gone knocked my legs out from under me, the pain lancing my body like a spear, the truth finally sinking in that this is over.

  My heart and my brain are at war now, my brain saying this is what has to happen, and my heart screaming for me not to let him go. Despite the screaming, and regardless of the pain, my brain has to win in the end.

  Logically, there are no solutions to our problems. I know that.

  I know that.

  But my heart doesn’t - or at least it won’t accept it.

  That’s when I surrendered myself to my room and haven’t emerged since. Well, except to get more food, apparently, as is obvious by the trash.

  Fuck...

  This is pathetic.

  “Fine. I’ll meet you. What time?”

  “How about two? I rented an entire room so you don’t have to worry about puffy eyes and looking fabulous.”

  Laughing, I grumble, “Thanks for that.”

  “I’m just looking out for my bestie,” she says, but there’s something in her voice that sounds more serious than simply keeping me out of sight to protect my vanity. “Okay, well, I’ll see you there. Don’t be late.”

  She hangs up before I can ask any questions. Looking at the clock, I realize she also left me with exactly one hour to get to the restaurant.

  It’s a given the old yoga pants and stretched out t-shirt I’m wearing won’t work for going out, so I spend a half hour getting showered and dressed, my shoes in my hand as I’m running out of the house barefoot.

  Running past Dylan’s room, I notice he’s sitting on his bed with his headphones on, the house oddly silent now that I’m paying attention. He hasn’t had any parties in the past week either, which is nuts.

  I’m torn between stopping to talk to him and leaving, something nagging at me about his sudden change in behavior.

  Unfortunately, I’m already running late, so I decide to approach him when I get home.

  The drive over is hectic with traffic so heavy. It’s stop and go most of the way, my nerves rubbed raw because I didn’t want to come out in the first place, but it certainly doesn’t help when some asshole slams into the back of my car as I’m coming up on a corner.

  Several deep breaths and I throw my car in park, throw open the door and step out to see a pretty blond woman running up to me.

  She’s probably my age, close by a few years, at least, her eyes panicked and her mouth falling open on a quick apology.

  “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?

  I blink at her before turning to survey the damage to my car. Thankfully, there’s nothing more than a small dent.

  “I’m fine,” I finally answer, “but I don’t have time to call the cops for an accident report.”

  Her eyes widen.

  “Actually, that’s perfect. I mean, not perfect. It’s just that I’m in a rush. Can we exchange information and leave it at that?”

  I really should wait for the police, but she seems trustworthy. She also appears scared, her shoulders tense and eyes scanning the distance before they move back to me.

  Not that it means anything, but she’s a beautiful girl with big, blue eyes. She’s dressed really well and has curves for days. I glance up at her car and notice it’s a newer model Mercedes. She doesn’t seem the type to screw me over.

  “Yeah, that will work, I guess.”

  “Oh! Thank you. Seriously, you’re saving my life. You have no idea. Let me go write it down for you.”

  She runs back to her car while I go back to mine to write out my name and insurance info. I’m just finishing up when she steps up to my open door and hands me a white sheet of paper.

  “That’s everything you’ll need. Again, I’m so sorry.”

  Thankfully, the damage isn’t bad.

  “It happens,” I say, handing her my information.

  “You’re a life saver,” she says again before running back to her car and taking off on a squeal of tires around me.

  Obviously, she really was in a hurry, I think as I glance down at her name. My brows tug together, something familiar about it.

  Everly Clayborn.

  Before I can remember where I’ve heard the name, a horn honks behind me, urging me to move. I wave a hand, shut my door and take the turn.

  I’m at the restaurant five minutes later, which only makes me fifteen minutes late.

  Running up to the hostess stand, I quickly rattle off Ivy’s name, and I’m directed to a private room in back.

  Laughter rolls over my lips. She really did get us a private space.

  How she afforded it while cut of
f from her dad’s accounts is a mystery. Knowing her, she probably stole Gabe’s credit card.

  Soft music filters out when I open the door, my eyes immediately locking on a tall man with dark hair and amber eyes, a person who neither belongs in this setting, nor in my life.

  Ezra is only a few steps from me, as if he’d been heading to leave, his suit jacket clutched in one hand, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up his forearms.

  Beyond him, a string quartet plays while candles flicker, red roses adorning white tablecloths. Waiters stand in the distance, ready and waiting to serve the meal.

  It takes me a moment to push past my shock, to turn my gaze back to Ezra where he stands nervous and flustered, his eyes scanning the room much like mine.

  “What is this?”

  He’s beautiful in a suit, but even the pressed shirt and dark grey slacks are helpless to disguise the raw strength of his body, or the feral spirit of a man who is more comfortable fighting than talking.

  Ezra looks back at the room, tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

  “Ivy suggested it,” he admits on a rushed breath, like he’s too embarrassed to say that much, “but I’m not sure I’m feeling it anymore.”

  Oh, Ezra...

  I look at him, and I know only hunger, feel only the deepest craving. My fingers curl with the need to touch him, my head foggy, my body heavy. It’s pure need when I look at him. When I’m near him. When the brush of his cold fury becomes a heart-stopping control in bed.

  Ezra, in so many ways, is a walking cruelty.

  He is the only person I want, yet the only person I can never have.

  He tortures me, this man.

  And I haunt him.

  Beyond that is the merciless impact we have on each other’s hearts. The only question now is whose will is stronger? That of a man who embodies violence, or mine?

  I’d like to think it’s mine.

  “Suggested it for what? I thought I was meeting Ivy here.”

  I’ll kill her for this. For not only putting me in a position where I have to reject Ezra again, but also in one where another scar is carved into my heart.

  How many times do I have to let go before it’s the final time? How many times do I have to retreat to my room to grieve?