My thoughts fleetingly drift back to that memory of the butterfly …
“Well, whatever we want to call them,” Zay says, drawing me back to reality. “Someone needs to explain it to her.”
He looks at Hunter, who simply lowers his gaze back to the screen of the iPad. “I’m not doing it, so don’t look at me.”
“I’ll do it,” Jax offers then stuffs the last of his sandwich into his mouth.
Zay promptly shakes his head. “No way. You’ll just mentally thesaurus all the scary words and use less scary ones.”
Jax massages his temples with his fingertips. “You’re giving me a headache.”
Zay ignores him, focusing on me. “There are five families in this town who basically control everything. Us three are part of the Capperellie clan, which is probably the most powerful family in town. Although, other families will tell you otherwise.”
Capperellie is Jax’s last name, but not Hunter’s. And I don’t know Zay’s last name. Katy had mentioned they were cousins, though.
“But how is Hunter part of this family if his last name is Hathingford?” I wonder. “And I don’t know your last name, but I’m guessing it’s Capperellie since you and Jax are cousins.”
Zay’s brow meticulously arches. “How do you know we’re cousins?”
I shrug, a move that’s awkward with how close Jax is sitting to me. “Katy told me.”
“Right. Hunter’s little fuck buddy.” He tosses Hunter a look.
Hunter squirms. “She’s not my fuck buddy. I just hooked up with her once.”
“Whatever,” Zay says. “My point is this is why you need to keep your dick in your pants. You get these groupies who like to run their mouths after you screw them over. And now we’re going to have to add the jealousy factor into it, which is going to cause a lot more drama.”
Hunter’s gaze flicks up to Zay. “Jealousy factor?”
Zay glances from him to me.
It takes a second for it to click.
“Raven and I are just friends,” Hunter stresses while scratching his wrist.
“So? She’s a girl in our group, which means she’ll be spending time with you, and all of those groupies, like Katy, are going to get jealous and do who knows what.” Zay’s hard expression sears into Hunter.
Hunter is way past annoyed, but also twitchy. I feel sorry for him, watching him get scolded by his friend.
Is this what all friendships are like?
“If you want, I can kick her ass for you,” I offer. “That might keep her mouth shut.”
Zay’s gaze skates to me, shock briefly flickering in his eyes.
“Yeah, I think she’s going to fit in just fine with our group,” Jax mumbles, thrumming his fingers against the top of his knee.
Zay slants forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You seem perfectly okay with getting in a fight?”
“Does that really surprise you, considering the first time we met?” I quip then stuff another bite of sandwich into my mouth.
He observes me closely. “I guess not. It’s probably a good thing, too, that you’re a fighter, because this hellhole you now call home is going to test your fighting skills.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why does it matter if I can fight just because mobsters or whatever reside in this town?”
“They don’t reside in the town,” Zay stresses. “They fucking own it. Everything that gets done here, they know about, and they get a say in it.”
“They control everyone,” Jax adds, his knee bouncing up and down again, like it did in first period. He has his elbow propped on the armrest and is chewing on his thumbnail. He’s wearing a silver thumb ring that occasionally scrapes across his teeth. The noise is like nails on a chalkboard, so I reach over, place my hand on his, and move his hand away from his mouth. He blinks, brows furrowing.
I offer him a small smile. “Sorry, but the ring scraping against your teeth was making an awful noise. Plus, you shouldn’t bite your fingernails.”
Weirdly, my explanation seems to confuse him even more. He looks at me with almost desperation in his eyes as his gaze searches mine.
“But anyway.” Zay’s voice sears through the moment. “It’s not just the power that makes the families dangerous. It’s the rivalry. Every family hates each other and are always trying to dethrone each other. Since the Capperellies are the highest up, we’re at risk most, but we’re also the most powerful.”
Yeah, this is definitely mobster stuff. Still …“You guys are in high school,” I say, feeling Jax shift beside me. He leans closer to me with his hands on his legs and his pinkie grazes mine. I doubt it’s intentional, but I feel a soft shiver kiss across my skin anyway. “I mean … does all of this affect you that much?”
Zay nods with zero hesitation. “We’re always expected to honor our family’s name, even when we’ve disconnected from our family, like me, Jax, and Hunter have … You know Porter? Well, his family is constantly trying to dethrone the Capperellies, so it’s not a good thing he was paying so much attention to you this morning.”
“But I’m not a Capperellie,” I stupidly state the obvious.
“But you’re spending time with two of their sons. And Hunter, while his last name isn’t Capperellie, his father is best friends with Jax’s father, who is the boss.”
“The boss seems like a very mobster term,” I say.
Zay’s gaze never wavers from mine. “That’s because they are mobsters, despite what Jax tells you. And he’s the scariest motherfucker you’ll ever meet.”
“She won’t ever meet him,” Jax bites out, straightening.
“You know that might be out of your control.” Zay presses him with a look. “He’s already shown an interest in her family.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Jax snaps, rising to his feet. “She’s not going to see him. I don’t care what he wants. And if he tries to make her, I’ll stop him myself.” With that, he storms out of the room. Seconds later, I hear a door slam.
Silence ticks by, and my heart is beating deafeningly in my chest.
“He’s right,” Hunter says quietly. “We shouldn’t let him see her. Or any of our fathers, for that matter.” He swallows audibly. “Unless we want to risk history repeating itself.”
Silence settles amongst them again, and Zay’s gaze drifts to the painting of the tree. “Maybe,” he utters, I think to himself. Then he glances back at me. “Maybe you shouldn’t help us. I mean, now that you know all this, perhaps you should just change your mind.”
Is he asking me or telling me? It’s really difficult to tell.
“Even if she did, she’d still be at risk since they’re already looking into her,” Hunter reminds him as he sets the iPad down on the coffee table.
“So … your parents are the ones looking into my family?” I ask, unsure how I feel about that.
Hunter pulls an oh-shit face, like he wasn’t ever planning on telling me. “You technically weren’t supposed to know that.”
I restlessly ravel a strand of my hair around my finger. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. I don’t even have anyone to tell.”
“I know you think that, but there are people here who have a way of getting the truth out of anyone,” Hunter says with a remorseful look.
“Like Porter,” Zay states. “So, you need to be careful if you’re ever around him.”
A chill slithers up my spine, but I remain calm on the outside.
“You’ll be fine.” Hunter levels his gaze with mine. “We’ll keep an eye on you. You’re not alone in this.”
While I’m certain he means his words, I have a hard time accepting them—that I’m not alone in this. I’ve been alone in this—in life—for a very long time.
Zay’s phone beeps suddenly, and when he glances at it, a frown forms on his face. “We should get going. We have about thirty more minutes before lunch is over.” He gets to his feet without waiting for anyone to respond.
Hunter sighs then twists to face me, giving me back my phone.
“We’ll work more on this later, after Jax takes you to get you a new phone afterschool. I’m thinking that it might be easier to track the number from a device that’s more compatible with the programs I use.”
“Are you sure Jax will still want to take me?” I take the phone from him and pocket it before standing up.
“Of course.” Hunter rises to his feet, too, and collects the box he took the iPad from.
“He seemed really upset.”
He nods, balancing the box in one hand so he can brush a wisp of his blond hair out of his face. “That had nothing to do with you. There’s just certain topics that set him off sometimes, but he’ll calm down in just a few minutes.”
“Oh.” I pause. “He doesn’t like talking about his dad then?”
Hunter shakes his head. “No one does. And the same goes for our own fathers.” He wavers. “Jax, Zay, and I worked really hard to get away from them. We saved up every ounce of money we made so we could get our own place. Unfortunately, while we remain in this town, we’ll always be under their control, like when they force us to look into you and your family. After we graduate, though, we’re out.”
“I get that. I mean, wanting to take off after you graduate. I fully plan on, too.” That is, if I can figure out a way to save up money. “Why don’t you guys just leave now? I mean, you live on your own, so I’m assuming you’re all either eighteen or have been emancipated.”
“We’re all eighteen. And while we’d like to leave, we made a vow to stick around until graduation, mostly to keep an eye on Low for as long as we can.” He pauses, severe reluctance weighing in his expression. “And there are a few things tied to this town that not all of us are ready to say goodbye to.” Again, his face turns solemn as he glances at the photo of the tree.
I find myself wanting to know what happened. Who did they lose that they used to spend time with at that tree? I won’t ask. Not with how haunted Hunter’s eyes look. So, I try to let it go as we leave the living room and walk out of the house. But even when we step outside into the chilly wind and clouds, surrounded by a neighborhood of picture-perfect houses, I can’t stop thinking about that tree.
Like it’s branded into my mind.
9
Jax
The first time I saw Raven, this weird feeling of déjà vu overcame me. Her eyes … that defiant look in them when she told Zay off … I swear I’d seen it before. But it was the color of her hair that amplified the feeling—black with tints of blue and silver, like ravens feathers. I’d only seen that shade of hair one other time.
Willow, the girl who used to be one of my best friends. The girl who saved me. The girl I let die that day on that bridge. I try not to think about her as much as I can, but with the nightmare I had last night and now this … I’m freaking out, my skin crawling, and I can’t hold still. So, I pace my bedroom, over and over again, hoping to get some of these feelings out of me.
Anxiety.
Pain.
Guilt.
It’s swimming inside my veins, consuming me, and I don’t know how to get it out. I know how I want to get it out, but I promised Zay and Hunter that I wouldn’t do that shit anymore after that night I cut a little too deep, so deep it left scars on my wrist. Still, as I glance over at my dresser, I almost give in. All I’d have to do is open that top drawer, sneak out the razor that I keep in there, and make a small cut just underneath my sleeve.
I start to walk over there, not giving a shit if I mess everything up, when Zay walks into my room. He doesn’t knock, which annoys me.
“What? We don’t knock anymore?” I snap at him as I wrap my arms around myself, feeling jittery.
I felt this way during first period today, too, and couldn’t sit still. I’m not even positive what was bothering me then. Or maybe I do, and I just don’t want to admit it to myself.
“If I’d knocked, it would’ve given you time to hide shit.” Zay steps into my room and shuts the door behind him. Then he turns to me, arms crossed, observing me as I pace the room. “You know she’s not her, right? This isn’t the same as Willow.”
“Don’t say her fucking name,” I snap, pacing and biting my thumbnail. The ring scrapes across my teeth, a reminder of part of the reason I’m in here, freaking the hell out. “She told me not to bite my fingernails,” I mumble, lowering my thumb from my mouth. “Raven, I mean.”
“She’s right; you shouldn’t. It’s fucking disgusting.” Zay leans against the dresser. “However, I don’t know why you’re bringing this up right now.”
I hug my arms tighter around myself then tuck my hands under my armpits. “Willow used to say that to me all the time,” I divulge in a shaky tone.
Zay didn’t expect me to say that and struggles to keep a neutral expression. This rarely happens, so I must’ve shocked him good.
“Okay, well, it’s not that strange of a thing to say,” he manages to get out in a cautious tone. “But I think we both know that’s not the only thing that has you looking like you’re about to go off the deep end.” He gives a short pause. “You’re getting attached too fast, Jax. You should know better than that. You should know that there’s a chance our fathers are going to want to meet her. You should’ve known that the moment we found out it was her and her family that they want us to look into.”
I start chewing on my thumbnail again—I can’t seem to stop. “I did—do—know that. That doesn’t mean I want her to. And … if there’s a way around it, I want to figure it out.”
Zay pinches the brim of his nose in frustration. “Now you’re just giving me a headache,” he mumbles under his breath. Then, with an exhale, he lowers his fingers from the brim of his nose and looks at me. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’m going to say it anyway.” He steps closer to me. “You’re getting too attached to this girl that—and I stress—we know nothing about. She’s off the grid, which means she could be anyone.” He lowers his voice to a mumble. “For all we know, she could be a spy.”
I shake my head. “She’s not a spy, and you know that, or you wouldn’t have brought her into our group.”
“I didn’t bring her into our group,” he protests. “She’s just helping us out with a job.”
“She’s in our group,” I disagree. “And to be honest, I want her in our group. I like her. She’s funny and nice and tough and really damn beautiful.”
The muscle in Zay’s jaw pulsates. “Why’re you being like this? I expect this sort of shit from Hunter, but not from you. This isn’t like you. At least not since Willow. But even that was different. Willow was … unique.” He swallows hard. “But Raven … you don’t even know her.”
“I know that.” I chew on my bottom lip. “But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’ve known her for a while, like maybe our souls knew each other in another life or something.”
Zay stares at me, unblinking. “Don’t spout that poetic shit to me. You know I don’t believe in souls.” With that, he opens the door. “Come on; we have a job to do, and I’m not leaving you alone while you’re all worked up like this.”
“Whatever,” I grumble as I walk past him and start down the hallway.
“And you need to focus,” Zay calls out as he hurries after me.
I give him a thumbs-up, knowing he’s right, that being focused while we’re working a job is important. But the moment I step outside and spot Raven standing beside the car, talking to Hunter, I know I’m royally screwed.
Just the sight of her is a distraction. It makes my heart soar again. I hate that I feel this way toward her, feel this instant connection. I haven’t felt this way since the first time I met Willow all those years ago. We had been young, barely four or five, when we first met and I had been crying on the back porch of my dad’s mansion after he backhanded me for bringing a stray dog home. He told me I was too soft, too kind, and those things disgusted him, so he smacked me around, trying to harden me up. He did that a lot, mostly because I did dumb, “soft” shit a lot, like bring stray dogs
home, cry, make pinkie promises with the sweetest girl I’ve ever met. Although, that would happen later.
“Are you okay?” was the first thing Willow ever said to me.
It was also the only time anyone had flat-out asked me if I was okay. Yeah, Zay and Hunter were my friends then, but we hadn’t learned yet how to make sure each other was okay. We were all emotionally and physically abused so much it wasn’t something we knew. Willow had taught us that—how to make sure each other was okay.
When I realize she saw me crying, I hurriedly try to wipe away my tears.
“Of course I’m fine,” I lie, trying to play cool, like I wasn’t just bawling like a baby. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because you’re crying,” she says matter-of-factly.
“No, I wasn’t,” I snap, feeling embarrassed.
She wavers, chewing on her bottom lip. “Okay, maybe you weren’t. But just so you know, if you do ever feel the need to cry, it’s okay. I do it sometimes, too, and I’m super tough.”
I laugh a bit at that, and she smiles.
“Feel better?” she asks.
Oddly, I do, enough to smile a little. It’s been a long time since I smiled.
I nod. “Yeah, I kind of do.” I pause, looking at her and wondering who she is and why she’s standing in my yard. Not that it’s completely out of the ordinary for a random person or kid to be wandering around. In fact, it happens a lot. But I haven’t seen her before.
The Rules of Being Friends (A Pact Between the Forgotten Series Book 2) Page 9
