Crowned Crows of Thorne Point: A Dark New Adult Romantic Suspense

by Veronica Eden

  The words have barely left her mouth when we both freeze at muffled voices on the other side of the wall. She grabs my hand and we run for it.

  We make it to the library late. Fox gives us a stern look, but lets it go when Isla primly tells him she had to powder her nose and change her tampon.

  What we found doesn’t leave my head and I’m left with more questions than ever about the history of this school and how it connects to my Russian stalker and my brother.

  After spending a couple of hours at the library without being able to focus, I arrive back at my apartment building, fingers twitching with the need to sink into research mode. I didn’t want to do it with Fox watching so closely in case he tipped Wren off before I could piece things together for myself.

  Levi followed me home in his SUV. Mom called when I parked and I feel awful about it, but I tune her out, only half-listening to her chat about how her Paint and Sip night went and her plans for the week. Phone pressed to my ear, I wave to him on my way into the building.

  “Mhm,” I interject at intervals to make it seem like I’m less of an asshole.

  If she knew the truth—that I killed my dad, her beloved husband—she’d never talk to me again. I swallow against the guilt eating at me as I jab the elevator button. The ride to my floor is short. When the doors open Mom’s voice fades into white noise and I gape down the hall.

  Wren and the landlord stand in front of my apartment talking. What the hell?

  “Mom? I have to go.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Have a good day. I love you.”

  “Yeah.” Hanging up, I hurry down the hall. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll make copies,” the landlord says. “Congratulations, miss.”

  Another wave of confusion washes over me.

  “Thank you.” Wren shakes the landlord’s hand and eyes me after he walks off. The door is unlocked and I shoot an accusatory look over my shoulder as I enter. He follows me inside. “You’re coming with me.”

  “Uh, okay,” I drawl. “What does that have to do with my landlord? Why did he let you in?”

  Wren stands in the middle of the cramped living room, hands in his pockets while I bustle around the chaotic mess. “To move your things out. He believed the story I fed him that we’re newlyweds. As I said, you’re coming with me.”

  I jerk to a halt, bag dropping off my shoulder into the overstuffed armchair. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Wren, what the hell is going on? What are you talking about?”

  Forcing out a tense exhale, he goes to the kitchenette and grabs my favorite coffee mug from the drying rack. A strange flutter moves through my chest. It fades to disbelief again when it sinks in that he’s serious.

  “Wait, no. I live here. This is my apartment. The lease is long-term. I have rent and utilities and—”

  Wren waves a hand. “All paid off. Pack whatever you need. Except the perishables. I’ve seen the sad state of your fridge. I have a premium grocery delivery. The quality far exceeds the cheap bullshit you’ve subsisted on. Coffee isn’t a food group, little kitten.”

  A hot flare of indignation licks at the inside of my chest. After an emotional day, this is not what I want to deal with. He’s pissing me off again.

  “Is this because I didn’t meet up with Fox when I was supposed to? I’m sorry, alright?”

  “You what?” He turns his glare to the open doorway, where the rest of his stooges have appeared, lurking with boxes.

  Even Levi. Goddamn traitors. A heads up would’ve been great, but friends or not, their loyalty lies with their bastard king first. It’s what’s inked into the scroll around the crow tattoo on Wren’s back—loyalty above all else. I traced those words yesterday in bed and today I want to drive a knife into them.

  None of them meet my eye as they enter, passing the crooked unit number without comment.

  Wren pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll discuss it after you pack. This was already in motion. Your apartment is terrible anyway.”

  I suck in a breath so fast and sharp it hurts my throat. This was the matter he was taking care of and the reason why he didn’t shadow me himself on campus?

  Stomping across the small, cluttered space, I get in his face to shout. “Shithole or not, it’s mine! And Ethan’s. You can’t just uproot me because you feel like it. This is the place I share with him, asshole.”

  Wren’s jaw works and he hands off my mug in a white-knuckled grip to Levi when he edges closer with a box. He drags a hand through his blond hair roughly, some of it falling in his face without product to slick it back. Eyes flashing with something similar to what I saw the night of the gala when his mother broke down, he takes me by the shoulders and clears his throat. It’s the only crack in his cold veneer. A glimpse of the man I spent the weekend with instead of the controlling brute who acts the way he sees fit.

  The landlord knocks on the doorframe, interrupting whatever Wren was about to say. He squeezes my shoulders, then retrieves paperwork from the landlord and hands it to me.

  “Now it isn’t.” His voice is devoid of emotion while I skim the updated lease agreement.

  Panic wells up in a rush. I clench the papers to the point of wrinkling while Colton, Levi, and Jude move around the space I shared with my brother piling our things into boxes. My breaths come too quickly, chest rising and falling. Wren turns his back on me and goes to the window where I love to write curled up in my chair.

  Something snaps inside me when Jude picks up Ethan’s thinking rock and tosses it like a baseball. I fly across the room, latching onto his wrist. My voice cracks on a frantic yell. “No! Don’t touch that. Don’t touch anything!”

  “Easy.” Jude keeps his tone even and puts the rock in my hand, curling my fingers around it. He shoots a hard look of disapproval at Wren. “I’m sorry. We’ll give you a minute. Guys.”

  Colton hugs me on his way out. “Just listen to what the big guy has to say, Ro. There’s a good reason.”

  I cradle the rock and sniffle. Everything in the apartment is exactly the same as when he left. I was too afraid to move his things because it felt like acknowledging how long he’s been gone. It’s irrational, but the last few months have felt like if I moved anything it meant he wasn’t coming back. His stuff has gathered dust as my clutter grew around it, as if I was living around the memory of him.

  The possibility I refuse to acknowledge rears in the back of my mind, but I won’t entertain the idea that he’s beyond my reach.

  With everything going on from the mysterious man stalking me to being pulled further into the Crows’ orbit, I’ve allowed myself to get distracted from finding Ethan. Shame explodes in my stomach. How could I do that?

  Guilt pokes at me like a hot iron. If I leave, it makes my irrational thought go from a possibility to a reality.

  Wren hovers in my peripheral vision, his broad frame imposing. Gulping back the lump in my throat, I lay down Ethan’s thinking rock next to his chipped mug on the coffee table.

  “Why are you doing this?” I demand without looking at him.

  He walks up behind me, chest brushing my back. “Because I do whatever needs to be done. If you still want our help—and trust me, you need it—this is what it looks like. It’s for your own good.”

  A brittle noise tears out of me. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

  “It’s already done.” Taking my hand, he puts something small in it.

  Curiosity wins out over stubbornness and I examine the object. It’s a small lens—a hidden camera. A chill runs over my body.

  “Whole place was bugged.” Wren’s voice is rough and angry. “I found this in your bedroom. You’re not staying here a minute longer, Rowan.”

  I scrub at my face, turning around. He holds out his hand and I shove the lens back at him, skin crawling at the violation of being listened to and watched without my knowledge. What makes me so special? I’m no one.

  A sickening thought races th
rough my head and I grab him. “Is my mom safe?”

  I’m the reason my dad ended up on life support and died. My brother is missing—maybe gone forever, though I’m not ready to touch that possibility. I can’t lose her, too. She’s all I have left in the world.

  Sliding his fingers in my hair, he sighs. “Yes. I sent someone down to Maryland to keep an eye on her while you were in class this morning. She’ll be protected.”

  I sink my teeth into my lip, eyes bouncing between his. It’s not an apology for what he’s doing. If anything, it seems like further justification for himself.

  Logic cuts through the storm of emotions. The apartment was violated without Ethan or I knowing about it. The guy who I’ve seen on campus twice now is bad news. I’m not safe here by myself. It’s undeniable.

  “I saw him on campus again today. He wasn’t there for me this time, so Isla and I followed him.”

  Wren stiffens and takes my phone when I pull up the video I recorded. “Why do you insist on being so goddamn reckless? You look at dangerous situations and dive in with no thought for potential consequences.”

  “I had to,” I argue. “And I’d consider you a dangerous situation, yet I still ride your dick. Get your head out of your hyper-masculine ass for two minutes and watch the video.”

  An aggravated breath gusts out of him and he starts the recording. Ten seconds in, his brows draw together, then fly up when the stalker activates the secret door.

  “See?” Wren pins me with a flat look at my smugness. I press on tiptoe to show him the photos. “Did you know about this secret room?”

  “No.”

  A knock at the door interrupts us. Colton leans in from the hall. “All good?”

  I survey the apartment, seeing every memory I’ve had with Ethan since I moved here three years ago. Heart in my throat, I pick up Ethan’s chipped lucky mug. My vision is misty, but I nod.

  “Does that mean I can pack up your underwear drawer?” he jokes as he saunters back in. A feral noise from Wren and my bitten off fuck you stop him in his tracks. Hands up placatingly, he offers me a lopsided apologetic smile. “Put me to work, babe. We’re here to help, so show us what you want packed up and what should go in storage.”

  “Storage?” It’s embarrassing how fast my throat thickens with another lump. “You’ll store it for me?”

  “Of course,” Jude says. “Home means something and we’re ripping you out of yours.”

  I offer a wobbly smile and he returns it with an understanding look.

  The four of them follow me around the small apartment, collecting whatever I point at and put it in boxes. It’s slow going work when I’m stalled by my emotions. For as controlling as Wren was when I arrived, he allows me to take my time. At one point I almost laugh because it occurs to me that some of them probably have staff for packing, but no one would suspect they weren’t used to doing it themselves.

  Little by little the apartment empties of any signs of mine and Ethan’s life here. Even though I know it makes sense to leave, a nagging feeling clawing at my gut won’t let me escape the thought that without the apartment the way he left it, Ethan won’t ever return to the home we shared again.

  Twenty-Two

  Rowan

  The penthouse is exactly what I pictured someone as arrogant as Wren Thorne living in when I first met him. It’s a lifeless and uninviting space, dominated by expensive dark furniture better suited to a modern art museum than somewhere to live and a strange sense of claustrophobia despite the open floor plan. Compared to this, I preferred Wren’s sparse room at their lair beneath the Crow’s Nest Hotel. Somehow it felt like it had more warmth in it than this penthouse.

  I stand before the rain-speckled floor-to-ceiling windows staring out at downtown Thorne Point. Fog curls around the buildings, matching my mood. The oversized cuffs of Ethan’s long sleeve university t-shirt are stretched out the more I twist the worn material around my fingers. It skims my bare thighs and I feel Wren’s piercing gaze more than once while he moves around the kitchen area.

  “You really want coffee this late?” It’s the third time he’s asked while brewing it.

  “Yes.”

  “You should eat something instead.” Coming over to hand me a steaming mug, he brushes his lips over my temple. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

  I shake my head. Colton picked up a stack of pizzas when they finished packing up my apartment, but the thought of food turns my stomach. Wren’s fingers thread through my hair as I sip coffee. I pull a face, smacking my lips. Even my favorite drink tastes like bitter emptiness.

  “Why do you live here?”

  Wren’s sigh fans warmth over the side of my face. “I told you before, I have a few properties.”

  “Wouldn’t we be better off beneath the hotel?”

  “Colt and Levi are doing security upgrades because of everything going on. For now, this is where you’ll stay.”

  There’s something off in his tone. I haven’t known him long, and he’s the king of secrets, but I’m learning to read his moods. This feels like he’s putting distance between us. There’s something he’s not telling me. After taking me from my home, he owes it to me to be truthful.

  If he refuses to tell me, I’ll find out what it is. I’ll steal a secret from the man who takes them as payment from everyone else.

  Wren stands at my side until I finish the coffee. He plucks the mug from me and sets it aside on a table with an ugly, twisted gargoyle statue.

  “Come on, kitten. Time for you to get some rest.”

  He lifts me into his arms, cradling me close to his chest. I feel so much smaller than I am next to his massive frame engulfing me. In the bedroom, he sets me down on cool luxurious sheets. He peels them back for me, but instead of getting under I sit up on my knees.

  “Are you going to find my brother?”

  Wren’s expression is an unreadable mask, partially shadowed in darkness. My resolve to discover what he’s keeping from me strengthens.

  After a moment, he answers. “Yes. We have an agreement. I won’t go back on it.”

  Relieved, I lay down, only to shoot back up when he backs away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Sleep, Rowan. You’ll be safe here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Eyes widening, I trip out of the bed, untangling myself from the messed up sheets to follow him through the penthouse. “Wait—you’re seriously leaving?”

  “No rest for the wicked.”

  I pull up short, watching him set the security system. The claustrophobic feeling intensifies, the large walls shrinking around me. I don’t want to be here alone.

  “Look, I’m not used to explaining my actions.” Wren glances at me with a frown. “This is the safest place for you right now. Believe that. Colton and Levi will attend your classes and bring your assignments for the rest of the week.”

  My jaw drops and I grab at his arm. “What the fuck, you can’t keep me locked up here!”

  With a stern expression, he corrals me out of the elevator. “Until I know I can protect you, I can.”

  The doors close in my face. I stab the button to call the elevator back, but the digital input prompting for a key code mocks me. White-hot fury races through me and I slam my palm against the door.

  I can’t believe he’s trapping me here after forcing me to leave my apartment. It’s a reminder of the rumors I first heard before I got to know him—a reminder of the cruelty he’s capable of.

  A strangled protest pulls me from sleep, heart racing, gasping harshly. Sweaty and disoriented, I forget where I am for a minute until my pulse steadies and I remember. Wren’s penthouse.

  Grumbling, I scrub my tearstained face and flop back against the tangled sheets. Flashes of the nightmare cling to me, drowning me in the inescapable shame that’s plagued me for years.

  A rainy night like tonight.

  The rumble of thunder.

  Arguing with Dad about sneaking out and getting caught.<
br />
  His hands, always his hands on the wheel. Weathered and wrinkled from a lifetime of hard work.

  Blinding headlights and the dream-like feel of floating in midair as the world tumbles in an endless swirl that leaves me dizzy.

  Worst of all, the blare of a horn that becomes the haunting beep of life support machines.

  All of it weighs down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. The nightmare never changes. It was worse when he was still kept alive in a vegetative state, plaguing me nightly. Fresh tears burn a path from the corners of my eyes.

  When I wake from a nightmare again the following night, my harsh pants cut off when I realize a strong embrace cinches tighter around me. Wren.

  He murmurs to me in low tones until my heartbeat stops thundering, stroking damp hair away from my sweaty forehead.

  “You’re here,” I whisper.

  “Sleep.” His lips brush my shoulder.

  My throat is thick and scratchy. It’s hard to swallow.

  “I have nightmares sometimes.”

  “I’m here now. You need rest. Just sleep.”

  The sheets didn’t smell like him before. Not the first night, when I was completely alone. They do now.

  My lashes flutter as he holds me. Before I know it, the horrible images fade away and I fall asleep once more.

  Every night after is like that. I’m alone when I fall into bed, but if I’m pulled from sleep in the middle of the night, he’s there. By morning, he’s gone.

  All week Wren has come and gone, remaining cryptic and short with me, unless we’re in his bed and he’s keeping bad dreams at bay. Until tonight.

  The elevator ding makes my heart race, promising the small hope of freedom. At first I ran to it, driven to madness by being left alone with my thoughts and the guilt that tortures me when I don’t have anything to shut it out.

  At least he left me with my laptop. After the nightmare woke me I couldn’t sleep the first night, so I got up to write. I wrote a book in the span of four days, funneling every feeling I was experiencing into a dark tale that I didn’t know I was capable of.