“So, basically, all we know is that they drive a black SUV and that they’re from one of the families,” Hunter states in irritation. “Great, that narrows it down to basically anyone who’s a part of a family.”
“My money is on Porter,” Zay replies. “He saw us with Raven this morning and made those subtle threats.”
“I agree, but we can’t retaliate until we know for sure,” Hunter reminds him. “Even though we’re technically not part of the family, we still have to follow the rules, or we’ll be in deep shit.”
“I’m aware of how the rules work,” Zay snaps. “I don’t need a reminder.”
“Don’t snap at me, man,” Hunter tells him. “I’m not the one pissing you off right now.”
“I know that,” Zay grumbles. “I’m just pissed off … I don’t like it when people get the upper hand over me.”
“None of us do.” Jax’s voice is weighed with exhaustion. “But we’re not the one who suffered. She did.” He hugs me closer against him and buries his face in my neck.
Time and time again, everyone has said how scary Jax is, but all I’ve seen is this sweet, soft side, so I don’t really get it.
“I know,” Zay chokes on the word and quickly clears his throat, his tone dropping to an eerie, dark tone. “We’re going to find out who did this, and then the fuckers are going to pay. They want to play a game, then let’s show them how to play. We may all hate are families, and everyone may know that, but they forgot that, while we may have detached ourselves from them, for a very long time we were raised by the scariest motherfuckers this town has ever known. We know things, and I think whoever did this to her stupidly forgot that.”
“I completely agree, but I also want to point out that you sound very protective right now,” Hunter remarks with a hint of a taunt in his tone.
“Oh, shut the hell up,” Zay snaps. “I’m just pissed off, and I …” He trails off.
As They grow silent, that tiredness I’ve been fighting off finally wins.
13
Jax
My knee is bouncing up and down as I sit in the chair in our living room, biting my thumbnail. If Raven was here, she’d probably tell me to stop, and I know I should. I’m a mess, though.
“She should’ve woken up by now,” I mumble, jitteriness bouncing through me.
“She has woken up. She’s just been a bit out of it.” Zay is standing in front of the fireplace, drinking whiskey from a glass. “You need to calm down.”
I scratch my wrist. “I’m trying, but nothing is working.” And I don’t think anything will work except either Raven being wide awake so I know she’s perfectly okay or the bite of a razor on my flesh.
Sighing, Zay crosses the room and hands me the glass. I down the rest of it then hand the glass back, the alcohol burning my throat and numbing my anxiety a drop.
“I need you to have a clear head.” Zay sets the glass on the table. Then he sinks down onto the coffee table in front of me. “If this game has really been started again, we can’t have you going off the deep end. Hunter and I need you to have our backs.” He presses his lips together momentarily. “And so does Raven.”
Knowing he’s right, I take a deep breath in and out in an attempt to calm myself down. “You say that like you’re finally accepting her into our group.”
“Did I ever really have a choice?” He arches a brow. “You and Hunter basically made that choice for me when you decided to make friends with her after only knowing her for a couple of days.”
“Have we only known her for a few days, though?” I challenge, thinking of that photo.
That haunting photo.
And that image of Raven falling off the bridge. It looked so similar to when Willow did. Only, this time it didn’t end the same. I saved her. I ran so fast when she fell that Zay didn’t even have time to stop the car before I jumped into the water. I think Hunter ran after me while Zay chased down the people who pushed her off the bridge. That didn’t matter to me, though. All that mattered was that I saved her, that I didn’t fail her like I did the last time.
At first, I couldn’t find her, but then I felt her fingers brush mine. She was reaching for me, and I held onto her with everything I had in me.
He rubs his lips together. “We still don’t know that for sure.”
“Don’t we?” I question with doubt as I lean forward and rest my overlapped hands on my knees. “She looks like her, you know. I’m not sure how much about her you remember, but she had the same color of hair. I noticed that the first moment I met Raven—that she had hair like Willow’s.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, and that’s when I know …
“You thought that, too, didn’t you?”
He shakes his head. “Even if I did, what does it matter? Just because they have the same hair color, doesn’t mean they’re the same person.”
“What about the photo?”
“I’m not sure, but maybe Raven isn’t who we think she is. Perhaps she’s playing us.”
“We don’t know who she is and neither does she, really.”
“She could be lying about the amnesia.”
“She could, but I don’t think so.” When he opens his mouth to argue, like he almost always does, I talk over him. “Look, I get that you like to be cautious—I do—and I understand it. And I know we need to look more into this, but … I’ve had this feeling from the moment I met Raven that I knew her. It came out of nowhere.
“And I know you don’t believe in souls or whatever, but I do. And I really do think that the feeling was coming from my soul, because it remembered her. Willow … she was my best friend, my other half, so let’s do what we need to do to figure out her past. But don’t tell me to stop believing this soul-wrenching feeling that the only girl I’ve loved and thought I killed never died.” By the time I’m done, my heart is thrashing so forcefully in my chest that I swear it’s going to crack my ribs.
Zay remains quiet for a bit, silently contemplating what I’m assuming is a counterargument. So, he throws me off when he says, “She wasn’t just your best friend. Willow, I mean. She was all of ours. And we all played a part in letting her die by not being there for her and plotting that stupid escape.”
“I know that,” I say, trying to figure out where he’s going with this. “So, are you saying you think Raven is her?”
He shrugs. “I honestly don’t know, and I’m not going to let myself think that until I know for sure. I’m not like you—I don’t have a soul and don’t believe in them, so all I have to go by is the knowledge I have, which right now isn’t much.”
“But we’re going to figure it out.” Hunter enters the room then, his hair sticking up all over the place, due to the fact that, when he gets stressed out, he drags his hand through his hair repeatedly. “We have to.”
“I know,” Zay agrees, twisting around on the table toward him. “We were already looking into her anyway.”
Hunter leans against the wall with his arms folded. “For our fathers. This, though … They can’t know we think she’s Willow.”
“He’s right.” I sink back in the chair. “Although, I wonder if they know already … or have a suspicion. I mean, if she is alive … they’d have to know since they’re the ones who staged her death.”
“Not necessarily,” Zay says. When I give him a puzzled look, he adds, “The day she fell into the river, I overheard Willow’s father talking to some random guy about an escape plan. I thought he was talking about an escape plan for himself if the police ever busted the operation, but I don’t know … The fact that Willow died that same day … sometimes I wonder if he staged it to get her out of there.”
I fold my fingers inward, stabbing my fingernails into my palms. “Why did you never say anything about this before?”
“Because I didn’t want to give you false hope,” he tells me, scrubbing his hand over his head while letting out a sigh. “And it still doesn’t mean anything.”
“No, it means ever
ything.” I shake my head, pissed off yet … hopeful? Yeah, I think that’s what I’m feeling right now. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt it. A long damn time.
For the next few minutes, all of us remain quiet as we sink into our thoughts. My mind is centered on Raven. Apparently, Hunter’s is, too, since when he breaks the silence, it’s to talk about her.
“Did you guys see the scars on her side?” he asks with a frown.
Through all the chaos, I’d almost forgotten about what I’d seen on Raven’s side, and the reminder sends the same anger thrashing through me as it did when I first saw those marks on her.
“I saw them,” I tell him. “And I’m pretty sure someone put them on her.”
“I saw them, too,” Zay utters. “How can you be so sure she didn’t do that to herself? She might have the same issues as you.” He offers me an apologetic look.
“Maybe she does,” I say, “but at the angle those words were on her side, it’d be really hard for her to put them on herself.”
“Then that means someone put them on her,” Hunter states, horrified.
“I know,” I say.
The three of us remain quiet. I’m not sure how they feel, but a series of emotions are barreling through me.
Fury.
Sympathy.
Pain.
To be honest, all I really want to do is hug Raven.
“We’ll find out what happened,” Hunter suddenly states. “And then go from there.”
Zay nods, quietly agreeing, and so do I.
The agreement never gets said aloud, but I already know the rules. They’re the rules we made to each other when we first became friends.
1.) We always have each other’s back;
2.) If one of us hurts, so do the others; and
3.) If someone hurts one of us, they will pay for it.
Raven’s one of us now, so the rules apply to her, too.
Whoever did this to her is going to pay for it.
“We need to get her a new phone ASAP… I think she dropped the one she had in the river,” Hunter states, breaking the silence. “She needs one; not just so I can continue to track down the hacker, but if some dumbass is starting up that stupid game, I don’t want her to be vulnerable.” He shifts his weight. “I worry when she has to be alone, like when she goes home.” He drags his fingers through his hair. “I want to be able to keep an eye on her twenty-four seven.”
“Well, we just put up cameras in her house, so we should be able to,” Zay says then quickly adds, “I know where you’re going with this, and I think it’s a stupid idea.”
“How can you know what I’m going to say?” Hunter questions. “When I haven’t said anything yet?”
“You’re about to suggest that Raven should live with us for a while.” His brow curves upward. “Am I right?”
Hunter pulls a face. “Yeah… But it’s a good idea.”
“No, it’s not,” Zay insists, shaking his head.
“You might think that, but I don’t.” Hunter looks at me. “And I bet Jax is on my side.”
Zay looks at me. “Are you?”
I hate getting stuck in the middle of these two, but I’m not about to play mediator with this.
I nod. “I am.”
Zay’s lip twitches in annoyance. “Fine, do whatever you want. But when things get complicated, don’t come crying to me.”
He never specifies what the complications are, but I’m sure it has to do with the fact that I like Raven. And so does Hunter. It doesn’t matter, though. I haven’t dated anyone in a while and don’t plan to and Hunter never dates. So we can both stay friends with Raven. That should be easy, except Raven might not be some girl. She could be the girl. The girl from our past.
Maybe Zay is right. Maybe it could get complicated. But I’m not about to change my mind.
14
Raven
Warm blood covers my hands as I stare down at my parents. Blood is all over them, covering their clothes, their hair.
Why is there so much blood? And why is it all over my hands?
“Mom,” I whisper as I collapse to my knees.
I can’t remember how I got here. Can’t remember where the blood came from. All I can remember is the screaming. So much screaming.
“Raven! No!” my mom shouts a plea. “Run!”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
She screams—
My eyelids flutter open and gasp for air. I hate it when I have memories like that, ones I feel like I barely experienced. I usually only have one or two every few months, but today, I’ve had three total. But the last one might be because of what happened to me.
Drugged. I was drugged.
Then I fell from a bridge and Zay, Jax, and Hunter saved me.
What happened after that, though?
Where am I?
My stomach twists with nausea as I peer around at … well, I’m not really sure where I am. From what I can tell, I’m in a large bed with lots of pillows and blankets around me.
The bedroom the bed is in has dark blue walls with photos hanging on them, making me wonder if I’m in Hunter’s room. But how did I get here?
As I slowly sit up, I realize I’m wearing someone else’s shirt, and my body feels like it was run over by a truck. Or like it slammed into a freezing cold river …
As memories of what happened gradually surface, I throw the blankets off me. Then I frown. My legs aren’t covered up by anything.
“Crap,” I breathe out, recalling how Hunter held me while Jax tugged down my shorts.
At first I’d panicked, but then I realized they were just trying to help me not die from hypothermia. Still, I’m a little unsettled at the idea that they saw me without my clothes on.
They probably saw my scars.
Swallow shakily, I start to scoot toward the edge of the bed so I can figure out what happened and where I am. But the door to the bedroom opens up before I can even get my feet to the floor.
A slamming instant of a heartbeat later, Hunter walks in. He blinks in surprise when he notices me then relief washes over his features.
“Thank God, you’re really awake,” he says, the tension in his muscles unraveling.
“Really awake?” I say confusedly. “Was I fake awake before?”
He wavers, raking his fingers through his hair. “You’ve been coming in and out of consciousness for a while.”
“Oh.” I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Where am I exactly?”
He enters the room. “In our house. This is my bedroom.”
I chew on my bottom lip, fiddling with the hem of the shirt I’m wearing that covers up the scars on my side, so many question marks flooding my thoughts. “How did I... I mean, how did I get this shirt on?”
Hunter tracks the movement. “I put it on you. I promise I was careful, though, and didn’t look or let my hands wander...” He trails off with uncertainty. “But I did see something while we were taking your clothes off in the car. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but what I—Jax and I saw has us concerned.”
My cheeks warm as I feel so exposed. “It’s not really a big deal.” Please, please don’t ask me how I got them.
Pity floods his eyes. “No, pretty Raven, it is a big deal. A big, huge fucking deal.” Sucking in a breath, he sits down beside me. “I’m going to show you something. It’s something no one else knows about other than Zay and Jax.”
He opens and flexes his free hand and takes an uneven breath.
He’s nervous.
Why’s he nervous?
When he lifts up the hem of his shirt, I have my answer.
Long, thin, but deep scars cover his sides, chest, and waist.
“Holy shit, what happened?” I ask, glancing up to meet his gaze.
He lowers his shirt, then a breath trembles from his lips. “My stepmom …” He crosses his arms, tucking his hands underneath his armpits. “She’s a bitch who gets off on using her power on people who are
weaker than her. And when I was younger, I was a lot weaker than her … And, well, she used to do things to me a lot … And she would scratch me a lot while she did those things to me.”
He doesn’t specify what the things are, but with the way he’s trembling, I get a pretty good idea. And it makes me feel sick. And angry. Not at him, but at his stepmom and at the fact that we have to live in a world where adults can hurt children likes this.
But I’m not really certain what to say to him. I’ve never had anyone confide in me with something so personal. It makes me feel out of my element, enough that I kind of want to leave. But he’s also sitting here, shivering from probably fear of the memories connected to those scars, and the sight of it tugs at a memory of me trembling in a bed while my uncle leaned over me, and carved the word disappointment into my side. It was the first time he did it, and I was terrified. But I learned quickly to numb myself.
“I’m sorry,” I say, deciding to start there. “That that happened to you.”
He promptly shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. And I just wanted to show you so that maybe you’d trust me enough to tell me where you got those scars on your side.” He uncrosses his arms, his eyes searching mine. “They looked like words.”
I smash my lips together. “They’re... They’re just...” I can’t get a good lie to leave my lips.
This isn’t my typical MO, but it’s been a pretty damn traumatic day.
A day I may not have survived if it hadn’t been for Hunter, Zay, and Jax.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he tells me softly. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. But if you want to talk about it, I want you to know that you can trust me.”
Trust? When’s the last time I’ve trusted someone? I can’t even remember. But he trusts me enough to show me his scars. And he saved me. Him, Zay, and Jax didn’t have to do what they did. And sadly, a lot of people would have been perfectly content to ignore the situation. Trust me, I’ve been bullied enough to know that people like to look in the other direction when that sort of stuff is going on.
The Rules of Being Friends (A Pact Between the Forgotten Series Book 2) Page 13
