The Raven Four: Books 1-2

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The Raven Four: Books 1-2 Page 15

by Jessica Sorensen


  But while he said he could handle it, it’s pretty fucking clear he couldn’t, since he’s cradling his arm now.

  He probably cut a little too deep.

  Fuck, this isn’t good.

  And I want to say something to him, but again, remind myself that now isn’t the time.

  When I don’t say anything, Zay glares at me. “If I say I got it, then I got it,” he snaps, slumping back in the seat.

  “Okay.” I let it drop for now and direct my attention back to the road. “And rule number four—”

  “God, there’s another one?” Hunter groans, pinching the brim of his nose.

  I ignore him, continuing, “We need to look more into her past. Zay, I know you got some information on her, but I want to know everything about her.” I flip on the blinker to make a turn onto a driveway. “If we’re going to let her into our inner circle, we need to make sure she is who she says she is. Because, if she ends up somehow tied to one of our enemies, she could mess up our freedom waiting for us at the end of the school year. And that’s not something I’m willing to risk just to help some girl make it through a year here. I’ll feed her to the wolves if it means we get our freedom, understand?”

  “That’s harsh, man,” Hunter mutters.

  “Harsh is what I need to be,” I say, feeling a hint of guilt over what I’m saying, but I shove it down with the rest of my feelings.

  Feelings I never let out. It’s what I’ve been trained to do. To bottle up everything inside me. To be in control. I spent a lot of my childhood not being in control, my father and mother controlling my every move. When Zay, Hunter, and I moved in together and I got a taste of freedom, I took all of the control back that was taken from me. Now, I’m the one that does the controlling.

  Hunter heaves a sigh. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. We come first. We always have.”

  As silence skips by, I glance back at Zay. “You good with these rules and looking into her more?” I ask as I slow to a stop in front of the gate to my father’s three-story house.

  All the porch lights are on, lighting up the night, yet the place carries so much darkness for me.

  Zay nods, but for a crazy second, I swear I see him hesitate.

  What the hell?

  “You didn’t find something out about her already, did you?” I question as I put the car into park, but I don’t buzz us in right away.

  Instead I take out my flask and down a few gulps, knowing I’m going to need it to stay calm. Because I need to stay calm or else I’ll lose control. And when I lose control bad shit happens, which is why I’ll do anything not to lose my control.

  Zay wavers. “The place Raven and her family lived when she was younger was in Kingsley’s territory, but I couldn’t find any connection between them and Raven’s family, so I think it’s okay. Plus, her last name is Wilowwynter, which I’ve never heard of before.”

  “I hope so. But we should look into it more just to be safe.” Because if Raven is somehow connected to the Kingsley name, she’s definitely not going to be a part of our circle since the Kingsleys are the Capperellies’ number one and pretty much only constant rival.

  The used to be a part of our town until they moved to the city. But we still have no association with them, and it's an unsaid rule that if you do, you'll be punished.

  But all my worries about Raven dissipate as the gates open. They’re technically the gates to my father’s place, but for me, Hunter, and Zay, they feel more like the gates to Hell.

  Hunter

  Jax and his stupid rules. It’s driving me crazy. Yeah, I get that he’s always kind of been the “boss” of our group, but only because he likes to boss everyone around. We don’t technically have a leader, and it’s worked for us since none of us have ever been good at following rules.

  When we were younger, we used to get in trouble all the time. We still do, but I’ve learned how to sweet-talk my way out of stuff, like this morning with Mrs. Elmford, the secretary at the high school. No matter how many times she acts like she’s going to turn down my request for a pass to get out of class, she always ends up giving me one. Every single time. It’s why I was so thrown off when I tried to flirt with Raven in the office and she basically turned me down. Not that I ever gave up. No, I’m pretty damn persistent, especially when I meet the most amusing, gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.

  For the most part, I like that I’m this way—can charm anyone—but when things get serious, I struggle to keep the darkness inside me. It happens occasionally, and I’ve had a few breakdowns. Jax and Zay have seen me at some of my worst moments, and it wasn’t pretty. But nothing about my life has been pretty.

  Between the ages of eleven and thirteen, darkness mostly surrounded me. The few exceptions were when I was around Zay and Jax. They’re the reason I escaped the darkness—escaped her. My stepmother, who is still my stepmother, but I rarely see her. At least when I get my way. But tonight, things don’t seem to be going my way, something I realize as Jax, Zay, and I enter the spacious meeting room in his father’s house.

  A long, mahogany table runs up the center of the room in front of a fireplace, surrounded by chairs and surveillance cameras. And sitting in one of the chairs is Diane, my wicked witch of a wench stepmother.

  She’s wearing a red dress, a leather jacket, and a diamond necklace. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess she was going out clubbing, but this is how she always looks—overly dressed with sparkly things decorating her. She’s kind of a sparkly thing herself, being about fifteen years younger than my father. The only reason she married him was for his money and power. She doesn’t love him, doesn’t care that he sleeps around, doesn’t care about anything except what she wants. And she’ll do anything to get it.

  Anything.

  “Boys,” she greets us, her eyes lingering on me. My stomach churns when she smiles at me.

  I hate when she looks at me. I often dream about a day when I can gouge out her eyes so she can never look at anyone again. But my father has made a rule that she’s off limits, and if we break any of our fathers’ rules right now, Jax, Zay, and I aren’t getting out of this hell at the end of our senior year. And we want out more than we want anything else.

  I really should’ve done a line before we left, but we were in rush.

  But fuck, I can’t deal with this—her—with a clear head.

  “Why’re you here?” Zay glares at her as he sinks down into a chair.

  She flips her red hair off her shoulder. “I’ve been summoned on behalf of your bosses. They wanted to speak to you themselves, but they had other things that needed to be taken care of tonight.”

  The bosses are our dads, but we refer to Jax’s dad, the leader, as The Boss. They’re all straight-up crazy and not anyone you want to piss off.

  “Whatever,” Zay mumbles while Jax takes a seat at the head of the table.

  Me? I stay in the doorway.

  When Diane notices, she crooks a manicured finger at me. “Come sit down, sweetie. There’s some things I need to discuss with all of you.”

  My jaw ticks. “I fucking told you not to call me that.”

  “Call you what?” she feigns dumb, tilting her head to the side.

  “Oh, shut the hell up. You know exactly what I mean.” As anger sears under my skin, she grins, getting off on it.

  “That’s enough,” Jax interrupts, his intimidating gaze zeroing in on Diane. Then he leans over, pulls his gun out from his ankle holster, and sets it down on the table. “I’m going to tell you this once and only once. Stop wasting my time and tell us the message you have for us. And don’t look at Hunter. Look at the fireplace and nothing else. If you don’t, I’ll break those painted fingers of yours right off your hands.”

  She glares at him. “How dare you talk to me like that? When your father hears about this—”

  Jax cuts her off with a dark laugh. “If you think my father gives a shit about you, then you’re stupider than I thought.” He uses his gun to point at t
he fireplace. “Now look over there and let’s get this over with. I’ve got other shit to do tonight.”

  Gritting her teeth, Diane glares at the fireplace.

  A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. Jax may sometimes piss me off, but no one has my back like he does.

  But then my mood instantly nosedives when Diane says, “Your bosses, especially The Boss, want me to talk to you guys about the new sheriff and his family.”

  Yeah, I definitely should’ve done a line before we left the house. But I didn’t so now I’m stuck dealing with whatever’s about to happen without numbing bliss consuming my mind.

  Zay

  For once, I’m not the only one riled up. Hunter has been practically crawling out of his skin since he saw Diane in the meeting room. I don’t blame him, though, for acting this way. The woman is more messed up in the head than almost everyone I’ve ever met, right next to my dad.

  The scars my dad put on my body … the things he used to do to me … they still scar my mind and body. It’s why I can barely stand touching or getting touched by anyone, which is why no one can make sense out of why I decided to hold Raven’s cold body against mine. I can’t even make sense of it.

  All I know is that, when she jumped, something broke inside me. I was reminded of the day I stood up on the roof of my father’s building with thoughts of jumping. The only reason my feet never left the roof was because Jax and Hunter found me and talked me out of it.

  They’ve always been there for me, and part of me wonders if I’d still be here if I didn’t have them in my life.

  Some of the stuff Raven said … about being alone … the scars on her wrist and side I noticed when I held her … the pain she must feel … I can relate to it too much. Both the emotional pain of it and the physical. In fact, I can feel the physical pain of it right now, burning on my flesh as the fresh wounds that cover my arms rub against the inside of the sleeve of my shirt.

  It’s been a while since I’ve cut, but when we arrived home after spending the entire drive with my bare chest against Raven’s, I was beyond worked up. My head was a mess, and either I was gonna have to beat the shit out of someone, or cut the shit out of myself. Since no one was around to be my punching bag, I settled on the latter. And I felt better for a while, but now… being here… I’m all worked up again.

  “What about the sheriff?” Jax asks, wrenching me from my thoughts of my internal misery.

  Diane continues to stare at the fire while restlessly thrumming her fingers against the table. “The Boss wants you to find out more about him. He wants to know his weaknesses—stuff he can use against him if he can’t be bought off.” She crosses her legs. “He also wants to know more about his family. From what he understands, he has a daughter around you guys’ age. He also has a niece who lives with him that’s around your age, too. And he wants info about why she’s living with him. And I’m not talking about the basic stuff you can learn from rumors. He wants inside information about the living situation and inside info about the girl, which means you three are going to have to get close to her.”

  I stiffen. Why do our bosses want to know about Raven …? Does it have to do with me feeling like I know her?

  Fuck, what the hell is going on?

  Jax trades a cautious look with Hunter and me before looking back at Diane. “Why does he want to know about the sheriff’s niece? I can understand wanting to know more about the sheriff, but why bring this girl into it?”

  Diane lifts a shoulder. “How the hell should I know? I’m just here to repeat the message and give you instructions.” She rises to her feet, still staring at the fire as she crosses the room toward the doorway. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other things to do besides playing babysitter for you spoiled brats. Just make sure you do what the bosses want.”

  Hunter sidesteps from the doorway as she nears him. Then his fingers curl into fists as she slips a smile in his direction before walking out of the room.

  “She’s such a crazy bitch,” Hunter mumbles through a shaky exhale.

  “She is,” Jax agrees, drumming his fingers against the table with his thinking face on.

  I know where his thoughts are. Or, well, I have a pretty good idea.

  I shove the sleeves of my shirt up and rest my arms on top of the table. “Why do you think the bosses want to know more about Raven?”

  Jax shrugs, glancing at me. “I have no idea, but I’m sure it’s not for something good.”

  “I know.” I give a considering pause. “So, what’re we going to do?”

  Jax shrugs again. “What we have to do.”

  Hunter frowns. “We can’t just throw Raven under the bus like this.”

  “I’m not saying we’re going to,” Jax tells him, reclining back in the chair. “But we were already going to look into her. Now we’re just doing it for him and for us.”

  Hunter’s lips part in protest, but Jax elevates his hand, silencing him.

  “You know our deal with the bosses,” Jax reminds him. “If we don’t do what they ask for the next six months, we’ll end up buried in this town. Is that what you want? To be stuck here, seeing Diane all the time?”

  Hunter reluctantly shakes his head. “No.”

  “Okay then.” Jax lowers his hand.

  “But Raven’s one of us now,” Hunter says, crossing the room and sitting down at the table. “We’re breaking the rules if we do something that’ll hurt her. Plus, we’re supposed to be taking care of her uncle for her. How are we going to do that if the bosses want us looking into him more?”

  “We’ll still take care of him. We’ll just have to be more subtle about it than I was planning.” He slips his gun back into his ankle holster. “And we’re not going to hurt Raven. We’re just going to get to know her and find out more about her. And from what Zay said, there’s not really much to look into anyway.” He looks at me, his brow arching. “Right?”

  I nod. For the most part, I’m telling the truth, except for two small things. One being that I feel like I know Raven from somewhere. I’m not sure why, but I want to keep that to myself for now, which is weird because I rarely keep things from Jax and Hunter. I haven’t told them the other thing yet, because I knew Jax would worry about it, and he needed a clear head while we were at his father’s place. I didn’t realize Diane was the only one who was going to be here. If I had known, I would’ve been more worried about Hunter.

  “There is one other thing,” I say. “I couldn’t find any info on Raven up until the age of five. Before that, it’s like she didn’t exist. So, either her family was living off the radar—which leaves me asking why—or she wasn’t with her family up until that point. Again: why?”

  A drop of worry flickers in Jax’s and Hunter’s eyes as we all trade a look. I’m guessing we’re all having similar thoughts.

  Just who is Ravenlee Wilowwynter?

  I want to find out the answer more than I probably should.

  The Raven Oath (The Raven Four, Book 2)

  The Raven Oath

  Jessica Sorensen

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Sorensen

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

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  For information: jessicasorensen.com

  Cover Design by MaeIDesign

  Created with Vellum

  Raven

  “You got that right swing down,
right?” my dad asks as we cruise down the road in his old Camaro, music blasting from his iPod shuffle, his “old man music,” as my mom calls it, playing from some speakers sitting on the back seat.

  He’s been working on fixing the car up but hasn’t gotten very far yet. The leather seats are torn, the outside is primed but not painted, and the stereo is missing.

  The windows are down, letting the warm summer breeze gust into the cab, blowing strands of my hair into my face as I nod and raise a fist in front of me. “Like this?” I swing against the air, hoping I’ve got the right form.

  My dad smiles as he lifts up his hand for a high-five, and I smile proudly as I tap my palm against his.

  “That’s the perfect form.” He removes his cigarette from his lips and ashes it out the window. “Keep it up and you might just end up becoming a fighter when you grow up.”

  “Like Momma?” I ask, crossing my fingers he’ll say yes.

  My momma is the coolest person I know. She is so tough. A lot of people think she’s my sister, but my momma tells me that they only think that because she had me when she was young. I’m not even sure why anyone thinks she’s related to me at all. She has blonde hair, where I have black; our eyes are different colors; and unlike hers, my cheeks are covered in freckles. I don’t like my freckles that much. A lot of kids tease me about them. They say I look like I have dirt on my face.

  “Yep, just like your momma.” Dad puts his cigarette out in the ashtray then looks in the rearview mirror, messing with his scraggly brown hair.

  My dad doesn’t like to dress up. He wears a lot of old T-shirts and jeans. But today, he put on nice pants and a button-down shirt. He also made me wear a dress, which yuck, I hate dresses. The one I’m wearing right now is black. I’m glad for that because I hate bright colors, like pink, even more than I hate dresses. But I still don’t get why my dad made me wear a dress or why my mom braided my hair. They usually let me do whatever I want. Today, though, they were all about me being on my best behavior while we go to wherever the heck we’re going. My dad has also checked to make sure I remember how to swing a punch, like, a ton of times.

 

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