His nostrils flare, and he starts to turn around to do who the hell knows what.
“Zay, focus on driving,” Jax orders as he pushes a few buttons on his phone.
I find it a little bizarre that neither one of them have asked if I told Hunter what was wrong with my side. With Jax being so demanding about it, I thought he’d bring it up again. And Zay hasn’t brought it up either, which again, is strange.
The only thing I can think of is that Hunter somehow told them without me knowing. But that doesn’t seem possible since they haven’t been alone together … unless he managed to send them a text without me knowing. If he did, that means he lied to me.
I sneak a glance at Jax, who’s still looking at his phone, reading something on the screen. Suspicion builds inside me, and I’m about to go all interrogation on them when he sets his phone down.
“We need to talk about the rules,” he announces, sticking his hand out toward Hunter. “Before I do, though, give me the box.”
Hunter’s eyes light up. “Shit. I almost forgot about that.” Grinning at me, he opens the glovebox. “It’s present time.”
“Is it someone’s birthday?” I ask, glancing at the three of them.
Hunter shakes his head as he collects a small box from inside the glovebox. “Nope. This is an apology present.”
“No, it’s not,” Jax insists as he snatches the box from Hunter. “She just needs one. That’s all.”
“Aw now, come on, Jax. You can at least call it an apology present for breaking hers,” Hunter tells him, closing the glovebox.
“Calling it that would mean I feel sorry for breaking it, and I don’t.” He hands me the box. “Besides, the one I threw out the window was a pile of shit.”
Wait …
I glance at the box he’s holding out for me to take. A box that holds a fancy looking phone.
Confusion twirls in my mind. “You bought me a phone?”
“You don’t have to sound so sad about it.” Zay turns onto a wider road that’s lined sparsely with houses. “In fact, you should be saying thank you.”
“Why? You guys broke my old phone.” I toss Jax an accusing look. “Or you did, anyway.”
The corners of his lips quirk for a microsecond, but the look quickly evaporates. “Yeah, I did. But like I said, I’m not apologizing for it. You shouldn’t have tried to call someone.”
“Yeah, because it’s so insane of me to want to try to call for help when three guys force me into an SUV,” I quip with an eye roll. “I’ll make sure to make a mental note of that for next time that happens.”
“No,” all three of them say, startling the crap out of me.
I suspiciously glance at them. “Why do you guys all look like you’re planning on rehashing what happened yesterday?”
“We’re not.” Jax fiddles with a piercing in his brow, twisting the barbell a little. “But there’s a risk that someone else might try to do that to you. It’s how Honeyton works.”
“Because of the whole five mafia families?” I ask, though it’s not really a question. I figure that’s probably the reason.
Jax nods then urges me to take the phone. “This, though, is going to help protect you.”
I don’t take the phone, still a bit suspicious. “Why? My old one didn’t help protect me from you.”
Again, his lips barely, barely quirk. “Only because it was a pile of shit. This one”—he drops the box onto my lap—“has a tracking app, something your old phone didn’t have.”
“I’m pretty sure that ancient piece of crap didn’t even have the capability of getting apps,” Zay remarks as he pulls into an old-school looking diner with flashing neon signs.
I’m not sure why Zay is parking in front of the diner, unless he’s getting breakfast. Hopefully, he makes it quick, or else I’m going to be late for school, and then I’ll have to walk into first period while class is going, something I in no way, shape, or form want to do.
“It didn’t,” I clarify, still not picking up the box. I feel like the moment I do, I’m silently agreeing to some sort of commitment with their little circle. And yeah, I know I’m being stubborn, but I still haven’t decided if I want to do that—commit to them and follow their rules, commit to getting close to someone, to trusting anyone. “But it’s the only phone I could afford. And it made calls and texts, which is all I really need.”
Hunter glances over his shoulder at me with his brows knit. “What about your social media accounts?”
I snort a laugh. “That’s the funniest joke you’ve told yet, Blondie.”
His lips part, and then he tilts his head to the side. “Did you just call me Blondie?”
Huh, I think I did. I guess I’m not opposed to nicknames.
“Yep. And I think it’s pretty fitting.” Grinning, I wink at him.
He narrows his eyes, but it’s a playful move. “Why do I get the feeling you’re secretly making fun of me?”
“How can it be a secret if I’m doing it right in front of you?” I bat my eyelashes innocently at him.
Instead of retorting, he smiles. “Aw, look. You did listen to what I said earlier.”
I’m beyond confused. “Huh?”
His grin widens. “When I told you that if you batted your eyelashes at someone, you could get whatever you want.”
I crinkle my nose, realizing he did say that to me. “That isn’t why I batted them. And I wasn’t even trying to get anything.”
He muses over what I said, resting his arms on the back of the seat. “You’re right, but still, I think you should get something out of it for looking so damn cute. So, what do you want? New shoes? A car? How about a unicorn? I think you mentioned something about that yesterday.”
I make a big show of rolling my eyes. “Yeah, Blondie, I did, yet I still don’t have one. Guess you’re not as badass as you thought.”
His smile is so bright I swear he’s about to throw up rainbows all over me. “Give me a few days, and I’ll make it happen.” He flashes me one final grin before turning around, opening the door, and hopping out of the car.
Zay climbs out, too, as Jax flips up the seat but pauses before he gets out. “Take the phone out of the box and bring it in with you. We’ll help you set it up while we’re taking care of this other shit.” Then he gets out without waiting for me to answer, as if expecting me to do what he says.
Part of me wants to leave the box on the seat, wants to keep my ass planted where I am, wants to put up a good protest, be badass, stubborn Raven. Because, while I’ve spent a lot of time being lonely, I’ve never wanted to be the sort of girl who just follows other people around. I was taught to be tougher than that.
Like how my dad taught me how to throw a mean right hook, he also taught me how to be independent, to not rely on people, which has come in handy over the years.
But as I get out of the car, I start to wonder if maybe I was just really good at being by myself because it was my only option. Or maybe I’m just curious about these guys. Or maybe the loneliness has finally broken me.
Broken.
My uncle hasn’t carved that word into my flesh yet, but it probably belongs there.
Raven
“Holy crap, it smells amazing in here,” I say as I follow Zay and Hunter into the diner with Jax trailing along behind us.
The place is pretty empty, except for a waitress standing behind the counter and an old man drinking coffee in one of the leather corner booth. The air smells like coffee and waffles, and I breathe in the scent as I wander farther inside with my new phone in hand, waiting for it to power up.
I felt kind of stupid when I had to ask Hunter how to turn it on, but it’s way fancier than I’m used to and I couldn’t figure it out. Hunter smiled when I grudgingly asked for help and made a remark about me being cute before showing me which button to hold down.
I’m quickly realizing that, out of all of them, Hunter’s the one who’s going to be the nicest to me. Although, he does have a mean streak.
I briefly witnessed it when we were at the bridge. But I don’t think he’s nearly as intense as Zay, and definitely not as intense as Jax. And unlike Jax, Hunter is a rulebreaker. I can still feel him on my lips when he broke the rules only a handful of minutes ago.
Zay seems like a rulebreaker, too. And I definitely am, which makes me question what’s the point of even having rules. Not that I’ve even agreed to attempt to follow their circle’s rules. Or to even be a part of their circle. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. But deep down, I’m starting to grow curious. Curious about them. About their group. About what it would be like to have friends. Or, well, people to talk to.
As I wander inside the diner, my phone screen lights up with a message about entering the login info for my account. Since I don’t have one, I move to tap the new user button, but Hunter lightly swats my hand away.
“Jax already set one up for you when he purchased the phone and linked it to our account.” He drapes his arm around my shoulders. “We’ve got you, little raven.”
I scrunch up my nose. “But, doesn’t that mean you can, like, see all the calls and texts I make and monitor stuff on my phone?”
“Yep. Which is exactly how I want it.” Jax steps up beside me, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. Then he looks at Hunter. “Help her set it up while you guys order. I gotta talk to Quinn for a few minutes.”
Hunter snickers. “By talk, don’t you mean fuck with her head and body?”
Jax shrugs, his gaze briefly zeroing in on Hunter’s arm over my shoulders. “Make sure to keep your hands to yourself,” he warns before heading past the scuffed-up tables and red leather booths and toward a hallway tucked in the far back corner near the labeled bathroom area.
I arch a brow at Hunter. “He’s going to have sex with someone in the bathroom?”
Hunter removes his arm from my shoulders and takes my phone from me. “Kinda.”
Question marks swirl through my mind. “How can you kinda have sex with someone?”
He pauses from typing in my login info and glances up at me then at Zay. “You wanna handle this one? Or should I? ’Cause, while I love talking about sex, I’m not a fan of explaining the fucked-up complication that is Jax’s sex life.”
Zay rolls his eyes. “Like yours isn’t complicated?”
“I never said it wasn’t. I just said that I don’t want to explain Jax’s to her,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I got account info to put in, waffles to order, and a unicorn to find. It’s gonna be a long, hard day for Blondie.” He flashes me a grin, and I shake my head but smile.
Zay grimaces, irritation masking his expression. “Fine, I’ll try to explain it to her.”
“Or you could just not,” I suggest. “I don’t really need to know.” But I’m kind of curious. Not that I’m going to admit that aloud, because yeah, that’d be fucking weird.
“Actually, you kind of do,” Zay tells me while Hunter wanders toward the counter.
I shake my head as Hunter says something to a woman standing behind the counter. She isn’t dressed in a waitress uniform so I’m unsure who she is. “Ever heard the term TMI?” I tell Zay.
“Yeah, but if you’re going to be living with us, you’re going to have a lot of questions when night rolls around.” He draws the hood of his jacket off his head and scrubs his hand over his short brown hair.
With his hood off, the scar on his jawline is more visible, reminding me of the dream… memory… whatever the hell it was that filled my sleep last night.
I need to find out what it is. Somehow.
“Why would I move in with you?” I ask. “That’s crazy talk right there.”
“Like Hunter didn’t already make you the offer.” Zay puts his hand at the small of my back and urges me to follow Hunter as he walks away from the counter and swings around the tables, heading toward a corner booth.
I frown. “How do you know he did?”
“Because we discussed it last night,” he says as he steers me past the empty tables. “And we know everything each other has done or did.”
“That sounds weird and complicated.”
“It is. Everything about us is, including you. And it’s going to be really fucking complicated when you move in with us.”
“Just because you guys discussed it, that doesn’t mean I’m just going to move in with you. It’s too … weird.” Weird might be an understatement.
“Weird or not, it’s going to happen,” he states matter-of-factly. “You’ll want to eventually. And when you do, you should be prepared for the shit that goes on, ’cause we’re not going to tone it down just because some girl’s living with us.”
My brow curves upward. “Worried I’m gonna ruin your bachelor pad?”
His eyes darken. “No, I’m worried you’re going to freak out when you hear screaming in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t freak out that easily.” I pause as what he said registers. “Wait. Screaming in the middle of the night? You guys got some sort of torture dungeon in that mansion of yours?”
“Kind of.” He scans my expression then leans in, putting his lips beside my ear. “It’s probably not the kind of dungeon you’re thinking of. It’s more of a playroom for Jax’s complicated sex life.”
“You know, I think you’re trying to shock me right now, but it’s not working,” I tell him as I slide into the booth with Hunter, putting myself directly across from him.
Zay sinks down beside me and drapes an arm along the back of the seat just behind me, the smell of cigarettes and cologne mixing with the scent of breakfast lingering in the air. “I doubt that with how innocent your mind is.”
I roll my eyes as I scoot over and put a bit of space between us. “I’m far from innocent, and I think you know that, considering you read all about me and my messed-up mind.”
“Yeah, you’re definitely messed up in the head,” he agrees. “But in some ways, you’re really innocent. You’ll have to get over that, though, if you’re going to be part of our circle.”
“Again, I never agreed to be part of your circle.” I eyeball the menus on the table as my stomach grumbles, but since I didn’t bring any money, I don’t pick one up.
Apparently, Hunter finds my stomach grumbling amusing because he glances up from my phone with a big old grin on his face. “Hungry? Or did you eat a baby gremlin this morning?”
“It was the latter,” I lie, not wanting to let on that I’m starving. “And it was delicious.”
He chuckles, shaking his head, then returns his attention back to my new phone. “So fucking adorable.”
I give him a dirty look. “Stop saying that …” I trail off as a younger woman with red hair, wearing a fancy black dress and heels, approaches the table. She has a smile on her face, but it’s far from friendly. She also looks familiar, but I can’t place from where.
“Boys,” she greets the guys as she comes to a stop beside the table.
And just like that, the air around the guys changes, shifts, tenses, both Hunter and Zay going rigid as they glance up at her.
Hunter pales as he clutches my phone. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks in a startlingly clipped tone.
“I come bearing a message.” Her eyes stray to me. “But I was also a little curious to see what all the fuss is about.”
Zay slides his arm underneath the table and into his pocket. When he pulls his hand out, he’s holding a pocketknife. “There’s no fuss, so give us your message and get the hell out of here. This isn’t your territory.”
“Thank God for that,” the woman replies with a repulsed face as she peers around the diner. “This place is a dump. It’s part of the reason it was even given to you—because no one wanted it. Seems pretty symbolic if you ask me.”
Wait … Does that mean these guys own the diner?
What the actual shit?
Zay sets the knife on the table. “Tell us the message and get the hell out of here before we make you.”
T
he woman rolls her eyes, but a drop of nervousness resides in her expression as she fleetingly glances at the knife. “Whatever. Like I even want to be here. I’m just doing my job.”
“You mean, your job of playing my dad’s whore?” Hunter smirks at her. He seems to have collected himself but still appears mildly pale.
Just who is this woman? His dad’s mistress maybe? If it is, I feel sorry for him.
“Aw now, don’t be jealous.” The woman extends her perfectly manicured fingers toward him, and Hunter swallows hard.
“If you touch him, I’ll slit your throat, Diane.” Jax appears behind her with his arms crossed.
The woman—Diane—stiffens as she lowers her hand. Fear illuminates in her eyes, but she hastily collects herself before turning to face him and plastering on a sugary sweet smile. “Jax, so lovely of you to join us.”
Jax stares her down hard. “Wipe that stupid smirk off your face, tell us the message, and get out before I make you get out.”
She puts her hands on her hips. “Whatever. You’re all just a bunch of spoiled brats.”
“Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?” Hunter mumbles with a frown.
She glowers at him before she again collects herself, smoothing her hands over her dress. Then her attention locks on Jax. “I was sent here to deliver a very important message, but it has to be in private, which is why he didn’t send you a text.”
“Go ahead and tell me,” Jax demands. “You know whatever you tell me, I’ll tell my circle.”
“Yeah, but she”—she flicks a glance at me—“isn’t part of your circle, is she?”
Jax’s gaze sweeps across me then looks back at Diane. “Fine. Come with me.” Then he starts across the diner again, heading toward the hallway that he went into earlier.
Once she’s gone, Hunter lets out a shaky exhale.
“Who is she?” I ask, looking at him.
His frown deepens. “My stepmom.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say. “She looks young.”
“She is young,” Hunter mutters, slumping back in the seat. “My dad only likes younger women.”
The Raven Four: Books 1-2 Page 23