by Angel Lawson
Theo shakes his head. “We had her back.”
“Did you? Or did you just have a deal that you implemented at your convenience.” I glance at Gray. I’d seen the video of them together. “How far did that arrangement go? Did you really care for her or did you just take advantage of the situation?”
Gray hops up from his seat and rushes at me. I stand and hold my ground. “I didn’t take advantage of her. What happened between us was real.”
“Do you think she knew that?”
“I told her so, yeah.” His forehead furrows, and he steps back. I return to my seat. “I’ll admit though that much of the time we were close, we were doing it for show, trying to fool the other students.”
He curses under his breath, and I look at Hawk. “What about that night at the party? Was that the drugs or something else?”
He looks at me, eyes a hard steel. “I don’t know. It was confusing.”
“It didn’t look confusing,” Gray says. “It looked like if she hadn’t passed out, things would have gone a lot further.”
Hawk doesn’t deny anything, and an uncomfortable vibration of energy settles in the room as the truth comes out. We may have been mind-fucking Eden as much as anyone else.
“I told her I needed time,” Theo says, eyes flicking at each of us. “We kissed in the pool, but I was still unsteady. I wanted to be the best for her.”
“So one of you was honest.”
“I knew she was struggling. She told me during our swim lessons. The weight of her father’s death, her mother’s addiction, Hope’s disappearance. She worried about the female students and fought daily to face her fears.” He frowns and looks at me. “I should have told you that she was having a hard time.”
“What about you,” Hawk asks, his tone accusatory. “What did you do to her?”
I grip the arms of the chair. “I’m just as guilty as the rest of you. I hid behind my job, unwilling to be the person she needed me to be. Eden didn’t need a therapist. She needed someone to lead you all. Set the pace.” I look at Hawk, knowing I’m likely stepping on toes, but I’m surprised to see he’s watching me closely. “We thought she was strong enough to go toe-to-toe with Trip. We left her to the wolves, so caught up in the game-play of it all, so afraid to admit our real feelings, that we left her vulnerable.”
“What do you think we should do?” Gray asks.
“Find her. Tell her the truth and then help her heal.”
Hawk shifts on the couch. “What if she doesn’t want to see us?”
“Then we’ll deal with that at the time, but we can’t let this end like this.”
For once in their lives they don’t argue, signaling that I’d been right. This went way beyond any sort of fake arrangement. They cared for her, as much as I do, and although I’m not in a position to act on my feelings, there’s no reason they can’t figure this out. If she’s willing.
Gray’s phone buzzes, and he reaches for it on the coffee table. He reads the message and his eyebrow raises.
“Is it her?” Hawk asks.
“It’s Rochelle.”
As a group, we lean forward. “And?” I ask.
“We’ve been invited to a party.”
3
Eden
New Year’s Eve fell on a Wednesday night—three days before we returned to Sparrowood. Rochelle felt like this was the perfect time to make a statement, to show the Cohen brothers, Trip in particular, that they haven’t broken me.
I don’t care how good my hair looks, blown out and curled, or how firm my ass is in a six-hundred-dollar pair of leather pants and matching halter, or the fact I’ve been scrubbed, primped, and made up to look like I belong on the cover of a magazine, the hole I feel in my heart didn’t go away.
Even dressed up in this glamorous costume, I feel shattered.
As usual, the only motivation getting me out the door is Hope.
Rochelle’s driver picks us up in front of the apartment, and she gives him the address. The party is at the same mountain house I went to with Hawk. One thing has nagged at me for days, and as we climb the winding roads, I ask, “You hooked up with Tyson, right?”
She holds up a gold compact and applies a coat of deep red lipstick. “Yeah, I told you then, I was still paying off my debt.” She glances at me. “I had no idea he was dating your sister, though.”
I believe that. These guys are lying, manipulative snakes.
“Listen,” I say to her, “no drugs tonight. No drinking. I need to be clear-headed, and I need you there to back me up.”
“Got it,” she says, “I’m totally your wing-woman.”
My nerves amp up as we get closer to the lights up on the mountain. Something happened to me when I let Trip dominate me like that. I lost a part of myself—a part that carried confidence. I let a Brat get the best of me, and I couldn’t shake it.
The driver pulls into the paved driveway. The house is decorated for the holidays; twinkling lights wrapped around topiaries and two massive evergreen wreaths on the door.
Rochelle reaches out and touches my hand. “We’re here for the truth, Eden, nothing more. You don’t have to prove anything tonight, other than the fact you deserve answers, and you’re still standing.”
I get out of the car and meet Ro by the front door. Like last time, loud thumping music vibrates through the windows. Mostly older, college-age students crowd around the windows. Ro leads the way. I’m not sure she’s really afraid of anything, which is so weird to me because it’s hard not to see her as a victim. It may be that's because she’s not. She’s a survivor.
As we walk in the house, eyes shift our way. I wonder if they recognize me from video Trip’s spread around, but it’s not recognition in their eyes, it’s appraisal. Rochelle’s expensive makeover has done the trick. The boys' eyes hold desire. The girls' envy.
It’s then I remember I’m in a game. Always the game. I straighten my shoulders and stride through the room, looking for what I came for.
Off the front room I see a cluster of familiar faces. Adam, Mitchell, Phillip. Denise and her crew tip back cups of punch. Adam’s eyes widen when he sees me, nudging Mitch with his elbow. I feel their gaze sweep down my body, then back up. I pretend they don’t linger on my mouth and lips.
“Keep walking,” Ro says in my ear. “We’ll deal with them later.”
I cross the threshold of a small sitting room and hear a ringing laugh. I stop short and grip my friend’s arm.
“What?” she asks. “Do you see Trip?”
“No. I hear Hope.”
The moment that I’ve built up for months, all my fears, my worries, my panic. It all cumulates at a gaudy, Brat-fueled holiday party filled with excess and entitlement. That’s what propels me forward. The fact I had to track her down here, of all places. In my enemy’s home.
I push through the crowd and see an older, slightly less handsome version of Trip sitting on a leather chair. There’s a friendly smile on his lips and his hand is snaked around the waist of thin wisp of a girl, bent over and laughing with a girl next to her.
Tyson and I make eye contact and his grin falters, just for a second, and his hand squeezes the thigh of the girl on his lap. She sits up, gold necklace swaying against her chest, blue eyes unfocused until they meet mine and snap into place.
“Eden,” my sister says, her voice a distant whisper.
Her breasts are pushed together, and a thin strip of her belly is revealed. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen her expose so much skin. But her gaze travels over me, and I see the same questions flicker across her expression.
“We need to talk.” I say. “Alone.”
“Everybody out,” Tyson says, directing his guests to leave the little room. It feels hot and my leather pants are too tight. He eases Hope off his lap, and they both stand, Tyson moving toward the door.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Eden. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I’m sure.”
His eyes flick betwe
en my breasts and my mouth. My fists coils tight. I don’t want to punch him, but I will. He seems to realize it and says, “We’ll give you some space.”
“We’ll” is Rochelle, and I witness him wink at Ro, before shutting the door behind them with a quiet click.
A shudder ripples across my skin. The Cohen brothers are relentless.
I’ve kept my eyes on my sister this whole time. The whole entire time, trying to process that she’s in front of me. Alive and well. I cross the space and say, “You’re alive.”
She laughs and throws her arms around me. The diamond on her hand glinting. “Of course I’m alive.”
She’s warm. Real. Expensive perfume I recognize as the one Camille wore at school lingers on her neck. Anger mixes with the relief. I push her away. “How could you leave like that? Without telling me? Do you know how worried I was? How scared? And the whole time you were fine. Better than fine.”
She eyes my clothing, my hair and jewelry. “You don’t look like you’re doing so bad yourself. I like your hair like that.”
Rage. That’s what I feel at her flippant response. I stare at her, trying to see a trace of the sister grew up with. “What’s happened to you?”
“The same thing that’s happened to you, Eden. We found a way out of the Park. Out of that absolute hellhole. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“You abandoned Mom.”
“Didn’t you?”
“Actually,” I say, “I got her help. She’s safe and in treatment. Unlike you, I take care of my own.”
Something flickers in her eyes, an emotion—finally. Her lips curl. “You think I didn’t do this to take care of you?” She laughs. “You realize I’m not the one they wanted, right? That I was the consolation prize. I did this to protect you, dear sister.”
“What are you talking about?”
She reaches for a glass filled with brown liquid and drinks it in one swallow. “The Brats, Trip specifically, he’s wanted you for a long time, but you were too young, too…innocent. I ran interference for you, made sure the K-Boys were watching over you. And I took one for Team Warren.”
I laugh, a loud, real laugh. “If you thought you were saving me from Trip, then you’re a bigger idiot than I realized.” I narrow my eyes. “You could have told me about him. About how they are. You could have warned me away from their games.”
Something in her expression falters and comprehension takes over. “The guys didn’t protect you?”
That question has a complicated answer, one I’m not sure even I can answer. “This isn’t about the K-Boys, Hope. And it isn’t about the fucking Cohen brothers, either. This is about me and you. Why did you leave?”
She picks up her drink and takes a huge gulp. “I told you, I wanted out. I loathed being poor, Eden. I loathed The Park. I would do anything to get out of there and when Tyson offered me the opportunity, I took it.”
“Even with the price tag?”
There’s always a price tag with the Cohens. Always.
“Yeah, even then. It was worth the sacrifice.”
I grab her hand and hold up her ring. “Yes, this looks like a huge sacrifice.”
She snatches her hand away and I realize how unsteady she is on her feet. “It was best for you to just think I was gone—that I ran away or honestly, was dead. You were supposed to stay away from all of this, but somehow you ended up here anyway.”
“When are people going to learn that keeping things from me isn’t protecting me? When will you all realize I get a say in my life, and when information is withheld, I have to make drastic decisions?” I swallow back the pain. “You don’t know what I had to do to get here. To find you.”
“I can imagine.” She exhales. “He’s probably plotting a threesome right now.”
As much as I want to slap the filthy thought from her mouth, I can’t. She’s probably right.
I take a deep breath and exhale. “Fuck them. Now that we’ve found one another, we can leave. Put this behind us and walk away. Mom is almost done with her treatment and we can start somewhere new. I know people that can help us.”
Dorian. Dorian will help us.
She shakes her head. “I’m not leaving, Eden.”
I frown. “What are you talking about? Tyson doesn’t love you. He’s probably out there fucking Rochelle as we speak.”
“I don’t want to go back,” she says quietly. “I won’t. Even if what you say is true, that Mom is better and we can start over, it’ll never be like what I have now. Do you think I can pay for school on my own? I’m only passing because Trip gives me the tests. I only have access because I’m connected to Tyson. I’m not risking any of that.”
I look at my sister. Really look at her.
“At what cost?”
She lifts her chin. “One I’m willing to pay.”
“You’d rather be a whore than with your family.”
“In this world it’s not a whore, not like back home on the streets. Here, it’s part of the game. It’s how their whole society operates.” She laughs. “It’s not like I don’t get my share. Sure, I have to make some sacrifices, but everything is taken care of; my housing, my clothing, my education. It’s a fair trade off.”
Fair? I think of almost drowning. Of Hawk beating Luke to a pulp. Trip pushing me to my knees.
I shake my head. “You never did this for me. It was for yourself. God, you’re selfish and disgusting. You left me to the wolves, and you know it.”
“You had to grow up sometime, Eden.”
Fury rises up, washing away the taste of disgust I’ve had in my mouth for days. I lunge at my sister, reaching for her neck. She reacts quickly, slamming into my chest. We grapple until we’re caught in an impasse, breathing heavy, eyes locked.
“I don’t care if you hate me,” she says, “but after years of looking after you and Mom and dodging her disgusting boyfriends, I got out. And it looks like you did, too. Don’t waste your opportunity. You’re smart, beautiful, and clever. Own this game, Eden, own them.”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
She pushes me off, chest heaving. She tugs at her shirt and brushes her hair over her shoulders. “Maybe, but at least there’s a roof over my head, food in the refrigerator, and four-thousand count sheets in my bed. But let me give you a little tip; Trip Cohen wants you, and sometimes it’s easier to give in than to fight.” She pushes past me, hand reaching for the door. She looks me up and down. “But I think you already learned that.”
She opens the door and steps into the party, loud and boisterous on the other side. I lean against the chair and Rochelle walks in, concern on her face.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
I look out the door and see my sister, arm slung around Tyson’s waist. All this time I thought I knew her, and I thought she needed my help.
Turns out that wasn’t the truth at all.
4
Gray
One good thing about growing up as part of a group like the K-Boys is an innate sense of confidence. We start off as ratty little kids, stealing from the corner store and standing look-out, then evolve to enforcers, dealers, and thieves. Confidence is possessed, not given, although it develops over time. It’s the swagger. The self-assuredness. The ego that keeps us alive. Every K-Boy has it, and that’s what carries the three of us into a party we’re not really invited to, hosted by our enemy, looking for a girl that doesn’t want to see us.
Hawk, who’s been here before, takes the lead. Something shifted in him after Dorian called us out. All of us. We’d spent the last two weeks wallowing in our own anger and disillusionment, but he’s right, this girl is too important to us to let the Brats take her down. We mind-fucked her as much as Trip or Luke. We owe her better than that.
If she’ll give us a chance.
The party is crowded, and it’s late enough that people have had a few drinks, if not something stronger. As we pass through the rooms, I don’t see Eden or Rochelle until we get to the back porch. That’s w
hen I spot her by the bannister.
Hawk takes a deep breath. We’ve agreed to let him take point. He needs to fix this. He walks directly to her and steps into view. Eden looks up and—
“What the hell?” I ask, thinking we’ve entered an alternate universe.
“That’s…” Theo says, forehead creased.
“Not her,” Hawk says.
Hope.
“Sawyer Hawkins,” she says, her voice tired. “It’s been a long time.”
“You’re…” Theo starts, having a hard time forming sentences. I don’t blame him. Seeing Hope in the flesh, looking so much like her sister but covered in bling and sparkle.
“Alive? Here? A sell-out?” She lights a cigarette and inhales. “Don’t worry. I’ve been told.”
“Where is she?” Hawk asks.
She waves her hand toward the house. “In there, either crying her eyes out or plotting her revenge.”
“You don’t seem worried about either,” I say.
Hope’s eyes sweep over the three of us. “You’ve got pretty big balls coming into this house after what you did to Trip.”
Hawk laughs. “To Trip? He tried to destroy us.”
“And failed, I see.” She takes another drag, smoke wafting from her lips. “Messing with Trip’s face is one thing, but messing with his income? That’s another. You’ve got a target on your back, and they’ll be happy to string you limb-from-limb.”
“Do we look scared?” I ask.
She rolls her eyes. “No, but you’re idiots, and somehow you and my sister have completely gotten yourselves tied up in these people.”
“Looks like you have, too.” I nod at the massive engagement ring.
“It’s what I wanted, but we both know Eden is not like this. She’s tough as nails, but she’s not dirty like these people.” She stubs out the cigarette on the wooden railing. “Get her out of here and away from this world. Like I told her, I’m not the one they want.”