by Becca Steele
“Closing my eyes for a few.” He yawned again.
“Don’t get any ideas,” I warned him as he smoothed down my hair so it wasn’t in his face.
“Cade would kill me.”
Then he was asleep, and seconds later, my eyes drifted shut, and I was lost to my dreams.
THIRTEEN
“Something you want to tell me?”
I slowly peeled my eyes open at the disapproving voice, wincing as I did so. Everything hurt, and my mouth tasted disgusting, as dry and arid as the desert. I licked my cracked lips and swallowed, my parched throat begging for some liquid.
“Need. Water,” I groaned, my voice hoarse. I tried to sit up, but I was weighed down by a muscular, tattooed arm.
Oh, yeah.
Last night came back to me. That epic kiss with Caiden, and getting wasted and high with Cassius afterwards, then falling asleep with him. I blinked rapidly, trying to get my eyes to focus.
“What time is it?”
“Nine.” Cassius spoke in my ear, his own voice husky from sleep. He tightened his arm around me. “Need more sleep.”
“Again, something you want to tell me?” This time I forced my eyes to stay open, and I managed to focus on Caiden, eyeing me and Cassius with a mixture of disapproval and what I think might have been a tiny bit of jealousy, but was probably just as likely to have been my hazy vision playing tricks on me.
“We fell asleep. Nothing happened.” I didn’t know why I was bothering to explain—Caiden had been the one to storm out and leave me with Cassius last night.
“Yeah, mate. Nothing happened,” Cassius mumbled lazily, moving his arm off me. I gingerly raised myself into a seated position, groaning again as my head swam. My eyelids fluttered as I swayed to the side, and the next minute Caiden was crouching right in front of me, peering into my face.
“You look like shit,” he stated. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Uh…we finished all the vodka and shared a joint. Maybe two. I think.” My stomach rolled. “I feel sick.”
“For fuck’s sake. Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t know. I feel horrible.” I felt too ill to spar with him, or to do anything. “I need to lie down.” I went to lie back down next to Cassius, but Caiden stopped me.
“Oh no you don’t. Come here.”
He scooped me into his arms and carefully climbed to his feet. I laid my head on his chest and closed my eyes again. “Where are you taking me?”
“To bed,” he said shortly. I curled my body into his, the nausea twice as bad now we were moving. As good as his arms felt cradling me, I really hoped I didn’t throw up on him. That wouldn’t go down well. I tried to concentrate on breathing slowly, in and out, my head spinning, as I felt him carry me up the stairs.
He nudged open a door with his foot—I heard it creak as it opened—and a few moments later he’d deposited me on a soft bed. I groaned in relief as the pillows cradled my sore head, and attempted to open my eyes.
“I’ll be back.”
I gave up on trying to open my eyes and curled into a ball on my side, my stomach churning. What was probably a few minutes later I heard a clattering sound and managed to peel my eyelids open to look at Caiden. “Water, and a bowl in case you’re sick. Try to sleep it off.”
“Thanks, Cade.” I reached out my hand and fumbled for his, giving it a squeeze. “I mean it.”
He grunted, roughly tugging his hand free from my grip. “Sleep.”
I managed a few sips of water as I heard the door close behind him, and then I passed out.
The next time I woke, it was to Weston’s face as he gently shook my shoulders.
“Stop it,” I moaned, burrowing into the covers. “I need sleep.”
“No.” He prodded my cheek. “Get up. You’re coming with us. Did you bring a change of clothes?”
I tried to focus on his words. “Blue bag.”
“Okay. I’m gonna turn on the shower for you. Fuck, Winter, how much did you and Cass drink last night? He’s been throwing up for the last hour.”
“Please don’t mention being sick.”
He sighed and pulled the covers off me. “Come on. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. If you were gonna be sick, you would’ve been already. I reckon Cass drank way more than you—he was already drunk by the time you started.” He helped me up, and I used him as a convenient crutch to walk to the bathroom, where I sat on the side of the bath with my pounding head in my hands while he started the shower and brought my bag in.
“I’ll wait in the bedroom. Be quick.”
“Do I have to?” I whined.
“Fucking hell, if this is what having a sister is like, I’m not sure I want one, after all,” he muttered.
“Hey!”
“Just kidding. Get your ass in the shower. Everyone’s waiting.”
“Fine.”
He walked out of the door, and I peeled my clothes off, trying not to move too much. I happened to glance at my face in the mirror over the sink as I was changing and immediately wished I hadn’t. My make-up was smeared all over my face, and I mean all over. My hair was matted and tangled, and the dark circles under my eyes just added to my overall unkempt look. Lovely.
Somehow, I managed to stumble into the shower, and by the time I was done, my head wasn’t hurting quite so much. I cleaned my teeth, washed the remaining traces of my make-up off, and dressed in the jeans and tank top I’d brought with me. I pulled a thin cardigan on top and wound my wet hair into a messy bun. That would have to do. I re-entered the bedroom to find Weston reclining on the bed, scrolling through—wait, was that my phone?
“West! That better not be my phone!”
He held up a hand. “One second…okay, done.” He threw the phone down on the bed. “You should be thanking me. You didn’t even have a password on there. I installed my app on it—it’ll give you all sorts of security options now.” His smile dimmed, his voice turning serious. “You can never be too careful around here.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, still not sure if I could trust him or not, but deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Um. I see. Thanks, then.”
“I put all our numbers into your contacts list, too. You can message me whenever you want.” He gave me a cheeky wink, and I couldn’t help smiling.
“Maybe I will.” I grabbed my phone from the bed, and he jumped up, taking my bag. Together, we made our way downstairs through the silent house and out the front door, where Cassius’ SUV was waiting, Caiden in the front passenger seat, sunglasses on, so I couldn’t make out the expression on his face.
“Where is everyone, anyway?”
Weston turned to me. “Think your mum and my dad must still be asleep. Dad gives the staff the morning off after parties so they don’t accidentally disturb anyone. Z didn’t come back after he dropped Lena off, so I guess he’s at home.” He shrugged, brushing it off, but I noticed the tense set of his jaw.
“Oh. Okay.” I stepped closer and threw my arms around his neck, overcome with a sudden feeling of protectiveness and gratitude for him. Taken by surprise he stumbled but then steadied himself and hugged me back tightly, burying his face in my neck.
“Thanks, West,” I mumbled into his hair. “As far as stepbrothers go, you’re really not that bad.”
He laughed, then squeezed me and kissed my cheek. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now get in the car so we can get breakfast. I’m starving and I need a bacon sandwich.”
“Bacon? Mmm, me too.” I climbed into the back of the SUV next to Cassius, who was leaning against the window, groaning, and Weston hopped in the front and started the engine.
The car rolled away from the house, and I closed my eyes, letting Post Malone’s lazy, laconic vocals wash over me as “Goodbyes” played softly through the speakers. Caiden and Weston talked in low tones, while Cassius slipped into sleep.
Eventually I felt the car slow to a stop, and the engine turned off. I trailed the boys into their house, notic
ing Zayde’s black bike next to Caiden’s R8, a shiny red helmet propped on the seat. The combination of fresh air and the shower had me feeling slightly more human, and I sat at the dining table watching as Weston and Zayde, who had appeared as soon as we turned up, fried eggs and grilled bacon for everyone. Cassius sat across from me, leaning his head on his arms, and Caiden sat at the island, talking to the boys, every now and then stifling a yawn. The memory of his lips on mine played on my mind, and I shifted in my seat. I’d never been kissed like that before. Fuck, I wanted to kiss him again, despite the small matter of him being an entitled asshole who hated me. One problem, though—he’d been drunk last night. I wondered what had happened to him after he’d left me and Cass. He didn’t seem that hungover, only tired, but who knew.
Weston slid a plate under my nose, temporarily distracting me from Caiden. Oh. Yes. The smell of the bacon, the perfectly cooked egg, HP sauce oozing out the sides, all sitting snugly between two slices of thick, soft bread—perfection in a sandwich. I took a huge bite and moaned in appreciation, blissful flavours exploding on my tongue.
We all ate silently, the food accompanied by huge mugs of tea and coffee courtesy of Zayde. He might not say much, but he was bloody good in the kitchen.
Unfortunately, his cooking skills came with a downside. I tried to avoid his icy stare as I ate. If looks could kill, I’d be dead and buried by now. And actually… I eyed my almost empty mug of coffee with suspicion… I wouldn’t put it past him to try and fuck with my brunch in some way. I sighed. Well, if he’d poisoned me or something, it was too late now.
As we finished up the food and Weston loaded the dishwasher, I glanced at Cassius, who was looking less green. “Feeling better, Cass?”
“Yeah.” He smiled at me and stood, his chair scraping across the tiled floor. “I’m having a shower, then we all need to discuss things.” He gave me a pointed glance, and our conversation from last night came back to me. My mother. The investigation.
Time to get to the bottom of what was going on with the Four.
FOURTEEN
Caiden, Zayde, and I assembled in the huge lounge area to wait for Cassius, Weston heading off to check in with some online contact he had while we were waiting. I settled on the huge, squashy sofa, at the opposite end to Caiden, facing the biggest TV screen I’d ever seen in someone’s house, and Zayde flopped into a reclining armchair to the side of us, picking up a game controller and turning on the TV. He threw another to Caiden, and soon they were engrossed in some kind of shooting game.
“We need some fresh air in here.” Zayde paused the game, screwing up his nose, and walked over to the window, opening it. I shivered and pulled my thin cardigan tighter around me as a cool breeze blew in, a chill coming over me.
“Cold?” Caiden murmured, close to my ear. My head whipped around, and he was right there. How and when did he get so close?
“A bit,” I managed to whisper, staring at his lips as the kiss filled my mind for the hundredth time.
“Here.” He pulled off his thick black hoodie and handed it to me, leaving him in a tight slate-grey T-shirt that stretched across his muscles in the best way.
My heart rate picked up, and my mouth went dry. Somehow, I managed to mumble “thanks” and pulled the hoodie over my head, snuggling into it. It was still warm from his body heat, with a faint ocean scent, and I sighed in appreciation.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I leaned closer as Zayde resumed the game.
He gave a heavy sigh, his eyes flicking between me and the TV screen. “Z, I’m out,” he announced, pressing some buttons on his controller, and the split-screen view on the TV was replaced with a single screen. Turning to face me fully, he stared at me, frowning and biting his lip uncertainly. “Fuck,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. “Look. I don’t like or trust you as far as I could throw you. That should be fucking obvious, even to someone like you. But I’m not a complete asshole.”
I arched a brow at him, and he gave me a small wry smile. “Most of the time, anyway. You were cold, so I gave you something to keep warm. Don’t read anything into it.” His face turned serious. “I mean that. Don’t.”
I debated whether to say what was on my mind, but in the end, I knew I had to ask. Leaning closer to him, I pulled my legs up onto the sofa, curling them under me, our eyes staying locked the entire time.
“What about the kiss?”
He was so close that I could feel his breath on my lips.
“Snowflake…” His voice was low and steely. “That kiss should never have fucking happened.”
“Shouldn’t it?” I moved even closer, and his eyes darkened, his lips parting.
“No. It. Was. A. Fucking. Mistake.” He tilted his head down so there was a millimetre of space between our mouths.
“A mistake. Really,” I breathed. “Cade—”
“Stop. You’re the last person I—”
“I fucking knew it!” Cassius’ triumphant shout cut straight through the atmosphere between us, and I jumped, scrambling away from Caiden, confused, and to be honest, pissed off.
“Whatever you think you saw, you’re wrong.” Caiden sat up straight, his voice flat and unemotional as he looked at Cassius, daring him to disagree.
“Right.” Cassius rolled his eyes. He sauntered over to the sofa and sank down in between us, throwing his arm around me. “Nice hoodie, babe. Sure I’ve seen Cade with one just like it.”
Zayde continued mashing the Xbox controller, oblivious to the rest of us, while Caiden gave Cassius an irritated look. “Fuck off. I’m getting West.” He disappeared out of the room, and I curled my legs under me more tightly, turning to look at Cassius.
“Why do you wind him up like that all the time?”
He shrugged. “It’s what we do. It’s fun.”
“If you say so.”
“Being serious for a minute, are you ready to talk about what we told each other last night?”
I tried to recall our conversation, remembering something about him saying they were keeping tabs on me and my mum. And I’d told him I’d come to Alstone to investigate my dad’s death. I absently rubbed my fingers across my meteor tattoo, thinking of my dad. If his death hadn’t been an accident, the people responsible were going to be brought to justice, no matter what.
“I’m ready.”
“Good girl.” Cassius grabbed my hand and squeezed it as Caiden walked back into the room with Weston in tow, and they both took a seat. “Time to get some answers.”
I looked around at the Four, each one of them giving me their full attention. Zayde had turned off the Xbox, and the room was silent. Cassius kept hold of my hand, his touch bolstering me. I took a deep breath and began, stumbling over the words, racing to get them out.
“Okay. Quick rundown of my life. My mother got pregnant when she was young, and she didn’t want me, she left us, then me and my dad moved away, we didn’t stay in touch—”
“Slow down,” Cassius interrupted me. “And start at the point where you think she had something to do with your dad’s death.”
There were three sharp intakes of breath, Cassius smiling smugly since he was already privy to this information.
“Why and how?” Zayde leaned forwards in his armchair, his intense gaze boring into me.
“It all sounds weird, but there was something that didn’t seem right. It could all be a coincidence, of course—”
“Get to the fucking point, will you?”
I leaned around Cassius to glare at Caiden. “No need to be rude.” I added, “Asshole,” quietly under my breath, and Cassius snorted as Caiden glared back at me.
“Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted—knowing what I do now, I suppose it all started around five months before my dad passed away.” My voice cracked, and my eyes filled with tears as I spoke about my dad.
Weston moved from his position on the floor to sit on the arm of the sofa next to me, running a soothing hand up and down my arm, and Cassius tightened his grip
on my hand. I gave them both a brief, tremulous smile, and continued. “I don’t know if you guys were aware, but he kept in touch with my mother sporadically. I think he felt sorry for her, and he wanted her to be involved in my life. Neither of us were particularly interested to be honest, but he used to send her updates on me, and whatever.”
My voice cracked again, and I coughed to clear my throat. “Sorry, I need a drink.”
“I’ll get you one.” Cassius jumped up. We sat in silence until he returned with a bottle of water, which he handed to me.
“Thanks.” I unscrewed the cap and took a large swig. “Okay. Back to it. I’d been accepted to university, and my dad was so excited for me. It was always his dream for me—to get a good education. My mother wasn’t answering his calls, so he drove here to talk to her in person. He was desperate for us to reconcile, and he wanted her to share in his excitement. I don’t know if she ever loved him, but he never stopped loving her. He never looked at another woman, as far as I’m aware.”
I stared down at the floor, not really seeing it, lost in my memories. “He must have arrived back home late at night, after I’d gone to bed. The next morning, I went downstairs, and he was acting weird—all jumpy and shifty. I asked him what was wrong, and he brushed me off. He shut himself in his office for most of that day, and I couldn’t get anything out of him.”
I looked up, to find the Four watching me with rapt attention.
“What happened next?” Weston breathed.
I sighed, my mouth twisting. “He drove up to Alstone a few more times, even staying overnight once or twice, and he spent ages shut in his study or staying late at work in his office there. I didn’t connect any of it until afterwards.”
“Did he ever tell you anything?” The question came from Zayde, who was staring at me, the usual blank, unreadable expression on his face.
“No, and to be honest, I stopped pushing him. I could feel that something was off, but I rationalised it in my head, telling myself that he was researching stuff for work or whatever.” The tears were starting to come in earnest now, and I choked back a sob. If only I’d pushed harder. Maybe I could have changed something. Maybe he’d still be alive.