“That’s because we are,” Hunter says, drawing my attention to him. “We made a deal with Jax’s dad quite a while ago. We’ve been working for him ever since, and we’ll continue to work for him until we graduate. Then we’re free to go live our lives.”
“Just like that?” I question with skepticism.
Hunter grows serious, a side of him I didn’t believe existed.
“It hasn’t been easy … what we’ve had to do …” His throat muscles work as he swallows hard then looks away.
The room grows so quiet I can hear the racing beat of my heart.
“So then, why bring me into your circle?” I ask quietly. “I mean, you guys don’t seem like you even like being part of it.”
“Our circle has nothing to do with the Capperellies.” Zay walks over and sits down beside me, leaving more space between us than he did last time. “We created it to protect ourselves from other families … from our own families.” He downs another cup of whiskey then sets the glass aside. Then the three of them trade a look, having some sort of silent discussion with their eyes.
“The thing is,” Hunter says, looking at me. “With your dad being the sheriff, you’re in a very vulnerable situation. If he tries to play good cop and goes up against the five families, things are going to get really ugly for your family fast.”
“And if he decides to let one of the families buy him off,” Zay adds, “then the other four families are going to come after you.”
“So, basically, I’m screwed,” I state, unsure how I feel about that, about any of what they’re saying.
“You should sound more worried,” Zay warns, his gaze searing into mine. “This isn’t a joke. The people who run this town are dangers. Trust us. We’ve been working with them for years and have seen the darkness …” He slouches back on the chair and mumbles, “We’re part of the darkness ourselves.”
Again, I wonder what sort of things they’ve done, if they’re as bad as me.
“I am worried,” I tell him. “I just … I don’t know …” I shrug, not wanting to explain how messed up I am, how I hardly allow myself to feel much.
Zay’s dark eyes try to unravel me. “You just what?”
I shrug again. “I really don’t know. I mean, all of this—the mafia, your circle—I’ve never had to deal with anything like it before.”
Zay arches his brow. “You sure about that?”
“Yeah …?” Puzzlement webs through me. “Why?”
Zay shrugs then sneaks a glance at Jax. “Just wondering.”
My puzzlement deepens, but before I can ask more questions, Zay turns back to me.
“Look, I know you think you don’t want to be part of our circle, but we’re not screwing around when we say that you’re putting yourself at risk if you don’t join.” He crosses his arms. “This town, it’s full of unsaid rules and territories, and if you don’t know where not to go and what not to do, you’re gonna end up a hell of a lot worse than how you did today.”
“We want to help you, little raven.” Hunter threads his fingers through mine to capture my attention. “But you have to accept our help.”
I shake my head, the words overwhelming me and making me put my guard up. “Why, though? Because I jumped off some dumb bridge? Because it doesn’t make sense. Not really … I mean, people don’t just help other people out ’cause they’re crazy enough to jump into freezing cold rivers.” I nibble on my bottom lip. “I feel like there’s more to it. Like maybe this is a setup.”
Zay shakes his head and mumbles, “You have more trust issues than I do.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Jax states, his gaze dissecting me. “But she definitely has trust issues.”
I resist the urge to squirm. “Let’s just say I’ve been stabbed in the back a lot.”
Jax stares at me so intently that I feel like he’s peeling back layers of my skin. “By who?”
I lift a shoulder. “A lot of people.”
He mulls over what I said with a blank expression. “You give us one name, and we’ll take care of it.”
Zay’s gaze snaps to him. “Are you being serious right now?”
Jax shrugs, his gaze relentlessly boring into me. “She needs to trust us. Let’s give her a reason.”
Hunter grins wildly from beside me as he rubs his hands together. “Oh, I’m liking the sound of this.”
“So who’s it going to be?” Jax stares at me with a challenge in his eyes, as if daring me to give him a name. Maybe I shouldn’t. I mean, I’ve seen what these guys are capable of. They warned me that they’re dangerous. And they’re in the mafia for hell’s sake. But then the scars on my side start to throb, pulsate, begging me to let out that pain, just utter one name.
Dixie May?
My aunt?
Almost everyone from my old school.
The cop who hauled me away from my house that day.
The doctor from the psychiatric hospital who studied me way too closely.
I could even tell them myself. Punish myself for putting those scars on my wrist.
The scars on my side throb harder, begging me to say one name.
“All right,” I say. “I want you to take care of my uncle.”
Jax gives a nod, not a drop of surprise evident in his eyes, like he expected me to say just that. “All right, consider it done.”
Raven
After my declaration, Jax gets up and leaves the room and Zay follows after him. So does Hunter, but he pulls me up with him and keeps ahold of my hand as he guides me out the door and into the hallway.
None of them exchange any words as Jax walks ahead with Zay right behind him and Hunter and I tagging along at the end. As the silence creeps up on me, unease stirs, and I instinctively reach into my pocket to grab my iPod and earbuds. Then I remember I left them in my locker, along with my stash of weed.
“Dammit,” I gripe unintentionally aloud.
Hunter glances at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I give a dismissive shrug.
“Oh, now, come on. I wanna know.” He pouts, batting his eyelashes at me.
“Dude, how many times a day do you pull that crap?” I gesture at his batting eyelashes.
“All the damn time,” he answers shamelessly. “And it almost always works. Just like it’s going to now.” He bats his eyelashes again.
I roll my eyes hard. “Whatever. It’s not even a big deal. I was just curing ’cause I left my iPod at school. And my stash of weed.”
“Weed, huh?” His brow cocks. “You a stoner?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I just do it when I want to tune out. I actually steal it from my uncle.”
Hunter’s forehead creases as we reach the end of the hallway that splits into two other hallways.
“Your uncle sells?” Hunter asks, steering me to the right.
I shrug as I peer around at the stars painted on the ceiling. “I’m not sure. All I know is that he steals some of the drugs from the raids he does and stashes them in our attic, so I occasionally sneak up there and steal a little here and there. I’m not sure what he does with the rest, but my bet is he sells it or does the drugs himself … Although, I’m not sure if he’s going to have a stash now that we live here.” I blow out a sigh. Which means I’m probably going to have to find a dealer since weed isn’t legal here yet. And even if it was, I’m not old enough to buy it. I had a fake ID once, but my uncle found it and cut it up. He also bruised the hell out of my face for it.
Back in the day, before I went to live with my aunt and uncle, I used to see dealers all the time, hanging out on street corners, in front of the school, sometimes in our living room. But I never did drugs until I moved in with my uncle, and I have no idea how to even find a dealer. Unless these guys deal. Do mobsters deal drugs?
Hunter smiles at the look on my face. “Where’s your head at, little raven? Because you look confused, like you’re thinking too hard, and it’s really adorable.”
“I’m never a
dorable,” I argue, but he only grins. “Whatever.” I sigh. “I was just thinking—or, well, wondering—where I’m going to get my stash if my uncle doesn’t hide drugs in our attic anymore.” I arch my brows at him and say sarcastically, “Pretty damn adorable, right?”
“Definitely.” He wiggles his hand from mine then slings his arm over my shoulders. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. Zay and I’ll take care of you.”
“Why?” I question. “Are you guys a bunch of potheads?”
He dismisses my question with a flick of his wrist. “Nah, we just like to have fun occasionally.”
“Only occasionally, huh?” I tease, looking up at him.
He gives an exaggerated nod then leans in and whispers, “If it were up to me, I’d have fun twenty-four seven, but big brother up there”—he nods at Jax—“is a total buzzkill. Seriously, he’s all about working … and blah … blah … blah …” He flaps his hand, making talking motions.
“You know I can hear you, right?” Jax calls out without looking back at us.
Hunter’s eyes go mockingly wide. “Shit, now I’m gonna be grounded.”
I giggle, the sound echoing down the hallway, again reminding me how ungodly huge this place is.
“Is this really you guys’ house?” I glance around at the cathedral-like ceiling.
“Yep.” He pulls me closer to his side. “All our names are on the deed and everything.”
I stare at him in awe. “I just … How is that possible? I mean, you’re eighteen for crying out loud. You can’t own a house yet.”
His eyes sparkle as he leans in. “Says who?”
“Says the rest of us almost eighteen-year-olds who own nothing but shoes.”
“Some own bigger stuff, like cars.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t. I don’t even know how to drive.”
He slows to a stop, his eyes widening. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
I give a shrug. “Sorry, but I’m not. It’s not that big of a deal, though. I’m only seventeen. Well, soon I’ll be eighteen, but …” I shrug again, unsure of what else to say.
He stares at me unfathomably. “Why hasn’t anyone taught you yet?”
I shift my weight, hyperaware that Zay has stopped just a ways down the hallway and is listening. “Well, I asked my aunt once, but she said she didn’t have time.” Actually, she said she didn’t want to waste her time trying to teach an idiot to drive, but I leave that part out. “And there’s nobody else to ask except Dixie May, but she’s already been in, like, five accidents already, so I didn’t think it was a good idea to learn from her. Plus, like I said, we don’t get along. At all.”
Zay backtracks toward us. “What about your uncle?”
I glance at him. “What about him?”
His lean arms flex as he crosses them. “Why didn’t you ever ask him to teach you? He’s a cop. I’m sure he knows how to drive pretty well.”
My lips tug downward and my hand drifts to my side. “My uncle and I … our relationship is complicated, hence the reason I threw his name out to you guys.”
“Yeah, but why?” Zay’s dark eyes search mine. “What’s he done to you that made his name almost instinctive when we asked you who we should take care of? I mean, it basically rolled off your tongue— ” he snaps his fingers—“just like that.”
My fingers curl around my side. “Is that really important?”
He nods, his gaze blazing with the same intensity I saw earlier, right before he made Hunter drag me out of the school. “It is. And you want to know why?” He waits for me to answer and part of me wants to shake my head, a little afraid of the answer. Instead, I find myself nodding. A grin curls at his lips. “Because, when we punish someone, we like to make sure the punishment fits the crime. So whatever your uncle has done to you, we want to do the same to him. Only maybe we’ll do it a little bit deeper, make him bleed a little bit more, drag out the pain a little bit longer.”
I gulp down a shaky breath. “What if I told you all he did was call me names?”
“You don’t throw out a name like that without having some deep issues with the person.” He inches toward me. “So, tell me, princess, how did he hurt you?”
My heart thunders in my chest for a flash of a second as I actually contemplate telling someone about that god-awful day.
“I …” My words fade as a series of beeps echo through the air.
“Shit,” Hunter curses, sticking his hand into his pocket.
Zay does the same thing, and then both of them take out their phones.
I’m about to ask what’s going on when Jax announces from the other end of the hallway, “We’ve been summoned by The Bosses.”
The Bosses? How very mobster-ish.
“But why?” Hunter gripes, clutching his phone. “I’d way rather go take care of her uncle.”
“It’s fine,” I say, although a twisted part of me was really looking forward to whatever they were going to do. “I probably shouldn’t have asked you guys to do anything to him anyway.”
“No, you should’ve,” Hunter assures me, grazing his knuckles across my jawline. “And don’t pout. We’re still going to take care of him. It’ll just have to be tomorrow.”
“Why?” I pry. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
Hunter’s lips part, but Jax talks first as he walks toward us.
“We can’t tell you about that yet.” He stops beside Hunter. “Not until you take the oath.”
I pull a confused face. “Oath?”
“We all had to take it.” Hunter turns to look at his reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall while Zay fixes his tie then runs his hands across the top of his head.
Why are they getting all primpy? Just where are they about to go?
“What kind of oath is it?” I try to pry more information from them, to no avail.
“We’ll explain that tomorrow,” Jax answers as he sends a text message. “Right now, we need to go.”
Hunter turns around to face us again. “Are we dropping her off on our way?”
Jax shakes his head as he stuffs his phone into his pocket. “No, I’m having Zee drive her.”
Hunter nods. “Good idea.”
“Who the heck is Zee?” I interrupt.
“Our driver,” Hunter answers simply, like it’s totally not a big deal that they have a driver.
“Oh. Okay. Cool.” I have no idea what else to say.
This is all so weird. They’re so weird. This freakin’ day is so weird. But who am I to judge them?
I mean, I am the girl who was accused of killing her parents and couldn’t even remember doing it. That’s beyond weird. And creepy. And scary.
Freak.
Loser.
Murderer.
I hate myself.
When Jax’s phone beeps again, he turns to Zay and Hunter. “That’s probably Zee. One of you walk her out front. I need to go grab some stuff.” He gives a quick glance in my direction then walks past me without even saying goodbye.
“I’ll walk her out,” Hunter volunteers with a trace of a smile.
Zay promptly shakes his head. “You go grab our stuff. I’ll walk her out.”
“Oh, fine.” He pouts for a microsecond, but then his smile returns as his gaze slides to me. “I’ll see your beautiful face tomorrow.” Then he leans in and kisses me on the forehead. My brows rise to my hairline in surprise, and he chuckles, saying, “So cute,” before walking away.
Zay sighs then shakes his head before nodding for me to follow him. “Come on, princess; let’s get you home.”
I walk beside him as he starts down the hallway. “You know, I really think if you’re set on giving me a nickname, you should come up with one better than princess. It doesn’t fit me at all.” I also want to point out that from what Hunter said, he usually doesn’t give nicknames to people, but I don’t want to rat out Hunter.
He casts a mildly amused sidelong glance. “I think it does.”
I scrunch u
p my nose. “I think you’re wrong. Princess seems like a nickname for someone who’s high maintenance, and I’m not. At all.”
“You’re not, huh?” he mocks as we reach a set of wide doors. “I’ve only known you for a day, and I’ve already had to jump into a freezing river to save your ass.”
I let out a groan. “Do we really have to go over this again?”
“Hey, you’re the one who thanked me for saving you.” He smirks at me then turns toward an alarm box on the wall and pushes a series of buttons. When the locks to the doors click, he reaches over and opens a door, peering out first before stepping outside.
I follow him out, folding my arms around myself as the chilly night air nips at my skin. Then I peer around in awe at the wraparound porch lined with wide columns and the driveway that curves around in front and leads to a tall, iron, gated entrance.
“This place is so freakin’ huge,” I mutter as I follow Zay off the porch and to a dark car with tinted windows parked in the arched driveway just in front of the house. Then I turn back around to get a good look at the place.
It’s dark, but several porch lights are on, so I can still take in the two-story mansion lined with shutters and one of the biggest garages I’ve ever seen.
“It looks better in the daylight,” Zay says, observing me observing the house. “But the best part about it is its seclusion.”
I glance back at him. “Yeah, you guys seem to like your privacy. I guess I can kind of understand why. Well, sort of. I’m still a little bit confused about this whole five mafia families’ thing. I mean, are all of you like rivals with each other? Or do you work together?”
Zay snorts a laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “We definitely don’t work together. But we’re not entirely rivals either. We just have a…” He wavers. “A mutual understanding, I guess is the best way to describe it. And as long as one of the groups doesn’t do anything to piss off another, everything is fine. Unfortunately, a lot of us get off on pissing people off.”
“I’m guessing you’re one of those people,” I say with a conniving grin.
He raises his brows insinuatingly. “Like you’re not.”
The Raven Four: Books 1-2 Page 13