In a way, getting caught up with the Crows has been a blessing in disguise. It’s kept my thoughts at bay, but up here on the cliff the things I’ve attempted to ignore creep back in. The only other time I’ve been alone with my thoughts was when Wren locked me in the penthouse. I channeled it into feverish creativity, writing that book so I didn’t have to face what I’m feeling directly.
I hug my waist. The wind whips flyaway hairs from my braid.
I came to Thorne Point to follow my brother. To be like him. But it was also an escape from what I couldn’t deal with. My past. Guilt.
If I became like Ethan, I didn’t have to be myself.
And it’s harder to lie to myself without him here.
Am I strong and independent as I’ve always told myself, or do I choose to isolate myself from most people because of what I went through out of fear of opening my heart? Other than my brother, I wanted to be alone. I didn’t let Mom in—couldn’t even look her in the eye. I distanced from the friends I did have and other than Isla and the Crows, I’ve never let anyone in.
Without Ethan around, it casts the things I do in sharp relief. My single-minded stubbornness, the insatiable impulsiveness, the need to act alone. Asking for help has become a foreign concept. If I don’t ask for it, no one has to see how much I struggle.
Before the Crows, my brother was the one person I trusted in and relied on. The only person I clung to.
I don’t know if it’s the growing trepidation to find him or gradually giving in to Wren’s control that’s peeled the curtain of my denial back, but I see it now. See how much the traumatic experiences of my past shaped me to the point of extreme independence, never wanting anyone to do things for me. Acting on my own before anyone could tell me not to.
Maybe in a way it’s to make myself relive my biggest mistake—disobeying Dad and damning him to his death.
I push away hard from the truth of how damaged I am, digging my grip into my shirt. It’s my fault.
Ethan has always been my benchmark. Since we were little kids, all I wanted was to mimic everything he did. After the accident with Dad, that need only grew. Without him, I’m floundering to keep it together.
Again, the dark shadows of my mind prod me with the question of life without my brother.
I miss him. His terrible jokes, his crooked smile, the way he’d ruffle my hair when I was in a mood.
The argument we had before he left sits heavy on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have told him the truth. Trembling, I close my eyes and breathe. Icy fear swallows my heart.
I don’t know how long I stay like that before crunching footsteps and the telltale scent of crisp aftershave pull me from my thoughts. When Wren reaches me, he grasps my chin and draws me into a deep kiss that soothes the pain.
The corner of my mouth curls. “Come to catch me?”
“Before you find trouble, yes.”
He stands behind me and I lean into him. We watch birds swoop to the ocean for fish and listen to the waves crashing against the jagged rocks below. I slip a hand into his, finding the locket held in his grip. He tenses, then gradually relaxes when I lock our fingers together to cradle the locket between our palms. I’ve never seen him let anyone else touch it and it stirs my heart.
“This is a nice spot to think.”
“It is,” he agrees.
We walk the edge of the cliffs. The familiar view has me pursing my lips to the side.
“Are we near the shooting range? The coastline looks the same.”
He glances at me. “Yes. I had it built on this property.”
“How far is it?”
“About half a mile.”
My brows lift. “Big place. Is it all woods other than the range and the Nest?”
Wren licks his lips, cutting his gaze out to the ocean. His fingers flex around the locket tucked between our joined hands.
“A couple other buildings. But yes, mostly it’s woods.”
“You prefer it here to the penthouse.” I watch his handsome features for a reaction and catch the tightening around his eyes. I’m right. “And you like this better than your family’s estate.”
“I hate it there.” His voice turns gruff. “It’s nothing but a mausoleum to me.”
A sharp ache cracks through my chest. I nod in understanding. I couldn’t wait to get away from home when I left for college.
Wren stops walking and studies me for a moment. “It’s only been my brothers by my side for years. I haven’t let anyone in for a long time. I can’t give myself over easily.”
The thought of his stony mask chipping away little by little in my presence flits across my mind. I listen to what he wants to tell me, too cautious to break the tenuous mood.
“This place is left as it is because it reminds me that all things wither and die.”
“Not entirely,” I murmur. He regards me with interest. “There are plenty of plants thriving happily. Death is…” I search for how to phrase the feeling that filled me as I explored. “An ending, but it’s also a beginning for something else. Whatever is lost finds a way to go on.”
My vision mists and Ethan and Dad’s voices fill my head, their laughter living on in my memory. A lump forms in my throat and I swallow it back. Wren’s eyes bore into mine and he tucks a flyaway hair behind my ear.
“The Crow’s Nest Hotel was a business established by my great-grandmother. She was my grandfather’s mother on my dad’s side. Years of family history and tradition of a founding family bloodline held a life she had no interest in.” His lips twitch and warmth infuses his words. “She was a stubborn woman from what I understand, much like you.”
“That’s amazing that she started a business.”
“After the hotel closed, it sat for years. My grandfather Hugo never cared for it. The guys and I used to come here when we were younger and snuck in. It was our spot.”
I smirk, picturing them as teens banding their boy’s club together. “Is this why you’re called the Crows?”
“A coincidence. Crows are intelligent. They can remember faces, recognizing who to trust and who wronged them. They resonated with us.”
“They’re also an omen according to superstitious wives’ tales. Do you consider yourselves as four for wealth, or do Fox and the guy you talked to last night count if you want to send the message sickness and death are coming?”
The slow smile he gives me is cunning and sinister.
“How did you turn this place into a nightclub?”
“I bought it. The deed had been in my family, but my father and grandfather put it up for sale intending to cash in on it. I convinced them to sell it to me.”
“You had to buy the deed off your own family?” I can’t hide the surprise in my tone.
“It was the first thing I’d built for myself.”
“That must have made them proud.”
Wren goes quiet, rubbing the locket with a complicated expression.
“Sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”
“It’s not that. You made me think of something else.” The distance in his eyes pulls at my heartstrings. Dropping my hand, he turns away, then angles his head back to speak. “I want to know if you’ve thought about what we might find when we search the hidden rooms.”
I freeze. “What do you mean?”
I don’t want him to say it. His jaw works.
“Rowan, your brother might not be there. He might not be anywhere we can reach anymore.”
Denial springs to my tongue, but I bite it back. It’s what I’ve been thinking, isn’t it? The nightmares, the heinous whisper in the back of my mind. I ball my fists.
“Ethan has to be alive.”
Wren whirls on me, grabbing my arms. “And if he’s not?”
“He has to be,” I repeat on a growl.
If my brother is dead, I’ll never be able to make things right between us for what I did.
After the admission tumbled from my lips, Ethan went still. He’d been in a weird mood for se
veral days, but he’d never looked at me like that before. Like he couldn’t stand the sight of me.
“You made him drive out in a deadly storm despite the state of emergency warnings to come get you after he told you not to go?”
I flinched at his tone. All I could do was nod. He knew I’d been in the car, but he never knew what really happened that night.
“We…had a huge fight the night before he left,” I start. The wind steals my words, whipping them off the cliff’s edge to drown the truth in the sea. “I kept something from him for a long time, but I couldn’t any longer.”
The memory of that night slams into me hard.
I wanted to take my confession back, but it was out there. The awful, selfish way I acted out in the open.
“Does Mom know?” he asked in a voice that scared me.
I shook my head. “You can’t tell her. I just—I had to get it off my chest. I’ve kept it a secret for so long. It was a mistake.”
He had no sympathy for the tears streaming down my face.
“Siblings fight. It’s normal,” Wren says distantly, as if my story makes him remember something else. “It can’t be helped.”
“This is different. He was so angry. I’d never seen him like that, not with me.” I swallow past the ache in my throat. “I just want to make things right with him.”
Ethan always looked at me with kindness and sympathy. He was my rock, but once I confessed, he suddenly looked at me like I was a stranger.
“You’re such a fucking brat, Rowan. I can’t believe you lied about this for so long.” His features contorted, stealing away the fun-loving brother I’d always looked up to. “I’ll never forgive you for this!”
Releasing a horrible yell, he threw his fist through the wall, leaving a hole.
Panic overtook me. Ethan had never shouted at me once in my life. “I hate this. I hate myself. I hate you! I wish I’d died in the accident instead of Dad!”
“Good,” he spat. “Because I’m never talking to you again. When I get back, you’d better be gone. Find somewhere else to live, because you’re not welcome here anymore.”
Days after he was gone I patched up the hole. It was supposed to be a surprise and an apology for when he returned. A desperate hope that he didn’t mean what he said, because I didn’t mean what I told him either.
Wren waits for me to continue, but I’m lost in my head. He clears his throat, tucking his hands in his pockets. The stoic set of his jaw reminds me of how closed off he was when I came to the Crow’s Nest, contrasting how much he’s opened up around me.
“You lied to me that first night.” His inescapable gaze traps me. “You thought you got away with it, but I’ve collected enough secrets over the years to know when someone hides something from me.”
At first, my instinct is to play it off and stick to my story—that I have no secrets worth his time. But I’m tired of running from this.
“So what if I did? I couldn’t…not this.”
“I broke my rules by allowing you to keep it. We don’t do that for anyone—even family pays the price we demand. It’s why Fox is here. He owed us for the help we offered him.” Wren dips his head, studying me closely. “I’m giving you the choice to tell me now.”
My throat closes and my breathing turns shallow. I want to give him this because he asked instead of stealing it from me. By his own word he doesn’t offer this, but he did for me. Out of everyone in the world, he might be the only person that would understand and accept me for what I’ve done.
It’s time to come clean and confess my darkest secret.
Twenty-Eight
Wren
If there’s any chance of trusting Rowan, I need to know. That’s how things work, my brothers and I know every corner of darkness in our hearts and minds. The fact I offered her the choice, the out to keep the secret, is huge. I wait with bated breath as she visibly weighs her options.
“This secret could tear my family apart.” Rowan’s features crumple. “I’ve never told my mom. Not after what she went through losing Dad. It already broke things between me and Ethan.”
I shift to watch the ocean, allowing her to take her story at her own pace. The only reason I broached the subject of her brother is because I don’t want to keep what I know from her anymore. Holding it back is taking a toll on me. It was for her benefit that I hid what I believe is true, but I need to prepare to protect her from the unavoidable pain awaiting her. It makes it harder that things were rough, leaving lingering guilt that won’t resolve.
Rowan’s voice grows distant as she recounts, the anguish of an old wound coming open seeping into her tone. “I was fourteen and so damn rebellious. I’ve always looked up to my brother, but when he left for college I was kind of floundering. We were so close growing up, but at times we reached those in between stages where we couldn’t stand each other.”
My lips twitch as similar memories of going through the same thing with Charlotte cross my mind. She was my light, but I squandered the time I had with her when I thought I was too cool to hang around my little sister.
“My friends were going to a party. It’s a small enough town that it’s noticeable who does and doesn’t go to these things.” Her voice cracks. “Dad told me I wasn’t allowed to go, but I was stubborn. So I snuck out.”
Fondness expands in my chest for the picture she paints, even while she’s sad. I rub the locket in my hand with my thumb.
Releasing a shaky exhale, she goes on. “He must have checked for me, because he found out I wasn’t home and came to get me. God, it was so embarrassing.” She rubs her face with her plaid oversized sleeve. “We had a blowout fight right on the beach. It started to rain and I got drenched because I wasn’t ready to leave. Dad and everyone else went under the porch or retreated inside. He threatened to call Ethan to tell me to get my ass in the car, and I hated disappointing him.”
An unsettling chill creeps into my veins. She told me her father died. I have a sinking feeling I know where this story goes next.
“The storm was crazy. High speed winds and rain pelted the car. No one was supposed to be on the road, the state shut everything down in preparation.” Rowan’s tone takes on an eerie detached quality. “The news warned that a hurricane could veer toward our small beach town. Dad was too busy yelling at me on the ride home and I was too headstrong not to argue back. The headlights came out of nowhere when I was shoving at my dad. I don’t remember what I was saying, only that I pushed him. It’s weird to feel the weightlessness when a car flips. It stole my breath and I banged my head on the window.”
Unable to feign interest in the ocean, I turn to her and take her by the shoulders, wishing I could pull the weight of her misery onto mine.
“He—” She hiccups out another uneven breath, closing her eyes. “He tried to put his arm over me so I wouldn’t get hurt. Even though I was being such a bitch. Even though my mistake caused the accident, he still tried to do it. The angle…his seatbelt couldn’t keep his upper body protected. He had severe brain damage. I got out with barely a scratch and he was broken beyond repair. There wasn’t anything the doctors could do for him. Mom chose to keep him on life support. We decided to turn it off the summer before my freshman year at Thorne Point.”
A leaden weight settles in my stomach. I caress her cheek with my knuckles. My understanding of her grows. Even before she told me, I recognized the pieces of her that fit with the razor-sharp shards of myself.
Rowan stares at me with years of guilt clear on her face. “I’m the reason my dad died. That’s my secret. I killed my own father.”
There’s no way I can break her more, not right now. The glasses will remain in my safe. But when the truth about Ethan comes out, I dread how much I’ll crush her from another loss I can’t defend her from.
“I’m no stranger to death.” I pull her into my arms and stroke her back. “You know there’s far more blood on my hands.”
The blood of the man who posed a threat to Rowan, the
blood of my sister’s predator, the blood of enemies I’ve made.
“I’m a terrible person,” she says in an empty tone.
I squeeze her. “You’re not, Rowan. You’re the farthest from it. Between the two of us, I’m the gruesome monster.”
She rests her head on my chest and I offer her my own darkness. I’m at a point where my feelings for her outweigh my lack of trust in others, but the fortress around my heart is almost cracked open for her. I want to let her in as an addition to the few people I consider family, the few I truly have the capacity to care for.
“My sister was everything to me. She was sweet and smart. She outshone me, and I was happy for her achievements.” My hold on Rowan becomes the support I need instead of something I offer to her. Sensing the change, she burrows deeper into my arms. “She committed suicide.”
“Wren,” Rowan whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
Her sympathy washes over the brittle ache of the past. “It destroyed my family. We weren’t the greatest family to begin with, but we all loved Charlotte. You’ve seen what it did to my mother. My father shut us out. And I… I became single-minded in hunting down the sick fuck who drove her to it. Her teacher.”
Thinking of Coleman ignites the all-consuming fury that controlled me, pulled me from the emptiness that numbed me otherwise until she came along.
“I wanted justice. It was my focus for years.”
“I would want that, too,” Rowan murmurs. Drawing back, she traces what’s visible of the rose tattoos winding around my arms beneath the pushed up sleeves of my sweater. She pauses on the white roses spattered in blood. “These are for her?”
“Yes.”
For a moment, her attention drifts to the other arm covered in black roses swallowed by flames, the stark representation of myself.
“And the locket you always take out when you’re thinking. That’s hers too.”
I squeeze the necklace tighter before showing it to her. “Last piece of her I have.”
“That’s not true.” Rowan places a palm over my chest where my heartbeat drums. “She’s in here. They live on with our memories. You’ll always carry her with you.”
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