The one Crow bastard I want to hear from has gone radio silent and I have no way of contacting him.
Colton swears they’re looking for Ethan, but he’s been tight-lipped about the details. I asked him for Wren’s real number, figuring he’d be the easy one to ply since he’s so flirtatious and friendly, but he’s harder to crack than Levi.
I touch the cheek Wren kissed, imagining the phantom warmth of his lips. For a man so hard in every other aspect, his lips are smooth. It’s his tongue that’s sharp enough to cut. Heat pricks the back of my neck when I picture what a tongue that lethal could do to other parts of my body. Dropping my hand, I shake my head, disappointed in myself for wishing I knew what kissing him was like.
I’ve stewed through the two long classes on my schedule. Now that they’re done for the day, I’m meeting up with Isla on the quad. She texted five minutes ago to let me know she’s waiting in our usual spot.
The late afternoon sun filters through the trees on my way there, painting the cobblestone path in dappled light. It’s still early in September, but the leaves are turning shades of red, yellow, and orange. This is my favorite time of year in Maine, but my enjoyment of anything has dwindled while I worry about Ethan. Almost two more weeks have passed since I petitioned the Crows for help, creeping closer to the three month mark since I’ve seen or heard from him.
My phone buzzes with an incoming call in the pocket of my leather jacket. Releasing a groan, I dig it out and squeeze my eyes shut when I see it’s Mom.
I hover my thumb over the accept and decline options indecisively, finally pressing answer at the last second. “Hey. Sorry, I just got out of class.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. How was your day? Wednesday schedule, right—just the two classes?”
I bite the tip of my tongue. She’s so great about remembering little things. Dad was forgetful, but she always had his back up to the day we terminated his life support.
My voice comes out thin when I answer. “Yup.”
“I just wanted to check in. The ladies at the support group have organized a Paint and Sip party.”
I gulp hard and hug an arm across my waist. It’s good that she has her widows support group to lean on. I just fucking hate myself for creating that reality for her.
“Sounds great. Send me a picture of what you make.”
My throat burns when she laughs, light and unburdened. If only she knew…
“It’ll probably come out abstract. You know how wine goes to my head. But it sounds fun.” There’s a faint sound of her bracelets clinking. I can easily picture the way she always twirls her wrist when she’s brushing something off. “Anyway, I just wanted to see if you heard anything from your brother yet. He still hasn’t returned my calls. Is this another long work trip?”
Hot pain stings my eyes and my vision goes blurry. I clear my throat and get myself under control, reaching for a white lie like I always do with her. “Not yet. I’ll tell him his days are numbered if he doesn’t call you soon.” The attempt at humor falls flat to my ears, the unsettling nightmare from Sunday night filling my head. “Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m on my way to meet up with a friend to study. Have fun painting tonight.”
Mom hums. It has a bittersweet edge to it instead of her bubbly positivity. “Your dad would be so proud of you, Rowan. You know that, right? I know things were hard after the accident and all that pain resurfaced when we let him go, but look how hard you’ve worked to finish your degree.”
The breath that rattles out of me almost knocks me to my knees. My gaze flies around to the other students on the path with me. Self-loathing slithers over me from head to toe, oily and slick.
God, I hate myself. Between seeking out help from the Crows, getting sucked into their orbit, and worrying about Ethan, I haven’t thought about Dad in days.
Guilt is different when you forget about it, coming back with renewed force when it crosses your mind again.
A dark corner of my brain questions why I should think about the dead. It’s the same part that whispers that I’m a monster for what I did.
“Yeah, Mom.” Hopefully she doesn’t hear the strain in my voice. “I know. Bye.”
Because I’m a coward, I end the call before she can respond, hastily shoving my phone back into the pocket of my jacket. My knees wobble, but I keep my head on without breaking down in the middle of campus.
Thankfully the universe serves me a much needed distraction in the form of my friend waving at me from the long strip of grass in the center of the square. Other students dot the lawn, enjoying the warm afternoon. I surreptitiously swipe beneath my eyes, hoping my eyeliner and mascara haven’t smeared from the tears that escaped while I was pulling myself together at the seams.
“No shadows today?” Isla asks when I reach her on the quad. I shrug, not caring. She glances around as if they’re lurking behind a tree or some other edgy emo boy shit Levi would be likely to pull. “Girls’ study date, then. This is nice, it’s been days since I’ve had you to myself. Come on.”
We reach the sun-warmed grass and I collapse on it before she sets up the blanket. The urge to curl into a ball and shut out the world is almost unbearable.
“I know you live in black jeans, but you can still get grass stains. Get your ass on this blanket.” Isla prods me with the pointed toe of her stiletto.
I do as she says with a faint groan and sit for a moment before unpacking my notes. The words run together while I listen to her chatter.
“I love the class so much,” she huffs, flipping a mass of thick chocolate wavy hair over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t have to study as hard as I do now. My body knows how to move. The professor assumed I had some training, but my parents never let me do ballet. I want to switch majors and take more dance classes, but when I brought it up at the club, Dad shut me down hard. He said I’m close to finishing undergrad, so I’m not changing the path I’m on.”
“Screw your dad.” I tap a pen against my notebook. “This isn’t an era where men get to dictate what women do.”
“He’ll hold my trust fund hostage if I don’t listen to him. It’s his favorite way of controlling my willful whims as he likes to call them.” Isla worries her plump lower lip, bright blue eyes solemn. “He said he doesn’t care if I feel like I was born to dance.”
“Seriously, fuck that.” I reach over to squeeze her wrist. “Follow your heart, girl. Money isn’t everything. Come crash on my shitty couch if it comes down to it. We’ll find you a job, it’ll be fine.”
The sadness clears from her face, overtaken by determination. “You’re right. You’re so right! I love you.”
She leans over to plant a kiss on my cheek and flips off a group of guys throwing a football nearby who ask if they can have one too. Settling on the blanket with a textbook, she kicks off her heels. I roll onto my stomach to keep from picking at the loose threads at the holes in my skinny jeans instead of going over my assignments.
Focusing on studying is impossible. I get through a page of planning a research paper before my mind drifts. The sense of dread from my dream keeps getting its claws in my thoughts. The lack of action on the Crows’ part is only adding to my frustration. I kept up my end of our deal.
If they don’t do anything, I’m taking matters into my own hands with my new lead. The note I found has to mean something.
A shadow falls over me in the late afternoon light. It doesn’t move. I contemplate burrowing in the crook of my arms, but Isla nudges me.
Heaving a sigh, I look up. Colton and Levi stand over me. People on the quad are staring.
“Haven’t you seen enough of me?” I snark.
“I wouldn’t say no to seeing more,” Colton teases. He quickly grows serious, which is enough to have me sitting up. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call. He wants to see you.”
The corners of my mouth pinch. “Wren?”
Levi flicks his dark eyes to Isla, then nods. I scrape my fingers through my tangled hair.
&n
bsp; “You’re coming with us.”
Levi isn’t asking. This is a summons from the asshole King Crow himself.
I brush myself off as I climb to my feet. “Raincheck on studying?”
“Of course,” Isla says. “I’m a little put out I’m not invited, boys. I thought we were bonding during lunch.”
Levi’s gaze snaps back to her.
Colton chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “Next time, gorgeous.”
I swear I hear Levi growl before he strides ahead.
“Ready?” Colton bumps his shoulder into mine.
“For what?”
“First, food. I’m starving. Then when it’s time…” His crooked grin stretches in satisfaction. “A night you’ll never forget.”
Fourteen
Wren
It took hours to get myself under control. I’m still nowhere near calm, but I’m not in danger of killing whoever I fight tonight.
By the time I make it to the location, the guys are walking up with Rowan. She laughs at Colton while Jude smirks and tucks his motorcycle helmet beneath his arm. Levi shakes his head at whatever they’re saying, but from a distance I can see the upward hitch at the corner of his mouth. My steps falter and I’m struck by how much Rowan looks like she fits right in with my brothers. Like she belongs amidst a group of monsters.
She’s wearing tight black jeans with a wide rip in one knee, a leather jacket, and a low-cut top that matches her eyes and rides up to show off a tantalizing strip of her stomach. Her hair isn’t braided today, the thick russet locks framing her face. She looks like everything I crave right now.
More than one asshole looks her way, including Colton. I nearly lose the control I worked hard to regain, overcome with the urge to show everyone admiring her who she belongs to.
I pause near the entrance to the old brick firehouse to wait for them. Word for tonight’s fight only went out an hour ago, but people already stream in. Jude jerks his chin up when he spots me, leading the others over.
“You look like shit.” Rowan’s greeting carries a sarcastic bite that makes my blood pump faster as she rakes her eyes over me.
She can bitch at me with that attitude all she wants. I see the way her gaze lingers on the stretch of my v-neck shirt over my biceps and chest. She can’t deny it.
“You don’t,” I counter, lifting a brow and taking her in with a slow drag of my eyes over every inch of her. “These are the rules: what you see inside doesn’t leave here, don’t wander off, and don’t talk to anyone who isn’t one of us. Understand?”
A sour expression settles on Rowan’s face and she folds her arms. I want to grin because all it does is give me a better view of her cleavage. Instead, I keep her locked in my stern gaze. She should be grateful I want to protect her by keeping her close.
“You’re such an uptight asshole,” she mutters.
One of the guys snorts. I swipe at my lip with my thumb and entertain the idea of dragging her ass into the ring to face off with me to see how long her feistiness would hold out before I tame her. The fantasy ends with her hair in my fist and my cock plunging into her pouty mouth. Fucking tempting.
“Yes I am. Do you understand the rules?”
She throws her arms up. “Doesn’t seem like I get much of a choice. You had your boys basically kidnap me and drag me all over the city.”
This time I can’t stop a callous grin from breaking free. “Good. You’re learning.”
“If I kidnapped you, you’d know it,” Levi cuts in. “You came willingly.”
“Can’t stop the kitten when she’s curious,” I taunt, watching the flash of irritation flicker over her beautiful features. “Admit it.”
Rowan almost lasts a full minute before grumbling under her breath. “Fine. I’m…interested to know what all the secrecy is about.”
I chuckle as we head for the door. My own curiosity tugs at me, wondering if what she sees tonight will be what she imagined or if she came up with wilder theories about us.
The inside of the firehouse is converted to accommodate our needs with a platform in the center for the fight, providing the perfect view from anywhere in the room. It’s filled with hazy cigarette smoke and the smell of sweat. Unlike the upper class audience we draw at the warehouse in the shipping district, tonight’s attendees are mostly men, bloodthirsty and ready for all out violence.
There are no rules to regulate the fight to appease the harder audience. Survival cut down to its very core.
It was supposed to be Levi in the ring again, but I’m swapping places with him. I need it to kill the restless beast rampaging inside me for retribution before it overtakes me.
We slip through the crowd and take her to a corner of the room where she isn’t likely to get in trouble. The lustful appraisals she attracts quickly become averted eyes once the men we pass meet my eyes. Levi sweeps our surroundings, always on alert for potential threat and seeking exit points.
“People are staring at us,” Rowan says.
“They always do,” I say.
It’s what power does, draws people in like a beacon. We each command that kind of attention on our own, but when the four of us are together it’s palpable in the room.
Rowan studies me like she finally sees why people fall in line around me. Coming from her, it awakens a long-dead part of myself that I haven’t felt in so long, not since before my sister died.
“Isn’t it awesome?” Pride colors Colton’s tone. He spreads his arms. “I worked out the system. The location rotates along with the kind of attendance we draw at each one. Frat boys get your typical beer-fueled slugfest, then we’ve got something more traditional for those who want the thrill of walking on the dark side while they clutch their pearls. Only we know where the next match is and who it’s for.”
Rowan covers an amused sound with her hand over her mouth. “Honestly? After all the juicy rumors, I was expecting a cult initiation meeting. Maybe a kinky sex dungeon. A fight club is kind of a let down.”
Colt’s easygoing smile falls. He looks put out that she’s not impressed. “It’s not a fight club, it’s business.”
“People have been beating the shit out of each other since the dawn of time,” Levi says in a gruff undertone, crossing his arms as he surveys the crowd. They’re growing restless, hungry for the action to start. “It’s human nature. Violence is a universal language.”
“No point in going against instinct and baser urges.” I do nothing to wrangle my smirk. People stir up the rumors about us and we let them run rampant because it serves a purpose for our reputations. “We work smarter, not harder than we have to.”
“I was expecting something more, I don’t know.” She flaps a hand. “Elaborate. Like your nightclub.”
“Nah, extravagance is so much work.” Jude scoffs and draws her close, tucking her under his arm.
She allows it. His attention flicks to me for a moment, dropping to the fist I didn’t realize I’d curled when he touched her. The curve of his mouth is the kind of devious that puts me on edge.
“This seems simple, yeah? But the most beautiful things are simple,” he continues while he lights a joint. He offers her the first drag, but she shakes her head. “And simple means controlling this is easy. We can do it in our sleep and it still keeps us flush. That way we’re free to get creative on the side.”
Not to mention feared for the secrets we strip from our guests eager to watch a bloodbath. Some nights we charge a cover fee for entry, others they pay a secret or a favor. Just like those that want an audience with us at the Crow’s Nest.
Jude and Colton keep it all vague, skirting the legality of how we operate—namely the lack thereof. In addition to the price patrons pay to play with our chaos, it’s what goes on inside under the radar that’s more interesting than the fight we use to distract from Jude’s silver-tongued conning and Colton’s hacking of any device that walks through the door. Levi and I just provide the misdirection with our fists while the real tricks go down.
/>
“Why do this if you’re all loaded?” When her question draws all four of our gazes she shrugs. “Come on, I’ve seen your car collection. You said as much the night I first came to you. That you don’t need money. You can’t tell me you’re not wiping your asses with hundreds just because you can.”
My explanation is bitten off. “I come from old money, but I don’t touch it. Everything we have has been built for ourselves as a group.”
“Wow, did I snub your ego there, big guy?” she sasses, picking up the nickname Colt likes to goad me with. A glint fills her eyes and she offers me a smile that’s all teeth. “Yeah, sorry not sorry.”
I don’t give her the reaction she wants, but my fingers twitch with the need to wrap around her throat and squeeze for every time she challenges me.
Jude chuckles and tugs her closer beneath his arm so her side is plastered against his, shoulder to hip. “Don’t be, sweetheart. It proves you can hold your own. Every guy wants that in his woman.” He traces the tip of his tongue over his lip and tilts his head to look my way. It’s how I know he’s doing this on purpose to mess with me. “It makes things more interesting between the sheets.”
Jealousy and possessiveness war for dominance, rocketing through me in a dizzying rush. My mind sears with one thing: Rowan is fucking mine.
It doesn’t matter that I know Jude’s all talk because his heart has only ever beat for Pippa since they were in high school. My mind becomes a singular force, focused only on getting him away from her.
“That’s enough.” Nostrils flaring, I bat his arm off Rowan’s shoulder and step into her until there’s no space between our bodies.
Crowned Crows of Thorne Point: A Dark New Adult Romantic Suspense Page 11