“Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes,” my aunt tells him then whispers, “Last night was amazing.” She gives him a lustful look then struts off toward the stairs.
I nearly vomit in my mouth at not only the idea of them having sex, but if they were last night, then it might have been right after he …
I dry heave. Thankfully, I haven’t eaten anything or I might have puked all over myself.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” My uncle approaches as he readjusts his belt.
“I’m not looking at you.” I step back into my room and move to shut the door.
He slams his hand against the door and holds it open. “You better start being more respectful toward me. I’ve got a whole list of words waiting to be carved into that pretty little flesh of yours.”
So many words burn at the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them down, too tired and sore to get into it with him this morning.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He grins, but a trace of disappointment reflects in his eyes. Still, he seems pretty damn chipper as he turns around and whistles as he walks away.
Flipping the middle finger at his back, I close the door. Then I grab a pillow, press it against my face, and scream. I scream until my lungs about burst. Until my chest aches.
I scream until I have nothing in me.
Then I lower the pillow from my face and sink down onto the bed, my gaze dropping to my scarred wrist.
Sometimes I think about doing it again—slicing open my wrist and trying to bleed the pain out. Maybe I will one day, finally take that final step that will take me into an endless fall toward nothingness. It’s what I almost thought was going to happen yesterday when I jumped off that bridge. But I didn’t and now I’m here, because Zay jumped in and pulled me up from the fall.
Part of me secretly hates him for doing it. For not just letting me keep falling forever.
But he did and now I’m here, walking around, feeling like I’m wobbling on the edge of a cliff that I could tip off of at any moment.
Fall, Raven. Just let yourself fall.
Maybe one day…
Soon…
Blowing out a breath, I drag my ass off the bed and start getting ready for school.
I decide on a black, short-sleeved shirt, with shorts, fishnet tights, and clunky boots. Then I put on a choker, my leather jacket, tie a plaid jacket around my waist, and call it good. I don’t even bother doing my hair, just combing it to the side with my fingers. Then I dab on my usual minimal makeup—kohl eyeliner and lip gloss.
I go over to my computer chair where my bag always is, but then I remember I left it at school.
Shit. I didn’t even think about that until now. Just like I didn’t think about how I have an absence for the last half of the day. I’m surprised my aunt didn’t mention getting a call that I ditched school. Not that she cares. She just likes to make fun of me for being a loser and a “soon-to-be dropout.”
But my aunt is the least of my problems. If this school works like my other, I’ll get detention for the unexcused absence. So yeah, my day is going to be awesome.
I also don’t have my iPod with me, so entering school is going to be an anxiety nightmare. It’s my security blanket when people stare and whisper. And now I have to ride the bus …
“Dammit, Zay, Jax, and Hunter,” I grumble, even though I’m not sure that I’m really mad at them. Maybe I’m just irritated about my life. About the shittiness of it.
Feeling way too worked up, I decide to take a hit or two before I head out to the bus stop. Hopefully, that’ll keep me chill long enough to get to my locker without panicking.
Grabbing a joint from my new secret spot—the inside of one of my old boots—I collect my lighter from my dresser drawer, lock my bedroom door, open the window, and then duck my head out. I pop the end of the joint between my lips, light up, and suck in a deep inhale.
Smoke laces in front of my face as I sit down on the windowsill, holding the joint outside while staring out at the scenery. The house I now call home is located in a small neighborhood of about ten houses, each spaced apart by at least five acres, so the chances of someone spotting me are pretty low. Just below my window is an inclined roof to the porch, and just in front of that is the dirt driveway lined with trees. And currently cruising down that driveway, leaving a trail of dust in the air, is the prettiest Chevelle I’ve ever seen.
My dad used to be into cars. Up until he died, he drove a 1969 GTO Judge that was this really pretty light-blue color. This car is a similar shade but has a black hood. I’m not positive about the year, but I’d guess either a ’68 or ’69.
I watch as it pulls up to the house and parks next to my uncle’s patrol vehicle. No one gets out right away, so I take another hit, waiting to see who the owner is. My bet is one of my uncle’s new police buddies. Or maybe a neighbor. But then the passenger door opens and Jax climbs out.
No effing way.
I shake my head, sure I’m hallucinating. I glance at the joint. Is this laced with something? When I look back at the driveway, though, Jax is still there, standing beside the pretty as hell car.
He’s dressed in a black shirt and matching jeans. Leather bands ornament his wrists, his facial piercing glint in the sunlight, and his inky black hair hangs in his eyes.
He doesn’t notice me as he gazes at the lower section of the house. Then he turns toward the car, makes a signal with his fingers, and Hunter climbs out of the passenger side from the back seat.
He’s wearing an all-black outfit, too, but his pants have pockets on the sides and a chain dangles from his beltloop. He’s also sporting a short-sleeved shirt and has a knitted cap on his head, strands of his blond hair dangling out from it. Even from up here, he still looks too gorgeous to be real. Maybe he’s not. Maybe none of this is. Maybe I really did die in that water yesterday and this is hell.
Hell looks really good from up here, though.
I shake my head at my own stupid thoughts. Jesus, this thing must really be laced with something.
But that doesn’t stop me from smoking some more.
My gaze shifts across them and to the driver’s seat as I take another hit. The windows are too tinted to see inside, but I’m betting Zay is sitting there.
So they’re here, in my driveway. But why—
Dixie May let out a squeal from downstairs.
“Oh my God, Mom! You’re never going to believe this!” She squeals again. “There are these guys that go to my school, and they’re seriously, like, the hottest guys I’ve ever seen. Everyone wants to be with them, but they, like, never pay attention to anyone, though I talked to them for a little bit yesterday morning in first period. But anyway, they’re outside in the driveway! Oh my God, I wonder if they’re here to give me a ride to school or something. That’d be amazing!”
“Oh, honey, that is amazing!” My aunt sounds just as excited.
I’d be grinning over Dixie May’s assumption that The Raven Three—Four—whatever they are, are here for her, but something she said has me frowning.
Jax, Hunter, and Zay talked to Dixie May yesterday morning? They never mentioned that.
I bring the joint to my lips to take another hit, letting the smoke hit my lungs and trying to smoke the worry out of me. What if everything that happened yesterday was some sort of elaborate prank Dixie May convinced the guys to do to me? Sure, The Raven Three don’t seem like they’d be her sheep, but I’ve thought that before about people and been wrong.
I’m such an idiot.
“You want to rock, paper, scissors for it?” Hunter’s voice floats up to me from down below.
Jax and him are now standing in front of the car, facing each other, their hands stuffed inside their pockets.
Jax cocks a brow at him. “That’s your brilliant idea?”
Hunter shrugs, sitting down on the hood. “Unless you’ll just let me go. But I have a feeling you’re not gonna be down for that.”
Jax sighs then sticks
out his hand. So does Hunter.
Jax starts with the, “One, two, three—”
“Hey, guys.” Dixie May steps off the porch and saunters down the walkway toward them. She has on high heels, a maroon dress, and her blonde hair is in a high, flawless ponytail, swishing as she walks.
As Jax and Hunter lower their hands to their sides and turn toward her, I look away, not wanting to see their reactions, not wanting to know the truth. Then I scrape the end of the joint against the side of the house to put it out, duck back inside, and shut the window.
Noting the time, I hide the joint back in my boot, spray some perfume on, and then head out of my room so I can go catch this bus.
And go live the pathetic life I deserve to live.
Raven
By the time I make it downstairs, my aunt is in the living room, sitting on the sofa with her face pressed against the window, probably spying on Dixie May and the guys.
I stop near the doorway. “So, where’s the bus stop?” I ask as I zip up my jacket.
“At the end of the driveway.” She barely glances in my direction, a wistful smile pulling at her lips. “God, to be young again and have potential lovers showing up at your door. I miss it.”
“I can’t believe you still remember what it was like with how long it’s been,” I mumble then start for the door.
“Oh, don’t be so pissy, Ravenlee.” She glances at me with a smirk on her face. “Just because you’re miserable, doesn’t mean you need to hate the rest of us for being happy. Then again, I guess I can’t really blame you. If I had to live your miserable existence, knowing no one will ever love you, I’d probably be miserable, too.”
The muscles in my jaw pulsate as I turn toward the front door. “Your happiness is an illusion, Auntie,” I call out as I open the door. “And one day, you’ll realize that. Although, maybe not. You’ve never been one for seeing reality, even when it slaps you across your overly-injected Botox face.”
“Why, you little shit—”
I hurry out the front door, knowing she won’t chase me and risk making a scene. Sure, she yelled at me yesterday while I was heading into school, but Dixie May is out here, so she won’t do that in front of her, especially when she has “potential lovers” around.
Taking a deep breath, I shove all my feelings away and start down the walkway, attempting to appear as nonchalant as possible. My plan is to stroll right on by where Dixie May is prattling on animatedly to Jax and Hunter. Then I’ll keep going until I reach the end of the driveway where the bus is supposed to pick me up. That’s probably when my pride will break down; it’s really hard to look chill when you’re walking onto a long, banana yellow vehicle that smells like feet and has a bunch of screaming kids on it. But I’m going to try my best.
Halfway down the walkway, though, my plan goes to shit when Hunter spots me, a huge smile breaking out across his face that confuses the crazy unicorns out of me.
“There’s my new BFF.” His gaze scrolls up and down me as he walks toward me with a bounce in his step—the dude is so bouncy. “I was just about to go lookin’ for you. Thought you might try to ditch me or something because you forgot to make my bracelet last night.” When he reaches me, he wraps his arms around me and hugs me as he spins me around in a circle.
The move shocks the hell out of me and makes the cuts on my side feel like they’re getting torn open more.
I tense, whimpering in pain, which makes him tense and pull back.
Worry creases his features. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie, gripping his shoulders stiffly.
Jax glances in our direction then walks away from Dixie May, heading toward us.
Dixie May gapes at him then at Hunter and me. “What the hell is actually happening right now?”
Strangely, the guys ignore her.
Hunter’s concerned gaze burrows into me. “Little raven, I can tell you’re in pain, so fess up. What happened?”
I tuck my arm protectively against my side. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just a little sore from the stretches I did this morning.” A lame response, but I think I’m a little stoned.
His gaze drops to my side then snaps back up. “Get in the car.” The intensity in his tone throws me off. He’s always been so happy and laidback until now.
“Hunter …” I start, preparing a good protest.
“Now,” Jax orders, striding toward us.
I give him a really look. “Dude, just ’cause you boss Zay and Hunter around, doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”
He gives me a tolerant look then snags ahold of my hand and pulls me out of Hunter’s arms. Then he steers me toward the car, taking long, calculated strides. I have to shuffle to keep up with him.
Hunter trails behind us, muttering, “See what happens when you make big brother mad.”
I narrow my eyes at him from over my shoulder.
He starts to smile but presses it back. “I refuse to be happy again until you tell us the truth,” he tells me as Jax drags me past Dixie May.
Her jaw is practically hanging to her knees. “I don’t understand … What’re you guys doing with her? This doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“Aw now, don’t worry your little head, sweetheart,” Hunter says, coming to a stop in front of her. “We’ll take care of you eventually.”
I glance back at Hunter with a what the shit? look.
He flicks a glance in my direction, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He’s up to something, but what? Hopefully, it isn’t trying to get into Dixie May’s pants. I don’t think I can be friends with him if he screws her. Then again, are these guys even trying to be my friend? That was kind of unclear last night.
What the hell is this thing between us?
Jax slows to a stop beside the passenger side of the car then releases my hand and turns back toward Hunter and Dixie May. He has a calculating look on his face, but I have no damn clue what he’s calculating. Maybe he’s just checking her out. Or maybe he’s plotting the many ways he could torture her. Who the hell knows since his expression is so guarded?
While Jax may be interested in what Hunter is saying to Dixie May, I don’t share the feeling. At least, that’s what I try to convince myself. But then curiosity gets the best of me and I twist around to watch whatever the heck is about to happen.
Dixie May is smiling all doe-eyed at Hunter while raveling the end of her ponytail around her finger. “Really?” she asks, biting her bottom lip.
Hunter’s eyes twinkle as he steps closer to her. “Yeah, by the end of the day, you’re going to feel completely taken care of.” He traces a line down her cheekbone with his fingertip. “Do you want that? For me to take care of you?”
She flutters her eyelashes as she places her palm against his chest. “How about you just take care of me now? I can ride to school with you guys, and you can let my cousin ride the bus.”
I love how she simply calls me cousin. If she wasn’t trying to impress Hunter right now, I’d be freak or loser or murderer.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but little raven over there has gotta ride with us.” He gives an innocent shrug. “It’s part of the rules.”
So that’s why they picked me up—because it’s a rule. Just how many rules are there? And what about this oath I’m supposed to take?
A crinkle forms between Dixie May’s brows. “What rules?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. In fact, you don’t need to worry about anything, except me taking care of you.” He gives her a toothy grin.
If yesterday had never happened, I’d just assume he was flirting with her. But his choice of words has me questioning exactly what Hunter has planned for Dixie May. Is he threatening her in a subtle way? Or is he really just planning on screwing her?
Dixie May grins. “Okay. I’ll see you at school then.”
He nods, his gaze never wavering from hers. “Absolutely.”
Hunter turns to walk away, but she grabs ahold of his arm. “Wait
. Before you go, there’s something you should know.” She flicks a glance at me, a sly grin spreading across her face.
I roll my eyes, but her smirk only grows. Then she stands on her tiptoes, leans in toward Hunter’s ear, and whispers something.
I don’t have to hear the words to know what she’s saying. It’s the same thing she tells everyone when they show even a drop of interest in me.
Murderer.
Normally, this would be my cue to leave, but these guys already know about the blood staining my hands and they’re still here. I’d question why, but I think I already know the answer.
Because they may be just as crazy as me.
“Really?” Hunter says as Dixie May steps back, sneaking a grin in my direction.
I try to get the upper hand by smiling and mouthing, “your makeup case …” I draw my finger across my throat.
Her eyes widen as her lips part, but then her gaze skims across the guys and she collects herself, putting on her pretty, little, fake smile that I so often dream of cutting off.
“So, you should be careful around her,” she says sweetly to Hunter.
He glances at me then back at her. “Thanks for telling me. I’ll make sure to give her a thorough, thorough pat down before I get too close to her to make sure she’s not packing any weapons.” He winks at me, and I shake my head, trying really damn hard not to smile.
But I’m fucking stoned and I’m pretty sure a dopey ass smile touches my lips.
Dixie May gives a confused, off-pitch laugh, her gaze shifting between Hunter and me. “Okay … Um … good?”
With a grin, Hunter walks away from Dixie May and toward me and Jax. When he reaches me, he places his hand against the small of my back, turns me around, and urges me to get into the car.
“You, little raven, get to ride in the back with me,” he says cheerfully, skimming his finger along the sliver of flesh peeking out from between the hem of my shirt and the waistband of my shorts.
Jax rests an arm on top of the opened passenger door. “No, you’re sitting up front,” he tells Hunter. “I’ll sit in the back seat with her.”
The Raven (The Raven Four Series Book 2) Page 4