Could it?
Shelby collected her belongings, undid the strap that measured his blood pressure, and started to push her little cart toward the door. Just before opening it, she glanced back at him.
“It’s cold out there, Chase. Supposed to be a big storm tonight.”
“Uh. Okay?”
She rolled her eyes and walked out.
What the ever-loving fuck was that? Did she know he was planning to dip out of the savage arms of Frick and Frack and had decided to make small talk on his last morning in her care, or was she really that concerned about the weather?
Or maybe she knew he was planning to jet and wanted him to be concerned about the weather.
Huh.
They were set to meet outside after breakfast, so Chase went on a mission to scavenge supplies from the unlocked dorm rooms around his own. While he and Elijah barely had any clothes, since they were noobs on the Farm in the permanent resident sense, everyone else had been living here for a while. It took under an hour to dig up long johns, extra socks, and thicker zip-up fleece sweaters, but no dice on the shoes department.
The idea of running around in a snow storm with their cheap-ass Community-issued slip-ons was awful, so Chase bit the bullet and slipped out of the cottage over to the guesthouse. The VIPs of the Farm stayed over there, and they’d have better shit. He grabbed a backpack and walked over like was supposed to be there—the only way to properly sneak into a place in his opinion.
“What are you doing here?”
Chase glanced over at Kier, the idiot who did the brainwashing meetings, and sneered. “Aren’t you supposed to be off somewhere in a prayer circle?”
“Prayer circle,” Kier repeated. “The Community doesn’t—”
“Yeah, yeah, we don’t do religion, yeah.” Chase kept glaring at him, hoping the force of his hate would send this twerp back to whatever white-clothed hell he’d climbed out of. “Where’s Will? We’re moving out today, and we need to discuss the deets. Kyra said he was in his room.”
A look of relief crossed Kier’s face. “Their bedroom is upstairs to the far left.”
“Thanks, fuck face.”
Chase jogged away from Kier, sprinted up the stairs, and was in the terror twins’ domain before he had a plan to explain why he’d really come. Thankfully, they weren’t in the room. But weirdly, there was only one bed.
Ugh.
Apparently the Black fam weren’t the only crackpots who enjoyed inbreeding. Although, this was probably a Jasper and Richard idea. Probably one that had been planted in Will’s and Kyra’s heads since they were young: that it was normal to fuck your sibling.
Chase shuddered and ransacked their closet. It was packed with more crap than any of the others, likely because they’d been running around like Comm Spec Ops since puberty. He was able to find a pair of snow boots that looked like they’d seen better days, and a waterproof and less bulky pair of hiking boots.
He shoved them in his backpack, scoped out the other bedrooms on the floor only to find them locked, and headed downstairs. His curiosity about what else he might find rerouted him in the direction of the room at the far end of the hall. Before he could stop himself, he twisted the doorknob and peeked inside.
The room smelled strongly of some kind of fragrance. His nose wrinkled, but the scent was overshadowed once his eyes fell on the woman sitting in the chair by the window. Recognition hit him like a truck slamming into his chest.
She looked like the little boy he’d seen outside on the day he’d made the rounds with Richard. She looked like Nate and Theo. She fucking looked like him.
The air left his lungs, and Chase’s knees felt weak. Instead of fleeing like he wanted to, Chase slipped into the room and shut the door softly behind him. Everything in him told him to fucking abort this mission. To get out of Dodge before his brain buckled under the weight of this new piece of knowledge, but . . .
He had to know for sure.
Chase set the bag of supplies down and crept closer to the woman. She looked so fucking . . . strange. Her hair and face were ghostly pale. As she sat there gazing at the window, he could only see her cheekbones, high and sharp like his own. She also had a slight cleft in her chin, just like he did.
A sound filled the room, a sharp gasp. When she looked away from the window to focus on him, Chase realized he’d made that sound. And when their eyes met, he realized she wasn’t as vacant and zoned out as she’d first appeared. There was awareness in those big silver eyes. And when they swept over him once, then twice, there was recognition.
“Lorelei Black?” It came out in a low croak.
Recognition turned to shock. Her lips parted, then it was her who gasped. “Are you . . .”
He flinched at the sound of her voice, and she clammed up. She looked around the room, first at the door, then the windows, as her chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. It snapped him out of his trance, and he dropped to his knees in front of her.
“Look, calm down,” he hissed. “I’m not here to hurt you. Or to drug you up again.”
Lorelei started at the word again, and he nodded slowly.
“You’ve felt yourself recently, right? Able to think? Maybe even . . .” He stumbled over the next sentence, because he had no idea how much of her talent she had left. “Maybe even remember things?”
She stared at him long and hard before giving a jerky little nod.
“Good. That’s good.” Chase glanced at the door again, his heart slamming into his chest. “How long have you been here?”
Lorelei got that worried look again, and he cursed himself. How the hell would she know? It wasn’t like they were giving her calendars. The only frame of reference was the man who’d been obsessed with her since before Chase’s birth.
“Was—was Richard much younger than he is now?”
All hesitancy and fear fled her face. What was left was pure, unadulterated hatred.
Thank fucking God.
Lorelei nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“That motherfucker.” Chase lifted his hands slowly. “Look, I’m going to ask you something and you tell me no if you don’t want it, but . . . I know you know who I am. And I know who you are. And that means I need to tell my brother that you’re here in case I get my ass killed before I see him again.”
He’d expected her to panic again, but instead she slowly reached out her hands and touched his palms. No questions. No confusion. Maybe Richard had been filling her in for all these years, thinking she was too zombied out to remember. Maybe that’s how she’d recognized his tattooed ass as her spawn.
Either way, Chase grabbed her hands and closed his eyes.
The memories hit him all at once.
Her walking through a field on a hot summer day, her eyes red and wet and her feet covered only by flimsy sandals. A truck coming up behind her, fear taking hold of her, then a familiar voice shouting her name.
Her coming awake strapped to what looked like an airplane seat. Her head pressed against a window, and a dark night sky spreading out all around her.
“I’m taking you home,” Richard’s voice said softly. “You’re safe with me. I should have never let you leave.”
Snapping awake without drugs in her system, gaze flitting around the inside of a large van. Lorelei lashing out wildly, kicking the seat in front of her and then struggling against the binds around her wrists.
“Let me go, fucker!”
Jasper turning from the passenger’s seat, a disgusted look on his face right as he held up a needle. “You shouldn’t have brought this inbred country trash back here, Richard. You’re so goddamn needy.”
Lorelei spitting in his face.
The world swimming around her as she stumbled out of the van, the Farm looming before her.
Chase kept his eyes closed long after he’d finished watching the tableau of images. He tried his best to transmit each and every one of them to Nate. When it was done, he had no idea if it had worked, but he was exhausted.
Lorelei touched the side of his face, and a swell of emotion came up his throat, threatening to choke him.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” she whispered. “But they said they would . . . they would hurt you . . .”
“Stop.” His voice came out too loud. He stood, jerking away from her clumsily. “Listen to me, I don’t have a lot of time. But the nurse? Shelby?”
Lorelei glanced down at the little cup on her side table.
“Yeah, Shelby. She’s on our side, and she’s the reason why you’re not a zombie right now. Trust her. She’s more likely to talk to you than me.”
Lorelei nodded. “Then what?”
“Then we get the fuck out of here.”
He spun away before she could respond and hurried to the door after swiping the backpack. His eyes were burning as he speed-walked out of the guesthouse and into the cold air. When he found Elijah, he’d managed to choke down the urge to freak the fuck out.
All this time, and she’d been here. They’d taken her from Texas. And she’d implied she’d not wanted to leave him . . .
“Chase.” Elijah stood up quickly. “What’s wrong?”
They have my mother in the guesthouse.
Elijah’s eyes went wide.
She’s alive?
Yes. Chase took a deep breath, then another. Elijah grabbed one of his hands. They abducted her years ago and have kept her locked up in that house like a goddamn broodmare. They’ve— He . . . Chase couldn’t bring himself to get the words out. I told her to trust Shelby, and that we’re getting out of here.
“Good.” Elijah brought Chase’s hand to his mouth and kissed it. “That’s good.”
“Yeah,” Chase said roughly. “Real fucking good.”
Elijah started to speak, but seemed to think better of it and dropped his gaze to the backpack Chase was clutching. Relieved, Chase dropped it on the floor along with the boots.
“Change your clothes, and put these on,” he said, pointing to the hiking boots.
Elijah frowned and examined one of the boots. “They’re a little big.”
“No sweat.” Chase tossed the two pairs of socks at his face along with the long johns. “What color was your cocktail today?”
“Uhh . . .” Elijah had already begun stripping off his white sweats. “Green caps and an orange pill?”
“Cool.” So she’d slipped him the same shit. Shelby was definitely low-key on their side even if she hated Chase personally. Although, he told himself that was just a cover. Not everyone could dislike him on sight, could they? “Layer yourself thick.”
Elijah followed the direction without question, and Chase watched as all of that smooth brown skin was revealed. Usually he had to remind himself that it wasn’t the time to be constantly horny, but damn, Elijah was gorgeous and he needed a distraction. And what if he really did get his head blown off today? What if this was the last time they had together?
Chase came up behind Elijah just as Elijah pulled on the pair of long johns. He drew Elijah back to his own chest, and pressed his face into the soft curly hair. Elijah froze for just a beat before relaxing against Chase.
“Quickie before we head out?” Elijah looked over his shoulder from beneath his lashes and smirked. “I’ve never gone on an adventure filled with come before, but I could try it out. Could be squishy for a while.”
A shudder went up Chase’s spine. He gripped Elijah tighter and bucked his growing erection against that tight round ass.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Is that what I’m doing?” Elijah ground back teasingly and guided one of Chase’s hands down to his crotch. “Tempting? I thought I was providing stress relief. Being a good little pet for Chase Payne, second-in-command.”
“You’re being a good little slut because you know it turns me into your fucking puppet.”
Chase kissed down Elijah’s face before sucking on the side of his neck. The vulnerable little moan he got in response was enough for him to drag his teeth along the now-damp flesh. He wanted to bite down and leave marks, something Elijah would remember him by in case this all went wrong.
But he didn’t. There would be no branding. Elijah didn’t belong to him. He didn’t belong to anyone. And if this all went wrong, he’d focus on surviving. Not mourning Chase. That was the hope, anyway.
Elijah reached back to pull at Chase’s pants. It took everything in Chase’s power to shake his head and take a step back. A small step, but one nonetheless.
“We’ll save it for if we survive.”
Elijah turned, hands on Chase’s shoulders, and considered his eyes. “We’re going to survive.”
“How do you know? Did you—” A golden bullet of hope shot through Chase. It wasn’t an emotion he’d expected to feel anymore. “Did you have a vision?”
Elijah smiled slightly and shook his head. “I just have faith in you. In us. To be . . . like . . . ten times more badass than these brainwashed fuckboys.”
“Wouldn’t Kyra be a fuckgirl?”
“Nope. She’s probably the mastermind of that horrible duo. Do you really think Will can focus on anything but his burning desire to have power over something or someone? It’s why he hates you.” Elijah bumped their hips together. “He thinks you rode in with zero effort to steal his thunder. Also, the hot precog boy is in love with you.”
Chase shifted away, but Elijah dug his fingers in tighter.
“Boy, you do not get to pretend I didn’t just fucking declare my love for you right before we ride off to get potentially murdered.”
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna die.” Chase looked everywhere but at Elijah, warmth rising up his neck to flush his face like a teenager who’d just got an erection in science class. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“Then stop being an asshole.” Elijah reached up to grab his chin, fingers sliding over the rough stubble, and forced Chase to meet his eyes. “Say it back.”
“For fuck’s sake—”
“Say it back, puto.”
Chase wrenched his chin away. “Just focus on getting out of here,” he said flatly. “Save the declarations for when you’re reunited with the others.”
Elijah’s lips parted, his brows drawing together, but he said nothing. He only gave a curt nod as his expression hardened. If Chase thought back, he could trace that look to several other times in the past when he’d yanked away or dismissed Elijah’s attempts at affection. He’d told himself it was just Elijah’s way—clingy and somewhat needy and pouring that all into Chase since Holden was unavailable. But “I love yous” had never factored in. That was new. Didn’t mean it would be real once they were off the Farm.
“Fine.”
“Good.” Chase turned to the door. “Get dressed. We’re out of here in like ten minutes.”
The silence following his order was thick, but Chase didn’t try to soften the blow. Didn’t touch Elijah like he was yearning to, didn’t get a last kiss or embrace or anything. They’d have time to figure out what was real and what wasn’t if they survived.
Just like in Chase’s vision, there were two dark SUVs waiting outside. There was a driver in each one, guards who vaguely looked familiar but who had names Chase didn’t know, and the terror twins split up between the two vehicles. They were dressed similarly to how they’d been when he’d first laid eyes on them—biker leathers despite the lack of a bike, utility belts, and they were packing more weapons than should have been necessary on a Farm of psychics.
Will yanked Elijah toward one SUV with him, and Kyra jerked her head at Chase.
Elijah looked back at Chase just as he was shoved into the back of the vehicle. He was wearing a mask of worry that wasn’t helpful to their original plan of him playing the part of doe-eyed, placid zombie.
“Why’s your boyfri—brother want to ride with Elijah?” Chase asked, ambling toward Kyra as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “So he can get frisky on the way? Pretty sure my pops didn’t give the okay on people sh
aring my toys.”
Kyra said nothing, her distaste for him evident without words.
He stopped by the SUV’s door only a few inches from her. “Gonna be a long and difficult trip if you’re giving me the silent treatment.”
She opened the door for him without comment. They held eye contact for a long moment before he winked and slid inside the vehicle. There was someone sitting across from him, a gaunt woman with long red hair, who looked up once Chase settled.
For the first time since this had all started, he couldn’t hide the genuine shock that overtook him.
“Holy fucking shit. Beck.”
Even when she straightened and her red hair fell away from her face, Beck looked different. Older. Paler. The challenging spark that had always been in her eyes, that very slight indication that she was more than she’d seemed, was gone. Beck was depleted.
But . . . probably not fully. If she was here, it was because she had a use. Given what Richard had used her for at Evolution, her presence on this little mission was most likely due to her ability to track psychics. Ideally, she’d be able to find Nate, Holden, and the rest. Unless Six managed to shield them all.
“I thought you were dead,” he said. “So this is a little awks.”
“You wished I was dead,” Beck said in a low hoarse voice.
“Well, you did murder a bunch of people including some friends of mine. I’m an eye-for-an-eye type of guy.”
Kyra slid in next to Beck. Her lips upturned very slightly, as though she was thrilled by Chase being so visibly caught off guard. Maybe she wanted some form of revenge for him letting the cat out of the bag about her boinking her own brother. As if murdering him in a little while wasn’t revenge enough.
“So . . .” Chase drawled. “This is an odd trio. Do you ladies know each other, or do we need an ice breaker? If we play I Never, I’m definitely going for I never killed another psychic. Guaranteed win—”
“Do you ever shut up?” Kyra asked. “Or is constant shit talking your way of hiding how nervous you are?”
“I generally just like pissing people off.”
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