Aftereffect (The Order of Ravens and Wolves Book 1)

by T. L Hodel

  I stopped dead in my tracks. The blood in my veins boiled as I slowly turned around. It took every ounce of my strength not to scream my words. “Why the fuck is he in pediatrics?”

  “First off, I want you to know, Junior’s going to be fine. From what we can tell, he only has a few bumps and bruises, and maybe a mild concision. They’ll probably want to keep him for a couple of days for observation. He’s been through quite an ordeal.”

  “What do you mean, from what we can tell? Don’t you have doctors in this place. Isn’t it their job to assess injuries and prescribe treatment?”

  “Junior won’t let the doctors give him a thorough exam. He won’t even let me go near him,” my father explained. “I was hoping you could help with that.”

  I swore under my breath. Junior was a tough kid. He didn’t like to accept help, and had a hard time trusting anyone. I don’t think he even trusted me fully yet. With his past, I couldn’t blame him. The only adults he saw wanted to do fucked up shit to him.

  “Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

  My father nodded. “When done on Peds, come see me in my office. I have a few questions about the man who attacked Junior and his mother.”

  “I wasn’t there,” I pointed out.

  But I’ll find out who it was.

  In true psychiatrist fashion, my father didn’t answer my question. He simply looked at Logan and said, “I expect you there, too. This involves you as well.”

  “How the hell does this involve Logan?” I argued. The only reason my best friend tolerated Junior was because of me.

  “No offence, Lou,” Logan piped in, “but the kid and I aren’t exactly on friendly terms. I kind of hate the little shit.”

  My father’s next words stunned us both into silence.

  “Who’s The Piper, son?”

  The look on our faces must’ve been enough for him because the next second, my father walked away.

  Logan and I didn’t say a word on the way to Junior’s room, or after I’d convinced him to let the doctors give him an exam. We stood in the hall watching various tests be run on the stubborn little fucker and didn’t say a damn thing . . . We didn’t have to. We both knew what the other was thinking. How the fuck did my father find out, and what else did he know?

  The fact that Logan didn’t respond when Junior sneered at him and said, “Why’d you bring pretty boy?” told me just how scared my best friend was.

  “It’ll be okay?” I said.

  The Knight were my brothers, my family. I’d die for anyone of them, but Logan . . . I’d walk through hell for that bastard. We’d been through too much shit together, and I wouldn’t let it end this way. Even if it meant taking on my father. He killed his for me, and I’d do the same for him. It would hurt like a bitch – I really did love my father – but I owed my life to Logan, and so much more. He didn’t just save me, he saved my mouse and Mase. You can’t pay someone back for that kind of shit.

  “Will it?” Logan’s green eyes openly displayed his concern. “We don’t even know how he found out about The Piper.”

  “The guy who broke in called himself The Piper.” We both turned and looked at Junior. “He told me to give you this.” he added holding out a piece of paper.

  I recognized it immediately. Every note left by The Piper was on the same white card stock. Unfortunately, it was sold everywhere and too common to trace. I took the note from Junior and held it up.

  Little Boy Blue couldn’t bow his horn.

  Forced to watch the woman from who he was born.

  Where was the Knight who watches him sleep?

  He was at school, commanding his sheep.

  One by one, they will all fall.

  Mouse, Little Boy Blue, and King on the Wall.

  * * *

  Come play with me,

  The Piper

  “This guy’s really starting to piss me off,” Logan grumbled.

  Me too.

  I frowned at Junior. His left eye was swollen, and there were bruises on his wrists and ankles. The bastard tied him and up and forced him to watch his mother’s rape. Which from Junior’s reaction was nothing short of brutal. I may not give a fuck about Julia – this probably wasn’t the worst thing to happen to her – but Junior was mine.

  The Piper didn’t rape and torture Julia to get his rocks off. He did it to fuck with Junior and in turn, me. Julia was nothing more than a casualty of war. Because that’s exactly what this was, war. This motherfucker was drawing a line in the sand and daring me to cross.

  “Did you show this to my father?”

  “Yes,” Junior said, confirming my suspicions. “But I wouldn’t give it to him. That guy told me to give it to you, with a message.”

  My brow rose along with Logan’s. “What message?”

  “You can’t keep your mouse in a cage forever.”

  “Fuck!” Logan muttered. “Where is she right now?”

  “Her father took her home. I think Mase is with her.”

  Why didn’t that make me feel any better?

  “Where the fuck is Preston?”

  That was a good question. I’d been trying to get a hold of the asshole all day. “I don’t know.”

  Logan pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna send Parker and Silas over there.”

  I looked at him. How was he going to explain the sudden need for security detail, without telling them what was going on?

  “I know you’re trying to protect Mase, but your dad knows. This shit’s already out in the open.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” I said, as my eyes locked onto a scar that blended in with one of his tattoos.

  It was one of the many times Ryker burned him with a cigarette. ‘Toughening him up to be a real man’, he called it. I didn’t have to say anything more. Neither one of us want Mason to connect the dots and find out who his biological father was.

  Logan sighed. “All we have to tell them, is that someone threatened her. She was attacked the other day.”

  That reminded me, I was already in the hospital. I should pay that asshole another visit.

  “Alright.” I nodded for him to make the call.

  “Besides,” he shot me a sly smirk as he walked out the room, “after the way you looked at her this morning, you’d probably kill us all if anything happened to her.”

  I scrubbed my hand down my face. That was a fuck up. I don’t even know why I did it? Next thing, she’d be thinking I had feelings for her and using it as leverage. I’d remedy that shit when I saw her tonight. She called me the Antichrist, said I was a monster, but she was about find out just how much of a monster I was. It was time to remind my little mouse who was in charge. First, I had to deal with my father.

  “Micha?” Junior called out before I could leave the room.

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re gonna kill him, right?”

  Junior looked so small in that hospital bed with an IV in his arm.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna kill him.”

  “Good.” His eyes grew darker with his next words. “Make sure he suffers.”

  “He will,” I said and walked out, grabbing Logan on my way.

  My father’s office was on the third floor in the professional wing of the hospital. It wasn’t his regular office, which was in a building downtown, and one of Riley’s targets when she started painting shit. This office was just as well-decorated, though, with dark cherrywood bookshelves and a matching desk that took up half the room. Sitting in one of the black leather chairs, enjoying a drink when we walked in, was Preston.

  “Welcome to the shit show,” he said, holding up his glass.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Preston pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Logan. “You didn’t think he’d bust you two and not me, did you?”

  Logan eyed the smokes for second, before taking one. He normally only smoked when he drank. Given the situation, I was tempted to take one, and I’d never smoked in my life.

  “So, he went for
Junior?” Preston lit his cigarette and took a long pull. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

  I sat in the last empty chair and sighed. “Me either.”

  The Order had enemies, and I should’ve known Junior was a target. Should’ve protected him. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “This is a hospital,” my father said, marching in the room. “Put those out.”

  Preston rolled his eyes and dropped his smoke in the glass of scotch, while Logan continued to puff away.

  “What?” He shrugged when I looked at him. “I’m fucked anyway, may as well enjoy my last few minutes of life.”

  My father sat down behind the desk, making the leather chair creak. “No one will be dying today, son, now put that out.”

  I’d like to think that the entirety of my father’s knowledge was on the note Junior had. But I knew him. He would’ve started digging around the second he knew something was up. According to the doctors, Junior had been here since this morning. Since I wasn’t called until about an hour ago, my father had hours. He wouldn’t have told them to call me at all, unless he found something. The question was, what?

  My father sat forward and steepled his fingers under his chin. “So, who wants to start?”

  The key to handling this situation was finding out what he knew, before giving away any information. Unfortunately, Logan with us.

  “That depends,” Logan said, eyeing him suspiciously, “if you know anything about the tape?”

  I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, while Preston declared he needed something stronger to drink.

  “That’s what I love about you, my boy. I could sit here with Preston and my son for hours, and we’d be no further than we are right now.” My father chuckled. “But you . . . your impulsiveness will get you every time. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this secret for so many years is nothing short of impressive.”

  “So, you know?” I wasn’t going to give specifics. I’d leave that up to him.

  My father looked at me insulted. “Of course, I know. You boys didn’t think you could kill a King and I wouldn’t find out, did you? We all know. Have this whole time.”

  Okay, I’m officially confused.

  “Not that I’m arguing Logan’s life, but killing a King is punishable by death.”

  Logan shot me a dirty look, and I gave him an apologetic shrug.

  “Did either of you actually read the Charter?” My father tsk-ed. “It’s forbidden for another King to kill another King, and you boys aren’t kings yet.” When we just stared at him, he continued, “Ryker was a problem, one we couldn’t take care of ourselves. So, I arranged for him to pay a visit to the sheriff, because I knew my son wouldn’t be able to sit back, knowing that man was alone with his girl. Just like I knew Ryker would get the sheriff to sign the contract. Two problems solved at once. What neither of us expected, was for Logan to be the one to pull the trigger. Well done, son.”

  I was stunned. Not only did the Kings know we killed Ryker, but they planned that shit? “And you just let us think that Logan was going to die if anyone found out?”

  My father shrugged. “I thought it would help bond you boys.”

  Logan shook his head. “That’s fucked up.”

  “I gotta admit,” Preston said, “it’s kind of brilliant.”

  My friends were taking this much better than I was.

  “Riley’s mother was tortured!”

  “Yes,” my father nodded, “that was unfortunate. But I did make sure the girl wasn’t home that night, and kept her mother employed all these years, despite her lack of job performance.”

  I didn’t know what to say. While I was impressed at how flawlessly he pulled this shit off, I was contemplating testing the non-king, killing a King rule myself.

  “I’m confused,” Logan said. “What does this have to do with what happened to Junior?”

  “Ah, yes that.” My father slid open his desk drawer. “After I read the note the boy had, I pulled some images off the security camera at a gas station across the street from his apartment.”

  He slapped a picture down, and my heart stopped.

  Fuck!

  “It seems you boys didn’t do a very good job killing Ryker after all.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Riley

  It’s funny how two people who don’t like each other can suddenly band together. I thought when my dad brought me home, it would be the end of it. Nope. Chase not only followed us back, but he helped my dad give me the third degree. I definitely liked it better when they didn’t get along. The only thing that got me through it was thinking about Mason’s face.

  I was in for another surprise, when Shelby decided to show up with her little sister in tow. I could never deny Maggie. Her big eyes met mine, and any excuse I had to go somewhere else, went out the window. Maggie was nine now, but I still saw that blonde little girl, in a pink dress with red sneakers. Shelby knew it too. Just like she knew something was wrong.

  “Are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?” Shelby said, rummaging through my closet.

  “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

  She peeked her head out, and gave me a, ‘do you think I’m stupid’ look. “You know we’re happy for you, right? After everything you went through with your mom, you deserve a little luxury. You don’t have to shut us out.”

  “I’m not shutting you out.”

  Unable to look her in the eyes, I continued shading the phoenix’s wings. Because she was right, and Micha wasn’t the only reason. It was this house and all this stuff. I didn’t want people looking at me differently.

  “Uh huh?” she murmured unconvinced. “Trina says you haven’t been taking her calls?”

  I rolled my eyes up, glancing over my sketchbook. “When do I ever answer her calls?”

  While I liked Marnie, Trina annoyed me almost as much as Logan, and I spent most of my time with Logan looking for something to throw at him.

  “Fair enough,” Shelby said, disappearing back in my closet. “Tell me something Rye? You have a closet full of brand-new clothes, so why are you still wearing this crap?”

  “I happen to like my clothes,” I argued. “Besides I didn’t ask for any of that fancy stuff.”

  “Ah! So it’s a matter of principle then?”

  “Exactly.”

  “You know how stupid that sounds right?”

  “It’s not stupid,” I huffed.

  “No, no, you’re totally right. I wouldn’t want to wear these Chucks, either.”

  Chucks?

  I looked up eyeing the closet carefully. “What color?”

  Knowing Paisley, they were probably pink.

  “Which pair?”

  Just because Paisley got one thing right, didn’t mean anything. The rest of the closet was probably full of ballgowns and sparkly princess shirts. Then again, she did get me Chucks . . . I slipped off the bed and took a few steps closer.

  “Why is there a present in here?”

  I stopped.

  “Riley?” Shelby said, walking out with the pink box I’d stuffed in the back of my closet. “This is from your mom. Why haven’t you opened it?”

  I gritted my teeth at the perfectly tied red ribbon. That present was nothing more than another lie wrapped up in a pretty package.

  “You should open it.”

  “I don’t want to,” I grumbled, returning to my sketchbook on the bed.

  “Riley –”

  “Don’t.”

  Whatever was in the box labeled ‘for my precious daughter’, could stay in there, because it obviously wasn’t for me. People didn’t leave precious things behind.

  Shelby frowned. “Alright.”

  The room grew quiet as my pencil furious moved across the paper. Why didn’t I leave that present in our apartment? Shelby wasn’t going to let it go, because that’s what Shelby did. She tried to fix me. Been doing it our whole life. Telling me things would get better. That I was a survivor. But she w
as wrong. I wasn’t a survivor, because only the strong survived, and I wasn’t strong. A strong person could control their body. They wouldn’t be mesmerized by a pair of chocolate eyes.

  “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

  No, I wasn’t strong. I was broken and pathetic.

  “I’m a princess,” Maggie sang, waltzing out of the closet in a blue dress too big for her with jewelry draped around her neck and wrists.

  I knew there were dresses in there.

  “Yes, you are,” I said, giving her the biggest smile I could muster.

  Maggie giggled and did a little curtesy. Even at her young age, there was no denying she’d be a knockout like her sister. She had the same pretty face, golden hair, and big brown eyes as Shelby. And Shelby could give Naomi a run for her money. In fact, I’d be willing to bet if a guy had a choice between my best friend and Naomi, they’d pick Shelby.

  The only reason she wasn’t queen bee of Ashen Springs High, was because she didn’t fit the stereotype. My best friend was a conundrum. She did the typical girly things, getting her nails done, doing her hair, and dressing up. Shelby also didn’t hesitate to dive headfirst in a greasy engine.

  Maggie jumped up on the bed next to me. “I like your house.”

  “She’s got a pool, too,” Shelby called out.

  Maggie shrieked excitedly. “Can I go swimming?”

  “Uh, sure,” I muttered, staring at the necklace around her neck.

  My eyes ran over the rose pendant, pausing on the small chip on the farthest left petal. It couldn’t be? My grandma had one just like it, but I hadn’t seen it in years. Mom sold it to pay bills. Still . . .

  I reached out tenderly, lifting the pendant. “Where did you get this?”

  “In the jewelry box,” Maggie said, pointing at the closet. “There’s all kinds of neat stuff in there see.” She held up her arm displaying a bracelet. The charms on it had me stunned – a ballet slipper, a wine glass, a puppy, and a flute . . . Just like Mom’s.

  I was too focused on the jewelry to notice Shelby had joined us, until she said, “Is that your Mom’s…”