by R. A. Smyth
“I can’t fucking believe them,” he eventually spits out, jolting me out of my inner thoughts as I turn to look at him. “He couldn’t even look at you, and my mom was a complete bitch.” He shakes his head, glowering out the front windscreen at the dark road ahead of us. “I don’t even recognize them anymore. I can’t work out if they’ve always been this cold and selfish and I just never saw it, or if I’ve been completely deluding myself this whole time.”
“I’m sorry.”
Hawk whips his head around to look at me, his brows furrowed.
“What are you apologizing for?”
I shrug. “It must suck, realizing your parents aren’t who you thought they were.” I mean, they’re supposed to be your role models, right? The people you turn to for help and advice. I can’t imagine asking either of the people I met tonight for anything.
“Well, yeah, but you’re the one that had to grow up without parents.” He doesn’t say it in a nasty way, more like he can’t understand why I would feel sorry for him when, in his opinion, I got dealt a worse hand.
“Maybe so, but you can’t miss what you never had,” I tell him easily, being honest. Sure, I’ve always wondered who they were and what happened, but having met them tonight, I’m honestly glad they weren’t in my life. They can’t disappoint me or let me down, because they’ve never been there or shown me a different side of themselves.
I message Beck on our way back to campus, telling him to meet us at the guys’ apartment. Once we are all together, Hawk relays the whole—rather uneventful—evening. All of them are angry at our parents' blasé attitude, but none of them seem all that surprised. The one thing we’re all in agreement on is that they know more than they’re letting on.
***
On Tuesday, Hawk drives me to some fancy private clinic where a doctor swabs the inside of my cheek and takes some blood. We’re in and out in less than half an hour, and it all feels so anticlimactic considering the outcome will change everything.
I still have so many reservations, and having now met my parents, I’m even more hesitant to dive any further into this world. Do the answers to my questions about my past really matter this much? What will it change? Nothing. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter how I ended up in the life I have. I’m here, surviving and doing the best I can.
But the second Hawk told them the truth about it, the choice to back out of this hairbrained plan was eradicated. Sure, I could still run. There’s no denying the thought crosses my mind several times a day, but every time I picture myself somewhere else, living a life without Emilia or the guys, or even Hawk—I know, I can’t believe I’m even thinking it—I get this strange tightness in my chest, and I just know it’s not as simple as running away. There’s some sort of connection between me and the guys. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s pulling us all together. It’s a force that would be impossible to fight, and, honestly, I don’t want to. I’m sick of fighting. Fighting for my life, fighting for freedom, fighting to be happy. I just want to live. To enjoy the easy moments with Beck, soak up the strength I get from Mason, and bathe in West’s calmness. I don’t know what’s going to happen with Cam, but I need to help him find his light again. I need to see that easy, carefree smile of his, and assure myself I haven’t completely broken him.
So no, while running might seem like the easy solution, it’s not the answer.
After we leave the clinic, I spend the next few days on tenterhooks, waiting for the phone call that’s going to upend my life. I already know what the test results are going to be, but it’s the final confirmation the Davenports need before anything further happens—although I have no idea what comes next. Somehow, I doubt we dive straight into family dinners and vacationing together on the holidays.
“Do you want to talk about what happened with your parents?” Beck asks at our Thursday session. We’re lying on the sofa, which has become our usual position during this hour every week.
“Not particularly,” I grumble.
He wraps his tattooed arm around me and I lean my head against his chest.
“What was it like when you met your dad for the first time?” I ask.
“Well, I was just a kid when I first met him—after my mom and I moved out of Black Creek—but I knew as soon as I laid eyes on him that he was never going to be any sort of father figure. Not that he hung around long enough to even try and get to know me.
“Most of the kids I grew up with didn’t have fathers. If they weren’t in prison or dead, they were neck deep in gang life, and that was always their priority over their own kids, so I never felt like I was missing out on much.
“When he showed up last year, it quickly became obvious he saw me as a pawn. Someone he could manipulate into doing his bidding. Which is exactly what happened. I thought after growing up in Black Creek, and all the lowlifes I met there, that I’d be able to handle whatever he wanted in return. I stupidly figured whatever he would ask of me would be worth it.” He sighs dejectedly. “But things have gotten so fucked up.”
Yeah, he can say that again.
“What does he want from you?”
There’s a moment of heavy silence.
“I’m not sure yet.” His voice sounds tense, tighter than it did a moment ago.
I glance up at him through my eyelashes, noticing the deep frown on his face, and the moss green of his eyes looks duller than it did when I first walked in. It’s possible not knowing what’s going to be asked of him has him on edge—and why wouldn’t it when he knows what he does—but if that’s the case, why do I feel like he’s lying?
“Maybe he’s just using you so he can threaten West’s life,” I suggest. I’ve been trying to think about it, to work out what use Beck could be to the company. Honestly, being used as a tool to threaten the rest of them is the best-case scenario, but I’m concerned they’re going to want to make use of the skills he’s learned through his degree, analyzing people and figuring out what makes them tick. If that’s the case, our parents might want to involve him with the new recruits, somehow. I know Beck is tough, and he’s seen and done some fucked up things in his youth, but I don’t know how well he—or the others—would handle knowing their parents don’t just offer mercenaries for hire, but that they train them, more or less from birth, ensuring that each child grows into a formidable machine. Some of these kids become so removed from their humanity that they barely even see their targets as human beings.
“Yeah, maybe.” The hopeless tone of his voice has unease churning in my stomach, only intensifying the feeling that there’s something he’s not telling me. Worry for him courses through me. If Beck was forced to come up with new and creative ways to dehumanize those kids, or differentiate the weak from the strong, I don’t think he could live with himself.
He coughs, clearing his throat, before changing the topic. “How have things been going with you and Hawk?”
As much as I want to know what he’s hiding, I welcome the change in conversation. I trust Beck enough to know he’ll tell me when he’s ready.
“Okay, I think.” I shrug. “He doesn’t seem to hate me, which I guess is a win. Things are still awkward, though. Neither of us knows how to be around one another without biting each other’s heads off.”
He chuckles softly. “It’ll get easier with time. At least he seems to be trying.”
“Yeah, he’s still a dick most of the time, though. Especially when he doesn’t get his way. I really don’t understand how West put together that we were related. I’m nowhere near as infuriating as him.”
Another rumble of laughter vibrates through his chest.
“Did you get things sorted with all of them after Valentine's day?”
“Yeah, I think so. Well, West and Mason explained none of them had anything to do with Bianca’s stunt. And now that I’ve had time to think about it, Cam has been so busy beating himself up, I don’t see that he would do something to hurt or upset me. It was stupid of me to believe Bianca at all, I was ju
st…”
“After everything you’ve been through with them, it’s understandable that you weren’t sure what to believe. The main thing is that you worked everything out.”
“We did, but I still don’t like how much trust I’ve had to put in them. We’re blindly going along with this plan of theirs. What if it blows up in our faces, or they turn on me?”
“Unfortunately, they know more about their parents than we do, so I don’t see that we have any other choice but to listen to their advice for now,” Beck says, voicing my own thoughts. “I don’t believe you have anything to worry about, anyway. Hawk’s been different with you recently. As for the other guys, well, the way they look at you…I don’t know how the whole school hasn’t caught on to it.”
“On to what?” I question, confused. All four Princes have always watched me closely, but they’re perpetually attuned to their surroundings, watching everything that goes on around them.
“Their feelings for you.”
He says it like it’s obvious. Something I should already know. I mean, I know Mason and West like me, but I wouldn’t say there is anything obvious about the way they look at me. As for Cam…well, I can’t deny the way my body flushes when I feel his eyes on me, or how my heart rate picks up when he’s nearby. But regardless of my body’s physical reaction, we’re just friends. After everything the two of us have been through, I don’t see how we could ever be anything more.
“Don’t talk crap,” I grumble, pushing up onto my elbow so I can scowl down at him.
“I’m not,” he insists with a small laugh, as though he can’t understand how I don’t see what he sees. “I realized it the first day I saw them with you, when you had your panic attack. Sure, they were freaking out, but they were genuinely concerned for you. Mason wouldn’t even leave until I reassured him you’d be okay.”
Well, if my sappy little heart doesn’t go all gooey at hearing that.
“And Cam is determined to do whatever it takes to make it up to you. The steadfastness in his eyes that night they found us in the clearing was more than obvious.”
“That doesn’t mean he has feelings for me,” I argue.
“Maybe not,” he reasons. “But the fact he said he was done with the tradition and was using Bianca to taunt you is.”
I’m not sure what to make of his words as I mull them over. “None of that means they’re trustworthy, though.”
“It doesn’t,” he agrees easily. “But they did help us get rid of a dead body, so maybe they deserve the benefit of the doubt.”
Hmmm, maybe.
Chapter 2
“You need to stay here while we’re gone,” Hawk orders in his usual no-nonsense tone. You’d think he would have worked out by now that that’s not the way to handle Hadley. The second the words are out of his mouth, her back straightens and she glowers at him.
“Now I know you didn’t just order me to do something,” she snaps, defiance glowing in her eyes.
She’s so fucking sexy when she’s spitting fire and ready for a fight. I’m used to people cowering and bending to our every whim, but Hadley doesn’t take any of our shit. She’s never given a damn about our power or influence.
I agreed to be friends with her—so my dick definitely shouldn’t be getting hard as I watch her stand up to Hawk—but fuck me. Friends? I haven’t got the first fucking clue how to be friends with a girl, and there’s no way Hadley and I can just be friends. Not with the way my dick strains to get to her every time we’re in the same room.
I’ve never been so attuned to someone’s presence before. My whole body comes alive when she’s nearby. My skin heats and my cock swells, not understanding that this girl is off-limits. Despite my body’s reaction to her, my brain isn’t on the same page. I don’t know how to behave around her. The easy banter we used to have is no longer there, and instead, we’re left making awkward conversation, neither one of us sure how to respond. It’s fucking exhausting.
“I’m not a fucking idiot,” Hadley snaps, drawing me back to her argument with Hawk. “I’m not about to go wandering around in the forest after what happened, but I’m perfectly safe in my room.”
Hawk got a phone call earlier today from his dad. Apparently, all of our parents are demanding a meeting with us. Our guess is Hadley’s DNA results are in and they want to discuss what that means for them, and for our ruling over the school.
The five of us were chilling in the apartment; Hadley was playing a video game with Mason while I watched them—well, her—and West was fiddling around on his laptop, before Hawk had to open his big mouth and start this argument. He looks like he’s ready to strangle her, as he gives her a look that has most other students pissing themselves, ready to do just about anything to get him to stop staring at them like that.
Jesus, are siblings supposed to be so aggressive toward one another? The only difference between them since finding out they’re twins is that Hawk’s dickishness no longer comes from a place of hate, but they still snipe at one another like they want to tear each other’s heads off.
“Your room is on the ground floor,” Hawk argues. “Anyone could break in.”
Hadley throws her hands up in exasperation. “I’m pretty sure killers can climb stairs,” she snarks. Her comeback has Mason not-so-subtly swiping his hand over his mouth, hiding his chuckle behind his large palm. The girl has an answer for everything.
“You could invite Beck over, then you’ll both be here for when we get back,” I suggest, earning a glare from West.
Both siblings turn to look at me. Hadley has a thoughtful look on her face, before a cunning smile graces it.
“That works,” she agrees far too easily, and Hawk gives her a suspicious look, likely trying to work out her angle.
She’s probably thinking about fucking Beck on Hawk’s bed, just to piss him off. Damn, why does that thought have my dick twitching?
***
That evening, we are picked up in a chauffeur-driven car and taken into the city, to the modern office building that houses our parents’ company. Our families own property throughout California, but the base of their operation is here. This building is the powerhouse of Nocturnal Enterprises.
An hour later, we exit the vehicle and make our way into the building, pushing open the glass door into the vast, mostly empty foyer. At forty stories, the high-rise is tall and sleek, composed completely of glass that reflects the setting sun, causing a glare that burns my eyes.
Besides the security guard manning the door—who doesn’t bat an eyelash as we walk past him—and a couple of women seated at a reception desk, the ground floor is otherwise empty as we stride toward the bank of elevators. No one stops us or says anything. Everyone here knows who we are, even though we rarely visit.
None of us say anything—you never know who could be listening—and all too soon, the doors are opening onto the thirty-seventh floor. Our parents own the entire building, but they rent out all but the top three floors. Everything from the thirty-seventh floor up is all Nocturnal Enterprises. How much of that is actually Nocturnal Mercenaries, I’m not sure.
“Welcome, boys,” the receptionist greets, a seductive purr to her words. She’s got curvy hips, and lasciviously licks her lips as her eyes bounce between the four of us, her pupils dilated with desire. Any other visit, and I’d be all over that, but my dick doesn't even stir. Frustratingly, only one fiery blonde gets any sort of response out of me anymore, even though I’m not supposed to be thinking about her like that.
It’s not for lack of trying, but no matter how many times I tell myself I can’t go near Hadley; that I’ve fucked things up so badly I should just be grateful she’s even talking to me, my dick doesn’t get the message. Neither does my heart, based on the way it picks up speed whenever she’s around. It’s making it impossible to be near her, yet, I can’t stop myself gravitating her way. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment.
The receptionist escorts us toward a large board room. “Can I get any
of you a drink? Your parents should be here momentarily.”
“No, we’re fine,” Hawk responds succinctly, barely sparing her a glance as we filter into the room.
Nodding, she turns to leave, but not before casting one last longing look over each of us.
“Well, let me know if you need anything.” Her voice drops to a husk as she says ‘anything,’ and she trails her finger down my arm before she steps out of the room, leaving us alone.
Scowling, I uselessly wipe down my arm, as though her touch might have left cooties or some shit. Mason snorts, shaking his head at my antics as he follows Hawk toward the table.
The four of us take our seats along one side of the long glass table, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a spectacular view of the city skyline. We’re only left waiting a minute before our parents filter in—Maria and Barton Davenport, Theresa and Frank Hayes, Wilbert Warren, and last, but not least, Daddy Dearest. West’s mom is off god only knows where, pretending she doesn’t have a son or a cheating sleazeball of a husband, and, well, I never really knew my mom; she was nothing more than an egg donor.
I can barely look my dad in the eye as he struts into the room, not a care in the fucking world, and it takes everything in me not to throw myself across the table and murder the fucker right here. I’ve already been given a stern warning by Hawk not to do something stupid. We need the element of surprise if we stand any chance of taking him down. He doesn’t know it, but he’s a dead man walking, even if I have to kill him myself. He’s never been a father to me. There’s no love lost between us, and even if there was, nothing could negate his actions. What he’s done to Hadley is beyond fucked up, and he clearly knows where she’s been all these years.
From what Hawk said, their parents know something too, but we can’t be sure if they were in on whatever the hell went down, or if they’re just covering up the reason for her disappearance. Regardless, all six of our parents are suspicious as fuck.
