Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series

by J Bree

  Avery sleeps eight hours straight that night.

  Seniors at Hannaford get a week off after our finals.

  I take this time to catch up on sleep because my body just can’t get enough at the moment. Avery decides that a spring cleaning of both of our rooms is required and when Blaise tries to bitch her out about it she tells him she’ll burn all of his guitars if he doesn’t help.

  I stay in bed.

  After three days of this my skin is itching with the irritation of being stuck in one place with nothing to do, so I drag everyone into an emergency college meeting because we all seem to have forgotten we’re supposed to be going to freaking college next year.

  I get the sweats thinking we’ve missed all of the cut off dates to apply.

  Avery sets a plate of freshly baked cookies on the table and rolls her eyes at me. She’s going through a ‘homemaking’ phase as Harley and I are very secretly calling it and I swear to god I’m going to triple my weight by the time she’s done with it. These cookies are to freaking die for.

  She smooths down her skirt as she sits so everything is just so. “Whatever college you want to go to Lips, they’ll take you. Between your GPA and finals scores, and the cash we’ll throw at them, we’re in anywhere. Just pick and I’ll make some phone calls.”

  Blaise pops the cap off of his beer and clears his throat. “Can we talk about taking a gap year? I’ve been talking to Finn about doing a tour and now that Lips is insisting I actually go to college with you lot… it’ll clash. Plus I think we need to take some time and actually breathe for a minute now we’re not being… you know, actively hunted like deer or whatever.”

  It’s the weirdest little speech but I also feel like a tight fist in my chest loosens off a bit. Like maybe we do need a minute. Maybe I need a minute.

  Harley watches my face closely and then nods to Blaise. “Yeah, that’s what we’re doing. She needs this.”

  I snag another cookie and shove half of it straight into my mouth, talking around it like a savage, “We’re going to live at the ranch, right? Like tour on a bus or whatever but our home is the ranch still? I want to unpack my bags and know that they’re staying like that for… a while.”

  Avery clears her throat and pegs me with a gentle but stern look. “Wherever I live, you live, Lips. Us leaving Hannaford doesn’t mean you need to get your own place… or decide how the hell the four of you are going to go about a plural relationship outside of school. You live with me until you want to live somewhere else. That’s how we work.”

  Harley groans. “Are you going to get jumpy and weird about this shit now because school is ending? Can we just have fucking normal for five minutes?”

  I honestly don’t know how to do normal, but I nod my head anyway, just to keep him happy.

  And we do get normal for a little while. We go back to Avery dancing and snarking us all out when she can. We get Blaise drinking a little too much at all times and singing at random times to piss Harley off. Harley goes to swim practice and the gym everyday and kisses me sweetly overnight when he crawls into my bed to hold me desperately like he can still see the blood on me when he closes his eyes.

  Ash acts as though he didn’t tear a man apart with his bare hands and a few small swipes of my knife. He spends a lot of time either at the gym with Harley or out picking fights in the halls with unsuspecting students. He sleeps in Avery’s bed every night, even though her nightmares have stopped, because she’s better but she’s still not okay.

  We let ourselves forget that the Jackal was only a third of our issues, right up until our week off comes to an abrupt end.

  I’m sitting on the couch in Ash’s lap when he gets the message.

  We’re watching some shitty thriller movie with the family, Blaise sprawled out on the floor and Avery tucked into Harley’s side, helping him find parts online for his ’Stang. I feel the phone buzz in Ash’s pocket but I ignore it, content to just soak Ash in. I miss waking up with him, not that I’d ever say that to anyone because the twins need each other right now, but I’m enjoying this while I have it.

  Ash stares down at his phone, his body rigid under mine and I curse viciously under my breath. “What now?”

  He stares at me for a second and then hits play on a voicemail and Senior’s void-like drawl fills the room. I get freaking chills from the sound of it.

  “I’ve spent the evening looking over your work on the Jackal. I had an old friend send me through the files on it. Well done, son. I thought I’d lost all chances of having a legacy when your slut killed Junior. I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands and I’m calling you home to me. Something has gone wrong in your upbringing, that you can only torture men, but now that Morningstar has arrived to take your sister, we can get you back on the right track. Say your good-byes now, Alexander. Your pathetic little family will be taken care of, your sister will be owned by the Devil and you… you’re coming home.”

  Morningstar has gone back on his word.

  Fuck.

  Sweet merciful lord, fuck.

  He never did call me back; whatever Senior has offered him must be big. My eyes snap shut and I take a second to breathe. Can’t I catch a fucking break? I just wanted my family safe and left the hell alone and now this.

  “We’ve survived the Jackal, only to be taken out by some dickhead called the Devil? Fuck this,” Blaise snaps, stomping off to the fridge to find the beer.

  Avery’s hands have a fine tremble in them as she picks up her phone. “Should I call Atticus? Do we call the Boar? I need you to tell me what to do, Lips.”

  I know what we need to do, and none of them will like it. “Don’t worry about it, Aves. Let’s just get through graduation on Monday and then I’ll deal with it. I’ve already made some calls, I have some things in place. Don’t think about it until then.”

  Harley eyes me, aware of just how bad Morningstar really is, but I keep my face so fucking blank he’ll never see through it. Finally he nods, and I don’t let my relief show either.

  I know then that there’s nothing I can do to stop Senior, without driving myself up to the manor and killing him myself. I don’t even really know if that will stop Morningstar from finding us, but it’ll get one thing off of our plate. All of our caution and careful planning goes out the fucking window because I’m not letting Avery get hurt again. I’m not letting anything happen to Ash, I’m not having Harley lose more family or Blaise lose his best friends. It’s just not fucking happening. Maybe the Jackal hit something vital but not life threatening inside me when he stabbed me because I feel reckless but also I’m just fucking done.

  I’m not in a state to go, not at all, but there’s no way I can take the guys with me and Illi is still dealing with the fallout of the Jackal. The streets of the Bay have never been so dangerous, so chaotic and lawless. Now is the best time to go and deal with this man by myself.

  Blaise and Harley sleep in my bed, and the twins sleep together in Avery’s bed like they have every other night since Avery was taken. I lay there, silent and still, until I’m sure they’re all asleep. Then I lay there a little longer just to be sure.

  I slip out of bed, extra quiet, the way I had last year when the Jackal summoned me downstairs. I stare down at Ash for a second and I know, deep in my twisted and crookedly healed bones, that not only do I love him, but I’d die for him. Happily, and with such fucking conviction. He’ll hate me, he’ll fucking loathe me for leaving him again, but I have to. He can find someone else to love, they all can.

  I could never live without them now.

  I make it downstairs without any interruptions, then I boost the Cadillac exactly how Harley showed me. I hate driving, it’s not something I’m particularly good at, but I get onto the highway and start the journey to the end.

  Whether it’s the end of Senior and the demons hunting us, or the end of me I don’t know.

  But it’s the end.

  I wait until there’s some distance between the school and me b
efore I make the call.

  The Boar picks up on the first ring, like he’s never too busy for little old me. It’s fucking weird. He’s obviously at his clubhouse, the noise is unmistakable and earsplitting.

  “I need you to do something for me,” I say, and he growls out orders for silence. The din quiets and I go on. “I need you to approach my family if… if what I’m about to do kills me. I need my diamonds to go to my sister. You said shit was hard for her? I want her to be set up, to get out of whatever life her junkie mom has left her in. I have close to thirty million dollars worth. Put it in a trust or something so she’s taken care of. The combination to my safe is Harley’s birthday, get it off of him. Avery will square it with him.”

  The Boar grunts at me again and growls, “Kid, where the fuck are you? Tell me so I can at least try to help. I have… someone nearby. Just tell me where you are.”

  I laugh, a hollow sound but fuck it, I’ve always had a dark sense of humor. “I’m about to go have dinner with a serial killer. My life is crazy bad, but it’s all been worth it.”

  Ok, so I’m being a little dramatic but fuck it, I kind of think I’ll be dead before help arrives so I think I should be given a pass.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I park the Cadillac up the street from the Beaumont Manor. I get out immediately and grab my bag, slinging it over my shoulder gingerly. My wounds are better but still not fully healed. I’d taken some painkillers, nothing too strong, just to help me move for a few hours. Hopefully that’s all I’ll need.

  My phone buzzes as I start to walk.

  There’s no one on the streets, it’s the middle of the fucking night, so I don’t hesitate in answering it. If I’m going to be yelled at by one of the guys I need to give myself the time to clear my head before I go in.

  What’s the chances that Senior will be asleep and I can gut him quietly?

  Probably not great.

  “Where the fuck are you?” Ash’s voice doesn’t sound like his usual ice, it’s fifty degrees colder than sub zero.

  “I’m fixing the problem. Go back to bed,” I whisper but I can hear them all moving and slamming doors in the background.

  “You promised me. You promised me last year you wouldn’t pull this shit again. Are you there already? Are you at his house?” Ash hisses, and I give myself thirty seconds to be weak and girlie and tear up. Then I’ll be hollow and carved out and nothing but the Wolf.

  “I told you I wouldn’t choose,” Ash says in a flat, cold voice when I don’t answer. He knows where I am.

  I wince but I can’t back out now. I look up at the Beaumont Manor, clutching the wound at my side. The drugs are only making it bearable to move, but by no means am I pain-free.

  “I’m not making you choose, I’ve made the decision for us all. I’m the expendable one. I’m the one that can do this. I swear to you, Ash, he’s not getting out of tonight alive. No matter the cost, you and Avery will be safe. I’ve done this before, I can do it tonight.”

  I hear car doors and yelling. I have two hours to get this done before they get here. It’s doable.

  A car engine roars to life and Ash snarls at me, “You aren’t fucking expendable. You’re nonnegotiable. You’re everything I’ve ever fucking wanted and needed, and you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

  I swipe my cheeks and clear my throat. “I love you, Ash. I love you and I won’t ever let this man touch you again. That’s the line I’m drawing. I can do this.”

  He groans, then snaps, “I’m not saying it over the phone. You’ll stay alive so I can say it to your face.”

  Arrogant until the end, but I hope he’s right.

  “Tell Harley and Blaise I’m sorry too. Tell them I love them and tell Avery I love her too, that she’s the best fucking thing that ever happened to me. That being her friend has been the greatest fucking honor and if I die, she’s worth it. You all made this entire fucked up life of mine… worth it.” I rip the phone away from my ear before I can hear his reply, ending the call and shoving it in my pocket before I break down completely.

  The first step is the hardest to take, but the second I do my feet don’t stop.

  It ends tonight.

  I’m expecting to have to take out a whole hoard of Senior’s thugs to find the serial killer himself but the closer I get to the house, the more I realize how alone I really am here. It’s as if he’s cleared the whole place out for me but I didn’t exactly call ahead and tell him I was on my way. The psycho probably thinks he’s enough to take me on by himself and, fuck, he might be. With the stitches still fresh in my gut, he just fucking might be.

  My original plan is to scale the outer wall and catch the psycho fuck by surprise but the closer to the monstrosity that is the Beaumont Manor I get, the more I know that something is not right here.

  I get a bad fucking feeling about walking into this place tonight.

  Then I see the blood.

  I tighten my grip on the strap of my bag as I walk up the steps of the manor, through the river of blood streaming down them. It looks like a fucking horror movie, nothing like the refined facade I was expecting to walk in to, and I pull my knife out of my pocket as I step through the already open doors.

  Holy. Fuck.

  Senior’s gone off the fucking rails and killed all of his own men.

  There’s pieces of them everywhere, blood and bone and innards spread around like they’re fucking nothing. Jesus H. Christ, an arm here and a leg hanging there… I take it all in for just a second, long enough to scout out for danger or clues, and then I ignore it all and stalk through the gore.

  I need to replace these shoes the second I make it out of here alive. Just burn them and my clothes because there’s no amount of scrubbing that will wash this scene away from them.

  There’s no sounds of fighting or dying men, the whole place is as silent as the grave and it’s eerie as fuck. I try not to let shivers take over my body but something here feels fucking wrong. More than just Senior, something truly fucking bad is going on here.

  I give myself a shake as I move silently through the house. My plan has gone out the freaking window, I’d guessed at this time the psycho would be asleep, but every light is the place is on and there isn’t a single room without a dead body in it.

  The fuck is going on?

  I climb the stairs and head for Senior’s private rooms. I know he has his own wing and that all of his evil happens there, but I guess tonight his evil happens every-fucking-where. I have to make it past Avery’s and Ash’s rooms to get there and, oh look, dead guys are piled in their rooms too.

  I make a note to burn this place to the ground before Avery ever has to see it.

  The Jackal has done enough damage to my Ice Queen, I don’t need this serial killer doing anything else to her to her head.

  The hallway that leads to Senior’s rooms is dark and gloomy but there’s less death up here. The plush carpet doesn’t squish under my feet like the one downstairs. The only fucked up thing up here seems to be the paintings of the Beaumont’s ancestors on the walls and, fuck, that’s because they all look a little deranged. I make a note to ask Avery if there’s any fucking normal in their bloodlines, on their father’s side at least. Their mom sounded nice enough, just had shit taste in men.

  The painting of Joey makes my skin crawl.

  I’m busy trying not to tear the thing off the wall and shred it with my knife when the door at the end opens and Senior himself steps out. He’s wearing a suit and looks as unruffled as the day I met him at that fucking dinner. There’s a gun in his hand, not pointing at me yet but the threat is still clear. I slow my steps and he smirks at me.

  “You’ve caught me at a bad time, Wolf, but I suppose I can make an exception for the little slut that stole my son.”

  Well, here we fucking go.

  I shrug. “I’ve been looking forward to finally dealing with you so I’m sorry but it can’t wait.”

  The smirk only grows and he gestures for
me to enter his rooms. “Ladies first.”

  Like fuck. “As I’m sure you’ll love to point out to me, there are no ladies here. After you, Beaumont.”

  It feels weird calling him that, something I usually reserve for Ash when he’s being an arrogant dick, but calling him Senior seems wrong as well. He turns his back on me, like there’s no chance I’d be able to stab him or slit his throat from behind, and I try not to get pissy about it. I need a clear head.

  He leads me through three very luxurious rooms until we get to what is obviously his killing room. The only luxury in this room is the single plush seat sitting next to a small, fully stocked bar. I imagine this is where he watches the girls he’s torturing scream and writhe in pain, sipping a fucking bourbon and enjoying the show.

  Fucking gross.

  The table that Ash described to me is sitting in the center of the room, all of the lights on the ceiling pointing towards it so it’s the centerpiece of this sick spectacle. The bench he has with all of his carefully cleaned tools is pretty standard, nothing unexpected on it. There’s a security camera setup and as the views flick through the screen I doubt there’s a single inch of this property that doesn’t have surveillance. Jesus, Alice never stood a chance against this fucking psycho.

  He notices my eyes and walks over to the screens, again giving me his back. I slide my bag down to the ground, it was only ever here to take him out if he was asleep, and I make sure my knife is open and ready in my pocket.

  Senior looks up from the security camera. “It seems my guest is making a mess of the place. I suppose this is what happens when you invite the lower classes over to play. He showed such promise, I really thought he might be able to reach Alexander but he’s turned out to be such a disappointment.”