Twisted Secrets

by Ace Gray

  “Stay in line, Emmett,” I warned.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, Brye, don’t believe everything you hear.” His eye roll was damn near audible between us. “Did she tell you she was torn between two of us? That she couldn’t make up her damned mind. I wanted her. Desperately. And she couldn’t figure out whether she felt the same way.”

  Filly hadn’t known how she felt about me. The pain had been palpable at her indecision.

  “I almost lost my damn mind.”

  “How’d you change hers?”

  “The MacCowan way,” he said with a shoulder shrug.

  “You killed him?” There was less judgment in my voice than there should be. Perhaps the MacCowan comment wasn’t far off. I would kill any man that took Filly.

  “You know why you really don’t want to take up your father’s mantle?” he asked with a laugh. “You’re not creative enough. You don’t think ten steps ahead. There’s a future here for you and your little doe-eyed whore if only you were creative enough to build it.”

  My hands balled in my lap at the mere mention of Filly. He didn’t know her. He couldn’t know her goodness and her utter wrongness here amongst the ashes of a dying kingdom. When he called her a whore I was tempted to gouge his eyeballs out and feel the fibrous pull before the bubblegum pop. If he hadn’t been driving, I would have done it.

  “Don’t. Call. Her. A. Whore.” Ice froze on each letter of each word as I said them.

  “You used to like a good whore.” His voice tried to match. “Or two,” he added with a wicked smirk.

  “Things change,” I snarled.

  He eyed me from the driver’s seat, evaluating me so blatantly that the vision of reaching up and smashing his head into the steering wheel played on a loop in my head. There was something calculating in his look. Something challenging too. I wanted to tell him that he had no right to look at the future king of an unholy empire that way, but we both knew that wasn’t true anymore. When his gaze finally met mine and I did what I could to show him all the ruthless hate still simmering inside of me he shrugged.

  “Seems that they do.”

  My warped cry still rang in my ears. My cheeks were still steaming with heat and the wet that clung to them. I couldn’t hold myself up and the support of my dad around me was the only reason I didn’t crumble. Or turn around and claw his eyes out.

  They had let him go.

  They had let him go because they were cowards. It didn’t bother me that Brye was going to kill his father, but we were going to let him do it alone. We could help. If any of those godforsaken stories were true—and when I looked into the hard, unyielding edge of my family I knew they were—we had the means to keep the man I loved safe.

  I shoved at my dad’s arms with all my might and fury inside me and I must have caught him off guard because I snapped free and crashed to the floor. The sudden assault on my knees drew the tears back out in cascades down my cheeks.

  My mom’s slight but steel arms were around me almost immediately. I collapsed into the curve of her neck and let the fear wash over me. Because that’s why I was a wreck—the fear. I would lose him. And just when I found him underneath those layers of mirk.

  “I want you to go after him.” My mom’s voice vibrated against my ear. “Cole, did you hear me? Go after that boy and bring him back here.”

  I squeezed on her.

  “No,” he said sharply.

  And the force of his conviction hit me so hard, I choked on my sobs.

  “Cole Ryan, you listen to me and you listen good. Filly loves that boy, that should be enough.” She unwound from me, leaving me as a heap on the floor as she stood toe to toe with my father and pressed her pointer finger into his chest. “But you know good and well I’m asking because he loves her. You saw it on his face as plain as day, just like me. The fact that he’s going to lay his life down for her…”

  “Elle,” my dad warned.

  “I get so sick of this bullshit. From all of you.” She whirled and pointed directly at Uncle Horse too. “You love us? Then just love us. Include us. Filly is just as strong as I was. Conrad too. Fight beside us, not for us.”

  “Tart, we wouldn’t even know where to start,” Horse said softly.

  “You two have managed to find every ounce of trouble in this godforsaken city since I met you, probably before. It shouldn’t be too hard.”

  “Mom?”

  She crouched back down and cupped my face. “I’m sorry I let him walk out of the room, Bean.”

  I shook my head, unable to tell her all the things still caught in my throat. I didn’t care that she hadn’t stopped him—I wasn’t sure she could have. Though I doubted anyone could truly defy this version of her. I loved her unending and it was because she saw me and my insides and understood. She’d never been really bad, she’d never been really wrong, even when doing all the shit that sounded so foul. She faced the dark and chosen light and love. She stood so strong against the waves that kept crashing against her shore.

  I wanted to be just like her.

  “I’m sorry.” I pulled her into the tightest hug I could manage despite how awkward it was, her arms crunched to my chest and still holding tight to me.

  I hoped she knew that I was apologizing not just for the venom I’d spat her way but the things I’d thought. The things I’d questioned. The way she leaned her forehead down to mine with a sullen smile, I was thinking yes. And it fueled a fire inside me.

  “We’ll figure it out—” My dad started to cave when a sharp, rushed knock at the door cut his words short. Everyone froze.

  “Who is that?” Horse asked me in a barely there voice.

  I shook my head, sensing the danger as if it was second nature to me now too.

  “Filly? I know you’re in there.”

  I knew the woman’s voice. I wanted to rip it from her throat. With my family here, with our ruthlessness laid bare between us, I thought I just might. My father wordlessly questioned me and I didn’t know if I wanted to open the door or not. I didn’t know if it was Pandora’s box or not.

  “Filly, you have no reason to believe me but Brye’s in trouble.”

  “No shit,” I spat out without meaning to.

  “It’s Emmett, Filly. It’s always been Emmett.”

  And just like that, my world bottomed out. I had to fight to cling to walls around me, suddenly oh-so-aware of the pit beneath me and how it could swallow me up. My mom was back at my side her fingertips at my shoulder as she faced the door.

  I sucked in a deep breath as I shoved to my feet and then to the door. I yanked it open without a second thought. The guns clicking into place behind me reminded me what a serious game we were playing, I couldn’t let her taunt me into something I might lose.

  “Explain yourself,” I snarled, knowing that my family behind me was every bit as menacing as my wicked voice.

  She had morphed since the last time I saw her. The bombshell was gone and a scared girl in a hooded sweatshirt with a black eye and bloody lip stood in front of me. That was the girl I let into our hotel room.

  “Emmett was something to me. Something special.” She swallowed and I couldn’t tell if it was her blood or her words that tasted sour on her tongue.

  “He treated you like trash.” I remembered his words, about how she was nothing more than holes and an orgasm to him.

  “It didn’t start that way. It started like you and Brye—with hope.” She smiled weakly.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She rolled her eyes then lifted her hand to her lips; her hands were just as battered and bruised as her face. Whatever had happened, Deirdre had fought like hell to get here. She flipped her bottom lip to reveal a managed scar in a vaguely familiar shape. She glowered at me and swallowed once before she let it flip back into place. The split on the front side had reopened and the smallest drop of blood rolled down her chin.

  “I told him I couldn’t go to the dinner parties anymore, that watching him with other people w
as too much for me. We’d been happy, we’d talked about getting married.

  “Rather than honor my wishes, he branded me. I was so in love with him I never told anyone he did it. He made me a possession. A pet,” she spat out the words. “I had a choice to make. I knew enough that I could play the part or die. Connor would have made sure of that too.”

  “He didn’t protect you?” I didn’t need to feel for her, but I did.

  “He came on the scar while it was still healing.”

  “Oh my God.” I arched back. “Why did you keep his secret?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” She gave me a look like I was an idiot. “Secrets are currency in this world. We all keep them. We leverage them. You think this,” she pointed at her lip, “is what makes Emmett a monster? After everything?” She arched her eyebrow.

  “So then why are you telling me now?” I crossed my arms.

  “Because he forced my hand, Filly. He twisted up those secrets and made me what I am.”

  Dread knotted up in my stomach just at the way she said things. The same shadows that lapped at Brye himself that first day, wrapped around her words.

  “You know what I’m going to say,” she whispered.

  “He’s going to do the same to Brye,” I finished for her.

  She nodded slowly and I reached out for my mom to steady me. My dad’s calloused hand got there first. He gave me strength as Deirdre continued.

  “I went to the club last night so I could help. I made sure you were safe at the track. I brought him here.”

  Thank you was on the tip of my tongue.

  “And tonight, when I was home, Emmett beat where here is out of me.”

  “You told him where Filly was?” My dad stepped toward to her, menacing with his prowl and prowess alone.

  “When he laid me out, he stole my phone. He checked the GPS.” She narrowed her gaze and stepped toe to toe with my father.

  We all sat in taut silence until my mom turned on her heel, grabbing some ice for the girl whose face had suffered for my secrets. Deirdre pressed the washcloth full of cubes to her face without flinching.

  “Why would he do it this to Brye?” I finally broke the silence with the question that nagged at my heart.

  “Power,” Horse answered for her.

  “The two most powerful men in the Chicago underground are about to go up against each other,” my dad spoke. “Blood is going to run in the streets. Every single person who’s thirsty will get to drink.”

  “Emmett is going to sit back and watch it happen.” Horse added. “God knows what he has planned when the dust settles.”

  “Brye was going to walk away last night. I don’t know what changed, but I’m guessing it has to do with you. That’s why you have to go get him,” Deirdre broke in. “Only you can stop him.” She looked at me then let her eyes slide around the room at each of my family members. “Only you can hide him.”

  I knew what had changed. What was between us had solidified into the shape of our hearts and bodies as they twined together in those hotel sheets.

  “I’m going,” I said soft and strong to no one in particular.

  “I’ll show you. I’ll help however I can.” Deirdre didn’t dare lay her hands on me, but the way she flinched I knew she meant her solidarity.

  My mom disappeared again, returning only to wordlessly hand me some fresh clothes and a pair of high top Chucks. It was the best answer she could give. And when my dad simply started cleaning his gun, inspecting it as if he was going to war, I knew what love looked like. It was dark and gritty and unfaltering. It fought and fucked and there was no surrender, it was just a death at the hands of something you wanted to die for.

  And I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if it came down to it, I would die for Brye MacCowan.

  I was going to kill my father.

  It was time, it was right, it was worth it, but the sentence was surreal. I was going to kill my father.

  Part of me wondered if he was redeemable—the same part that had been brought back to life by Filly—the rest of me knew he was gone. He wouldn’t give up power, position or pussy for anything. For anyone. It was what happened when love soured and turned into an obsession.

  “What’s your plan?”

  “Kill my father.” The words glitched in my throat.

  “How?”

  “As quickly and quietly as I can.”

  “Under the seat.” He jerked his chin.

  I reached to find a fucking arsenal. Just by touch I found a shoulder holster and slid two guns against my chest. There was a knife for my boot and brass knuckles for my pocket.

  “Good enough?” Emmett shot me a devious smile and I swore I saw blood dripping from his lips.

  I couldn’t answer. Words like good were gone tonight. Only things like death and damnation remained.

  Emmett slid out of the car and stood silhouetted against the light shining beside my front door. He seemed fearless, soulless like that and a shiver rolled down my spine. My soul had been found, she’d electrified it. That alone gave me a healthy dose of fear.

  For the first time, the power to give and take life made me afraid.

  My back spread wide and my muscles tensed uncomfortably before I blew it out and melted completely. I willed my lungs to breathe in Filly even in this dark place. As if she answered, the glint of silver caught my eye, not beneath my seat but pushed forward by my toes. I reached for it despite the nervous numbness in my fingertips.

  A third gun, a Walther by the looks of it, smaller than my hand, had been discarded on the floorboards like other people threw out food wrappers. I snatched it and shoved it into the back of my waistband before sliding out to meet him. I closed my eyes and basked in the light, hoping that it washed me in the same soulless bath as Emmett.

  Instead I felt Filly and I smiled.

  We walked up the stairs without much fanfare. The door swung open much the same. I didn’t know what to expect but walking right in and having silence and darkness greet me, wasn’t it. I walked carefully through the house, remembering the floorboards that creaked from my childhood.

  My childhood that was about to disappear.

  Anxiety prickled at my neck and I pulled a gun from my holster and swung it in front of me. Emmett faded into the shadows behind me. There was a force pulling me forward, almost a magnet to my father. To my fate.

  Somehow I knew he was in the dining room, seated at that damned table before I stepped into the wide doorframe that gave me a view. The room was completely dark.

  “I was wondering what you’d do.” My father’s voice came from behind the black veil.

  “You can fucking destroy me, but you aren’t going to hurt her,” I said coolly. “If I have my way you aren’t going to hurt anyone, anymore.”

  He just laughed and there was just enough streetlight for me to see him temple his seemingly disembodied fingers in front of him as he settled his elbows onto the tables.

  “And who will be responsible for what follows? You?”

  I didn’t answer him. I didn’t think he deserved the answer. To know that I’d become something better than my circumstances despite every effort he made to drag me down.

  “Did it ever occur to you, son, that the underworld needs a king? Without a semblance of order, there is no one to put down the dogs. There is no one to offer Elysium or drown them in the Styx. It is minions, hellbent on destruction, ripping at the flesh of each other until there’s nothing left.”

  The visual he painted was real. The times we’d murdered someone more monstrous than us, flashed in my mind. The small kernel of truth made me pause. I wondered would happen to the world around me.

  But then I wondered why he was just sitting.

  Sitting and waiting.

  “Did you want me to spare you?” I asked.

  “No,” he answered with his usual shrug.

  “Did you plan to kill me?” I tightened my grip on my gun.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”


  It wasn’t even a full heartbeat after my question that a bat cracked the side of my head. Mercifully I didn’t drop, but I staggered and crashed into the doorframe. My dad’s wicked laugh thumped in my head along with the pain and my blood. I wanted to fall to my knees, but Filly kept me upright.

  I crashed forward and got off a shot but only wood splintered in response.

  “Emmett,” I snarled but only more random thumps answered.

  Whoever had the bat swung it at my side and the sound of my ribs crunching was just as real as the feel of it. I wasn’t expecting it, but this time I could react to it. I threw my arm backward and wrapped it around the wood, using the crook of my elbow to pull him in.

  My fist flew on instinct. Finding his face first with my knuckles then with my elbow back the other way. The warmth of blood splattered on my shoulder a second before the small patter of a tooth bouncing off my skin. I wrenched the bat out of his hold, spun it in mine and swung at the faceless man before I had a chance to think. Before he had a chance to react. The crunch of his face only preceded his muffled thump to the floor by a second.

  “Emmett, the lights,” I yelled only for my father to start laughing again.

  I used the gun in my other hand to unload in his direction.

  “Much closer this time, Brye.” He was an undeniable bastard.

  The floorboards beside me creaked and I swung, blowing off a shot just in time to feel lifeless fingertips fall down along my body.

  I didn’t call for Emmett again, I didn’t want them to know where I was. The sounds of some tussle behind me implied he was otherwise engaged anyway. I tried to pinpoint where the sounds were coming from. If I could get to him, if we could take down whoever together…

  A fist flew into my back, catching my bottom rib and my kidney. He had to be wearing brass knuckles because acid barreled through me and the pain was more an electrocution that paralyzed me for a heartbeat or so than a punch. He used the kidney shot to his advantage, jamming the heel of his boot into the back of my knee. I crashed to the floor. Hard. His toe caught the same aching spot his fist had. I cried out, feeling my rib crack under the pressure.