by Eva Ashwood
“I—I won’t,” I said, turning back to him as the crowd around us began to disperse.
It was a lie, and I was sure he knew it. My actions hadn’t even been a conscious choice at the time. They’d been born of nothing but a desperate impulse to keep Kace from letting the rage inside his heart destroy him.
Regular conversation slowly resumed around us, and Bishop and Misael led me to a table. They sat close to me, one on either side, nudging me to take bites of my food every now and then as I pushed it around on my plate.
Kace’s fight was the talk of the school for the rest of the day, though I didn’t see him in the halls after. It worried me—a worry that was only eased when I made my way to Bishop’s car after school. The broad-shouldered blond boy leaned against it, idly digging the toe of his shoe into the gravel of Slateview’s shoddy parking lot. When I approached, he looked up, and his light green eyes were clearer than they had been at lunch.
Misael and Bish were already in the car, and as I stepped up to Kace, I reached out and brushed my fingers down the back of his hand, briefly tangling them with his. I saw his whole body tense, then his hand gave a small squeeze back.
“You okay?” I asked softly.
“Yeah.”
I almost believed him. He was better than he had been at lunch, but “okay”? Definitely not. He was more in control, his emotions more contained again.
But he was stressed. We all were.
We probably would be for a while, until we were certain where this path was going to take us.
The one person who didn’t seem stressed was Mom, ironically.
Music played through the house as I stepped inside after the boys dropped me off, loud and echoing off the walls. She was singing.
“You’re home, Cordelia,” she said, humming as she… cleaned?
Confusion pulsed through me even more strongly than the beat of the music she played while she moved about, sweeping and dusting, of all things. I had never seen my mom clean anything in my life.
I set my school bag down on the table, blinking at her slowly.
“Yeah… what are you doing?”
“Oh, you know. Just getting the place tidy.” She waved her hand. “A good mood will do that to you, Cordelia.”
I had no idea where this new attitude came from. First, the car, now she was singing and cleaning?
Better than being depressed and ODing on sleeping pills, I guess.
I couldn’t begrudge mom her good mood. I had wanted her to try to find the good in this new life we’d been thrust into, to look on the positive side and take control of her life again—and now she had. It wasn’t her fault I couldn’t share the good mood with her, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about what’d happened with Flint.
There was so much about my life she didn’t know these days. She didn’t know I was falling in love with three beautiful, dangerous, wild boys. She didn’t know I had almost lost my life last night.
And she could never find out.
As much as I loved my mother, I couldn’t trust her not to turn the Lost Boys in if she got even the slightest hint of what’d happened. She’d made her dislike of Bishop quite apparent, being rude and cold to him when he’d come to the house—and that was when she knew nothing about him. I was sure anything I might tell her now would only solidify her opinion of him as “trash.”
So I didn’t say anything. I didn’t question her good mood. I put a smile on my face, trying to make it appear as authentic as possible.
“Hey, how about I help you?”
She smiled at me, seeming thrilled at the idea. “Of course, sweetheart. That would be wonderful.”
No. It won’t be.
That thought made my smile flicker, almost extinguishing it entirely.
It wasn’t what I wanted, and the realization that what I wanted—what I needed—right now was a mom that I could turn to for help and support, stung me. Even if I could tell her about everything without risking the boys’ safety… I wouldn’t. I had never even spoken to her about the innocent crushes I’d had on boys in middle school. There was no way I could tell her about the feelings growing inside my heart now.
She knew so little about me, and I so little about her, that even something as simple as helping her clean the small house we shared felt hollow.
Because it was a lie.
All of it.
Four
“Hey.” Jessica threw a small, wadded up piece of paper at me. “Has Mr. Tyson seemed weird to you guys lately?”
I sat on her floor, textbook on her coffee table, notebook and pen out, taking notes and answering some study questions for an upcoming quiz for history. My mind went to the last time the history teacher had spoken to me directly.
I shook my head.
“No weirder than usual for a teacher at Slateview, really,” I said with a shrug.
We were studying as early afternoon sunlight cut through the streaked windows. Jessica’s mom was pulling a double at the diner she worked at, since Sunday was their busiest day.
Jessica and Liam kept up good grades, working their asses off, which had surprised me at first, although it shouldn’t have, honestly. Nothing was ever as it seemed. And although I had found the classes at Slateview pretty easy compared to the curriculum at Highland Park Academy, I’d let my grades slip a bit as I had gotten distracted by other things.
So the study sessions were a welcome chance to focus back on school.
She’d invited the boys over too, and they were sprawled around the small room, quiet and mulling over their own work—though whether that was because they were actually interested, or because it was better than entertaining other, more tumultuous thoughts, I wasn’t sure. In Misael’s case, he wasn’t even doing homework. He was just doodling in his notebook.
Still, it was the most normal things had been for any of us all week.
Jessica laughed, pulling my attention back to her. “Fair. He’s just been… I dunno… hovering more than usual.”
Again, I thought about my conversation with him when he’d asked me to hang back after class that day. The advice he’d given me to stay away from the Lost Boys.
Does he know…?
I shook the thought from my mind. If Mr. Tyson knew anything about anything, we’d definitely know about it, wouldn’t we? And if he knew that the Lost Boys worked for Nathaniel Ward, he would’ve reported that long ago.
“Hey, can you help me with this question?” Jessica asked, scooting off the couch to sit beside me on the floor.
“Sure, what is it?”
I leaned closer, peering over her shoulder at the calculus equation she was trying to solve. I was grateful for the distraction, and only too happy to let the subject of Mr. Tyson drop. I didn’t know what his deal was, although after our conversation, I’d sort of gotten the impression that he saw himself as one of those teachers who could save his students from themselves if he just tried hard enough.
That was all well and good, and admirable in its own way. But I worried about what he might consider “saving.” If he found out about the Lost Boys and turned them in, he might tell himself it was something he did for their own good. I would have to make it a point to be extra careful what I said around him going forward, and to make sure I kept up the pretense that everything was normal.
As I finished helping Jessica work through the equation, Bishop’s phone rang, making me jump. His brows furrowed as he answered, but his voice was steady.
“Hey, Nathaniel.”
The world seemed to freeze.
I sucked in a breath and hid it behind a well-placed cough. Bishop stood, going to a different room—not that he needed to hide who he was talking to. Jessica and Liam both knew about the boys’ arrangement with Nathaniel.
Kace and Misael maintained their casual, relaxed poses, and I drew in a slow breath, struggling to do the same. Their two friends knew about Nathaniel, but they didn’t know about Flint or how he’d died, and it would be better fo
r everyone if they never found out.
Trying to act like nothing was amiss, I tilted my head slightly, straining to pick up Bishop’s voice in the other room. I could barely hear him—just enough to know he was speaking, but not enough to know exactly what he was saying. My nerves spiked even higher when Bish raised his voice to call Misael and Kace into the other room with him.
They emerged a few moments later, their expressions frustratingly blank.
“Gotta meet up with Nathaniel to discuss some work,” Bish said as Jessica and Liam looked up.
A strange, almost giddy sensation flooded my body, a combination of adrenaline and fear. I was terrified of what Nathaniel might say, what he might know—but at the same time, the anticipation had been killing me. At least now we’d find out.
I closed my history textbook and started pushing to my feet, but a low noise from Kace stopped me.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Bishop asked.
Glancing up at the three of them, I blinked in confusion. “I’m coming with you, aren’t I?”
It seemed so obvious. It felt so obvious. If they were being called over by Nathaniel of all people, then…
But I couldn’t voice that. Not in front of Liam and Jessica. The boys would understand why I wanted to go with them so badly though, and I stared Bishop straight in the eye, hoping he would cave.
It was a stupid choice. I should’ve picked Misael.
Although, judging by the look on Misael’s face, this would’ve been one time that the soulful, caramel-skinned boy would’ve denied me what I asked for. All three of the Lost Boys were a united front as Bish shook his head.
“Nah. Not this time, Princess. Work is work.”
I wanted to protest, but Jessica tugged me back down to sit with her.
“More time for us girls to bond then,” she said with a wink. “Liam has to leave soon too. Let the boys go off and play rough and tough. We’ll have more fun than them anyway.”
A small laugh huffed out of me. Something about Jessica was so disarming… even with my stomach in knots like it was. I looked to Bishop, who gave me a nod before he, Misael, and Kace headed out.
I wished they had all kissed me, but a part of me was glad they hadn’t. It would’ve felt too much like a goodbye, and I couldn’t stand to even think of that possibility.
Sighing, I sat down. Jessica, Liam and I went back to our homework, but concentration became harder than ever. I couldn’t stop thinking about the boys, couldn’t stop wondering and worrying and playing out dozens of scenarios in my mind. I was still staring at the same damn sentence when Liam stood to leave ten minutes later.
Jessica walked him to the door, and I tuned out the sounds of their heavy make-out session, threading my fingers through the roots of my blond hair as I rested my elbows on the coffee table, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth.
“You got something on your mind?” Jessica asked when she returned a few minutes later, her cheeks slightly flushed. She rested a hand on her hip as she stared down at me, her eyes narrowing.
I shook my head, forcing a smile to my face. Then I sat back from my open textbook, stretching my arms over my head.
“Just not really in the studying mood, I guess.”
Jessica laughed, tossing her dark hair over one shoulder. “Ugh. Tell me about it. My brain is on the verge of turning into mush.”
She settled back on the couch behind, and we were quiet for a moment before she poked me with her toe.
“Tell me about being rich.”
That surprised me enough to drag me out of my worried thoughts, and I turned toward her, raising my brows. “What?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been curious ever since you came to Slateview, but there’s never been a good time to ask you about it—and I mean, part of me wondered if it was rude, but whatever, we’re friends now. So if I piss you off or whatever, you can just tell me.”
I looked to her, head tilted. I couldn’t tell if she was asking because she actually wanted to know, or if she was making fun of me. Pretty much everyone at Slateview hated me for who my family was—or who we’d been anyway.
She grinned at me. “Well?”
She looked genuinely interested. Or maybe she could just tell something was wrong with me, and she was trying to distract me. Honestly, I didn’t care what the reason was, I was just glad to have a distraction, period. I certainly needed it, given the fact that I was pretty sure the guys would be gone for a while.
And until they came back, the knot of worry in my stomach wouldn’t unclench.
“Okay. What do you want to know?”
The question opened up a floodgate. Jessica, it turned out, was actually very, very curious about what my life as a “rich girl” had entailed. I told her about the parties—and then described about twenty different types of appetizers served, along with how my mother would make sure there were proper wines and champagnes to complement every single one served. I told her about our house, with its grand ballroom and sweeping staircases to the indoor, heated pool in the back. I told her about my old classmates—people I’d thought were my friends, although they hadn’t spoken to me in months and probably never would again—and I told her about Ava, who I still missed dearly.
“You know, I used to think it was all… perfect and wonderful,” I confessed. “But now I wonder how much of it actually mattered. I mean… it was all just stuff, wasn’t it? Stuff is just stuff. It seems so unimportant now.”
“I dunno about that.” Jessica was lying on the couch with one leg propped up on the back cushions. “I would love to have five hundred different rooms in my house.” She laughed. “But then I’d have to clean all of them.”
I chuckled. “A house that big, you don’t clean anything yourself—you’d have a housekeeper. Several, probably.”
“Holy shit. You guys had more than one maid?”
“Yeah. We had like an entire staff of people who basically ran the house. Technically, Ava was one of our housekeepers… though she felt more like family to me than someone who was just an employee.”
Jessica rose onto one elbow as she pursed her lips, considering that. “Do you know where she is now?”
“Probably working for another family,” I guessed. “Hopefully. Mom wrote her a good recommendation after everything happened, and we realized that we wouldn’t be able to keep the house, and that meant that we wouldn’t be able to keep her employed.”
“Man, that sucks. Well—if everything ever goes back to normal, I bet she’d come back to work for you.”
If things go back to normal…
What the hell did that even mean anymore?
I smiled, a small, sad thing. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe.”
She flopped back on the couch again, gazing up at the ceiling as she peppered me with more questions. A few hours passed, and once Jessica got her fill of hearing about my “fancy-ass rich life,” she told me more about her own.
Apparently, she hadn’t lived in Baltimore all her life. Her father had been in the military, and as a kid, she’d moved around a lot. But after her parents divorced, her mom got custody of her, and they moved here.
Jessica’s voice softened a little when she talked about her mom, insisting that she’d done the best she could as a single mother while admitting that a lot of the child support checks that came in ended up going toward things they shouldn’t. There was a reason there was always so much booze available at Jessica’s parties.
I felt for her, and it was… nice that I was able to talk to another girl about something that had nothing to do with the insanity otherwise going on in my life. It was freeing. It felt like what having a real friend should feel like. We spoke and listened to each other without judgement, something I’d never really been able to do with the girls I’d once called friends. In my old world, any sign of weakness had been an open invitation for an attack.
We were packing up our books several hours later, having finished all of our homework, when the front door open
ed again. The Lost Boys strode in, and my heart leapt as I lurched to my feet. I scanned each of them for any sign of injury, but they didn’t look beat up. They didn’t look like anything bad had happened to them. If anything, they looked… happy.
“Hey,” I said, trying not to seem too eager to see them again. Jessica had already figured out I was on edge about something; I didn’t need to give her any more reasons to be curious about what was going on. “How’d it go?”
“Hell of a thing.” Bishop shook his head, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “We got a promotion.”
I blinked.
“A… promotion?” That was the last thing I’d expected to hear.
“Yup.” He looked over my shoulder, nodding to Jessica. “Hey, we’re gonna take Cora and bounce. Gonna get some dinner. See you at school?”
Jessica waved her hand, absorbed in a text message that was probably from Liam and was probably filthy as hell.
“Yeah, definitely. Congrats on your promotion, ya big shots.” She glanced up quickly and grinned, then shifted her focus to me. “Study session again next weekend?”
“Sounds good.”
I flashed her a quick smile before she went back to her phone, then gathered up my things in a rush. I was teeming with questions, but if Bishop was anxious to get out of here, it meant there was more he wanted to talk about than just the promotion from Nathaniel.
Had Nathaniel asked them about Flint? Why had he promoted them?
I couldn’t contain the questions crashing around in my head by the time we got out to the car.
“What happened?” I blurted immediately. “Obviously things didn’t go too badly. God, I was worried as fuck about you guys. What did he say? Do you think he knows?”
Bishop started up the car, shaking his head as he glanced over at me.
“Well, he knows something’s up with Flint. He hasn’t reported to work in a week, and nobody’s heard from him. But I don’t think Nathaniel’s been able to track down more info than that yet. Flint deliberately chose a place outside of Nathaniel’s territory when he met up with you, someplace he knew he wouldn’t be recognized.”
