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Resilient Queen

By Amber Vant

Copyright © 2022 by Amber Vant

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical
methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations
embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Resemblance persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely
coincidental.

Edited By: My Brother's Editor

Cover Designer: August Designs

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 Contents

Prologue
1. Rory

2. Rory
3. Cole

4. Rory
5. Rory

6. Abram

7. Rory
8. Cole

9. Rory

10. Rory
11. Rory

12. Rory
13. Rory

14. Cole

15. Rory

16. Cole

17. Rory
18. Rory

19. Rory

20. Rory

21. Cole

22. Rory
23. Rory

24. Rory

25. Cole

26. Abram

27. Rory

28. Rory

29. Rory
30. Rory

31. Cole

32. Cole

33. Rory
34. Rory

35. Rory

36. Rory

37. Rory

38. Rory

39. Cole
40. Cole

41. Rory

42. Rory

43. Rory

44. Rory

45. Rory

46. Rory

47. Rory

48. Rory

49. Rory
50. Rory

Epilogue

The Story Continues...

Afterward

About Author
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 Prologue

I DON’T HAVE TO convince myself I’m being watched because I already

know I am.
Their probing eyes are like needles digging their way into my flesh with
their curiosity. I keep my head down, minding my own business, not that it
makes a difference. The ringing of the bells when I passed through the door
already alerted them of my presence.
I can’t blame them, the watching that is. I’m honestly shocked at how I
ended up here too.
The old me, the one from days earlier, wouldn't have cared at the looks.
She would have relished in the attention. Thrived at being seen on the arm
of his suit jacket.
Not anymore.
The knotted-up ball of hair atop my head, puffy and swollen eyes, and
wrinkled old clothes, my new style. I’m positive I stink, seeing as I haven’t
bothered to change them or take a shower in days.
 I know I should care more; it’s selfish of me not to—it isn’t only me I
have to worry about anymore, but I can’t find it in me to bother.
More determined to put as much distance as humanly possible from him.
“What can I get for ya, sugar?”
I keep my face placid. Smiling would be a waste of effort seeing as I
hadn’t felt the need to do that in some time. Even though the woman
standing before me could easily make it contagious.
It’s warm and inviting and everything I no longer feel.
“I’ll just have some toast.”
She arches an eyebrow; the movement causes the freckles along her nose
to dance. “You sure that’s all you want?”
My hand unconsciously flies to my stomach not because it gurgles in
hunger but because her eyes glance down at the swell of my belly. It’s
barely a bump yet, but somehow, she understands.
Her lids soften and the sight suddenly angers me all over again. Easily
she reads how pathetic I am.
I grit my teeth. “Toast will be fine.”
This waitress knows nothing about me, and never will. We are boundless
strangers with one common purpose. This diner she worked at in a location
as deserted as the way I was when I left the property.
She walks off then, not bothering to write anything down. Coming back
as quickly as the old me had been wiped away with a few harsh words and
threatened sentences by the man I thought loved me.
Swallowing, I look up from the most mouthwatering-looking
cheeseburger and fries. They are far more favorable to the toast I asked for.
“This isn’t what I ordered,” I say, even though everything inside me
screams to shut up. My mouth continues to salivate the longer the smell of
greased meat and melted cheese tickles my nose.
“You may not want to eat, but it’s not only about you anymore.” Those
razor-sharp eyes once again flick down at my belly before she walks away
without another word. Leaving both the discussion and her disagreement for
my choices completely invalid.
The woman, she’s being kind, but also intrusive. She’s assuming things
that are most likely accurate. Anyone with a pulse can guess that I’m a
breathing statistic—probably assuming the worst, and maybe it’s all true,
but that’s not anyone’s business but my own.
Like them, I stumbled into the first place off the main road that looked
quiet and had a halfway decent place to rest my swollen feet.
I wasn’t in charge of what anyone thought of me, but I can’t blame them
if they’re concerned. I know I look bad, but I’m on my own now, well sorta.
My hand finds that spot below my belly button for the second time in
minutes. Selfishly—and purposefully—I refused to think about the little girl
growing inside me since everything changed.
I’m here now because of her.
A shock wave of the truth douses me, looking around as my new reality
sets in. I gulp, but it’s as dry as the air in this new area.
Fisting my clothes, my agitation grows. I’ll be raising this child alone.
Too selfish and shocked at my own grief to fully understand what this
meant before the waitress brought me this oversized meal.
She’s right.
It’s not only about me anymore.
My insides splinter, that cracking along my chest, scissoring at the
realization. I’d believed I was loved. We were loved.
I was lied to.
 I do something selfless then and force a handful of the burger down my
throat even though I no longer have an appetite.
I shove down more, fat tears streaking my cheeks, silently inhaling the
food as my anger grows and grows.
No one comes to bother me, but I know that I should get used to that.
Knowing I’m now alone. Having no one when I used to be half of
something magical.
Opening my jacket, I rip out the item I’d hidden underneath once I’ve
finished. I don’t know why I kept it. I shouldn’t have taken it to begin with,
but I was angry.
Still am, but it’s more of a gaping, festering wound now than fury.
The inscription on the inside of this stupid thing somehow gave me a
sliver of hope that this was… I don’t know, a bad dream? Something I
could just wake up from.
The red-bound book sits like a weighted brick in my hand. Days have
passed with nothing but silence.
I snort past a grapple of more tears. It’s unflattering and normally I
would’ve been embarrassed for me and how I’m behaving.
Another sound pushes past this one worse than the last.
It’s only me so why does it matter. He doesn’t care. He never did.
Hiccupping, I could laugh at myself for being so innocent. Naive. My
wonderland dying as that invisible thread inside me finally snaps.
He’d chosen her and their baby. Not mine, not ours.
Climbing from my seat, I wipe away my stained cheeks and find the
same lady behind the bar top counter.
“Oh, it’s on the house,” she stammers. That generosity sitting across her
temple doing nothing for my already fractured insides. I don’t need
anyone’s pity.
Her head snaps back as the book rattles off the linoleum. She hadn’t been
expecting it, much as I hadn’t expected a cheeseburger when I asked for
toast.
“Word of advice don't assume you know what I need. The food I got was
good but what I asked for would have sufficed.”
Turning, I don’t give her a chance to respond because I’m already
halfway through the door.
Hope was a belief and I’d lost all of mine.

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 One

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 Rory

RUNNING USED TO BE easy, but that’s no longer the case.

Physically it’s as effortless as breathing—the one thing I can control. I set
the pace; I push harder. I have the power.
Mentally though, I’m being suffocated. Running makes me feel alive
when inside I’m being buried and that’s the worst part. I used to run from
my problems but now I run from a burden that isn’t even my own.
The crazy thing is the faster I run, the more I push my limits, the more
that thing inside loosens and so that’s what I do. I push harder. Spots have
started to become a frequent friend in the last several weeks, fighting my
stamina, but I don’t care.
If I slow down, then everything will settle once again, and I hated that.
So, I run toward the one thing that will give me relief. The thing that helps
me forget everything even if, only for a moment.
My body fights every new mile I add, but I keep going. Pacing myself as
I chase that nothingness I’m desperate for.
 I’m shocked too, but I actually crave the way things were before. It’s
funny how we take advantage of the simplicity of things before we realize
how bad they can really get.
I’m no longer running from my life but for the clarity on how to fix it. I
need my twisted sense of normal back, but I have no idea where to start.
My muscles are alive, but I feel dead.
Briefly, I allow myself to rest when I see more blackness in my vision
than I do the actual path before me. My hands rest on the back of my head
as I draw in air through my nose and out my mouth.
The tank and shorts I’m wearing are like a second skin. Molded as the
dampness of sweat coats me. My reward for putting in steams of hard work.
Finn should be here with me, that was our deal, but that would mean he’d
actually have to leave his room.
Another reason I’m running more. There’s a heaviness inside the Casper
mansion that’s stifling even though no one interacts. Everyone’s been
keeping their distance since Silas dropped the bomb about Finn and Cole
being brothers.
Cole had mentioned once that after his mom died, he’d spent more of his
time here because it was hard being at his own. I didn’t understand it then,
but I do now. It’s like a spiritless ghost, not seen but felt everywhere within
the home.
Blinking, the dots have become less hazy, so I decide to push forward. I
don’t have much farther to go as I charge past the Kellets’ locked gate to get
back to mine.
Knowing where I am also helps my brain shut off. I don’t have to think
about where to go next. I can just let my legs move.
 Running with Finn more has also helped with that outside the gates.
Mostly, I stick to the loop around the Caspers’ and Kellets’ houses or the
woods behind the properties.
Once back inside the mansion, I rip out my headphones and am greeted
with nothing but silence. Something that when I first arrived back, I would
have relished in but now I find irritating.
My footsteps echo as I climb the stairs not bothering to keep quiet. No
one will say anything because that would mean they’d have to be annoyed
enough to come out.
Abram’s been a recluse. Keeping to himself in his office anytime he’s
home and Lorna, well, she does whatever she wants. As of late, that means
most days, she isn’t even home.
The house seems empty and desolate even though it’s fully staffed. I’ve
started to wonder if this is what it’d been like before and if so, I’m not
surprised Finn had so many parties. The place needed some sort of life
breathed back into it.
Once at the top, I trek my way down the long hallway Finn and I’s rooms
share. I’m about to enter my own but my hands fist at my sides, drawing out
a breath, and I spin on my heel instead.
I already know what’s going to happen but still, I try again, hoping that
this will be the time I get what I want.
A response.
My knuckles rattle off Finn’s door. Using more force than necessary to
try and overlap the music that somehow hasn’t shattered my eardrums yet.
It’s been thundering like this, nonstop since Finn came back to the house.
Storming out after Silas had shown up and dropped the news that no one
could have predicted.
 Not only had he somehow lost control of his shares to the Hardin
company, but Cole and Finn are also now related.
Vividly, I can still see Finn’s face as it turned to a shade of white so
ashen, you’d have thought he’d died, right there on the spot. The matching
shocked look on Cole’s face was something I’m sure he wasn’t even aware
was happening. Rarely is he caught so off guard.
The only person to stay remotely calm was Abram, and he even looked
about one bad eye twitch away from erupting.
I wasn’t talking about you. I’m talking about my other son. Finn.
The cold, desolate way in which Silas had said those words sends a fresh
shiver down my spine.
I press my ear against the door, willing myself to hear any kind of
movement, but I get none. Growling, once more I try pounding the door,
this time more out of frustration than anything. Not that it helps, nothing
happens. Finn isn’t going to answer.
Heading back over to my room, I slump to my bed in annoyance.
Finn hasn’t been the only one who’s been distant. So, when my phone
vibrates in my hand, I’m hopeful that it’s Cole but am yet again left
disheartened.
Sure, Cole hasn’t been openly avoiding everyone like Finn, but he hasn’t
been his usual arrogant, overly cocky self either. Anytime we’re together,
his mind seems to be elsewhere. I find myself having to repeat things
several times before I give up.
I’ve been patient but it’s starting to affect us more and more every day. I
know it doesn’t help that neither of them have sat down to talk about this
yet.
 Sure, they show up to school and practices but that’s it. Nothing but the
minimum to get through the day. I’m exhausted and I’m not even the one
trying to avoid the other.
Groaning, I throw my phone down, reading the message Hailey had
texted telling me she was on her way over.
At least she’s one relief. Her life messless.

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 Two

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 Rory

“WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Hailey asks, glancing at me through the

mirror.
She’s been doing this for about ten minutes now. Angling her head as she
swaps out the silky pajama sets, holding them in front of her.
“You’re getting ready for bed, not an award ceremony. Pick something,”
I groan.
Mmmphing, she sticks out her tongue and throws down the pink set.
Opting for the yellow one that reminds me of daisies.
Switching off the light to the bathroom, she comes back over to the bed
after changing and washing her face. Taking the pillow behind her, she
fluffs it up before sinking down onto her back with a sigh.
Hailey’s been doing this since she arrived. She’d been her usual alive and
bright self but like everyone else, hers too almost seems like a facade. Not
wholly her perky personality.
The longer she’s here, the more I notice her going in and out of these
periods. She’s here physically but mentally, she’s somewhere else.
 For example, she’s still looking up at the ceiling and barely blinking.
“Are you alright?”
Squinting, she slowly looks over at me, flipping over on her side, and
tucking her hand under her chin. “Never better.”
Her answer almost mechanical, forced.
I give her a tight-lined expression that tells her exactly what I’m thinking.
There’s something going on with her.
Cracking an overripe smile, she adds, “You sure Cole doesn’t mind that
I’m taking his spot tonight?” Wagging her eyebrows as she wiggles her butt
under the covers.
She, like everyone else, other than Abram, knew he spent most of his
nights here sharing my bed. He’s been doing this since we got back
together.
Her eyes glint while mine roll.
“Do I need to spoon you too?” Mercilessly she reaches over and hugs me
before peeking up through her lashes, voice growing serious. “I love you,
but my limits stop there. You’ll have to get yourself off if you’re feeling
frisky.”
I shove her off with a chuckle. The sound grows louder the more I take in
her fake disappointment. It feels good, really good, laughing like this.
Even if I know she’s only asking this to get the topic off herself. It’s nice
to have at least a few moments where the weight of everything going on
right now is forgotten.
Turning over, I reach at the lamp beside my bed and turn it on, further
burying myself under the covers.
Lying here, I realize I’m glad I’d asked her if she wanted to stay the
night.
 Cole’s still out of town with his father anyway. They’re trying to figure
everything out with their parts of the business. The longer he’s gone the
more that void grows, festering.
Plus, I’ve gotten used to sharing this bed with someone. It’s almost
laughable. That’s something the Rory from a few months ago never
would’ve admitted but I also never would’ve acknowledged I missed him. I
miss Cole.
That’s the funny thing about life, isn’t it? We’re always constantly
changing…whether we want to or not.
Glancing at her, she’s once again on her back, eyes open but that same
distant haze is present.
Hailey may not be telling me what’s going on, so I have no idea if it’s
about Finn or something else entirely. All I do know for certain is that she
seemed more than willing to stay when I’d asked.
“Do you think they’re going to be okay?” Hailey questions after a while
into the stillness of the night.
Her breathing had never evened out, so I knew, like me, she hadn’t found
sleep either, but I was still shocked that she’d asked.
I don’t answer right away, weighing the question that I’ve been too afraid
to admit to myself. Will Finn and Cole be okay? I want to say yes, but I
honestly don’t know.
Everyone has grown so accustomed to walking on eggshells around each
other. Afraid to speak that it made me doubt that there is the possibility.
I’d grown hopeful seeing them interact at school, or here at home. Cole
would come to visit, but that easiness that was there before between them
has disappeared. Now in its place, doubt hung. Clinging to the air with
uncertainty and timidness.
 It’s a strange thing to witness. The two most egotistical, confident, and
sure people I know, unsure about even saying “hello” to the other. The
friendship they’d shared their entire lives vanished, doubt and uncertainty
sitting in its place.
“The answer should be an obvious yes, right?” Licking my lips, I chuckle
but it’s hollow. “I mean, they’ve been there for each other through their best
and worst. I don’t know how Cole would have gotten through losing his
mom if not for Finn.”
I hear her suck in a sharp breath, but I don’t bother turning my head.
Somehow not looking at her when I said the words makes it easier to admit.
“Then you add Eli and it’s like their little pack was complete, you
know?” I pause, flustered. “But this, the way they’ve been acting it’s almost
like they’re strangers now. So, I want to say yes but can’t.”
That thing inside me doesn’t grow lighter as I say the words, it only
deepens as the truth sets in. I don’t know if they’re going to be okay and it’s
scary. I need them—all of them.
I wish things would go back to normal.
“They’ll get through it,” she says, but I can hear the lingering doubt in
her own words. She’s as reluctant as I am. “…They have to.”
A hiss rings, pushing past my teeth. I’m weak.
“Abram’s been helping though, right?”
I turn on my side staring at her with steeled irritation as prickled anger
crawls its way up my skin. Hailey’s eyes widen matching the movement,
adjusting herself to look at me more head on.
My disdain says it all but still, I explain, “He’s being patient but like
everyone else, he also has an edge to him.”
 If you thought Cole and Finn were bad, try having dinner with the man
you thought was your father your whole life, then find out it was a lie. Now
the one doesn’t trust the other.
Awkward is beyond what it is.
Is this how it was for everyone else when I’d come back? My distantness
clinging to the air and I the only one who couldn’t feel it’s chill?
Finn has every reason to be pissed off. The documents I’d found on
Abram’s desk told me he already knew that Finn wasn’t his son. How long
had he known? Was he ever planning to bring it up? Tell…anyone?
I understand how Finn feels. Growing up believing one thing your whole
life for it all to be a lie. It’s devastating.
“No one interacts, no one talks. You hear more sounds of forks scraping
plates than you do actual conversation,” I wheeze out on a disappointed
sigh.
It’s so fucking hard to be around it all the time. I can’t escape it. If it’s not
school, then it’s work, and if it’s not that, it’s here. It never ends. Running
has been my only escape from it all.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admit.
Hailey’s face softens, and it’s irritating. I hate that look. It’s all upsetting.
The edge of her mouth lifts as she reaches over, grabbing my hand and
squeezes. Her eyes filled with too much compassion.
“On the bright side, you and Abram are getting better. I mean, you talked
to him about figuring out he was the one who wrote that note in your book,
right?”
My muscles stiffen all over again as her face falls catching the action
from where our hands are still linked. Not exactly.
 He’d told me I needed to calm down, and then there was the crash
outside in the hall. So, no, we haven’t dug much deeper.
She groans, “Rory, why haven’t you talked to him about that yet?”
“There’s been so many other things going on I haven’t found the time.”
“You mean you haven’t found the courage.”
My face turns grim, not liking her calling me out on my excuses. She
rebuttals by shooting me a scathing look, not impressed either.
“I know I need to but—”
“No buts. You need to have that conversation. Sooner”—her finger jabs
into the comforter—“than later. Got it?” she says sternly.
I narrow my eyes, but she only keeps her no-nonsense attitude and I flop
over, looking up at the ceiling annoyed.
A chill forces its way down my spine as I bite back my sneer.
She’s right, and I know she is, but does she have to be so brash about it
too?
“I’ll do it,” I promise.
“Soon.”

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 Three

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 Cole

HAVING SPENT THE LAST seventy-two hours confined this closely with
my father has been my own personal definition of torture.
Cutting each of my toes off with a butter knife would be more appealing.
This trip was a mission of self-sabotage. I volunteered to go to try and get
some answers. So far on this stupid trip, I have come up with nothing but a
migraine and a better understanding of what my future will look like.
Hollow and dull.
Or at least it would have had Rory not ever come back into my life.
She brought a light I hadn’t known I needed until I almost lost her for a
second time. Now I can’t imagine not having her here.
Looking over at Silas, I almost pity him because I know that would have
been me. I would have been miserable; I had been miserable but all that’s
changed now.
All because of Rory.
I watch him out of my own boredom. His lip has stayed in that thinned-
out line since we boarded the plane days earlier. It doesn’t leave now on our
way back.
I seemed to be the only one okay with going back. A few days like an
eternity when the girl you loved was hundreds of miles away and you
couldn’t do anything about it.
He sits next to Eli’s dad, Sgt. Daniels. Head down as he listens to
whatever Daniels is saying.
My father is doing his best to conceal his panic but each day the
uneasiness unearths itself more and more. The hysteria building in his eyes
the longer we go without a solution.
Eli’s father doesn’t look much better. Seeing as it looks like he hasn’t
slept in days. A shadowed tint settling underneath his sockets.
I’m sure he’s much worse than he’s letting on. Positive that the only thing
keeping him calm right now is his trained military background.
Probably a good thing. If Silas didn’t need his help to solve all this mess,
the words fired would have flown from his mouth so fast Abram wouldn’t
have had a chance to rebuttal.
We did figure out something. Not much but I guess anything little is
better than nothing at all. We know it had to of been some sort of inside job.
Impossible because the only one with access to everything is our families
and Daniels.
He custom designed the new system once he’d taken over and has been
overlooking it since.
Whoever it was, had managed to get past all the top-rated security
systems. They are either genius or some sort of robot.
They want to know how. I want to know why.
Something about it isn’t adding up. The uncertainty a decent distraction
from the other new development plaguing my life.
 I now have a brother.
Finn and I’s relationship has always been close, but now when I look at
him, all I see is a stranger. It’s bizarre having someone I considered to be
my brother my whole life turn out to actually be my brother.
I know he’s having the same thoughts. Things are awkward between us.
It’s also been affecting Rory and I’s relationship. I see the disappointment in
her eyes hidden under those thick lashes even though she never says a
word.
The most laughable part, Silas has remained unfazed. Unaffected now
about being the father of Finn, as he had been when he’d announced it. He
made it seem like it was more of an inconvenience for him than anything
else.
A reaction not unexpected from him.
Then the icing on this shit cake is they are only serving the “fun size”
bottles of vodka the entire flight back.
I checked.
Several times.
I offered the attendant a grand if she could magically pull a half pint from
her ass. Confined to this six-hour flight with my father twenty feet away.
As of late, I’ve tried to restrict myself. Rory filled that void once only
alcohol ever could. Today though, I convinced myself I deserve it.
The only saving grace of this entire stint of a trip that has just fallen south
of purgatory is that it’d mostly been meetings and phone calls. Saving me
the courtesy of actually having to converse with dear old dad.
Other than for the simple measure of polite conversation when others
were around, we didn’t talk. That on the one rare occasion he’d dragged me
along with him.
 His desperation is meeting new heights.
Other than that, he’s kept himself distracted, which is fine with me. One
could only take so much of Silas Kellet before they break.
Unlucky for me I’d had eighteen years’ worth.
I grin because even with all his training, Sgt. Daniels is getting close to
that point. Almost ready to break under the pressure of my father. The lines
around his forehead and brows are creased, eyes bulging as he bites back
what I know he really wants to say.
If it weren’t for Daniels being here, I’d say this is the longest amount of
consecutive time my father and I have spent together in well—ever.
Not even at my birth had he spent more than a few hours at the hospital
before going back to Hardin.
Truthfully, he probably only stayed long enough to make sure I could
breathe on my own. Then it was back to business.
I’m pent up and wound-tight. Usually, the only thing that seemed to
unwind this strain is going to the gym or Rory letting me fuck her.
Neither of which I currently have at my disposal.
Unlocking my phone, I reread the good-night text Princess had sent me
earlier. I never responded. My nostrils flare as I breathe out my nose, she
deserves all of me and right now I can’t give it to her.
I couldn’t. It’s too weird knowing that Finn and I are blood related.
This isn’t any easier for her than it is for me. Somehow seeing her text
and knowing she still loved me despite it all was a small relief in my swell
of confusion.
The back of my skull hits the headrest. My brain not muddled with
enough alcohol to get a good buzz going. I look out the window of the
private plane. The sky is empty and dark.
 I wish I could be there for her tonight, but I’m pacified by the fact that I
know she isn’t alone.
At least Hailey isn’t isolating her…

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 Four

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 Rory

I’D BEEN WALKING TO the conservatory. Had being the operative word.
Cole and I planned on hanging out later tonight, so I had every intention
of spending the morning and afternoon reading down in my glass house.
There is no yelling or slammed doors within those walls. Only the
quietness of leaves growing and flowers blooming. The stillness is
something I never thought I’d wish back but after listening to only shouting
the past few days, I want that nothingness again.
Things have moved on from complete avoidance to everyone picking
fights instead. They usually ended with one or both parties storming off,
and absolutely nothing getting resolved.
If it isn’t Abram and Lorna, it’s Lorna and Finn, or him and Abram. And
if it wasn’t a pair, it was a trio of them all together. Screaming at one
another so loud my ears nearly bled.
Albeit it was mostly Finn starting these fights, but it still sucks.
The raised voices this time pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.
The noise sucks me in like a vampire drawing blood. I may not be losing
blood, but my sanity is a close second.
“What do you mean I can’t go? You never cared before!”
“Well, I do now, and you’re not going.” Abram stresses from his side of
the kitchen island.
“But—”
“I said no, Finn.”
My head swings. Whipping back and forth listening to them both spout
off so rapidly I’m surprised I haven’t pinched a nerve.
He looks over at Abram with astonishment. Neither of them is willing to
give in. Standing on either side of the counter with squared shoulders and
replies at the ready.
Whatever Finn wanted to do, Abram isn’t letting him, and he isn’t happy
about it.
Finn’s eyes are bright and alive before they narrow, and a muscle jumps
in his jaw. “Give me my keys,” he grinds out.
“I said no,” Abram answers back more sternly.
The sound of two balled fists slamming down on the stoned countertop
makes me jump. My eyes follow along, tracking the now spilled glass of
orange juice beside Finn. The glass still rattles as the liquid seeps down the
pristine white cabinets and onto the floor.
Neither of them moves to pick it up, both men more focused, and too
headstrong on not giving in, than a spill.
I rush over, cleaning it up before it spreads from a small mess into a
larger one.
The thickened tension in the room far outweighs the small pinch of pain
from the broken shards as I clean it up.
 After tossing the orange-tinted rags into the trash, I huff out. The loose
strands of hair that had fallen in front of my face are shoved back. “What is
going on here?” Saying aloud the one question plaguing my mind while
staring them both down.
A vein strings from Finn’s forehead, a growl rumbling from deep within
his chest following soon after.
“I want my fucking keys,” he seethes. Not only does he not answer my
question, but he also doesn’t bother to move the pointed way in which his
head is in Abram’s direction.
The lack of acknowledgment irritates me further.
“You can have them back later.”
He arches an eyebrow and that vein in Finn’s forehead grows like he
already knows what he’s going to say.
“…After we talk.”
Fire dances in Finn’s eyes. His pulse pounds, thrumming along his
temple.
The anger in his locked gaze fighting to hold as he stands across from
him stock-still.
My own panic swells when I watch as his mouth slowly turns into a nasty
smirk.
“I don’t want to talk; I want to take my car and get the—fuck away from
you. Away from everyone!” Finn fumes.
I shoot him a scathing expression, but it does nothing. Neither of them
gives me attention. I’m basically invisible.
Abram’s head swings back. “You don’t mean that.”
Finn’s grin is slow as another puff of air squeezes its way out of Abram’s
lungs. He says that but even I can see the slim hint of doubt as it flickers
across his pupils.
The hurt flashing in them at the seriousness in Finn’s tone.
He had meant it. Every last breath of it.
I don’t know where or what he wants to do, but whatever it is, Abram’s
smugness at stealing his keys is not helping the already fractured nerves of
their relationship.
If Finn is an avalanche, then Abram is a blizzard. Both are dangerous and
deadly. And me, I seemed to be stuck in the middle, trapped within the
crosscurrent.
Abram jerks his chin. “We need to talk about this. I want to talk,” he
emphasizes like that’ll make a difference.
I feel the weight of his words on my chest.
Finn goes silent, sensing it too. The strain in the room fills the void like
an over plumped bubble that could pop at any moment.
The look is gradual, but much like the spilled juice, it’s like Finn’s
thoughts are unraveling themselves onto the floor.
The detachment he’s feeling inside pours out for everyone to see as his
eyes come alive. No longer is he holding back.
His smirk like that of a fiend, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.
“Too bad you aren’t my real dad.”
Abram’s mouth turns grim. The one motion waning him. The downward
turn of his shoulders fall with the same weight, like he’d expected that
answer. Anticipated it like he’s heard it hundreds of times before.
With hooded eyes, he says, “I don’t care what a piece of paper says. You,
Finn Casper, are my child. My son.”
His true age showing as the lines under his eyes sag. He sounds as
exhausted as I am from all this.
 Abram’s eyes flicker over in my direction for the first time. “Both of
you.”
At his words, something unfurls itself inside my chest. They steal the
breath from my lungs and punch it straight into my gut with force.
His eyes flash and I only see the truth within them. He means every last
word.
In Abram’s eyes, Finn and I are both his children. Biological or not, he
believes that wholeheartedly. I see that, does Finn?
Still, it’s funny how somehow the loudest mouth always seems to win out
instead of the logical one.
My mood resours when I look over and see nothing but utter disgust on
Finn’s face. The sight liquefies that warm feeling inside.
His brows snap together as he mumbles a slew of expletives through
clenched teeth. Charging from the room.
That familiar sense of emptiness rooting itself inside my ribs as I hear the
bedroom door slam upstairs. That one followed by a second, moments later
from Abram’s office.
Alone, I grip the counter, squeezing my eyes shut and doing my best to
push away the anger.
Deep breaths, Rory. Count to five, in. Hold it. Count to five, release.
Inhaling sharply, I open my eyes once my pulse normalizes back to a
somewhat healthy rate. The pressure falls on my gut as my stomach dips. I
know what I need to do, and I have to do it before I lose my nerve.
Heading upstairs, I disregard the music as it rattles the walls and head to
my room. Opening the side drawer next to my bed, I find it in the same spot
it always is.
 Abram said he wanted to talk, and this may not be the conversation he
was expecting but that doesn’t make it any less important.
Pulling out the book, I hug it to my chest, exhaling through my mouth.
Hailey was right, this needs to be discussed.
My feet move on autopilot, and I’m grateful as they guide me. My heart
beats double time.
The knock I give the solid wooden door light enough that I doubt the
wind would even hear it.
My stomach leaps to my chest.
“Come in.”

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 Five

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 Rory

I WALK INTO ABRAM’S office with reluctant steps. The confidence I’d
had before rapidly depleting with each new echo of my shoes.
I clear my throat, my mouth suddenly dry.
He slowly raises his head. The surprised look on his face vanishes as
quickly as it appeared. If we’re being honest, I'm shocked, but I don’t let
him see. My face as blank as the walls of this room.
“Well, come in.” Waving one hand while shuffling around papers with
the other.
I don’t move, stuck in my spot like my feet are caked cement for two
reasons. The last time he’d been doing that, I’d found documents of the
truth and secondly, I calmed down. Or I tell myself I have enough to finally
get the answers I want.
My brain tells me to move, but my heart won’t allow it. Change has
happened every time I’ve been in this room and my gut screams that this
time will be no exception.
 The stress lines that now run along his forehead and down the creases of
his mouth hold the same expression he’d had before. It may have taken
some time, but I came back, not as upset as he asked.
That was nothing compared to how intimidating I’d known him to be
when I was younger. That memory ingrained in my wounded mind forever.
The harshness of that memory stalls me in my tracks for another beat.
Sucked right back into the flashback of my youth. The beginning to my end.
My exhale shallows out, and it’s like I choked on a golf ball. The grip on
my book tightens from where it’s tucked behind my back.
Suddenly, I can’t do anything. Move closer, speak, breathe… nothing.
My subconscious won’t allow the fresh torture.
Concern flashes across Abram’s pupils. The edges of his mouth turn
down like he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
Quickly he wipes it away, rubbing them with the palm of his hands.
“I won’t bite, Rory,” he adds. My name drawn out, his tone sounding
almost defeated.
Choking up the courage, I glance around once more. This time with a
different, new perspective.
The room is exactly as it always is. Dark-brown woods, large ornate
windows, furniture on the far side, and an oversized desk that he’s currently
sitting behind.
Glancing around, I realize the space, although intimidating, didn’t seem
to swallow me with its immense grandness as it had when I was younger.
As a twelve-year-old, Abram’s office seemed intimidating but now it
only looks solitary. Lonesome, more than anything else.
I push air through my lungs, it is as crisp as the memories I was shoving
into my past. Adding them to the endless collection of everything else. I
won’t be intimidated again.
Neither of us is those people anymore.
Reminding myself that this is only a room, and he is only a person
heightens my confidence. Pulling me closer until I come to a stop before
him.
“I have some questions.”
“And I believe I owe you some answers,” he stammers, remembering.
“You do,” I agree. Taking the book from behind me and setting it down
with more grace than previously. “I would like to know why you took it
from that book appraiser.” And how I ended up with it hundreds of miles
away. I want to add but decide to wait. One question at a time.
“May I?”
Blinking, for some reason the question catches me off guard, or maybe
it’s because I’m more preoccupied with watching the way his throat bobs.
My stomach dips the longer the silence grows between us. I haven’t
answered and he hasn’t overstepped, waiting with his fingers interlocked.
I’m convinced they’re webbed together so tightly to keep his shoulders
from shaking.
They very visibly are on the verge. He’s rattled.
Eventually, I give in with a sharp angle of my chin. “As long as you
explain everything I want to know.”
I’m alive and vulnerable, watching as he sucks in a pointed inhale,
agreeing and reaching between us.
Those thick brows pinch together with concentration before they jump.
Widening the longer his fingers skim the page with the inscription.
“You can start anytime.” My smile is tight. Patience dwindling.
 His eyes sober as his attention is pulled away from below him and back
up at me. A melancholy of something plaguing his crumbled exterior.
“I took it because he wouldn’t sell, and I was too impatient to try and
track down another,” he says. “I didn’t want to wait.” Clarifying like I
should know what that means.
I don’t.
“Was it that important?”
Abram cocks his head, the leather of his chair squeaking as his posture
widens, now he’s the one studying me.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” I spit, confused.
“Yes.”
“What was so critically necessary that you, the man who has an endless
fortune, had to resort to theft?” If my words come out disgusted, it’s
because I am. Utterly and completely mortified.
A fondness settles in his gaze unaffected by my tenacity. The softness in
his demeanor is the complete opposite of everything inside me.
Irritating me more the longer I’m thrown off guard.
Why do his eyes have a slight gleam to them? A shiny-like texture
flickering in their depths.
“This book,” he reiterates, tapping it to his palm before once again
sliding it between us. “It was meant to be given to your mother. I wanted to
propose to her with it.”
The air in my throat turns choppy, but I don’t dare look away. Those
words written inside immortalized in my brain. Carrying an entirely new
meaning now that I knew the author and their intention.
 A closed chapter does not mean the book is finished. We make our own
endings.
“What?”
“I wanted to marry Lillian,” he clarifies. Reiterating it like my ears still
weren’t ringing and my chest wasn’t pounding from the first time he’d said
it.
My mom? He wanted to be with her. This whole time? My entire life
she’d blamed me and now I find out he wanted her all along.
The fuck?
“Would you please stop messing with that thing on your wrist?” He
barges in, cutting through my thoughts. “It’s…distracting.”
My eyes slam down briefly before they land back on his, narrowing. The
nails of my fingers digging into the fatty part of my palms before they fully
fall back to my sides.
The movement automatic like I’m still a child being scolded.
Something shifts in his demeanor. Fighting as he works to hold still, but
then he shakes his head, and it disappears. That chuckle, anxious as it
pushes past his lips. “Anything else you’d like to know or is that it?”
My features harden. Resolute.
Abram’s tone is clipped like he can’t get me to leave fast enough. Too
bad for him I’m not leaving this time until I have all the answers.
“Why didn’t you?” I lick my lips. “Propose, that is?”
We aren’t here to talk about my bracelet.
“Life had other plans, I guess.” He waves his hand dismissively.
“You, guess?” No, I know there’s more. “Abram, you agreed to answer
my questions,” I remind him.
 “And I had. Had I not?” Palms flattening to the desk as his lips pull to
one side. “Life did have other plans for your mother and me both.”
Strongly we hold the other’s stare.
A rumble of something underneath my ribs pushes past my teeth the
longer he keeps his expression unyielding.
This, whatever it was exactly, some sort of hard limit for him. I saw it.
He wasn’t going to give more than that, so there’s no need to waste the
oxygen and try to push further.
I try a different tactic.
“What would have happened to Finn if you’d chosen my mother?”
Would he have ended up as I had? Abandoned and forgotten.
“I don’t know,” Abram sighs. His emotions are carefully guarded now.
“But there is no point in speculating the what-ifs.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle with awareness. Finn would
have been me. Our roles reversed.
I hear the warning in his tone though. Abram is cautioning me not to
press, so again I try another strategy.
“How did I end up with it then?”
Genuinely curious because I still have zero clue.
That glint in his sockets is back. “That one, I can sincerely tell you I
haven’t the slightest clue about.”
He’d been stalling before but now he’s being genuine, I can tell that, but I
can also read how he has his own theories. The words hanging there on the
tip, but like a mouse to a trap, they too will die there.
“Anything else?”
My eyelids stutter, and my stomach plummets but I do it anyway because
it’s what’s right. Sliding the book back over in his direction, my anxiety
screams to reach for it and take it back as soon as I do but I don’t.
This book was never meant for me.
“You should keep it.”
Accidentally, and unknowingly I may have received it, but that’s it. I may
have held on to it but now it’s time to give it back. The truth behind
anything is always more pungent than a lie.
I gulp but it tastes thick like syrup. “This story was never meant for me.”

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 Six

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 Abram

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Then…
“WHAT IS THAT?”
My upper lip curls but I don’t bother lifting my head. She knows damn
well what this is. She’d shown me one of her own not but a week earlier.
“You aren’t allowed to do whatever you want because you’re pregnant
with my child.” I snarl.
I flinch, staring at the ultrasound. Not because of it, but because her heels
click, telling me she’s coming closer instead of the other way. The absolute
opposite direction I want her headed.
The bland expression I shoot at the person sitting across from me goes
unfazed. My pride is choked, locked, and held in place.
This. The photo sitting in my hand is my greatest joy but also my
heaviest burden. I should be celebrating. The black-and-white card was new
from our appointment this morning. The smallness of the child we’d created
together growing larger every day.
Lillian and I’s child. A girl.
Despite this mess I’ve gotten myself into, my chest swells, because I’m
going to be a dad.
“That’s exactly what that means,” Lorna hums in her own self-approval.
Making herself too comfortable on the other side of my desk when she has
her own to get back to.
“Didn’t Silas need some copies made before our meeting this afternoon?”
“Already finished,” she notes, staring at her cuticles.
“The phones then? We have an important call we’re expecting—”
 “—With the holders in Australia. I know.” She says scoffing while her
eyes find the ceiling. “I don’t expect them for another thirty minutes. Spare
me five.”
I don’t want to spare you five seconds, my expression screams.
My one moment of weakness, the entire reason I’m in this mess, to begin
with. I have no one else to blame but myself. I fucked up and am now
forced to deal with the consequences.
“Besides,” Lorna derides. Voice singsongy as she rubs at the flatness of
her belly. Lillian’s now a small bump. “With baby and all, I should stay off
my feet more anyway.”
“Your job is seated behind the reception desk.” Arching a brow, I remind
her of her place in this company like she isn’t already aware she’s only a
secretary.
Catching, my gaze is once again drawn to the photo I’ve refused to put
away since we left the appointment. Never would I admit the embarrassing
number of times this one photo has distracted me from my work today.
I’m going to be a dad.
“You know, Lillian isn’t the only one carrying your seed,” she spits out.
That familiar hint of jealousy coating her words.
A normal person who wasn’t used to her envious antics might take
offense, but I’d grown used to it in the months she’s worked here. Her
wanting what others have, not my insecurity to worry about or work
through.
Making sure she completes the tasks we assign my only care, and she’s
rather diligent. Staying on task and up to date. Which is how she’s managed
to last so long.
My tongue clicks. “Lorna, that’s unprofessional.”
 Rising from her chair her fingers glide along the surface of my desk, face
razor-sharp and disturbingly provocative.
“You mean as unprofessional as you fucking me right on top of this desk
about a month ago?” she broods and my skin crawls, not needing the
reminder.
That blissful bubble of seeing my daughter’s sonogram bursts once again.
I messed up. Bad.
It had been late; Silas had left not an hour earlier, and I was stressed
finishing up things before the deadline. Lorna had come in, dropping off
what I hardly remember—it’s all irrelevant now.
Only she hadn’t left, pouring drinks from the bar caddy instead. One led
to two, and two led to nine, and before I knew it, she’d lifted her dress and
was bending herself over my desk.
In the entirety of my whole life, I’ve never regretted anything. Chalking
any mistake up to a learning experience. This, however, is one thing I wish I
could take back. Not because I now have another child on the way but
because of how it was created.
I failed both Lillian and our unborn daughter.
“Your five minutes are up,” I bark, wanting her gone. But unfortunately,
even if I fired her at this point, it would no longer be enough. She’s also
carrying my child and therefore now will always be a feature in my life.
Her smile grows, slinking back down into the chair and my stomach
revolts. All I feel is the wickedness of her soul.
She’s a poison and I have no elixir.
I could ask Silas what to do if I really wanted to. The thought crossing
my mind quite a bit since I’d found out I was expecting not one but two
children. From two different women.
 For all his faults he had something I desperately needed right now.
Foresight.
Then I remembered why I hadn’t reached out. For one, Silas loves
desperation, thrives off it, and I could admit I was close, but not enough.
Not yet at least.
Two, he has his own worries. Him expecting a child as well with his own
wife. A son. His only a bit further along than ours.
Silas loves competition so I know in his twisted brain he’d assumed we’d
gotten pregnant to spite him, but that’s not the truth. When Lillian told me,
it was a complete surprise.
Something I didn’t realize how badly I wanted until she’d shown me that
first sonogram a few months ago. Our child only a blip of something then.
“My lunch should be ready for you to go pick up.” A complete lie since I
haven’t placed it yet, but I want her gone.
She crosses her legs, straightening out the already perfect hem of her
skirt. The sigh that follows just as dramatic. “Not so fast. We need to
discuss something else first.”
Lorna’s eyes are beady and too sharp.
Her smile that’s not really a smile, turns overly sweet the longer she
gauges me not saying a thing. Dramatic in the most irritable way possible. I
try not to read too much into what goes on inside that crooked brain of hers,
but she makes it nearly impossible.
Lorna’s become more defiant since telling me the unexpected news. Does
she think she can get away with whatever she wants because she’s got my
child growing inside her?
Her grin grows more wicked as mine deepens, turning down in the other
direction. That’s exactly what she thinks.
 I snort, fat fucking chance. I’m still her boss and part owner of this
company.
“Spit it out and then go grab my food.” That I’ll be ordering as soon as
she stops looking at me like she knows something I don’t.
“What’s this?” she asks. Talon-like fingernails snatching at the item
before I can reach it myself.
“Lorna. Lunch,” I grit out, even as she ignores me. Flipping through the
pages of the book I’d gotten after dropping Lillian off. Making one other
stop and heading back here.
Jittery. I’m jittery.
Her flipping stops, arching a curious brow, and I want to jump across the
table. I know exactly what she’s just read. The inscription barely dried to
the page before she’d found it.
This book is what I’d planned on proposing to Lillian with tonight, in her
favorite place. Underneath the wall of glass and roses and every other type
of flower she’d thought to add since I’d bought the place for her.
Her wonderland, she’d always tell me.
“For Lillian.” Lorna’s comment comes as a statement rather than a
question. We both already knew the answer.
She snorts, and it sounds heinous. That inkling of jealousy back.
“Let me guess, it’s her birthday? Anniversary?” Straightening her spine,
she snaps her fingers, getting into it now. “Or is this the way you’re going
to break it to her that I’m having your baby too?”
I avoid giving her the extra attention she badly wants when she begins to
rub her hand over her stomach, mocking. Her actions clear and without
humiliation.
I could never be ashamed of Lillian.
 “A proposal actually. I’m going to ask Lillian to marry me.”
The horrendous noise that seeps up from her mouth stills, dying there on
her tongue. Her palms press, flattening into the edge of the desk. Throat
bobbing.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Down.
Up and down, she takes in the serious expression etched permanently
across mine.
“You can’t be serious,” she splutters.
The thin line of my lip upturns for the first time since her arrival,
coaxing. “Lillian is who I want.” The only woman I’ve ever desired.
She winces, pushing back her shock. If she thought she'd had me she
thought wrong. Lillian is who I will always choose.
Lorna’s face shifts the longer the news settles in the room, thickening as
she quietly simmers in her spot. Gradually, like the sun setting before night,
she turns more into that darkened ball of resentment.
If she thought she had me, she thought wrong.
“I love her,” saying the words even though they’re unneeded.
Shaking, her skin glows, ashen and pale. Her tone is lethal as she scrapes
words from her mouth. “You can’t do this to me. I will not be… rejected,”
she seethes.
A blaze of something flashes across her pupils.
“You and Lillian are what? Going to have the perfect life, with your
perfect little family while I get what? Nothing!” Jumping from her chair, it
slams to the ground with a thud. “I’m not a handout, Abram.”
 “I never said you were.”
Lorna’s face has always been stretched too tight, but now it creases,
outlined in her rage. Chest rising and falling in rapid breaths, she stares at
nothing.
She swallows and it’s then like her vision clears from whatever doubt
she’d had before is replaced with certainty. I could wince at the danger
behind it.
“I refuse to raise this child alone. It takes two people to make a baby. You
owe me.”
The woman is as deranged as she is unhinged.
“Why should she get the world when we’re equals?” Her vision carries
that foggy, distant look again. It’s less filmy but still very much there.
They aren’t and never will be the same. She’s too far gone for me to try
and explain this to her—rationally of course.
While Lillian is kind and graceful, Lorna is spiteful and siliceous.
“I deserve this life,” she decides. “You will marry me, Abram.” Adamant
when she has no right.
My head arches on a laugh. Her joke making me feel the lightest I have
in over a week. There isn’t a chance that is happening.
“You will,” she restates as if reading my mind. So sure of herself. “Make
me your wife, or I will make you regret ever thinking you could abandon
me.”
I wave her off, unconvinced. She’s the one who thought she’d be
forgotten, not me.
It’s only after that action do I fully understand I messed up. The putrid of
her wickedness glows, bouncing off the whites of her eyes. Shining with
venom and hatred the longer they have to cast over.
 “You will do this; you’ll choose me or-or… or I’ll make it go away.”
My heart stills, literally stills.
My hand protectively covers the photo like that will do anything.
Never in my life has a threat ever hurt this brashly. In a matter of minutes
my entire world is turning, rotating again on its axis, and I have no one else
to blame.
I did this. Me.
I ruined us.
“You wouldn’t,” I rage, even though I know the truth. Deeply it settles,
rooting as the idea has longer to form in her demented mind.
She would.
She’d do something to my daughter.
Lorna licks at her lips, the action like a snake pushing its tongue past its
teeth right before it’s set to strike. Anticipating the kill.
“Break it off with Lillian. No contact with her and your other child will
stay unharmed.” The way she says other, like the one she’s carrying is
somehow superior, disgusts me more than I already am.
The muscles in my core clench tighter than they already are. Knowing
better than to call her bluff this time.
Her eyes are as dead as her conscience before she sets the nail to its
coffin. My fate already sealed within its grave.
“Marry me, Abram.”

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 Seven

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 Rory

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN? I’m not taking it back,” Abram demands,

offended. Pushing the book back to my side.
“I can’t keep it.”
“Why not?” he asks through clenched teeth.
“Because somehow in spite of neither of us knowing how, I ended up
with it.” It doesn’t feel right keeping it anymore.
“Well, I don’t want it.”
This comment piques my interest. The statement carrying a set of claws
when he’d worked so hard to get it in the first place.
“Why not?”
“Because Rory, that book doesn’t matter anymore. I already have what I
want. My daughter is here, where she’s always belonged. I don’t need
anything else.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat, that I swear feels like it’s
covered in needles. What? Where I’ve always belonged? Doesn’t need
anything else?
 “I don’t need it, you keep it,” Abram adds after another moment. The air
at the moment is so full it clings, hanging here between us in a sensation I
don’t understand to pick apart.
Whatever it is though, it’s pivotal, I understand that much. Abram who
could win without mercy, kill without attacking, and be ruthless to a fault is
none of those things as of current.
A shadow of something casts over his eyes, but I don’t understand what it
means until his mouth opens again. The brittle words are spoken under his
breath, but somehow, that makes them all the more daunting in this too-
large room.
“Both of you belonged here.”
I stare because that’s all I can do. I don’t blink or breathe. Just stare.
Even my nerves, as fried as they are, can’t seem to move. The blood
inside my vein stalling abruptly.
My brain though is working fine and begins to ponder if he’s talking
about Finn and me, or me and someone else. I already know the answer, but
I bite my cheek refusing to believe it, after everything he’d put me through.
All the turmoil I’d been left with. Forced to grow up in and now he
chooses to be vulnerable?
My jaw locks, my anger reigniting.
How dare he.
My chin jerks. “It wasn’t Lillian.”
I have no idea if that answer is obvious or not, but I say it anyway. I want
Abram to know that she didn’t give it to me. I need him to understand
that… for some reason. My head is a mess of chaos.
“I know.”
 My brows snap together. The mix of surprise and confusion I know is
evident in my every feature.
“I should get going,” somehow managing to get the words out. My
stomach leaping from my ribs the longer the pressure builds, falling to my
gut.
I’d gotten answers—well for the most part—but I’m ready to go. I don’t
want to be in here anymore. It’s too heavy, tense. It’s making me
uncomfortable.
It’s not until I’ve almost reached the exit does he call my name. My full
name. Not Rory, but Aurora.
My hand rests on the knob, it sounds too formal, serious. I wait for him
to continue instead of leaving like I originally planned.
“If I hold on to this, you have to promise me something.”
Unlikely, I think as I roll my eyes, not that he sees. He goes on, not
expecting a response, as he should.
“Make sure that every flower inside that conservatory gets a fair shot.
You don’t have to hover, just… it’s nice. You’ve done an amazing job in
upkeeping the place.”
A warmness spreads inside. This is not at all what I expected to tumble
from his lips.
“All I ask is that you continue maintaining its wonderland.”
That tingly sensation grows, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It
starts from inside my chest and ignites to every other part of my body. Up
past my throat, over my shoulders and down my arms, even past my toes,
does it move.
Wonderland.
I smirk. I like it, the name fitting.
 Straightening, I stand taller as I leave.
He didn’t tell me everything and I’ll never understand why that is, but for
some reason, that’s suddenly okay.
Maybe I don’t need to know it all. Sometimes all we need is a small
amount, not the entire story. Especially if it’s not their story to tell.
The words Abram had written to my mother spring forward as they
bounce off my thoughts. This chapter may be over but that doesn’t mean
I’m finished.
That book helped me for years, it was a lifeline when I had none. I’m not
that person anymore, I don’t need the constant security as when I first
arrived.
I’ve always been in charge of the ending. I just didn’t understand how
true those words were until this very moment.
My life has never been easy, but it’s made me what I am. Shown me what
I can survive. Who I’ve become.

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 Eight

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 Cole

WANT TO KNOW WHAT the best feeling in the world is? Looking up and
seeing those silver eyes shine only for me. Her smile grows the longer she
grins down from her usual spot on the bleachers catching me. Sporting my
jersey on her back.
There’s absolutely nothing better and anyone who disagreed could fight
me on it.
Those blonde waves dancing across her hairline. Angling her head from
side to side in amusement when I still haven’t looked away.
How could I when the most stunning girl in the world was all the way up
there and I was down here?
The creases between her eyebrows pinch in the most adorable way as she
nods her head. Clearly telling me to focus on the court and get my head
back in the game.
My grin turns roguish and although she rolls her eyes, I see the delight
hidden in there too.
 She tries again, mouthing some words, but my expression tells her fuck
that. I know the time and I’ve got a few seconds left of our time-out.
Besides, she may not realize it, but Rory’s the only thing I need to help
me focus. Her silent support always pushes me to do better—to be better,
for her.
Everything I do is for her.
If I owned the world, Rory would be the one holding the oxygen I needed
to survive within it.
She stands, letting someone squeeze by her on their way to their seats
and I see that number two sitting across her front. The sight shoots
something straight through my chest. Same as it does every other time, I
spot it.
Only I notice that minuscule hint, a flickering of her doubt that no one
else would ever see. Rory’s acting in the only way she knows how. Putting
on a front. Being strong for both of us, but it’s only exactly that. A facade.
I know this whole Finn thing is weighing down on her just as heavily as
it is on us—if not more some days.
Some nights after she’s drifted off to sleep in my arms, I can feel how she
stirs. Her subconscious is the only thing giving away that she’s stressed.
Every once in a while, she’ll mumble things in her sleep.
I glance up one last time, but her focus is no longer on me, but on helping
the elderly couple as they move past. Her patience infinite with how
comatosely they move.
Rory is everything I’m not and most days, I don’t deserve her.
Even with me being distant, moody, and most days a downright pain in
the ass—a fact she’s never once been afraid to call me out on—she’s stayed.
My girl has always supported me. Supported us.
 God, I am one lucky son of a bitch.
The sound of the buzzer blares in my ears. Time’s up.
Time to put back on my face for everyone else. The cocky, confident,
asshole they all know, but secretly envy.
I used to think they were all pathetic, but now I realize that I’d have been
jealous too if I had something worth losing. I do… now. And I’d do
anything to protect what’s mine.
I can’t help myself, shooting Rory one last look.
She catches it, and her cheeks turn a nice shade of pink before I’m forced
to turn away. The ball shoved into my hands from the sidelines. My smirk
as overconfident as knowing we are going to win this game.
Officially we’re in the playoffs. Having already dominated the regular
season coming out almost perfect. Other than that, one loss.
Now we’re in our first round of game play and after we secure this win,
we’ll be onto the next. Then the championship is nothing but one smooth
ride away.
We’re going to win. How can we not when we have a team this solid?
Our guys are jacked, stacked, and hungry for that title.
The ref blows his whistle and it’s go time. Already knowing where I want
the ball to go since I’d been scanning, assessing my move the few seconds I
had before he’d blown it.
There are less than ten seconds left on the clock and the other team’s only
down by two points. Hence the reason their coach called the time-out.
He didn’t know it, but shortly he’ll find out what a waste it was. There
isn’t a thing they could do that my boys won’t anticipate.
The title is what we want, and this game is another stepping-stone to that
victory.
 My hands stall on the ball, running the clock.
Originally, it was going to go to Eli, but his post buddy decided last
second to finally set a solid screen. My power forward is also out, our rival
glued to my teammate’s back.
The team's good, I’ll give them that. We’re better.
My mouth curves viciously when the guy before me’s shoulders drop. It’s
the tiniest amount but it’s all I need to know I’ve got him. Intimidation a
close second to my other favorite tactic, bulldozing.
My focus is locked on him as the ball fly’s past. Going to the only person
I spot open in my peripherals.
The guy’s body turns, not noticing it until it’s too late. Grin widening as I
step back across the line, checking him as I charge past.
Easy peasy.
My broth—Finn, already with the ball in hand, bypasses the defense,
plants his feet, and arches his arm with that perfect curve.
The ball flies, not a second later hitting the rim. Clinking the brinks edge
as it bounces off the galvanized steel.
It bounces not once, not twice, but three times. Nothing but gravity
stopping it from going in. Sure, we don’t need the points, already ahead, but
it’s always nice securing it that much more.
Three seconds left.
Our win already guaranteed, but I’ve never been against bettering my
odds.
The ball smoothly falls through the hoop, and I look over at Finn’s face.
It’s as blank, as the truth we keep trying to convince ourselves isn’t true.
We’re brothers.
 A seeded sigh leaves my lips. Too bad digesting that fact isn’t as easy as
landing a shot in a hoop.

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 Nine

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 Rory

CLOSING MY LOCKER, A hand flies from behind and latches on to my

waist, swiftly turning me. Pushing my back into the metal.
My body held still as Cole leans in with his warm mouth already pressed
against my skin. It knows that familiar touch and purrs to life in its hunger
for him.
His tongue inviting as he nips at my earlobe playfully before inhaling. A
rasped-out noise leaving his throat.
“Spring break is ours, Princess,” he groans into my collarbone and my
stomach caves.
His hold tightens on my hips, as possessively as his mouth that’s now
found my own. I bite down in my own craving on Cole’s plump bottom lip.
The bell had just rung. Students lingered in the hallways on their way to
their next class, which is where I should be headed. Suddenly, I don’t have
the urge.
Heat builds between my legs the longer Iceman’s lips stay firmly pressed
to mine. If he was the drug, then I am an addict, and his mouth is the fix.
 I will never be able to get enough of him.
The wet smile he gives me a surprise as he pulls his mouth away.
“Morning, baby.”
“Morning,” I say back, arching a brow.
The distinct little smirk he’s shooting me tells me he’s up to something. I
know this look and the expression both scares and excites me.
Cole always has a plan; it’s how he went about executing them that’s
sometimes alarming.
“You, me, and the lake house tomorrow,” he breathes out, tucking a lock
of loose hair back behind my ear.
My head arches back in surprise. “What?” I ask, confused.
His focus stays on that stray lock of hair. Fiddling with the ends instead
of meeting my stare head-on. I watch in concern as his throat bobs once.
He’s acting upbeat but I can tell his energy’s off. He’s distracted by
something. Why did the man who’s never unsure of anything, seem almost
anxious?
My hand presses lightly against his chest and those cerulean eyes finally
meet mine. They’re like liquid pools of glass they’re so clear.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” I say softly, feeling his heartbeats
under my touch.
Cole can pretend all he wants that he’s fine. Let the world believe that he
is, but I understand him, and I know what’s on his mind. And it’s something
other than spring break starting soon.
The uncertainty doesn’t last long and seconds later that arrogant mask is
shifting back into place like it’d never left.
Laughter that I can’t help bubbles from my throat when he peppers my
mouth in kisses humorously. He’s trying to distract me, and it’s working.
 A hiss falls from my mouth when his thumbs lift the bottom hem of my
shirt, pressing into my bare skin. His calloused fingers move back and forth
slowly as they skim along the top rim of the skirt’s edge.
My hand’s fist at his shirt, lasering in on him. Staring him down. I’m
trying to do my best to not let him coax me with his touch, but Cole can
always be so damn persuasive when he wants to.
His face a stony expression of nothingness. Not at all bothered by our
peers.
“You know, I never did get a chance to take you out on that date,” he
notes, leaning closer.
“Iceman…” I gasp out on a hiss. Eyes fleeting past him.
Raising his arm, he shifts, using his body as a way to conceal me from
the few students still littering the hallways. Completely unaffected by my
uncertainty.
“Let me take you to the lake house?” His voice is rough, scratchy. A
whispered plea as his fingers start to skim underneath the seam and along
my lower belly.
That need builds further, igniting the longer he flirts with what my body
craves. What I desire. Him.
“What do you say?” His smile coaxing and far too persuasive. “Please,
Princess?”
“Always with that word,” I grumble.
Please. He knows what that word does to me. The one thing I’d only ever
heard him say with me. No one else, only me.
The boyish expression that crosses his face makes my ribs expand. Cole
already knows he’s won.
 Still, I find myself nodding when the tips of his fingers skim the thin line
of my panties. Swallowing, words something I’m not sure I can manage
right now.
My breathing hollows out as my heart rate skyrockets. This is dangerous
and risky, and stupid, and I loved every minute of it.
Cole’s face darkens at my willingness to succumb. The youthfulness of
his features shift to carnality.
A small flicker of something never leaves his eyes even as they turn
molten.
As if some metaphorical timer had been set, it’s like the thing finally
goes off and he’s done waiting. The dam breaks inside as his mouth
smashes against my own. Concealing the noise that tried to rip from my
throat with his mouth as his fingers find another hole.
They pick up their pace and my hunger for him outweighs everything
else. We can discuss what’s really on his mind later. Right now, I just need
him. Always, him.
With the way he’s angled his oversized frame, it looks like we are two
kids making out in the hallway, but it’s so much more than that.
His movements are controlled even as my body shakes under the
intensity of his touch. The depth builds the longer he works me. His fingers
pick up their pace and it isn’t long before I’m coming.
The stiffness in Cole’s pants twitches. Pressing itself against my thigh as
I come down off the shock waves. His mouth suffocates me in a gloriously
intoxicating way to lessen the noises I can’t bother to hide.
“No, baby,” he says affectionately. Squeezing me tenderly as he drags my
hand away from the bulge pressed into my sternum. I whimper at the
rejection.
 I’m somewhat more sated after looking past him, realizing the hallway is
empty. I am suddenly bold too.
“Why? I want to make you feel good,” I argue.
Sure, Cole had gotten me off, but he hasn’t let me touch him since
everything with Silas and Finn happened. Not once have we had sex since
then. He’s touched me but not allowed himself the same generosity.
I know he loves me but more times than not, I see a hint of a shadow
flash across his pupils, doubt maybe? That little seed pokes its way through
my head and makes me question everything.
With all things considered it’s a weird scenario—for us all—I get it, but I
never once doubted what we had. I wish I could say the same for him, but I
can’t. Like everyone else, he won’t open up, instead choosing to distract me
with the intenseness that is him.
And I let him every time because I love him, and I want this fixed. I want
us good again.
Reaching behind my neck he arches my head up, kissing my forehead
gently. Pulling away enough to speak, but not so I can see his expression.
It holds there a second longer than it should…
Then he does things like this. He looks down at me, one side of his
mouth hooking upward. A glint in his eye. Telling me Cole Kellet always
gets what he wants, and what he wants is me. Then I feel stupid for
doubting him. Doubting us.
That saccharine grin grows, and I feel even worse. It’s all so confusing.
“If that’s the case then cancel any plans you have after school. I’m taking
you home and we’re packing your things and leaving for the lake house.
Tonight.”
“Tonight?”
 He clicks his tongue. “I want to be alone with you. Just you and me. I
think we’ve earned it.” Eyes dancing back and forth as they sparkle down at
me.
The last part of his sentence is faint, and it sends chills raining down my
spine.
Cole speaks again. This time his voice comes off a bit more strangled,
only loud enough for me to hear the desperation in his tone. The need I’d
been yearning to hear.
“Today will already be long enough after your little tease here in the
hallway.”
My tease? I want to roll my eyes, and so I do.
“I don’t think I can wait any longer. It’s been too long, and tomorrow is
too far away. I need you coming while I’m buried deep inside you.”
My breathing shallows out when he pulls away. Giving me one last
candid, mischievous grin before rounding the hallway.
Leaving me standing here frustrated but excited. A secret smirk crosses
my lips. Cole always knows exactly what he’s doing, and tonight he’ll be
doing me.
Walking away, he’s left me humming and desperate for him all over
again. Tempting me with the promise of time for us to be alone. Enticing
me by giving me a sneak preview of what’s to come, if I agree.
My chest heaves and I gulp past the fevered promise of his word. Cole’s
too charming for his own good and I’m too far gone to relent.
He knew he had me. My decision was made long before he’d gotten me
off in the hallway.
An irritated groan leaves my mouth, spotting the time on the clock
mounted to the wall. This is going to be the longest day in history.
OceanofPDF.com
 Ten

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

THE DRIVE TO ICEMAN’S lake house is far less confusing this time for
several reasons. First, I wasn’t the one driving, listening to Hailey point out
less-than-accurate directions. Second, there’s a bit of daylight left in the
sky.
Cole drove us with ease. His hand firmly placed on the inner part of my
thigh most of the trip while I stared out the window in a daze. My mind free
to wander, enjoying the calm.
It was long ago, before I’d been forced back, I accepted that life is a
clustered mess. Each new day as unpredictable as the one after. No one
knows what the future holds. I appreciate what I have and am starting to
learn to enjoy the ride.
So, that’s what I did, both metaphorically and literally by agreeing to
come.
The trees wind in that familiar way as we zoom by, almost there. The sun
pushing off our backs as we make our way closer through the less dense
branches.
 This time instead of pulling off to an abandoned area of open field, Cole
parks the car at the front of the house.
Slinging both our bags over one arm, he opens my door with the other,
reaching for my hand before leading us inside.
We may not have spoken since we’d left but I was okay with that.
Enjoying the freedom of being alone with him, even if the pinch between
his brows deepened the more times his phone vibrated.
He hasn’t checked it once. It’s stayed in its place in the console between
us the entire time. Logic told me it was his father, my heart, however, hoped
it might be someone else. Like his brother—
“What!” he barks into the receiving end of the line. My hand is dropped
and replaced with whoever was on the other end of his cell phone.
Guess the constant vibrating finally got the better of him.
The muscles in his shoulders swell, tensing. The conversation as short
and as one sided as my attention span currently realizing who it is. His
voice is dull through the receiver but not any less foreboding.
Silas.
Quietly, I let him go for several minutes before my agitation gets the
better of me. We were supposed to be here for us, not business.
Snatching the phone, Cole’s eyes spring over. The prominent scowl on
his face drops lower, as his attention is pulled away from the text he’d been
skimming after hanging up.
There may be things going on right now out of our control. His barely
there patience thinned to a thread, but we’re not here for work.
It’s been less than ten minutes since we arrived, and I’m already irritated.
The peacefulness of the drive evaporated as soon as he answered the phone.
The text scrolling after hadn’t helped either.
 There are things—big things—he’s not willing to open up about yet, but I
won’t let his father be a distraction. I’ve been patient, but not anymore.
I understand the frustrations. His family losing their entire half of Hardin
is not easy, but I’m done letting Iceman use that as an excuse. Willingly
letting his father parade him around, and Cole doing so easily. I know it’s a
diversion, but I’m strung out.
“Stop!”
The bated, deeply seeded anger of his stare should make me flinch the
longer that one word hangs between us. I don’t, flinch that is, because I
know the look is not meant for me. It’s directed at me but it’s for everything
else going on.
“Stop… what?” His voice calm, too cautious. Studying me.
Iceman knows exactly what.
All of this, I want to yell! I want everything to go back to how it was
before their final regular season game. Before everything changed.
I must take too long to answer because before I can do anything he’s
stretching his arm out between us. Flexing, the tips of his fingers fold in and
out. Demeaning.
“Come on, Rory, give me my phone back.” His sigh is as mulled as it is
infuriating.
“No,” I reply. Hugging it to my chest. “You don’t need it,” unless you
want to talk to one person in particular. My tone implying the last part
without it needing to be said.
Cole’s response is to exhale roughly out his nose, that too perfect jawline
ticcing in place.
“We came here to have spring break to ourselves.” Remember? I lift my
chin defiantly. “We came here for us.”
 Everyone’s getting too comfortable staying confined to denial. To what is
our new reality.
“You should talk to him,” I conclude after a few more loud beats of my
heart.
“Can’t.”
“Why not?” I grit out.
“You took my phone, and we’re talking right now, sweetheart.” Those
bent fingers, flick upward as he lists each new item off. “Besides, as you
said we came here for us,” he deadpans like the sarcastic asshole he is.
My expression is not at all amused by his sarcasm, and I easily let him
see that. His pupils shoot to the ceiling in response. Scoffing, before
grabbing our bags and bypassing me.
“Please,” I plead. He’s already at the stairwell. The very same one he’d
found me at when I’d gone exploring at the back-to-school bash.
How different things are now…
“I just want everyone—” I swallow. “This to all be okay.” Pleading,
willing it to go back to our normal.
His hand stalls on the banister. I’m not trying to hide my emotions
anymore; they are open and visible.
“I’m tired of the awkwardness. I hate it.” All of it. The bulkiness of it
clinging to the air anytime we were all around each other.
Speaking the truth lifts some of the weight from my chest. Yet, it does
nothing to shift the heightened thickness in the air. That stays with
persistence.
Shifting, he gives me a portion of himself, even though that jaw still
works in place. Face weathered and fierce even at profile.
 I take that as my cue, eating up the distance, and placing either of my
hands beside his one on the smooth finish of the rail. A lifetime ago we
stood in this very same spot, only our positions reversed.
I’d been the one looking for escape then. Any way out. A disagreement
the only thing to fill the walls then too.
“I don’t want to talk,” he says eventually. Sounding as exhausted as I felt.
“Not right now, Princess.” Plucking the phone, I’d forgotten I was still
holding from my grasp and charging the rest of the way up the stairs.
My head hangs. The blunt tip of disappointment prodding my gut in his
wake. “You never want to talk,” I mumble, speaking only to my shoes. “No
one does.”

I couldn’t tell you how long I stayed downstairs after that. We both needed
the distance though, so I kept to myself.
The heaviness of it all must have gotten to me because my lashes are
fluttering back open. Soft kisses pepper my chin before they lower, finding
my neck the more I come to.
I groan, and I swear I see something that resembles a smile coming from
Cole’s hovering face. Strands of his black hair dangle the longer he leans
over the arm of the couch my head currently rests on.
Those ice-colored eyes totally zoned in on me. The blue color in them as
intense as ever. Vivid and bright.
I chalk that demur grin up to a hallucination. The haziness of my mind,
jumbled almost, but not entirely awake yet.
 “Come,” he says. Straightening his arms, elbows firmly locked on either
side of my face. Using them as leverage he lifts himself from his squatted
position behind me. Taller now, but no less close than before.
“Where?” I blink.
The room, I realize, is encased in too much blackness. The sun must have
set fully since I dozed off.
Well, other than the light from the lamp at my feet. Funny how I don’t
remember being the one to turn it on.
“Where else,” he mocks. “I owed you a date, remember?”
I don’t move automatically. That deeply rooted insecurity of
disappointment from before reminds me why I’m down here to begin with.
Unlike me, that hostility Cole had before has disappeared. His eyes
sparkle with mischief right before I’m being moved. Arms hooking my
underarms and up and over the side of the couch I go. My feet land on the
ground with a thud.
“Cool it, Iceman! I’m not a basketball,” I joke, grabbing at my dizzied
frame. “You can’t just toss me around.”
“You sure about that?” Eyes full on glittering now.
I don’t hesitate. “Absolutely—whoa!”
Moving, we’re moving, him tossing me over his shoulder with predator-
like speed.
“Put me down,” I complain but it holds no weight. The fits of laughter
between each word do not help my case. But neither is the bouncing as he
climbs the stairs.
His playfulness so different than earlier. This is my favorite version of
him. The eased, no walls up, Cole.
 Our spring break hadn’t started out the best, but it seems to be getting
better now.
More bursts of laughter erupt when he finally puts me back down on the
ground inside the master bedroom.
“Go on,” he encourages, angling his head toward the already-opened
balcony doors.
“What’s going on?”
“Let’s go look together,” he decides. He smirks down at me like it’s a
weapon. His giddiness contagious.
Between steps, I remind myself that this was his idea. Sure, he could
have afforded to have gone anywhere in the world. Spend the break
somewhere tropical and luxurious like most of the other students at KPA
but he hadn’t. He wanted to bring me here. Cole wanted us to have this time
alone.
He wants us to work, and he’s trying.
Now it’s my turn. To try that is.
I remember when I’d come here the first time. How I’d imagined what
the view had looked like from this floor, but I’d never thought I’d get the
chance to actually see it.
The view of the lake below should’ve been the most impressive thing and
it would have had I not turned my head to the side.
“How’d I do?” he asks, lips grazing the shell of my ear. His arms wrap
around my waist giving me butterflies in the same swift motion.
Another ragged breath drops, pressing from my lungs. “Cole this is…”
“…All for you,” he whispers, sending jolted shivers down my spine.
Finishing for me when I cannot.
 I’m grateful at least one of us can speak without sounding like cotton has
been shoved down their vocal cords.
Stunned. I’m stunned.
Hundreds of string lights dangle. Glowing as they light up the entire
second-story balcony with a warm ambience. The brightness so calming it
could compete with the relaxation of staring up at the stars.
A canopy set up on the farthest side. Sheer panels of white cloth draped
over its every edge, lazily blowing with the water’s breeze.
Inside, dozens of patterned pillows are spread out with a small table set
for two in the center. A colorful oversized rug tying all the colors and
textures together.
Cole gives me a small squeeze and I swear it jump-starts my heart again.
I blink and then I do it again. Not trusting what’s before me.
“Do you like it?” he goads, already knowing the answer, but that doesn’t
stop me from hearing the smile in his voice.
My awe is carried out in my silence. Also gaping. Lots of that. I’m
positive my mouth has permanently been hanging open since I first saw it
all.
I spin in his hold winding my arms around his neck. He cocks his head
staring down at me. I could drown in my own air at the arrogance radiating
off him. Iceman knows he’s done well.
“This is incredible. All of it,” I choke out, after giving him a kiss that
showed him only the start of my gratitude.
“Only the best for you,” he agrees. Eyes so alive and buoyant they almost
don’t seem human. His love shines into me so proudly, it’s impossible to
miss.
It’s something I haven’t felt from him in weeks.
 My head arches looking up at him through pensive eyes. “How long have
you been planning this?” There’s no way this was a spur-of-the-moment
venture. It’s all too perfect, too well orchestrated.
“You mean wanting to bring you back here, or the date?” Tone more than
borderline flirtatious.
“As long as you don’t plan on adding another one of my cars to a watery
grave, I’d say the second,” I answer back as cheekily.
Cole’s mouth twitches. “Mmhmm, I have been known to overdo it a time
or two.”
That is the understatement of the century.
“I think what you’ve done is perfect.”
“Now,” he says, neither of us letting go yet. “I had a dinner prepared but
after that kiss, I’m suddenly hungry for something else.”
My flesh prickles. The iciness that once shielded his hardened eyes
melting into two heated pools of desire.
Gently he coaxes me closer than we already are. My heartbeat
jackhammering in the presence of being so close to his perfectly sculpted
face. Pure perfection, with all those sharp lines and defined edges. They are
so razor sharp you could cut the steel liquid that also ran through his veins.
An entire civilization could crumble at the way he glances down at me
through those thick eyelashes of his.
My eyelids stutter as his lids fall to my mouth, and that thing inside me
flips. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost your edge, Iceman,” I coax after what I
swear is an eternity of his heated gaze.
The air between us intermixes, becoming one as neither of us moves.
Cole’s mouth presses in at my comment but even that gesture is barely
visible.
 “You’re the only edge worth falling from.” The timbre of his words so
raw it takes everything in me not to completely fall apart.
Slowly—torturously, slow—does that confident mouth press back down
to mine. It carries more tenderness than I thought him capable of. Effortless
but aggressive, a lot like what our relationship has been.
Together we are everything that is perfectly imperfect, and that’s fine
with me.

OceanofPDF.com
Eleven

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

I PUSH BACK THE sleepiness from my eyes and rise from the bed after
feeling nothing but emptiness on the other side.
A momentary stab of betrayal swirls inside my gut after the night we’d
shared.
We’d had sex once inside the tent he’d set up before he’d carried me
inside and us doing it again a few more times in his bed.
Tonight was different though. The way he held me, while he made love
to me was different. His touch made me feel closer to him but also distant at
the same time. Our bodies moved, claiming one another the same as always
but it was more, removed… detached.
My hand rubs at my chest, that pang of disappointment knocking inside
again. I should be whole, tranquil even, but I’m not.
I’m… I don’t know what I am.
The chilled breeze from the open balcony doors draws my attention in
their direction. More goose bumps dust my skin as another batch bristles
inside.
 I hug the blanket tighter to my chest, climbing up and out with the intent
to close it. My footing is stalled in its tracks as soon as I see him.
Iceman truly evokes his name, hunched with his palms flattened to the
railing. The stars reflect off his glowing skin like a rare piece of marble.
We both should be exhausted. Spent. I know I’d been especially after
he’d been thoughtful enough to bring our dinner to the bed. Us eating inside
earlier after neither of us wanted to leave the comfiness of our cocoon.
At least that’s what I’d thought.
He’s only a few dozen feet away but seems so much farther, the longer he
continues not to move, stiff like porcelain.
That is until the muscles in his bare back stiffen. His fingers scrape as
they run along the edge, suddenly aware of my presence. I’m not sure how
he isn’t cold only in a pair of boxers, or how long he’s been out here.
Cole is as troubled as he is dangerous.
That knowledge not something you could see; you just sensed it. Like an
invisible current of electricity.
I know because I am the same.
We have an energy neither of us could explain but somehow it bonded us.
It was an uninvited presence when I’d come back. Now a comfort, a
welcome ease.
Reaching, my mouth parts in surprise as my fingers retract. The flesh on
his shoulder is more than warm, it’s boiling. Sweltering, while mine stays
chilled to the bone, even with the thickness of the cover.
Had he come out here to cool off? If so, it hasn’t worked yet.
“Couldn’t sleep?” I croak, sidestepping around him as he continues to
face the water.
 The thrumming pulse of the protruding veins in his arms are the only
thing telling me he’s alive and heard me. Pulsating they scatter. Branching
they wind up from his hands, past his arms and biceps, and to his
collarbone.
I reach for him again, but he shrugs me off and those nerves move
snakelike. I fight not to wince at the callousness.
“You know even then, when I saw you down there among all those
people I knew.” The words come from nothing. He’s talking about the party
he’d had here at the beginning of the school year. “I knew I wanted you,
knew you were different.”
He won’t look at me, but it doesn’t matter because he has all of my
attention. My heart thrums against the convex bones of my chest.
Different. Again, so many things have changed since then.
“Same with Finn,” Cole snorts but it’s out of his own disgust with
himself. Regardless my breath shallows out at the mention of his name. It’s
not much, a name, but inches can be miles. They are when it comes to this.
Regret washes over him. His conviction earnest.
“Deep down I always had this inkling, a morsel… the smallest sliver of
confidence that something was off.” Disbelief coats his every word. The rail
rattles as his fist slams down. “Guess it makes sense why Lorna always
insisted on so many playdates.” Saliva spews from his mouth like venom.
I reach for him again. This time he doesn’t push me away, letting my
hand caress his cheek. Touch as soft as my tone. “You can’t blame yourself.
It was out of your control. Wasn’t your secret to solve.”
“I should have known!” he challenges, so sure. Eyes ablaze with equal
parts anger and sadness.
“You couldn’t have,” I match right back.
 “My father did,” he snarls and my voice hitches as those hate-fueled
words tumble out. “He ruins everything, Rory. He ruined my mom… ruined
any hope I had at a somewhat normal existence, and now… he’s ruined
Finn too.”
“And if you’d known, you think things would have been different?
Easier?” If I sound resentful it’s because a part of me is. How can he not
understand?
To see, realize absolutely nothing would have changed. They still would
have grown close whether their DNA stated it, or otherwise.
How can Cole not figure out that he and Finn recognize each other in a
way he and I never could? I was forced back into this world while they
were raised to thrive inside its chaos.
“News flash, Iceman, nothing would have changed, and it shouldn’t now
either,” I urge. My eyes ping-pong back and forth trying to make him
understand.
Things happen the way they do for a reason. Bad things happen to good
people all the time. I am no exception. My pride no longer allows to believe
otherwise.
“Getting knocked down is part of life. Remember? You don’t give up
until you win.” My nostrils flare. “So win, Iceman.”
The corner of his mouth moves but I can’t tell if it’s a wince or an uplift.
“You’ll always love me, right? No matter what happens?”
“Of course,” I breathe. How can I not?
“Refuse to give up on me? Even if I am an ass most of the time?”
“I’ve come close… a few times,” I admit, and it earns me one more
wrinkle smoothing out on his forehead. “But I haven’t yet, have I?”
 Now his mouth does curve, in the one self-assured way only Cole can.
“No. You haven’t,” he agrees.
My head automatically falls into his touch when his hands find either
side of my cheeks.
“Even after everything I’ve put you through.” His eyes are now the ones
searching, moving back and forth. A molten-like consistency setting in
them as the moon reflects off the pupils.
Stunning.
“You’re telling me to win, but I already have. You, coming back was my
win.”
My throat locks, bobbing. “If you’ve already won, then why are you so
reluctant to talk to him?” Whispering only loud enough for him to hear.
I don’t think I could tell him any louder, even if I tried.
“How’d you move on from the pain?” Pausing, he sounds gutted.
I hadn’t expected this question.
“Accept it?” Misery colors, coating his every reflex. He’s not only talking
about what he’s done but everyone else who’s hurt me too. Wronged me.
“…I counted to five.”
“What?” he questions, perplexed.
“I count to five, hold it. Count again, release it, and”—I shrug— “that’s
it.”
“That’s it?” His mouth pinches at the center. I’ve flabbergasted him.
“That’s the secret?”
“It works for me.”
“Huh?” Cole says, leaning into me with a laugh. The sound the most
relaxed noise he’s made since we’ve been here.
I arch a skeptical brow. “Don’t believe me?”
 “No, no, I do.” Battling with his amusement still. “I just never thought it
could be that simple.”
“Anything is, if you’re willing to win.” Hugging him, I press my cheek to
his chest. “You and me, remember?”
Cole’s chest heaves, squeezing me back. “Silas earlier…when we were
on the phone… he wants to meet up.” He hesitates, the weighted tension
he’s been carrying coming back in full force. “With both of us. Both his…
sons.”
“And did you? Tell him you would?”
I can hear the surprised hitch in my own voice so there’s no way Iceman
can’t even if he doesn’t address it. I hadn’t been expecting that, that was the
reason for the call. It makes more sense now as to why he was more on
edge.
“Not yet.”
My head snaps up. “Why not?”
“I’m still counting to five.”
I shove at his chest, burying my face back to where it was before.
Amused and offended at his attempt at humor.
His heartbeat sounds like home, the same as it does every other time.
We will get through this. We had to.
My grip strengthens, better understanding dawning on why Cole refused
to look at his phone earlier. My ironclad hold around his waist the only
thing keeping me from shaking violently. All three of them are about to
meet, facing each other head-on.
This could go one of two ways.
Bad or worse.
OceanofPDF.com
Twelve

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

THE REST OF OUR break after that first night was more upbeat and less
exposing. The only thing being disclosed was our literal clothes. Agreeing,
we both ignored our phones the rest of the time and focused on enjoying
each other.
It’s called spring break but the only break I got was when Cole had to run
out and grab more condoms.
Most of our time was spent inside the house. Under the sheets, on the
kitchen island, in the shower, couch. You name it and Cole and I most likely
did some sort of sexual activity on it.
Hailey groans beside me and it pops my little lust bubble. The memory of
how Cole bent me over the bathroom counter and made me watch as he
fucked me from behind bursting as soon as her mouth opens.
It was the most erotic and exciting thing I had ever been a part of.
“God, you’re practically glowing,” she whines, taking a seat beside me.
I shrug, keeping my eyes locked down on the court where the boys
practice. My cheeks grow warm at her observation.
 Not that it matters because she bends forward getting right in my face.
Those big brown eyes of hers widen as that dimple pops out cheekily,
knowing.
“At least one of us had a good break,” she grumbles, leaning back and
pulling out her homework from her bag.
“Did you not enjoy going back home?” I ask, confused.
Hailey’s a coastal girl and grew up with an ocean breeze in her hair and
salt in her lungs. She was in for the shock of a lifetime when she and her
family moved here after she’d gotten into KPA.
The closest thing she has to the sea here is the lake and although it’s
large, it’s nothing compared to the sun and sand she’d grown up around.
She blows out a sigh, scribbling something in her notes. “It was alright…
I guess.”
“You guess? I thought you and your mom had this whole exciting trip
planned out?” She told me there was going to be shopping. Truckloads
worth of shopping is what she’d mentioned specifically.
Sounded like torture.
“We did.” She pauses, and then her voice lowers on the next part.
Mumbling something I’m positive I didn’t hear correctly.
“Come again?”
Her expression turns demure, even as her face stays studiously focused
on her notebook.
She says it again and now I’m the one leaning forward in her face. The
muscles in my cheeks pinch together, not believing I’d heard her right.
“Who?”
Her hand slams down on the notebook in annoyance. Eyes finding the
ceiling, but they get stuck there, staying upright. How interesting have those
beams suddenly become?
“Then Finn showed up!” She shrieks loud enough that a few of the
hellhounds’ teammates turn their heads up in our direction. The shrill high
pitch in her voice echoes off the walls.
She shoots them an annoyed look before dismissing them with a hand
wave, and they turn back around.
“Finn showed up?” I choke out a laugh. It’s more cough than laughter
though, not believing it. “My brother. Finn? Did what?”
Her focus centers back up to those metal beams lining the roof, scoffing.
“Look, it’s not that big of a deal, okay?”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
“Stop looking at me like that.”
My coy smile widens. “You know this is huge, right? Like huge, huge.”
“It is not.”
“Is so.”
She tries to hide her agitation, but it fails miserably. Matching my smile
with one of her own when I grab her shoulders and shake her excitedly.
“I can’t believe it! Tell me everything. This is awesome! So are you guys
like together now—”
“—Rory.”
“—Finn never said anything. Wait, why didn’t he say anything? I need to
talk to him.”
“Rory, stop. You’re overreacting.”
My fast-paced, one-sided banter comes to an abrupt halt. “Why wouldn’t
he say anything unless…” I suck in a sharp breath as my eyes narrow to
slits. “Unless he screwed something up.”
 The finger I had pointed into the air flattens into a fist. The blood in my
veins heating with my temper.
“That asshole, what did he do now?” I accuse.
“Rory. Stop!”
I hear what she’s saying but I don’t register the solace in her eyes,
because I’m already rising from my seat. I only manage a few inches before
Hailey’s yanking me back down.
“If he did something, I swear, I’ll shave off one of his eyebrows.”
I’m sitting but my eyes scan the room looking for him. Finn’s about to
get a piece of my mind when I get the chance to march my ass down there
and—
“Really, calm down. He wasn’t even there a full day before I told him to
go home.”
I practically give myself whiplash turning my head back in her direction
so quickly.
She downplays it, but I hear the disbelief that tinges her voice. Hailey
hadn’t expected him to come. He’d surprised her.
Shouldn’t she have been excited? That’s something Hailey would have
absolutely loved. Something’s not adding up.
“Wait, why did you send him home then? It sounds like he was trying to
be sweet?” Attentive, even.
I’m confused. I thought she liked him. They liked each other?
“Am I missing something?”
“I… it’s nothing. Forget it.” She finishes by sighing heavily out her nose.
Aggressively she starts to study her notebook again. Focus everywhere but
meeting my stare head-on.
Her eyelids start to shudder.
 The shock of it fills my lungs with air and I’m gripped with terrifying
panic. More secrets. She’s shutting down right before my eyes, closing
herself off.
My mouth flattens out to one solid line. I can tell she wants to say it,
whatever it is, but something is holding her back, disbelief maybe?
I’m trying to be patient, but like the edge of a blade, it too thins out
eventually.
“Just to clarify, whatever’s bothering you, it isn’t because of Finn?”
Hailey clicks her tongue and I swear I see moisture on the bottom of her
lids before she blinks it away. Flashing me the fakest smile she can manage.
“He was great. Honest.” Her voice sounds as rough as sandpaper.
“Perfect, actually. A true gentleman.”
“Okay? So, what’s the problem?”
A softness crosses her features like she’s remembering but then
something in her focus shifts and her bottom lip starts to tremble.
Yeah, something is definitely wrong.
Mentally I do a quick backtrack and think back to before the break and
she seemed as bubbly as ever. Nonstop talking about how excited she was
for this trip.
So much so, that a few times I even threatened to block her while I was at
work because of the excessive notifications. Her consistent texts were
starting to annoy the other people in the building. Constant pings, and
beeps, and vibrations.
Or at least she seemed excited. Was that all a farce too?
Now that I think back, she’d had that distant look in her gaze the same as
she does now. How hadn’t I picked up on it before? Had my own issues
outweighed my hindsight to see that she, too, is hurting from something.
 Hailey clears her throat. “So do you think Abram will show?” I don’t like
that she’s changing the topic, but I go with it. “I mean he has to, right?
They’ve come so far and worked so hard,” she emphasizes.
I chew on my bottom lip, hopeful that he might come to at least one
game, but the hope’s faint. He hasn’t bothered all season. I haven’t been
here before this year to know if he’d come in the past, but something tells
me that answer’s also a firm no.
“I don’t know. I talked to Abram earlier this morning about their
upcoming game before he left for work.” Trying to put out some ideas
without being too forthcoming. “He never gave me a definite answer.”
“It’s official, all men are oblivious idiots.”
I snort my agreeance. “He said something about not being sure if he was
welcome, you know, after everything.”
The uncertainty that he held in his gaze as he’d told me that made my
temple throb. He should come. They both can be stubborn, but come on?
He’s letting his fear of upsetting his son outweigh the pride I know he has
for him. The team’s come so far.
I’m proud of him, proud of them all. They’ve worked so hard to get this
far and they’re at the tip of victory’s tongue.
Hailey draws out a depressed exhale. “Well, hopefully he shows. If they
don’t win tomorrow, then the season’s over.”
She’s right. Tomorrow’s the last game before they go all the way. The
team needs all the support they can get.
Plus, I know Finn might not say it, but deep down he’d want Abram
there.
I lean my head down on her shoulder. “Yeah, let’s hope.”
OceanofPDF.com
Thirteen

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

ABRAM DOESN’T SHOW.

The boys won, but he wasn’t there to witness his son’s hard-earned
victory. Or how he dominated the court, not missing a single shot the entire
game.
Finn had been on fire.
Officially, KPA’s made it to the championships. They did it.
“Rory,” Eli says. Calling my name as he steps outside the Casper
mansion, sounding almost relieved.
Odd, but whatever.
“Want to grab something to eat?”
I shake my head, already bypassing him on the way to go inside.
“Thanks, but I grabbed some food earlier.”
Cole told me he’d meet me back here after I told him I was going to
spend some time with Hailey after the game.
She looked like she’d needed it. The fake smile she’d plastered on her
face the whole game a hard thing to imitate since the boys had done so well.
Usually, she’s full of energy. Jumping in her seat, yelling at refs—that only
happened once, and it was a bad call—but tonight it was forced.
Something’s wrong with her, but she won’t open up about it. She shook
me off or changed the topic anytime I tried to coax it out of her.
Usually, Hailey’s an open book so it’s strange and alarming that she’s
acting this way. I’ve never seen her like this before.
After about an hour, I gave up and told her I was going to head home.
Begrudgingly she agreed, saying she was tired anyway.
Another lie.
She’d had three sodas at the game. There’s no way she could be tired. If
anything, the girl should be bouncing off the walls or at least need to go to
the bathroom. She hasn’t, not even once, in case you’re wondering.
I decided to leave anyway.
It was strange though, as soon as I reached the door, she acted like she
didn’t want me to go. Didn’t want to be alone.
She looked drained but wired. Hyperactive but burned out. Restless but
spent. The girl was acting more cuckoo than puff—
“Cole asked me if I would,” Eli blurts out, “have you come with me and
grab some food.”
Wait, what?
My foot stops midstep, eyeing where his fingers now sit latched on to my
arm. He’s trying to stop me from going inside.
I curve an eyebrow down at where his hold is, and he lets go.
Reluctant, he clears his throat. Fingers lifting, as they wind their way
behind his neck, exhaling. The jerky, sporadic movement so unlike him.
Normally Eli’s the one who keeps it together.
 The gestures are what make me pause, or I’d already be storming my
way back into the house with Iceman getting a nice piece of my mind. How
many times do I need to tell him I can handle myself?
My eyes narrow, tension in my veins. “Why did he ask you to do that?”
“Because… because…”
I cross my arms over my chest and jut out my hip. Staring him down long
and hard the longer he chooses not to elaborate.
Stalling, that’s what he’s doing, and I want to know why.
“Eli, you have less than five seconds to tell me what’s going on or I’ll go
inside and find out for myself.”
It’s already shocking enough that Cole would ask Eli to do this after
everything, so whatever it is it must be important.
“I don’t need a guard dog, so unless you want to continue to play his
bitch, spit it out.”
He barks out a laugh that ends in a lingered sigh.
“Glad one of us found that funny,” I deadpan. Not sharing in his
enjoyment.
“Look I wouldn’t usually push you like this but…” He pauses, not
finishing. Another small wheeze of a sound concludes whatever it is he’s
trying to say.
The action puts me further on edge and my spine straightens more than it
already is.
I’m tempted to glance up and see if Finn’s light is on in his room but
force my eyes to stay focused on Eli instead.
“Finn and Cole are inside right now, and they need to talk… alone.”
My throat locks up and my lungs scream for the air I don’t give in to. I
can’t believe it. Is this literally happening? Finally.
 I want to scream my excitement but also my distress.
My throat bobs and a knot that had been stuck in my stomach for weeks
feels like it’s starting to unravel at the simple phrase.
Finn and Cole are going to talk.
I give in, looking up at Finn’s window. I can’t help it.
A light shines down from his curtains. Someone’s up there and more
relief swells. I can’t see any figures, but I trust what Eli’s said. If he’d met
me down here so they could chat, then I’d give them the space to do it.
This conversation is long overdue.
After a brief silence, I follow his gaze and extend my hand letting him
lead the way back to our cars. Besides, I’ve never been one to turn down a
milkshake and fries.
Eli’s shoulders visibly relax, extending his arm out for me to take. I hook
mine around his without hesitation.
“So how is Hailey doing?” he asks, tucking his chin down so we don’t
miss our step. “Still hating on the male population or did my face just get
lucky that one time?” Tone breezy, casual.
“Both,” I acknowledge, agreeing.
Eli’s head falls back on a relaxed chuckle, and I can’t help the similar one
that falls from my own mouth. It feels good, like really good.
In a weird way, this is what we needed too. Eli and I spending time
together, randomly, like we used to. That ease there, before everything
turned complicated, like old times.
“You know I still have the scar on my eyebrow as proof, right?”
“Point it out to Finn and I’m sure he’d be willing to give you a matching
one on the other side.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, and we both laugh again.
OceanofPDF.com
Fourteen

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

“BLACK OR GRAY?”
“Does it matter? They’re sweats and you sound like a chick,” Eli says,
scrunching his nose.
“I do not.”
“You so do.”
As I lay on the bed staring up at nothing, I decide to sit up and actually
think about participating in the conversation. For the first time in a while, it
doesn’t seem as strained. An ease that’s been missing coming back at Finn’s
idiocy.
Who would’ve thought a pair of sweatpants could do that? Not me.
“Well, some of us like variety. We don’t want to wear the same two
things all the time.”
“It’s called a uniform,” Eli defends. Determination rolling off his
shoulders. “Besides, the only thing you seemed to wear other than clothes
lately is that sour look, friend.”
“I’ve got a lot of stuff going on right now, alright?”
 “Know how you fix that?” He waves a finger between them and then him
and us. “You do what we’re doing right now. You talk,” Eli says leisurely
enough to make us seem like we’re idiots.
Finn’s face tightens. Shoving one leg through the gray pair with dramatic
force, never breaking eye contact with him. He’s mad and now so am I.
I zero my focus in on him. If I didn’t have so much self-control over my
facial expressions, I’m sure my mouth would be hanging out, gaping. Much
like Finn’s currently is.
Eli scoffs, unamused and unaffected by us both. His willfulness pissing
me off that much more.
I glance over at Finn, and he has the same locked-jaw expression. We’d
talk when we’re ready.
We aren’t.
A knock hits rattling something inside my bones. My ribs expand,
knowing neither of us has agreed yet to set up a time to meet with Silas. As
Eli had said, that would mean we’d have to be open with what this is first.
Accept what’s happened for what it is. It isn’t our fault, but we’d been the
ones left to deal with the fallout. Typical Silas move.
What’d Rory say she does when she’s stressed? Count to five?
It sounds ridiculous but she claims it helps her, and what do I have to
lose, so I try it. I count the numbers in my head and then spit the words out.
I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing this for Rory.
If it were up to me, I’d stomp it out like the bud of a flamed cigarette and
forget about it under the heel of my shoe. Letting what’s leftover of what is
left linger there forever. We can’t change it, so what’s there to discuss?
“You’re right.”
 Eli gapes while Finn openly sneers, but I continue ignoring both
reactions.
“We should discuss this.” I turn my head but don’t shift the weight on my
legs. “Eli, Rory should be home in a few minutes from Hailey’s. Keep her
occupied for at least an hour.”
I have to force my teeth not to scrape, grinding my molars as I push out
each fresh word from my mouth. I don’t like the idea—hate it actually—but
I’m shoving aside my own discomfort for her. Everything I do is for her.
Now Finn’s the one whose face is alert, eyes wide out of his own
bewilderment. Eli’s the one who’s studying me, gauging everything. Their
roles switching in an instant. Same as my mind, mine far more subtle.
Finn’s neck straightens. “You don’t get to make decisions for the both of
us, C.”
I keep my temper neutral. “Actually, I am.” I speak, “Now, Eli. Out!”
I could’ve punched Finn straight in the nose and he’d have felt less. His
jaw clamped so tightly shut it’s like it’s wired closed.
“Fine,” Eli agrees, heading out with a ghost of a smile dancing across his
lips.
That better be the only place they try and move to.
“Rory’s right, you do put the dick in dictator,” Finn seethes only after
Eli’s gone.
The corner of my mouth lifts the smallest fraction but that’s the only
indication I give him to show I’m amused.
“Calm down, I’m not talking about that.” Not directly anyway.
Finn stands there, both of us knowing what it is. I’d sent Eli away
because I didn’t want Rory knowing this. Don’t want to scare her when I
don’t know what it is yet to be worried about specifically. She already has
too many things she’s dealing with as is.
Her telling me she’s concerned something is up with Hailey as well.
Not having Rory here, phase one, now it’s time for phase two.
Shockingly, I did want to talk to Silas. Sure, I work with him but if he’s the
one who wants to schedule a meeting it must be something big and I want
to know what that is.
We’ve already lost our half of Hardin, so that means he has news, or he
needs the both of us for something. Silas is scheming and I need to know
what those intentions are.
“We need to figure this out.”
“Not today, we don’t,” Finn denies, not understanding.
Shaking my head side to side, I clear his refusals. “Not that. That’s…
whatever. We need to meet up with Silas, and we have to be on the same
page. It’ll throw him off.”
Finn’s head shoots back. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not
meeting with him and you.”
“We need to know what he’s up to.” I try my best to keep my patience,
even if he’s making that impossible as of current. I don’t like this any more
than he does.
At least his family still has its shares of Hardin, which I not so nicely or
subtly hint at. To which his response is to storm around me and shove the
wadded-up pair of black sweats back into his dresser. Slamming it shut with
dramatic gusto.
“I’m not going to be your scapegoat. Your family’s already fucked up
enough as is. I don’t want to be a part of it any more than I already am.”
 “Help me. Cooperate and be there,” I urge. “There’s more to this.” There
has to be. “We know how he is. Silas never would have come forward with
that information unless it benefited him somehow.”
“So?”
“So,” I clarify. “He’s convinced you managed to figure it out yourself
and took the Kellet portion of Hardin.”
“I didn’t,” he snarls.
“I know, but Silas is getting desperate. Hardin is his entire life, and I can
almost guarantee he thinks you had Abram’s help.”
“And this concerns me how?” Finn asks, sounding skeptical. He’s unsure
but I have his interest peaked and that’s all I need.
“Show up with me to the meeting, and we’ll pretend we’re good. It’ll
throw Silas off and maybe,”—if we’re lucky—“it’ll trip him up. Mess up
his game somehow. Then we can figure out what’s really going on.”
Finn’s mouth twists, not buying it. “Silas is perceptive. He’ll catch on.”
“He won’t,” I disagree.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because we already have an advantage.”
“How so?”
“My father doesn’t know it yet, but he’s been looking for this,” I say,
pulling out the item from my pocket and tossing it over to him.
Catching it, his eyes widen, looking down at the baton-shaped item. The
lines on his forehead crease the longer he tries to figure out what it is.
Honestly, I don’t know what it is either, but it has to be important. Why
else would I have found it left on my bed after my mother took her own
life? She wanted me to have it, and I need to find out why.
 Finn’s gaze flicks back over to mine, swallowing roughly. “You think it
could work? Us meeting up with him?”
“I think it’s a start.”
“What about Rory, by technicality, she’s now the only heir to the Casper
name.”
I nod, already knowing this which is another reason why I’d sent Eli to
go with Rory. I know Silas and I know what he’s capable of and if I can’t be
there to protect her, I need her to be with someone who I know will.
Without hesitation.
It fucking sucks that of all people it’s him, but I know Eli’d do anything
for her.
I don’t know if Silas would try to do something to Rory, but we can’t be
too cautious. Not with our father.
“Another reason to go. The sooner we find out the truth, the sooner we’ll
know she’ll be safe.” Rory thinks she knows this world, but she was only
brought into it. Finn and I grew up knowing its corruption and cruelty.
Finn’s mouth holds. Locking the longer those words hang there like a
balloon swelling as it takes up more space. The second his eyes steel over
and his hand fists around the item, I know I have him.
He doesn’t have to say the words but does anyway. “Fine. We do this for
Rory, but only her. Everything else is too fresh.”
My chest heaves, agreeing with a clipped nod.
Finn’s face stays pensive, but he does the same. “We stay calm, throw
him off, and never mention the other matter.”
“One last thing,” I add, checking the time on my phone. “If anyone asks,
we talked.”
“Of course.” A corrupted smirk slipped past his lips. “Brother.”
OceanofPDF.com
Fifteen

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

MY NOSE SCRUNCHES. THE small hole-in-the-wall diner has become

one of our regular hangouts.
“Is it just me or does this place seem,” I pause, looking for the right way
to phrase it. “More occupied than usual?”
The last of Eli’s burger loosely dangles from his fingers as his eyes
follow a similar pattern to my own. After a beat he turns back, taking a bite
unfazed.
“Do they bother you at school?”
My mouth flattens into a grim line. Knowing what he’s getting at without
having to say it. No, they don’t bother me there so it shouldn’t matter that it
seems like all of the students from KPA have started coming here as well.
Eli’s mouth curves into a smirk, shoving the last bite of food into his
mouth and I have the urge to slap it right off his face.
He may not care, but it’s nearly impossible to miss. The first time I’d
taken Hailey here there couldn’t have been more than a few handfuls of
people, including the staff.
 Tonight, it’s packed. KPA students are crammed in every corner like
sardines in a tin can.
“We also won tonight,” he notes. “People are out celebrating.”
My nose wrinkles. “But here?” I reiterate sounding gobsmacked.
Sighing, he tosses his napkin into his empty basket. Leaning back, he
sinks a shoulder into the booth. Gaze slicing over in my direction. “Is that a
problem?”
“No, I mean yes, I mean… I don’t think it is. It’s great for the business, I-
I’m not sure what I am trying to get at.” My is voice as muddled and as
confused as my reaction.
I did mean it though when I said I’m happy it’s helping out the diner.
There’s a lingering smell of a fresh coat of paint mixed with stale grease in
the air. And the barstools along the counter seem new or at least the cracks
in the leather are far less noticeable.
Updated, fresh. It’s great.
“It can be strange at first, I get it. Realizing you carry a real influence
over what others do.”
The weight I hadn’t noticed I’d been carrying shrinks at his reassurance.
The stiffness in my posture loosens a fraction.
“Thanks,” I breathe out.
This is why Eli is the best. He always just gets it.
He waves me off. “It’s fine. I’ve been in your shoes, remember? I wasn’t
always considered a hellhound. I’d been brought in after my family moved
here.”
Now I’m the one leaning back sucking on my tongue in reprieve, that’s
right. Eli didn’t grow up here, his family moved after his dad got the job to
work at Hardin.
 Whereas Finn and Cole knew nothing else, he and I in a way are
outsiders. That thought both intrigues and upsets me.
The troubling part is why Cole became friends with Eli to begin with. He
admitted he did it only to spite me.
Things change, people mostly. I like to think I understand that concept
better than others.
I lean forward, lowering my voice and Eli follows, boomeranging the
action.
“Does me wanting this place for myself make me self-centered?” This
diner reminded me so much of Alma’s when I first came back that a larger
part than I’d admit wants it to stay my small treasure.
Another place to escape from all the grandness of everything else. This
place is too good for the students here, they almost don’t deserve the
wholeness.
“Self-centered,” Madison mocks, coming from nothing as her hand slams
down between us. Rattling the items on our table from the force. “Rory,
you’ve been nothing but greedy since you showed up.”
I jump back, searing her with my gaze as we draw back apart. Not
backing down, she does the opposite, getting right in my face. Putting all
her weight on that one arm.
“Newsflash, the world doesn’t revolve around you, and you’re conflicted
back-and-forth tendencies.”
Back-and-forth tendencies? What does that mean?
I side-eye Eli looking for clarification if he understands any better, but
his whole attention is aimed towards Madison. The daggers he’s shooting
her make it look like he wants to pick up his unused silverware and shove it
down her throat.
 The smile on my face turns as empty as her ability to read a room.
“Wow, Madison, so happy you invited yourself over. Only it’s already
dark outside and dealing with one ball of fired mass during the day is
enough.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?” Her face twists, provoking.
“No, it was supposed to make you realize you weren’t invited to the
conversation, and interrupting is rude.”
Madison isn’t offended in the slightest. Her attention focused and
decided on me. She isn’t moving.
I can only hear Eli snort because he’s blocked. The length of her hair
fanning as it dangles between her arms like a curtain between us.
An unusual pinch sets in the corners of her eyes the longer she keeps her
attention on me. There’s something strange about it but I don’t understand
what or why that is.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say it’s jealousy. My mind must be off though,
thrown through the mess of Finn and Cole’s stuff that it’s making me
delirious.
Speaking of… “Eli, I’m ready to leave.”
“Alright,” he acknowledges, rising from his spot. “I think we’ve wasted
enough time.”
A swirl of new emotions flashes across Madison’s eyes this time. It
almost resembles hurt, but then she blinks and it’s gone. Eli had been
talking to me, but somehow the comment wasn’t meant for me.
Madison’s frown deepens but she refuses to move her head in the other
direction. Not even after Eli leads us both out of the restaurant does she
look directly at him. Stuck to that spot at our table like she’s frozen.
 It wasn’t until later that night, while I lay awake tucked into Cole’s side, I
realized how quiet Eli had been on the drive home. A stiffness settled in the
air that wasn’t there before Madison showed.

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Sixteen

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

IF HATE WAS A sin, my father would have found a way to weasel his way
out of hellfire in a three-piece suit and a permanent scowl.
In my entire life, I could count on a single hand the number of times I’d
seen him crack a smile. Every single time it was twisted and limp. But then
again, if you don’t come prepared, bedrock is hard to break when you have
a pick and not a sledgehammer.
Life’s brutal like that.
Never expect anything, especially from Silas Kellet. If you do, it’s a
complete waste of your time or a trap. Being fair is for the mediocre.
Something he’d gladly remind anyone of right before he mangled you to
a nice, flushed pulp.
“Okay, so you remember the plan?”
Never assume. Plan for everything. That’s the only motto that matters
when it comes to surviving this life.
Finn rolls his neck and wiggles out his shoulders before they stiffen back
in place. He’s wired, but so am I.
 We both know the plan. Be swift, but indirect. We’re already going into
this with our guards up, but Silas will expect that, so it’s not unreasonable.
Us pretending to be unfazed by the news that we’re brothers a small
leverage.
One I plan on using to my every advantage.
“Why hasn’t he shown yet?” Finn mumbles out the side of his mouth like
someone might overhear.
“We’re early,” I remind him, spotting in my peripherals how his knee
hasn’t stopped bouncing since we arrived.
We should be at school right now, but we came here instead. We figured
this was the best time since we needed the extra practice after school let out.
Also, I’m not sure Finn could handle a whole day’s worth of school and
then come here afterward. Too much time for his mind to fester, more so
than it already has.
“What exactly are we trying to get out of him?”
“Anything.”
“Right,” Finn says, tone bitterly cold.
Both our focuses stay ahead. The world outside the windows of Silas’s
office has no idea what’s going on. Living their lives unknowing of
anything different. While mine is constantly on the move.
Never stand still, altering as much as it is turning.
“Hello, boys.” Silas’s voice booms as he rounds his desk. Finding his
own seat opposite us. Face slick as ever.
I notice how Finn’s hands grip the arms of the chair. The hold most likely
the only thing keeping him from jumping right across the desk. The tapping
of his knee like a sledgehammer to the ground now.
 Whereas Silas keeps his face jaded, Finn’s is the complete opposite.
Visibly wearing his every emotion.
“I would like to keep this brief,” Silas starts. “Seeing as I have work to
do, and you both have school to get to.”
I snort, and Silas’s eyes crinkle a minuscule amount catching the sound
like I intended him to. Since when has the man ever cared about anything
other than himself?
Never, is the answer.
This, whatever it is, is a ploy. Make it seem like our time is limited,
adding more pressure to an already tense situation. It’s used to make the
consumer crack and give in more easily. It’s a business tactic, but for him,
it’s mostly become a habit.
One that Finn is giving in to freely. I nudge my thigh to his, shooting
over a stern look. He needs to cool it. He’s being too obvious in his
despisal. Silas has a gift for sniffing out weaknesses, but he doesn’t need it
with how easy Finn’s making it.
The foot tapping slows, but his tight-lipped frown deepens. Showing me
his fake enjoyment, like I approve of this any more than he does.
So far, our plan to go in as a solid unit has gone to crap. No thanks to
Finn and his lack of willingness to calm the fuck down and check himself.
“As I said, I planned on keeping this brief.” Silas cranes his neck toward
Finn. “How did you manage to take the shares from my half of the
company?”
I could snort again, and so I do. He’d said my instead of ours but is
anyone legitimately surprised? Honest, I’ll wait for the show of hands.
“Your age is making you go delusional, old man.” I say stepping in
before Finn gets a chance to respond. “You think either of us had anything
to do with this? Knew we shared the same sperm donation?” I hiss.
Slowly, Silas pulls attention away from him and leans back in his chair
all smug-like. I am now taking the brunt of the misfortune, but it’s not
anything I’m not used to. The inferno of resentment goes both ways.
“No one outside our families has access to make such changes.”
“And you not keeping a tighter handle on our half of this company is our
fault how?” I rebut calmly.
The longer the air suffocates between us, the more the tension builds.
The strain that’s starting to show along Silas’s jawline is laughable. The
mockery of my grin spiritless.
My original plan of us coming in as a solid front may be backfiring but
the fact that we aren’t willing to give anything away about Hardin working
in a similar favor. It also helps that we’re as clueless as Silas is in the
matter.
He doesn’t need to know that though, and I can tell he doesn’t believe
me. He never has with anything else so why start now?
We’re using him as much as he is us. Like understands like.
“How long?”
“What?” Silas’s eyes are charged as they move back over in Finn’s
direction. Him speaking up for the first time since he’s arrived.
“How long have you known I was your kid?” Finn’s tone is unforgiving.
Fatigue claws its way up my neck the longer Silas’s posture stays
foreboding. Loaded and lethal even in his inclined state.
His lip twitches, loving every second of Finn’s further building
callousness.
This is not the agenda we’d come in with, but I go with it. Something
telling me Finn needs this answered more than anything else.
 “Answer him,” I demand when I spot the hellfire burning from Finn’s
eyes. “Be a half-decent human being for once and give him this one thing.”
The shallow tilt of Silas’s head is as hideous, as it is alarming. It makes
my chest thunder while he seems completely calm. I can only imagine what
Finn’s is like beside me.
“Roughly around the time Lorna found out she was pregnant,” he
confesses.
“That doesn’t make sense,” Finn barks. “If she knew the truth, how did
Abram become involved in all this?”
Silas’s eyes brighten in his fascination. “I can’t be certain what your
mother did at that time. Although she’d been pretty distraught after I told
her I wasn’t leaving my wife for her. Why would I when I already had a son
on the way?”
“You’re disgusting,” I fume, furious.
“And you’re lucky I found out you were a boy. Otherwise, things might
have been very different,” Silas says, teeth glinting.
My chin levels out as I bite back my sneer, because of course, that’s all
Silas Kellet would care about, right? Having an heir. Making sure he had
someone to fill his shoes.
Of course, he needed a boy, because in his mind females were only good
for a set of limited things. Producing his child close to the top of that list.
The right child.
Finn shoots me a fleeting glare and I know he’s done. That’s not saying a
lot though since he’s been done the moment he found out the truth that
night at his house.
“See how effortlessly I shared the truth,” Silas croons, sounding almost
elated. It’s disgusting. “I would appreciate the same courtesy. Tell me how
you did it, or how Abram convinced you.”
A muscle in Finn’s eye jumps, while mine stays resolute between them.
“He didn’t do anything,” Finn gyrates, mocking. “Cole’s right. Being this
high up every day must have thinned out the air in your brain enough to
make you start to go senile.”
In spite of everything, Finn still chooses to defend Abram and it’s almost
humbling. I doubt he even realizes he’s done it, his anger too focused on
Silas right now.
“Someone knows what’s going on,” Silas beseeches, unfazed by the
discredit. The only thing he’s ever cared about ripped away from him.
Those months he’d had me going through old documents and receipts,
not for nothing. He’d been catching on then, only he was too late. Hardin
taken right from under his nose before he could stop it.
“Seems like you’re not the only one who knows how to keep a secret
then.”
Silas doesn’t miss the chance to give Finn his glare of disapproval at the
boldness of his comment. The vibrancy in his hazel eyes match the same
shade as Finn’s, before they narrow to slits.
An awkwardness hangs in the air but it’s not because of us anymore. It’s
Silas and his undecidedness. He doesn’t know what to make of Finn’s
comment, but that’s alright with me.
The longer and the more we can throw him off the more likely he’ll be
able to screw up down the road.
I came here today hoping to get something, knowing it was a long shot.
Finn ended up getting more answers than I did, but that’s alright. His being
here was the added item I needed.
 See, my father has always despised me, but now he has two of us
working against him. Plus, throw in the Hardin thing and it won’t be long
before he completely loses it. He’s already on the verge.
Silas may barricade himself off, but the cracks are starting to show. We
just have to keep pushing.

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Seventeen

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

I BOUNCE ON THE balls of my toes. They’re light for once.

The rubber on my Chucks always felt heavy on my feet when I ran but
these, these are almost weightless. Jumping, I bring my knees to my chest,
feeling buoyant. The soles on the bottom are a lighter rubber than I’m used
to.
It’s different but I don’t think I’ll mind. These will make the ease of
running more smooth, fast.
These new shoes sitting atop my bed late last night after I got home. I’d
spent my entire Saturday at Hailey’s and am no closer than before to
figuring out what’s bothering her. The girl’s being reclusive.
Still, we had fun in spite of whatever's bothering her. Ordering takeout,
gorging ourselves on candy and watching movie after movie until our eyes
hurt from staring at the screen.
I thought we were pampering ourselves, but she only shrugged it off and
called it a macaroni day.
 The name I hadn’t originally been sold on, thinking it was strange until I
embraced it. The same way Hailey had when she’d opened her front door.
Armfuls of snacks toppling over from her overstuffed hold.
The nickname macaroni day fitting. Especially after I left her house all
gooey and my stomach filled with cheese.
It’s early but I’m already up. Cole hadn’t slept over last night, and the
bed was empty without him. Maybe that’s why I’m up at the first light?
Either way, it doesn’t matter because I’m awake, and I have energy. Plus,
a run wouldn’t kill me after all the sugar and carbs I willingly ingested
yesterday.
I regret nothing, but my stomach would probably fight me on that
analogy.
After inviting myself into Finn’s room and making my way over to his
bed, I’m shocked to find that it’s empty. Weird.
He’d definitely been home because the music had been nonstop on this
side of the hall late into the night. As per norm when he’s upset about
something.
Padding my way down the stairs, I chance a glance in the kitchen but
come up empty again. Where could he be? His room, the kitchen, or the
court outside his favorite places on the property. The lights aren’t on outside
in the back, so I know he’s not at the last place.
He had to have been the one to give me these shoes. I knew as soon as I
saw them what they were a reminder of. Our deal. The one I’d broken by
not coming to their game. And in exchange for showing up, I got to run
alone.
My plan was to catch him off guard. Waking him up and making him
regret holding up his half. It’s early and if I know one thing about Finn, he
hates being woken up if he doesn’t have to.
This would mean I’d have to know where he is though. Something I’m
currently at a loss for.
Leaving the front door, I nearly jump out of my skin seeing the oversized
outline beside me.
My chest tightens, ribs squeezing to my organs until I realize that bulky
exterior could only belong to one person.
I snap, my open mouth shut, iciness now filling my once constricted
airways.
“Morning, lil sis.”
“Are you trying to put me in an early grave, Finn? Because you’ve done
a great first start.”
His lip curves up the more my frown deepens.
“Ah come on. Don’t be so jumpy.” He says tucking me under his arm and
nudging the top of my head with his fisted one.
“Why are you out here?” I question, eyeing him as we climb down the
front steps and refix my ponytail.
He’s in too good of a mood and I suddenly don’t trust it. It is the
complete and total opposite of this hostile, weepy person he’s been
embodying for weeks.
Letting go, he reaches forward, stretching out his arms. Rotating, they go
to his back, doing the same. “Nice shoes,” he comments, continuing his
movements.
I look down briefly. “…Thanks?”
He raises his hand to his forehead, like when you do to block the sun
from your eyes. Only it’s dark, and the only thing awake right now is the
pair of us.
 Him far too perky this early.
I’m about to ask him who he is and what he’s done with my brother, but
he speaks up before I can.
“Soooo, are we going for a short sprint, or are you in the mood for a few
miles? Personally, I could go for the distance.”
I cock an even more confused eye. “Are you aware of what time it is?”
“Yeah, Rory, I know what time it is.”
“Day? It’s Sunday.”
“Are you aware that you broke our deal?” he imposes, and the comment
sobers me.
I was supposed to be the one to surprise him, not the other way around.
He was supposed to be in his bed. The fresh air my idea. Plus, it’d be good
for him, but it seems he’s already beat me to the punch line.
“You coming or not? Because as of now, you’re losing,” he points out,
turning around from where he’d taken off, now jogging backward. “Time to
pay up, lil sis.”
Oh.
Oh!
Well, fine. If Finn wants to make this a race, then we’ll race.
My mouth twists into a challenging smirk. “I’m letting you have a head
start,” I holler. “You’re gonna need every advantage you can get,”
mumbling that last part more for myself than him. So sure he’s about to be
outrun.
“Mmhmm, I don’t think so, because from my vantage point I’m already
winning.”
“Not for long!” I spitfire back, roused and ready to go.
Not. For. Long. Brother.
 “Still winning,” he yells further now. “I thought the new shoes might
give you a fair shot, but I guess you’re proving me wrong.” Tone goading,
coaxing.
I suck on my teeth, swallowing down whatever mood swing this is for
Finn and decide to just appreciate that he’s currently doing something other
than being pissed off.
Obviously, he’d gotten me these new shoes for a purpose, and that
purpose is still up for debate.
My crooked smile reaches my cheekbones as my toes curl in excitement.
Challenge accepted.
Bouncing, my feet take off, already ready, knowing the drill. Unfortunate
for Finn because he’s about to be outmatched.

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Eighteen

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 Rory

THE RUN IS EXACTLY what I needed. Plus, factor in me making Finn eat
his words for the majority of the time, I’d call it mostly successful. My
endorphins were on fire by the time we'd slowed to a jog.
My muscles relaxed as we eased into a comfortable rhythm. That’s how it
is after every time my feet hit the ground. Everything else slips away.
I’d let him take the lead after he’d mentioned a path I’d never been down
before. The spot wasn’t that far from the main house and I’m not sure how I
missed it in the past. An ornate pavilion buried in the woods of the Casper
mansion.
We took our break there. Keeping a decent time before turning around
and heading straight back to the house.
Finn may or may not have also nudged the back of my heel while I was
hunched over trying to catch my breath. To which I fairly responded by
kicking out his foot after the backyard came into view.
The miles Finn and I put in weren’t easy, but they’d been earned, that’s
for sure.
 I’m a sweaty mess and in much need of a shower. Inside my room, I’m
about to head to the bathroom when I remember I still have Finn’s one
earbud in. He’d let me borrow the other half of his pair after complaining
my running was too loud.
We’d been in the woods running over limbs and dead leaves, not
pavement. Of course, it was loud.
Coincidentally though, it was right after I’d asked him what was going on
with him and Hailey that he’d tossed it. That and the stiff grunt the only
other response I got.
Yay for communication.
Overall, though, I gathered running with someone isn’t as bad as I
expected it to be. Finn’s fast and we kept a good pace with the other. Which
is great because I didn’t feel weighed down, trying to make sure he could
keep up.
All those years of him running up and down the court working in my
favor.
Letting myself into his room, same as I had earlier, I hear the water
running from behind his closed bathroom door. We had similar ideas, only
music also blasts from the other side of his.
My intention had been to drop off the earbud and leave. And I would
have done just that had I not spotted the printed email on his desk.
“What are you doing?”
I jump, pulling the finger from my mouth, from where I’d been nibbling
on my nail. In my distraction, I must have lost track of time. Reading and
rereading the paper, my chest swelling with each new pass.
Finn did this? All on his own?
“Why are you going through my stuff, Rory?”
 The excitement I’d felt clenching inside my gut hearing the venom in
Finn’s tone. Low but threatening, that’s what it is.
I blink and blink again, but the words never change. Finn had done it. I
knew he was good… but this? This is something else entirely.
“Finn,” I say, looking up at him in awe. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
My reaction the complete opposite to his rigid shoulders and cagey,
heated gaze.
“I’m going to ask you one more time, why are you going through my
shit?” His voice slow, patronizing.
Is he more angry or disappointed? I can’t tell. Either way, he’s acting like
a complete jerk right now, and I’m not about it.
Shoving the paper into his chest, I defend myself. “I didn’t go through
anything. You’re the one who left it sitting on top of your desk, out in the
open. All I was trying to do was drop off your earpiece.”
His eyes briefly shift down at where the bud sits and then back to me. I
stare him down unmoving because clearly, I’m not the one who has
anything to hide.
Finn’s fingers flex in the same motion as his lashes. A small hint of regret
flashing in them. As they should.
And we’d had such a good morning on our run. Ruined.
“This is huge,” I say, trying to understand why he isn’t more excited.
This is a dream come true for him.
“You’re making it out to be more than it is,” he asserts. Trying to
downplay it for some reason that I’m still confused about. “Besides,” he
snorts, his upper lip twitching in the same motion. “I’m not taking it, so it
doesn’t matter.”
 I take a step, but he only shoves past, wadding up the paper and throwing
it in the small garbage can beside the desk.
Taking it out, I uncrumple it. “Why not? Finn, this is an offer for a
scholarship. You were offered a full ride for basketball. How can you not
take it?” Disbelief tinges, cloaking my every word.
Harsh lines form around his mouth and his top lip twitches again. It’s
more subtle this time but I still notice it. His gaze ironclad on the piece of
paper in my hand, before his head sharply turns toward the ground.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I ask, taking a seat beside him on the
bed’s edge.
He doesn’t answer right away. Considering that for about half a second
before he tuts, clicking his tongue and dismissing me. Shoving his other
foot into his shoe and rising from his spot.
“I told you; it doesn’t matter. I can’t take it.”
My eyes track him around the room as he digs through discarded clothes
on the floor. Coming up empty every time for what he’s in search of. A shirt
no doubt since he’d thankfully come out of his bathroom with shorts
already on.
My jaw sets the longer I watch. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Drop it, Rory,” he growls. Growing more agitated the longer he
continues to come up empty.
“So, it’s a won’t then,” I decide for him, disappointed. “Got it.”
He sighs, tossing down another handful. “It’s a yes, no… both? I don’t
know, like I said it doesn’t matter, I’m not taking it.”
That’s what I’m having trouble comprehending. Why wouldn’t he take it?
Basketball’s his passion.
 Sure, coming up with the money to go to college has never been the issue
for him, but it’s the principle. Someone out there—this school—thinks he’s
good enough. They want him on their team next year.
How does he not understand what an amazing opportunity this is? It says
you’re good enough. Come work with us, keep going. We want you.
Finn releases a ragged breath, finding the basketball under his bed and
my stomach flips. The look on his face artificial when he pops back up,
while mine is of concern.
“But why?” I push again, needing to know the truth.
Finn doesn’t answer right away, lips pursed tight together in thought. The
guilt begins to eat away at me the longer he takes to respond.
“I can’t,” staring into nothing as he whispers that out. The small sentence
weighing him down like a boulder on his back.
“You can,” I say, turning the paper in his direction, I rise from my spot.
“This paper says exactly that.”
His neck cranes, blinking as he comes back to, bypassing the paper, his
focus is on me instead. What I’ve said. Hearing that I only want the best for
him. Sincerity my companion.
“Coach told me he thought he might have some scouts that might be
interested. He sent them some tapes, and at the last game one of them
actually showed.”
“Finn, you were on fire at that game,” I remind him.
His mouth hooks to one side, grin coy at the compliment before it’s gone
completely. Never is Finn shy, but suddenly he seems less self-assured.
My throat dries seeing the shadow cast over his irises.
“I got the email this morning,” Finn’s statement littered with his own
feeling of disbelief.
 Guess that explains why he’d been up.
“You should be so proud of yourself,” I say, handing the paper back over
to him. He takes it, tucking the ball under his other arm. “I’m proud of
you.”
He chokes out a laugh, but it’s halfhearted. His excitement and reprieve
intermix. The look however doesn’t last long before he’s clearing his throat
and his entire posture smooths back out. Stiff and unmovable.
“I don’t have a choice, remember? Hardin’s my legacy, not basketball.”
My insides revolt at the words. His voice so robotic, so un-Finn-like.
The embers, that fire he always has any time the topic of this sport came
up slowly dying, like his dream. Right before my eyes and it’s gut
wrenching.
A weight settles around the room, the paper falls the same as any grasp
he ever had on going for it. The acceptance letter lands with a soft thud on
his mattress.
“This was always a fantasy, Hardin is reality,” he muses
unsympathetically. Eyes hard now.
My mouth parts, but then it’s withering back closed. His belief rubs my
lungs raw. He’s left but I already know where he’s headed. His refuge, the
only place that matters.
The court.
I yank at the paper, charging from his room and over to mine. If he’s not
willing to try, then I will for him. Doesn’t he know the heavier the crown,
the higher you hold your head?
We’re hellhounds, we don’t give in. We don’t give up.

OceanofPDF.com
Nineteen

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

MY BODY’S AS HEAVY as my resolve. The elevator lifts, carrying me up

to the top floor of Hardin. If Finn doesn’t think it’s possible then I was
about to meet with the one person who could change his mind.
Finn may not be up for confronting Abram right now, but that’s one thing
that’s never been a problem for me.
I could’ve waited until tomorrow after school when I came for work, but
I’m too fired up right now to care. Besides, he should be grateful I had a
small amount of time to compose myself on the drive over.
Finding his home office empty, working in his favor or I’d most likely
have blown up and been told to come back once I calmed down. Again.
Finn deserved some happiness and this morning on our run I got a
glimmer, a speck. Now I want back the full-blown, in-your-face, obnoxious
ray of sunshine that he is.
Besides, the longer this elevator takes, the more I grasp that this
environment isn’t for Finn. This place has sharp boundaries and pointed
lines. His personality is too lighthearted and carefree for such a strict
domain. It’s like trying to combine water and gasoline, they just don’t work.
My tactics are quickly thwarted. A pair of familiar arms snaking around
my waist and spinning me as soon as I step off. Those ever-present
butterflies reemerge as his hands find my back.
“Whoa there, Princess,” Cole chuckles, pulling back to examine more of
my face. “You look like you’re on a mission of sabotage.”
Basically.
The fire brewing in my veins disintegrates another smaller bit. Two pools
of liquid blue stare down at me.
“Let me go,” I warn, not expecting him to listen. “I need to see Abram.”
“Abram? Why do you need to see him?”
After a brief silence, his mouth flattens to his teeth, eyes widening in
annoyance.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” he says with a sigh, staring past
me. He already knows the answer.
Gulping, I weigh my next set of words. I want to tell him, I do, it’s just…
not my place to share. The hurt is visible on his face, but I don’t relent. I
can’t, not yet.
“Is he in?”
“Should be,” he says but it’s clipped. Stressed?
With eyes carrying less excitement than before, he lets me step out. Only
it isn’t the hurt that has me turning back but a wavering feeling instead.
What is it? I silently question him over my shoulder.
He shakes his head as his brows thunder, watching my retreating form.
His jaw tightens even as he scratches it, the closer I come to the door and
the farther I move from him.
 “Fuck it,” I hear and then he’s right beside me again. “If you don’t want
to tell me why, fine. But I’m going in there with you.”
“What? Why?” I splutter.
His lips smash more together, and my nerves skyrocket.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?”
He snorts, and it’s as arrogant as you’d expect it to be coming from
Iceman. “I believe I asked you the same question.” He eyes me quizzingly.
“Mine isn’t mine to share.” Giving him something, even if it’s nothing.
Something flashes across his face then, but whatever it is he shakes it off.
“Okay let’s pretend that’s helpful.” His voice is like a razor edge.
We’re almost to his office now. The door’s closed so I can’t see anything
other than the misty fog of the glass. But the closer we get the more my
nerves start to sizzle.
That inferno inside me flaring back up like a match to a box, and I have
no idea why. My spine stiffens, ready for whatever.
Is this why Cole met me at the elevator? Had he been trying to stop me?
My gut screams telling me I’m right. I hadn’t told him I’d be coming in
today. Mostly because this visit wasn’t planned, so it’s got to be
coincidental he spotted me.
That’s what I convince myself is the truth at least.
My heart beats rapidly, but my mind is set. Determined to face
whatever’s on the other side.
Cole’s footsteps pound twice as loud as mine, but he’s right here. Beside
me, as he agreed he would be. Instead of fighting, he chose to let me lead.
The thought equally makes my head spin and my insides pound faster.
Flinging it open, the glass rattles, bouncing off the wall and Abram’s eyes
fly my way, not expecting my intrusion.
 The woman sitting in the chair across from his desk is slower to
reciprocate. Her body coils like a snake as she shifts. Far less stunned and
more bored.
Lorna.
What’s she doing here?
My teeth grit automatically. The small movement causes Cole’s posture
to widen further. His breath slow but controlled. Even.
I don’t need to turn my head to know he’s tracking her every move
because I’m doing the same. The protective edge he carries sweeping his
every pore.
The confusion on my face must overshadow my shock. Lorna’s smile
carries a fake sweetness. “Ah, what a pleasant interruption.”
Cole takes a half step closer at the comment and it somehow causes her
face to turn more callous. Victorious, when she has no right.
“So happy you two seemed to reconcile.” Lorna sounds almost bitter, and
it makes me eye her with a fresh batch of hatred.
“Rory, Cole, you should both go,” Abram says, cutting in.
I’m not moving until I know what this is about. I had my own agenda
coming here and if I could, I’d bury my shoes in the floor. I can’t, so I lock
my knees instead.
I’m not going anywhere, and now knowing who’s in here, I know Cole
won’t leave unless I do. So, it looks like they’re stuck with the pair of us.
“No, Abram,” Lorna starts, not turning her head back toward him.
Waving him off with a backward gesture. “It’s a good thing Rory’s here.
There’ve been things we’ve needed to clear up.”
I’m not sure how she does it, but her eyes turn more ruthless and cold the
longer she speaks. Dead is the sound, like her insides.
 A sickness settles over me, and I have to force my hands to stay at my
sides and not find my stomach. How can she make even speaking sound so
wrong, dirty?
A deadly glint shines from Cole’s eyes now and it makes my chest surge.
His hands are locked firmly, gripping the small of my back since we first
stepped inside.
At first, I’d thought it was to keep me in place, but now I’m curious if it’s
to root himself instead. His anger is under control, barely.
“The only thing needing cleared is your presence from this property,”
Cole speaks. Those usually light eyes filled with danger.
Like a cobra, Lorna slowly rises from her chair, never taking her eyes off
us and I want to throw up. If words are venom, then her mouth is the
poison.
“Why should I leave?” Not an ounce of reluctance in her tone. “This is
my husband’s office, and one day it will be my son’s as well.”
Like any true villain she points out the obvious, building us up before
going in for the kill.
Clasping her hands together at her waist, she adds, “I’m not going
anywhere.” She sounds so sure of herself.
Cole’s hold on the back of my shirt tightens at her refusal. The move is a
power play on her part. She’s trying to intimidate us, and I know if the
situation called for it, Iceman would do what he thought was best.
Without hesitation, he’d take back control and yank and we’d be out as
quickly as we arrived. Simple as that.
For now, he’s still allowing me to make the call. Giving me control, and I
appreciate it because I know how difficult this is for him.
 “If anyone should leave, it should be Rory, she should never have had a
position inside this company.” Her lip curls. “Even in the mail room.”
Fresh shivers rack through me.
Abram rises from his desk at this comment. “My daughter is not going
anywhere!” he defends at Lorna’s back.
Her posture whips around. Almost lazily so, but the actions jerky like
she’s trying to control her annoyance too. “Of course, you’d take her side…
you always did prefer to side with the weak.” Her expression nothing but
sinister.
“Rory never had anything to do with this. And don’t think I don’t know
what you’re trying to insinuate, Lorna, because it won’t work. You no
longer have anything over me.”
Abram’s temper overflows, glare lethal.
“You’ve taken years from my life, and I want the rest back,” he fumes,
stone faced. “I learned long ago not to underestimate you and your
conniving ways. You knew exactly what you were walking into today when
I asked you here. I want a divorce.”
Lorna visibly winces, and it’s like her outrage is rippling off her.
“Your daughter has everything to do with this,” she fires back, trembling.
“She keeps getting in my way. Same as everyone else.”
The whites of her eyes glow, her focus back on me. My chest squeezes,
scorched by the intensity. My head tells me to look away, but I can’t. Not
after what she’s admitted. My mind spirals, telling me there’s more.
So much more.
Her expression is long past murderous as Cole takes a protective step.
Half shielding me, but it doesn’t matter. He might as well be invisible;
Lorna only has eyes for me.
 “This is all your fault,” she screams hysterically. “You shouldn’t have
come back. I got rid of you once and then again. The third time will be a
breeze.”
My skin prickles in awareness. The room’s atmosphere drops about
twenty degrees in a matter of seconds as she seethes, panting.
What does she mean she got rid of me not once but twice?
Lorna’s nearly foaming at the mouth as I take a hesitant step forward. I
can feel Cole’s disapproval at my back, but I overlook it.
“What are you saying?” I ask slowly, cautiously. The sound more like a
whisper, or maybe that’s only how I hear it. The ringing in my ears distorts
everything else as my blood starts to thicken.
Not that any of it matters, the room is deathly still, while the noise in my
head whooshes growing louder.
“What did you do?” someone asks but I honestly couldn’t tell you if it
was Abram or Cole. Possibly both? Anything past the rushing inside is a
dull comparison to everything else.
Lorna doesn’t say anything right away and my heart pounds faster with
anticipation. The sneer on her face far too telling.
I want to swallow but it seems awkward to do anything besides the bare
minimum. My head spins the more the sound grows. My stomach is a tight
thicket of knots.
Screaming, my brain tells me to breathe, but I know if I tried, I’d most
likely swallow my own tongue, so I don’t listen to that either.
Nothing else matters, my attention fixated on Lorna.
The longer she holds my concentration, the more my head has time to
focus. Normally a good thing, not so much as of current. It’s then that I start
to pick out the details.
 Her mouth is twisted like I’m a bad smell, nose new and surgically
enhanced, eyes thickly coated in a layer of mascara… those eyes…
The truth sitting here, ticking like a clock to a bomb.
Tick.
Nothing.
Tick.
Nothing.
Her mouth lifts, catching it at the same time I do. I’d say her smile turns
more ugly, but it’d never been nice before. Permanent in its dirty expression
anytime I was around.
I see the truth—had it the entire time—and never even knew it. Never
took the time to put the pieces together. But why would I when I thought I
already had them all?
Tick.
The seconds come quicker, moments faster. Rapid fire, it’s all hitting me.
Everything, all of it as consuming as the truth.
Those icicle eyes, so like someone else’s. Ones I could’ve easily
mistaken while I was half-comatose. Too much smoke in my lungs and
brain by that point to know any different.
Tick.
The color, a shade of blue iciness so similar to Cole’s, you’d hardly
notice any difference unless you really concentrated. Could focus wholly.
Tick.
The room is spinning. Everyone hanging on—or never mind, I’m the one
who needs something to grab on to.
Tick.
Tick.
 Her mouth parts and I know the words are coming. Same as I know my
vision is starting to haze, clouding over.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who knows how to light a match.”
Boom.
Time’s up.
Everything goes black.

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

LORNA STARTED THE FIRE, not Cole.

Lorna had done it.
Lorna was to blame.
I can hear my name being repeated like an echo, but it sounds muddled
and far away. I’m trapped in a repressed fog, detached from my body.
My limbs are being moved. Or is it shaken? All my brain registers is her
name as the world fell from underneath my feet. The one person to blame
for my beginning to end.
It wasn’t Cole. I want to breathe a sigh of relief, but I can’t seem to figure
out how.
Iceman had put that fire out just like he said he had. Which meant he
wasn't the only one who’d found me hiding in that barn that day.
It was Lorna.
Those blue eyes haunted me in my dreams for all these years. The ones
I’d seen in the smoke before everything had gone dark.
 I’d thought they were his but no, now I know I’d been wrong. Somehow,
I’d skewed up the time line. I’d woken not once but twice, each time pulled
back under by lightheadedness. The first after Lorna scurried off, the
second when Cole saved me.
Both brief. Both events muddled into one in my memory.
I should’ve known better, realized sooner. Sure, their eyes are a similar
shade, but the curve of Lorna’s is wider with a more pronounced curve on
the top. Whereas Cole’s are narrow but always calculating.
It was Lorna.
Lorna did it! She tried to kill me.
The muscles in my body are sore from stiffness but also somehow still
soft. Pliant, as I groan coming back.
Cole’s innocent.
More and more relief overshadows the tightness of everything else.
Pushing out stale air and replacing it with fresh facts.
Open your eyes, Princess.
There’s that voice that I’d recognize anywhere. Cole. He’s close.
Come on, open those pretty silver eyes for me.
The blackness that concealed my vision like a darkened veil, lifting the
more he speaks. I concentrate, following it through the bleakness.
He’s touching my face this time as he speaks, “Princess, please?” The
hint of panicked timbre in his voice startles me. So much so that my
muscles twitch, jumping in response.
The blackness of my vision is present, but I can hear the relief in his
breath at my movement. It makes my body respond again, stronger this
time. More clear.
 The soft coaxing of Cole’s voice stretches, bringing me back from this
comatose purgatory.
Squinting, the brightness of the lights overhead dulls, a head above my
own. Those ocean eyes stabilize me the longer my focus has time to come
back.
The muscles along his strong jawline loosen the wider my eyes open.
“That’s it, come back to me,” he encourages like a storm hadn’t just
exploded inside these walls.
That doesn’t matter right now, because Cole’s innocent.
More happiness erupts, growing, expanding like a balloon with too much
helium. He didn’t do it.
“You didn’t do it,” I gasp in awe.
“No baby, I didn’t,” he agrees, and my chest surges. That crooked grin
and that sentence are both only for me.
I lunge for him. His eyes tender in his own relief before they widen at my
abrasiveness. The force of my newfound strength rocking him from his
hinged knees. Falling, his behind settles on the tops of his heels.
He makes a noise, but it doesn’t matter what because it only sounds like
delight in my ears. My lids close on their own accord.
Cole is innocent.

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty-One

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

IT’S BEEN DAYS. NOT minutes, not hours, days, and we’re no closer to
tracking down Lorna after her little admission at Hardin.
Rory had passed out in shock. I’d barely had time to catch her before
Abram was at my side and Lorna disappeared. Her ill-veiled escape timed
perfectly.
Abram tried to get security on her, but she was already out of the
building.
We rewatched the footage. She’d been smart, taking the emergency exit
and hiding from as many people as possible before ducking into a car and
fading into traffic.
We tracked the plate, but it was a dead end. The hotel she’d been staying
at, she’d also checked out that morning. Abram had gotten her one weeks
ago after the added fights with Finn at their home.
At least that’s what Finn had mentioned. I think it was an excuse to get
her out of the house. Since then, she’s been like a ghost. Disappearing
completely like she doesn’t exist.
 Time's ticking and no one in this room is amused that she’s out there, free
and doing who knows what.
The woman’s batshit crazy and has a personal vendetta toward the love
of my life. Not a good combination.
The muscles along my arms tighten, tensing more than they already are.
Lorna will pay.
“Nothing. Again?” Finn asks in disbelief.
Eli’s dad slowly shakes his head side to side as the phone is set back
down. His head already buried back in his computer.
I grunt my disapproval while Finn’s shoulders drop that much farther.
With the money he's getting paid he better be tracking another possible
lead.
We’re all in Abram’s office at the Caspers’. This is starting to feel like a
bad case of déjà vu. The last time all of us were in here had been when
Rory ran away.
Then I was the enemy, and Rory was gone. Now Rory is here, and Lorna
is our terrorist.
Minutes pass in utter silence. Then Sgt. Daniels’s posture shifts and he’s
letting out a huff. “You know, usually when my wife is pissed, I give her a
couple of hours. Then I can track her by the credit card bill she’s racked up.
Calls it retail therapy.”
Abram snorts what I assume is his agreement, but the sound is filled with
only disgust.
Eli has been side-eyeing his father since his comment.
“So, is there?” Finn asks overeagerly. “A card statement.”
“That’s what that call was about, but it was a dead lead. No activity.” His
brows dip, almost touching at the center. “On anything. It’s like she’s gone
off the grid. Disappeared.”
Wouldn’t that make my life easier? I want to say but decide to bite my
tongue instead.
“Someone like Lorna? Who constantly needs what others have?”
Abram’s tongue clicks. “Impossible. She has to be getting it from
somewhere else. She’d never go without.” His tone was positive.
Another beat passes and then Abram’s eyes meet mine over a monitor.
They move from me to the window and back.
I don’t have to look over to know what’s outside or what he’s thinking.
Both our minds on the same thought. The barn and the fire.
If Lorna’s capable of doing something like that so casually, who knew
what else she'd do? She’s out of control, and that’s one thing I despise not
having.
We have to find her before she has the chance to do something much,
much worse.

Two more hours have passed, and we aren’t any closer than before. My
patience is already, on a good day, as thin as the pointed edge of a knife.
Today it’s been honed and sharpened that much more.
Officially, we’ve all been left out to dry, and everyone’s strung out.
How fucking hard is it to track down one psycho bitch? The answer, very.
Her career should have been a professional sociopath and not a desolate
housewife.
 “Ah, Daniels, so glad to see you having a little powwow in here. Must
mean you’ve figured out my ownership problems,” Silas aggrieves, padding
inside.
His movements are formal, like his personality. Both unwelcome at the
moment… or ever.
“You must’ve found a solution. That can be the only reason you’re here
and not working on my more pressing matter,” my father adds, uncaring if
he’s interrupting.
None of this is surprising, not for him. He believes the world owes him
everything, not the other way around.
Sgt. Daniels’s teeth grind. His military background masks everything
else. That’s the only sign he has of his discomfort, or is it resistance?
Doesn’t matter. Any sane person would rather walk over hot coals than
be in the same room with him for minutes, let alone hours a day.
Try eighteen years.
Then we can talk.
“I’ve been working nonstop, getting less than four hours of sleep a night
trying to figure it out, Silas,” he snaps back.
I don’t bother covering my hand to conceal my grin, and Silas sees it as I
intended. My father intimidates a lot of people, but I’ve never been one of
them and he hates that he doesn’t have that power over me.
He had it in title only and then after my mother died, that too went out
with everything else.
That man doesn’t have, and will never have, my respect so why bother
pretending? I refuse to kiss his ass like everyone else. Money may talk, but
I’d rather go bankrupt.
Oh wait, we already did lose our half of Hardin.
 My grin deepens into more sinister territory.
He stays unfazed, not because he cares, but rather the opposite. Silas
moves deeper into the space. His back as parallel and straight as a ruler’s
edge the closer he comes.
A true narcissist like that, taking up more of the already thinned air from
the rest of us.
“If you’re so willing to drop the importance of this and help Abram that
only leads me to believe one thing. You somehow played a role in all this. I
have my theories, but you’ve confirmed them just now.”
“Are you accusing me of not fulfilling my job? My duties. Of treason?”
Sgt. Daniels asks slowly, calculating. Zeroing in on him.
Hmmphing, Silas’s shoulders roll back at the same time the corner of his
mouth lifts the faintest amount. Then it drops, falling back into neutral
ground.
The accusation is evident by his reaction, the little it was, enough. My
father’s made up his mind and once that settles it’s a fruitless task to try and
change it. Talking your way through a wall would be easier.
A vein in Sgt. Daniels’s head starts to throb as Silas makes himself that
much more welcome. He takes a seat in one of the lounge chairs. Making it
known that he’s not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Obviously.
It’s a move of stubbornness. Silas is not willing to leave until he gets
what he wants. I, however, think it further shows his true self. His
egocentric self-shining at its fullest.
I’m grateful Rory left a while ago. Hailey had called her earlier and
wanted to hang so she agreed. Not because she wanted to leave but because
like everyone else as she listened on speaker, you could hear the pain in
Hailey’s voice.
There’s something going on with her.
Finn tried to pretend he was unaffected. Playing it off as his attention
became absolute studying the computer screen Eli was at. Much as he tried
though, the entire time she was on the phone his eyes kept flashing her way
every few seconds.
Silas is here and Rory is upstairs. That shouldn’t be a relief, but it is,
knowing where both he and she are. The group of us convinced her it’d be
easier for everyone if she stayed, so Hailey came over here instead.
At least we knew the whereabouts of one crazed person.
My father doesn’t like Rory, but that’s not saying a lot, because he hates
everyone equally. He's vital, you need him if you want to make it
somewhere in the business world, but if you disrespect him, you’re cut off.
Good luck surviving after that.
Rory isn’t afraid of conflict and although I both admire and hate that
about her, my hope is he’s gone before she comes back down. She doesn’t
need the added stress, and she mentioned something about macaroni?
I doubt I heard that right, but rarely am I wrong.
Although I will always prefer her at my side, it’s a good thing she went.
Having Hailey as a friend gives her that semblance of normalcy she
deserves.
Not that it stopped my girl from texting me asking for updates. She’s
gotten the same empty response every time.
Nothing new.
Princess is strong, I know that and so does she, but no one has taken light
to Lorna since we’ve found out the truth. We all now know what she’s
capable of, how unhinged she truly is.
Somehow the room has grown more tense as my focus shifts back to
what’s going on. Abram gets in Silas’s face. No doubt he said something
foul or inappropriate.
The way Silas’s mouth curves to a vicious proportion tells me it was
tasteless. Whatever it was, the man couldn’t help himself. Unlike his fist—
who he had no problem using on a woman—his mouth never could stay
closed.
“We agreed to keep this on the down-low. I did that as a favor to you, as
my partner,” Abram starts. “But push me again and I will go public with
this, Silas.”
“You go public, and you ruin Hardin’s reputation,” Silas snarls, refusing
to back down.
“No,” Abram corrects, in a satisfied sneer. “Someone’s already done that
for you. I am perfectly fine; I still have my title.” His voice lowers, making
it that much more intimidating. “You, however, can’t say the same.”
They have everyone’s attention, the strain between them like a heat wave
of hot energy.
It’s Eli’s dad who steps in. The sound of his laptop being slammed shut
with too much force shifting the group’s focus yet again.
Rising, he tucks it under his arm and moves toward the door.
“Abram, I’ve emailed my son what the next steps are, and he should be
able to handle it for the night. Call me if there are any updates,” Sgt.
Daniels finishes.
Breaking up the charged friction by giving Silas what he wants.
Unblinking and unmoving, Silas and Abram stay in a silent standoff. I
know they both heard what he said before he left, we all had. But like any
honorable soldier, he sacrificed himself for the greater good.
“Throw Hardin in my face again like that and see what happens,” Silas
rasps out.
“Or what?” Abram snickers, unintimidated. “You already have nothing.”
Silas’s eyes come alive, beating as they pulsate for a second too long.
Whipping around, he follows after Sgt. Daniels with his jaw locked firmly
in place.
Leaving the rest of us to deal with nothing but the scorched atmosphere
of his wake.

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Twenty-Two

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

ICEMAN: IT’S LATE, YOU should be asleep.

I suck in a sharp breath as my head snaps up from my phone. Cole texted
but I know he’s here. I can feel him, the more the goose bumps spread,
prickling the back of my neck.
He’s found me.
This shouldn’t be anything new, still, it somehow catches me off guard.
Maybe, it’s because of where I am currently. The space we both now
occupy, together.
I’m not upset about it though; it brings me a twisted sense of peace. For
so long, I thought I was alone, but not anymore.
The truth is I’m afraid. Terrified.
Could be how I ended up here after Hailey dozed off. I thought a run
might help but ultimately, I decided against it. Lorna is out there
somewhere, and I didn’t feel like waking Finn to go with me.
I came here instead, Iceman finding me. This… wonderland has always
brought me peace so I was hopeful its magic would work again tonight.
 Weave its way into my subconscious and give me some ease. Lessen the
strain.
Tonight, the room of glass walls and fragmented reflections doesn’t
disappoint. It carries its normal gift of serenity. The continuous trickling
sound of the fountain runs tranquil. Nourishing the flowers and adding to
the already beautiful room.
Being inside my glass house and with him makes me feel protected.
Them both equally helping my jittered nerves.
“You always know,” I quip. “I’m starting to think you’re a worse creep
than Lorna,” I mock.
Cole’s upper lip twitches at the attempt of my joke. I blame the bad
humor on my tiredness.
Lorna is a real threat, one all of us underestimated for too long. She tried
to kill me over five years ago and most likely would have succeeded had
Cole not saved me. Taken me out before any more smoke reached my lungs
in the barn fire.
None of us understood the reason, but after our altercation in this very
room, where she’d fought me for my book, I was beginning to put a loose
picture together.
At the time I thought it strange how she’d called me by my mother’s
name, now I know it was out of some sort of grudge.
My gaze straightens back upward. My fingers closing over the fresh scar
on my palm. The unlit fireplace in this room as stagnant as the charred logs
inside the hearth.
Lorna had wanted both Lillian and me gone, but why?
It’s as stressful as it is confusing.
 Turning my chin, Cole tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear and lifts a
flower between us. Showing it to me before placing it behind in the same
motion.
His eyes linger as they look for silent answers that I’m unable to give.
Not because I couldn’t but because like everyone else, I don’t have them.
“Talk to me, Princess,” he decides eventually. His tone stern, needing to
know anything.
The thing is though, where do I start? Do I ask how Finn and he are
doing? The whole half brother thing present. They seemed okay, but that
could be a farce and I wouldn’t put it past them to do that either. Pretend
they’re good when they really aren’t.
That notion similar to how Hailey’s been. More pretending, more
fakeness. I’m hoping she’ll open up soon, but so far, it’s been useless. As
worthless as trying to figure out why Lorna despises me so.
A chill shoots its way past my spine and down to my toes. Lorna, not
much else needs to be said about that topic.
I pull the flower from my hair and begin to stroke the silky texture of the
petal. It is easier to fixate on this than give him what he wants. Focus on the
intensity that is his being.
He’s wrung out and I can’t help but think this is all my fault.
“Hey,” he says, reaching to stall my movements. “Don’t do that, don’t go
to that place inside your head.” His voice is soft, tender.
The somberness weighs me down that much more. My chin falls, it as
heavy as my chest.
“It’s alright. We’re going to figure this all out. Just don’t…” He pauses,
pleading and it breaks me that much more. “Don’t… shut down.”
 Cradling me, his arms swallow me inside his hold. My head
automatically burrows below the crook of his collarbone. Like it should
always be there.
His head rests atop mine, chest expanding as he lets out a sigh. I start to
draw small circles around the beating of his heart. The rhythm, unlike my
own, is steady. Solid but not whole.
“Please,” he requests. “Don’t shut me out… not again. Everyone else, I
don’t care, but not me.”
My limbs stop their movements as I suddenly have the urge to cry,
hearing the hiss of pain as it pushes past his teeth.
My chest splinters when it happens again. Those already formed cracks
interweaving deeper inside my heart.
To the world, Cole’s tough, strong. Influential. Easily, he makes people
believe he’s untouchable, but I know the truth. He is inhuman to almost
everyone else but me.
I don’t know which is scarier: the fact that he’s fearful, or that he’s
opened himself up enough to be so vulnerable.
Any way you look at it we are all hurting, and it’s numbing.
“Do you ever wonder if we’ll ever have a shot at normalcy?”
“Nah,” Cole concludes, binding his arms around me with more firmness.
Not enough to hurt but enough so that I know he’s certain. “If you think
you’re normal then you overpaid.”
My nose scrunches. “Overpaid?”
“Yeah, normal is for people who are too afraid to stand out.” My head
tilts back as his thumb runs along the vertical lines between my brows and
nose. “You, Rory, have never been normal, and that is my favorite thing
about you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, Princess. Abnormal is my favorite kind of normal.”

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Twenty-Three

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“DON’T YOU JUST LOVE when the weather gets like this?” Hailey hums
in approval.
“It’s nice being able to eat outside,” I agree.
“My coastal blood still can’t handle the cold,” she jokes. Stretching out
her limbs behind her so that more of the sun fans her face.
The weather had warmed enough that they’d started letting students back
outside to eat during lunch.
Although I’m not appreciating the dip of warmth as much as Hailey, I
could agree it’s nice being out in the open spring air.
“You sure you don’t want the other half or even a bite?” I wonder aloud,
nibbling on my sandwich.
“Nah, I’m not hungry,” she says, waving me off and closing her eyes on a
generous sigh. Enjoying the fresh warmth on her skin.
The edges of my mouth droop. This has been Hailey’s mantra lately.
Hardly eating which is alarming because the only thing more startling is
how much she does consume on a regular basis. Her stomach as bottomless
as the ocean.
Over the last few days though she’s hardly been eating a thing and it’s
starting to become concerning. This isn’t my friend.
“These are your favorite,” I coax, lifting the barely-eaten bag of sour
gummy worms. I’d seen them while grabbing my lunch and was hopeful
that as soon as she’d seen the bag, she’d jump at them and eat something.
She’s addicted to them.
No such luck, even after I ate a few thinking she’d smell the soured
sweetness but nope.
Nothing’s worked.
Waving the bag, the sound of the plastic at least has her cracking her eyes
back open, craning her neck sideways. Only her nose crinkles up in distaste,
shoving them away.
The candy in the bag falls everywhere and I huff out my annoyance at the
mess. You’d think I’d offered her fish eyeballs, not her favorite treat.
“Okay,” I demand. The gummies flying everywhere are my breaking
point. “What’s going on? What’s up with you lately?” I grit, strung dry.
I’ve been patient, trying my best to play the supportive friend role, but
it’s obvious it isn’t getting me anywhere.
“Can you tell me what’s going on already?”
Her shoulders fall, that artificial happiness going right along with it.
Finally. I want to scream. Every nerve in my body stretched thin from this,
the Lorna situation, and Finn and Cole.
Hailey doesn’t answer right away, her head facing forward. The lines of
distress form all the way down to her neck as she swallows roughly.
“The hellhounds will be showing soon.”
 And? I want to ask, but bite the inside of my cheek instead after noticing
how anxious she’s gotten. Jittery almost, like she’s suddenly on edge.
“Can we talk later? Now’s not a good time.”
“Then when is?” I whine, frustrated and spiteful.
She squints one eye over at me. My agitation getting the better of me so
when I speak up again, I do my best to soften my tone.
“Look, I know we all have stuff going on right now, but I’ve been
transparent with you on what I’m dealing with. I would appreciate it if you
did the same. We’re supposed to be friends, right?”
Right?
Her bottom lip starts to wobble at the same time as her lids widen, a
sheen shining in them that hadn’t been there before.
Hailey’s chest rises and falls and my heart sinks further for her. That
bottom lip of hers pulls out farther, wrecking me with each new millimeter.
I reach for her hand, and she lets me, seeming absolutely terrified.
“…I’m scared,” she admits with a shaky sound.
The grip she has me in is ironclad but I don’t notice, my entire body
numb at the amount of sadness in her entire exterior.
Her chest moves, rising as it falls in quick movements.
“I’m—my parents, they…” She hesitates, stuttering past the syllables.
Those deep-brown eyes of hers two pools of fear mixed with courage as she
tries to spit out her sentence.
Then something shifts as her gaze moves past my shoulder. That terror-
filled, wrung-out honesty switched with the flutter of her lashes.
“My parents, they’re uh—they’re getting a divorce,” she clarifies, no
longer that vulnerable person of moments ago. Now she sounds like a robot.
 My ribs sink, pushing against my organs in disappointment as she blinks
slowly. I recognize that look, witnessed it dozens of times with my own
mother.
The fake happy exterior back in place as the footsteps grow closer at my
back.
“Is that everything,” I ask, uncaring that the boys are almost to us.
Quickly she wipes at her lashes, those beads of moisture washed away as
rapidly as they’d arrived. Replaced with some sort of anger, my comment
somehow striking a nerve.
“Does there need to be more?” she snaps, angry, yanking her hand from
mine and staring forward again. Her spine rigid and straight.
Hailey was always the touchy one. So, for her to pull away so
aggressively I know I overstepped but I don’t know how to correct my
mistake. Not that I get the chance. The guys are here and have taken seats
on the grass around us.
The deep frown lines along her mouth smooth out. The confidence in
which she greets them overkill, even for my ears.
Fake, fake, fake. All of it.
The guys continue with whatever their conversation was before they’d
arrived. I stopped listening as soon as Hailey reached for her stomach and
Finn let out a laugh. The gurgling sound was loud.
I knew she was hungry.
“Jeez, Williams, your stomach is grumbling so loud it's speaking that one
language.” Snapping his fingers as he recalls the name. “Hungarian.”
“That’s a language and a country, you moron. Not an affirmation of
actual hunger,” Eli clarifies.
 “I know,” Finn drawls slowly. “It was a joke,” he deadpans. “And besides
it is a language… a food language.” Winking as he grins in Hailey’s
direction.
Taking an abandoned gummy worm from the ground, Cole chucks it at
Finn’s face. Uncaring, he instead catches it in his mouth and starts to chew
on the half-dirt-covered gummy with a satisfied smirk.
I fake gag my disgust as he sits there so proud of himself for thwarting
Cole’s attempt. Everyone—himself included—knowing there was no way
that tasted good.
I glance over at Hailey, while the boys are distracted mocking Finn at his
expense and realize she’s trembling. Blinking away her daze, she shoulders
him. Laughing along even though she sounds like an impostor.
“I’m thinking I could use a chocolate bar,” I lie. “What about you?”
Asking only loud enough for her to hear.
The lines in the edges of her eyes even out even as she winces, knowing I
caught her. Her stomach makes that gurgling sound again, but she recovers
in double time.
That dimple in her cheek pops out as she says, “Actually, now that you
mention it, that sounds heavenly. Thank you.”
My expression narrows, undecided if she’s telling me the truth or just
trying to get me to leave since I seem to be the only one not buying her
facade.
Either way, I find my head nodding, agreeing because at least she’s
volunteering to eat something.
“Deal,” I confirm, overeagerly jumping up from my spot and dusting off
my hands.
 “Hey,” she says, waving the empty bag of gummies after I’ve turned
back toward the main building. “Add these too, please.”
The muscles in her cheeks lift, and it’s the first time I’ve seen a genuine
reaction from her in days.
But like everything else, it’s as short lived as her next lungful of air. That
gloomy expression back in full force before I turn all the way back.
I know how much she idolized her parents, and they back her. If this is
how she is with me then I wonder what it’s like when I’m not around.
I debate asking if she wants to come over again tonight but decide against
it since we have an audience. I’ll text her later about it. If I give her time,
she might be more willing to open up.
This is a first great step and I appreciate it for what it is, as I give Cole a
quick kiss and tell him I’ll be right back. At least I have a general idea of
what’s going on now.
Divorce.
Everyone of significance in my life seems to be getting them as of late.
They’re being thrown out like a cash giveaway, everyone jumping at the
opportunity.
Once inside I notice that the line has doubled inside the cafeteria. Instead
of wasting time waiting, I round the corner to the small alcove of vending
machines.
I snort to myself. Not once have I ever seen a student here at KPA use
them, but hey, desperate times call for desperate measures.
With a chocolate bar in hand, I push the buttons again for the gummy
candy. The box whirrs back to life as the spiral cord unravels, but at the last
second it gets stuck, and the bag never falls.
 Grumbling, I curse, smacking the glass. The robotic spiral completely
unfazed as pain shoots down my wrist. “Come on, you stupid piece of shi
—”
“—Chocolate and carbs? Going through another breakup?” Madison
derides. Her footsteps quieter than her voice ever could be.
“Have you ever thought about wearing a bell?” I taunt, unbashful.
Shoving me to the side, she overlooks the comment and leans down.
Lifting the flap where my snack should be, it snaps back closed. She does it
several times until it creates a pocket of air, and the item falls to the bottom.
Rising, she shoves it in my hand. That glint running along her pupils
screams victory. Also, moron, definitely think that one is hidden in there
too, or maybe it’s her smirk I’m getting that one from.
I want to smack that look right off her face, but don’t because she did
something genuine and helped me for no reason.
“Alright, show’s over,” she scolds. Sharply nudging her head in the
opposite direction. “Get going.”
Scoffing, she gives me a small shove when I don’t instantly do as she
asks. Her annoyance is evident, but it’s overshadowed because Madison did
something almost… nice?
Huh, who would have thought she was capable of it?
The whirring sound of the machine goes again as she gets her own items.
The noise snaps me from my daze as she moves past.
“Wait,” I holler, whipping around.
Shoving a chip into her mouth she makes a displeased noise. “What?”
she snaps. “Forget something else?”
“Why aren’t you getting food from the dining hall?”
 “Unlike you, I have standards and those don’t include waiting in a line or
serving myself.” She shrugs indifferently, her pride rolling off that shoulder
right along with it. “I expect my food to be placed in front of me, not the
other way around.”
I want to point out that her getting food from the vending machine
completely contradicts that, and I would have, had her comment not given
me an idea.
A twisted, fucked-up thought stimulates my brain. I know the odds are
against me and it most likely won’t work, but I decide to go for it anyway.
We needed answers and who better understands the mind of someone so
self-centered? Besides, what did I really have to lose? I doubt her ego
would even notice that I’m about to try and use her.
Her wrist rolls, further showing her unhappiness the longer I refuse to
leave. “You got something to say?”
“Actually,” I start, and one of her perfectly trimmed eyebrows arches. “I
do. See, I’m having trouble finding someone and you remind me a lot of
her.”
Madison crosses her arms but doesn’t deny me, so I continue on. Here
goes nothing.

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Twenty-Four

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN you need my help?”

She juts out her hip, saying the words like she’s tasting acid for the first
time. Bitter and slimy, but also with a bit of a metallic edge.
“We—” I correct. “I could use your help.” The words sound foreign
coming from my mouth.
“Who is this we, exactly?” Madison insists, not missing the hiccup.
Somehow that one eyebrow arches farther, and I’m almost relieved. She
hasn’t automatically denied me as I anticipated.
Asking is a long shot, but I had to try. I couldn’t afford not to. We had to
find Lorna.
Her mind and demeanor are similar to Lorna’s so she might have an idea
where someone like that would go. There are no dumb ideas by this point.
Grimly she stares me down and I lift a shoulder, glancing at the wall.
“Me, Cole, the hellhounds…”
Her lip twitches the smallest amount. “All the hellhounds?”
 I angle my head up, confused but she dismisses me with a very aloof
hand wave, and I want to know what it means. Really means.
Still, what an odd question to ask. She knows Cole’s with me, is there
someone else she’s referring to?
I don’t get long to ponder the thought because her mouth opens and she’s
talking again. Rushing out an explanation that’s not necessary and the
jumbles of it makes me think she’s now the one who’s anxious.
She’s somehow turned into the one who messed up, misspoke, and is
trying to correct her actions. I watch, tilting my head farther as her
frustrations grow. For once I don’t think it’s directed at me, but herself.
“You said you needed something?” she heaves, finishing as her nose
points back in its natural direction. Upward.
Winded, she’s winded.
“Uh, yeah… you remind me of someone, and I was wondering what you
do when you get mad? Do you go somewhere, buy something?” Madison’s
eyes narrow to slits as I emphasized that one word.
“Are you stereotyping me because I hold myself up to a certain standard?
I’m not that vapid,” she denies.
She’s offended, but I don’t care.
“Okay, so if you don’t use a credit card to solve your problems, what do
you do?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t, like I said you remind me of someone.”
Her sneer sits, stuck to her face like epoxy. “If I remind you so much of
this person then why can’t you ask them?”
“Because… because I-I… just can’t,” I push out.
 Earlier, I concluded there were no bad ideas. I retract that statement. This
isn’t only bad but stupid with a waste of time sprinkled in as well.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend you can annoy with this?” Her voice is cold
and stabbing as she bites into a potato chip. Holding, she has her can of
soda in the same hand as the bag.
She starts moving and I despise how effortless she makes looking
walking away in her heels. Her confidence the most charming thing about
her.
“Madison, I’m serious,” I argue.
Her nostrils flare as I stall her in her place.
“Doesn’t matter, because it’s not my problem,” she says, flipping her hair
over her shoulder. “If it involves you, or any of the other hellhounds, count
me out.”
“Answer the question and I’ll go away.” Sidestepping and blocking her
as she tries to pass again. She grunts out her annoyance.
“Or I could turn around and go the other way. Go hunt down Coley and
remind him what it’s like to be with someone who’s on his level.”
“So why haven’t you then?” I challenge, even as her words splinter
inside my chest. “You’ve had your shot and yet you haven’t moved.”
We stay like this in a silent standoff for several drawn-out moments until
she breaks. Her eyes find the ceiling on a scoff.
That tearing feeling stops with a constricting force. It’s almost… almost
like she doesn’t care?
My stomach loosens from its gripping sensation. I see it now; Madison
isn’t into Cole like that anymore. Maybe she never had been, to begin with?
Her words were carefully chosen only out of strategy, and not envy.
Trying to get a rise out of me to shield her own discomfort.
 It’s manipulating but almost impressive how quickly she’s learned to
deflect.
“Are you willing to answer my question?” To help me out again? I know
it’s a stretch after the whole vending machine thing, but I try anyway. If she
didn’t want to help, she’d have left already.
“I think I’ll pass, thanks though.” Her voice is overly cavalier, chirpy.
My teeth gnash together. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yep,” I deadpan. “I changed my mind; I don’t want your help.”
“Don’t pretend I don’t understand what you’re getting at.” She takes a
pointed step into me. “How I haven’t noticed how you think every one of us
that goes to this school is all the same. Pretentious and spoiled because we
have money.”
This is the Madison I expect. The uncaring, heartless person who looks
down on people. Well, now she’s the one staring me down but for
completely different reasons.
“You think you’re better because you defend people, but you know what
you’re teaching them in the process?” she concedes. “You’re coaching them
on how to remain weak. Small. Not letting them gain the courage to stand
on their own feet.”
A shadow crosses over her eyes before it disappears and it’s replaced
with a cold, empty nothingness.
“You’re weakening them, and you don’t even realize it.” That deadly
smirk back in place when I say nothing, fuming in place.
No way she’s right.
Right?
Wrong.
 Madison goes in for the kill. “That’s how life is, shouldn’t you know that
better than anyone?”
“And you think that by being a bully, you're what? Strengthening them
somehow?”
Her head falls back on a laugh, but it sounds like isolation. “I’m teaching
them that the real world sucks. No sugarcoating.”
“You’re wrong,” I bite out on a swallow. “You’re doing it to soothe your
own tragedy. Making them feel small so you feel big.”
“Am I though?” she asks over the rim of her drink, already stepping
away. “Admit it, I’m the most real one here,” she refutes.
“If you’re so real, how come you refuse to answer my question?” I
holler, words echoing off the lockers of the empty hallway.
Her steps pause and I wonder if there might be a chance she’ll tell me,
but then her shoulders widen, and I know it’s a lost cause.
My arms swing out, not that she sees. “Be real, Madison.”
That hint of hesitation lingers between us like a bomb ready to go off.
“My answer is still no,” she says, and I notice how her chin points down
sharply even if her back is to me.
That’s not the only thing. Her words are too even, leveled, and I imagine
if I could see her face her eyes would be squeezed shut.
I rub at my own eye sockets, exhausted as she rounds the corner. This
improvised idea was a complete bust.

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Twenty-Five

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

COACH’S WHISTLE SOUNDS. “ALRIGHT, boys, bring it in.”

He blows it again, the noise loud and expressive, much like his tenacity.
It rattles my eardrums and I pick up my pace, everyone else following the
same.
The high-pitched squeal of a noise was nothing new. Coach Boone
chooses to use that instead of actual words most of the time.
I set my hands on my waste breathing in through my nose as my chest
pounds, coming to a stop. The tightness from the last few hours running
back and forth down the court. It’s nothing I’m not familiar with but today
it’s even more snug.
Eyeing my teammates, I cough out a lungful of air. They all have similar
reactions. No one said anything the entire time, but we all felt it. This is it,
and it’s sobering.
Coach faces out at everyone else. Voice as dry as his personality when he
speaks. The exact opposite of his whistle.
 “I know what you’re all thinking, but I won’t allow this attitude come
game day. This is a solemn moment for some of you. A conclusion to years
of hard work and dedication to your friends, your community, and your
team.”
He takes his time looking around at each of us, especially the seniors
before continuing.
“This might be our last practice, but I don’t want that to diminish the
efforts you’ve put into building a legacy for this school. You’ve worked
hard and it shows. You all should be proud of yourselves no matter what
happens after this next game. I know what you boys are capable of.”
People bounce on the balls of their feet. Others roll back their shoulders
in anticipation.
I stay still, resolute.
Focused.
Coach’s words grow stern as he throws his arm in our circle. “Now let’s
go and bring home that win tomorrow night.”
Boone’s words turn gruffer. Dropping almost to a growl and I wonder if
that’s because he’s trying to cover the emotion I hear thickening his tone.
The man could be a dick, but he’s a good coach. He put in as much time
and effort as the rest of us. This win will equally be his and ours.
Hollers break out within our small circle. Our chant starts slow but grows
like our desire to win.
The facts are we’ve come this far and anyone else would be proud, but I
want more. That title’s ours and I don’t lose.
We’re close, victory only the tip of our team’s achievement. For years
we’ve played sacrificing our time, putting in the hours, and dedicating
ourselves. All for this.
 Sure, we’ve come close to getting this far in the past but now, in our last
year at KPA, we’ll be able to say we’ve finally earned it.
“I said, are you ready?” he repeats, louder, as our howls grow more
intense. Our rhythm as steady as my knowledge in knowing we can’t lose.
With our knuckles all still placed in the center, I catch Coach’s brief
glance. The look only for me as I nod. It’s curt, but it’s all that’s needed.
A quiet understanding passes between us. As captain, he’s counting on
me more so than the others. To be a guide, a leader, same as I do every
other time I step out on the court.
The extra pressure is on me as soon as my feet cross the line.
I’m ready.
The added strain a welcome friend.
This time I’m the one to speak. Anticipation hums, like jolts of lightning
coursing from one closely knit body and moving to the next. We all sense it.
“Who are we?”
“KPA,” they all chant back with the same deepness.
“What do we want?”
“The win!”
I raise my voice, unconvinced. “What do we want?”
“THE WIN!”
The simple sentence looped over and over as our arms lower before
rising over our heads. More shouts ring out as we break apart.
We’re amped, ready, and unwilling to settle for anything less than the
win.
The game tomorrow is ours.
Nothing but gold on my mind as I head for the locker room.
Music pumps through the speakers as the boys on the team finish showering
before heading out. Over half have already left by the time Finn’s ready.
Eli and I have been done for a while. Growing up with a dad whose ex-
military, he’s had time management down since before the diapers came off.
Me, I just have my girl waiting on me back at her house.
Waiting on Finn is nothing new. The boy has a routine and likes to
exfoliate. Our diligence does nothing to help speed up his process.
Rory always jokes that he has more of a bathroom routine than she does,
and she’s not wrong. In a few minutes, she could be ready and looking
flawless, but that’s not saying much because she’s always stunning.
Finn on the other hand, aside from the rumpled clothes, isn’t afraid to
spend hours making sure his hair is perfectly styled. The added time usually
works in his favor though. He’s never had a problem stealing girls’ hearts.
It’s trying to keep them that’s the problem.
For them, not him.
Eli curses quietly under his breath, and my head follows his line of sight,
spotting Finn only in a towel.
“I thought he was at least changed by now,” Eli mumbles beside me.
Unbashful, Finn passes us as he rips off his towel. Bare ass hanging out
as he shoves a leg through his boxers. “What’s got your dick in a pretzel?”
he asks, somehow catching on to Eli’s soured mood.
Eli’s upper lip curls. “A pretzel?”
“Yeah, it’s more interesting to say than a knot.”
 When neither of us reacts, he shakes it off, shoving the other leg through.
The elastic on his shorts snap against his waist as he straightens back to his
full height.
Finn’s arm bends, finding his hip bone when neither of us agrees or
disagrees. “What? You can’t tell me I’m wrong.”
Eli shakes his head in disapproval and Finn’s eyes widen in his
bewilderment. His head shifts to me in the hopes that I agree.
“Oh, calm down,” I protest. “The joke was shit, but it wasn’t as bad as
your closest neighbor.”
Finn’s mouth falls, not getting it. “Our closest neighbor is Silas.”
I bite back my wince; notice how he didn’t say, my father? Because we
now share the same one.
“Yeah, that guys an asshole,” I say, and I hear Eli snort out a sound. The
edge of my mouth curves the tiniest amount. At least someone understands.
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Finn notes. Tone dead, finally understanding after
about thirty seconds.
Leaning back, Eli’s head hits the lockers behind him with a sigh. The
noise muffled by his hand, spotting the ever-present confusion marring
Finn’s face. The noise was too heavy, and rigid.
“Seriously though.” I ask angling my chin back at Eli. “What’s up with
you?”
“Mom and Dad are both coming to the game tomorrow.”
“And?” Finn asks, drawing out the one word.
Eli exhales. “And Mom texted a few minutes ago to let me know my
sister is coming too.”
“Your little sister, ’bout yay high?” Finn asks, putting his hand to about
the middle of his stomach.
 “The one and only,” Eli agrees. “Only she’s not so little anymore. She’ll
be starting high school next year.”
“And the problem with that is?”
My elbow rests on my knee as I lean in waiting to hear the answer as
well. Eli’s sister is hardly ever around.
I don’t know the exact reason she got sent away because Eli doesn’t like
bringing it up and I never cared enough to push. Mostly she’s only home on
breaks or holidays. Her appearance is rare and if I didn’t know him better,
I’d have thought—like most people assume—that he’s an only child.
That doesn’t stop them from video chatting or texting all the time though.
Even from states away, he’s watching out.
“The problem,” Eli clarifies, unamused by Finn’s antics. “Is that we’re
graduating this year.”
“So?”
“So, that means she’ll be graduating from her school and coming back
here for high school.”
“That’s awesome, man,” Finn says, being supportive. “You’ll all be back
together under one roof.”
“Uh.” That one word coming off like a duh. “Did you forget that we’ll
also be graduating? Going off to college?”
Finn’s forehead creases. “What’s wrong with that?”
“If I’m not around, I won’t be able to protect her from whores like you. It
was one thing at an all-girls school, but next year will be different. I know
the types that run this place.”
“Come on, don’t be so controlling. Let her live.” Finn glowers, bottom
lip jutting out as he fakes his offense at the less-than-subtle comment. He
knows how he is and fully embraces it.
 I snort, Finn’s comment is rich coming from him.
Anyone with eyes has known the girl has had a crush on him for years.
He’s never once reciprocated it but that hasn’t stopped those eyelashes of
hers from fluttering with the speed of a hummingbird’s wings in his
direction at parties or events.
“I’m her brother,” Eli states, outraged.
“She’ll be alright.”
Eli tips his chin. “What about you guys? Are your family’s coming?” he
asks, quick to shift the topic.
The question is open to anyone but we both know it isn’t directed at me.
They both know my father would never make the time. Even if he did have
it, he’d find something to fill it with, so he’d have the excuse.
A normal person would take it personally, but I shed that like a newborn
does to a mother’s womb pretty early on.
“Don’t call Abram that,” Finn demands, showing his teeth. “He’s not my
family or my dad anymore.”
“Isn’t he?” Eli asks as his hands grip the bench beneath his thighs. “Up
until recently you never would have thought otherwise.”
“Just because someone provides a house and food doesn’t make them
instantly a father.”
Don’t I understand that one.
“What does then?” Eli says, pushing forward in his spot. “Was it the fact
that he gave you everything? Supported you. Hell, he let you play out this
season uninterrupted, unlike Silas did with Cole. What hasn’t he done?”
“He never told me the truth,” Finn yells, face full of menace, which Eli
meets unblinking.
 “Do you even know if he knew that for himself?” he demands, defending
Abram for some reason.
The air is so thick between those two it’s like trying to breathe
underwater.
“You think Abram would’ve treated you any different had he known?”
Eli throws back, unafraid. “You think you would have turned out better if
you what? Grew up as Cole had? We all know how Silas treats women,” he
mocks. “What if it’d been Rory and not Cole’s mom?”
Not once have I wanted to interject but at the mention of my mother and
how things ended with her my skin crawls. Reigniting, it’s like an inferno
across my skin in the form of chilled goose bumps.
My mother deserved better.
Eli’s head shakes on a mirthless laugh, chin pointed at the ground before
he meets his stare again. “It’s time to grow up, Finn.”
Finn’s jaw clenches, a hard glint settling there in his eye.
After my mom died, I practically grew up over at his house, so yeah,
Eli’s got him there. The way Abram treated Finn a night-and-day difference
from the approach I got.
His shoulders drop like a toddler who's been put in time-out, only his was
for years. Regret of how my life is—was—flashes. Had he grown up in the
house down the road from his, things would’ve been so different.
It’s fucked up but maybe Lorna not telling Finn was a gift. Undoubtful,
knowing her, that it was done out of anything but her own greed but still.
He got a better deal out of the two of us.
“You think you’re controlling your emotions but really, you’re refusing to
deal with them. Shutting them out isn’t the right way to go about it.”
 “I am controlling my emotions,” Finn says. Speaking out the side of his
barely moving, tight-lipped mouth.
His temper is on the brink of erupting all over again.
“Now is a prime example of that, pretzel dick!” Finn spews out, going
toe to toe.
“Wrong, you’re ignoring them. If you had control, you wouldn’t be
avoiding them completely. You haven’t learned to embrace understanding
them.”
Alarmingly Finn stays, standing statuesquely still, even though it’s
evident everything in him screams disobedience.
His eyes pulsate as the whites glow in his anger.
“Learn the difference. I have my own problems to work out,” Eli
concludes. Slinging the strap of his duffel over his chest and opposite
shoulder. “I’m out. See you tomorrow night,” adding that last part with his
back already to us.
Well then.

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty-Six

OceanofPDF.com
 Abram

OceanofPDF.com
Then…
TODAY’S SHAPING UP TO be one of those days and it’s not even noon
yet.
First, I’d barely climbed out of bed this morning before the snake of a
woman that lay’s next to me in designer skin starts badgering me. She’s
nearly given me a migraine and it’s hardly five a.m.
While simultaneously ignoring—I mean listening—to my dear wife, she
rants on about needing more clothes for an upcoming event. I showered,
brushed my teeth, shaved, and am almost finished dressing before I even
think about replying. She already has a closetful of unworn items.
All that I have left is picking out a tie, her yapping even making the
simple task difficult. Now to go with my wife’s unattractive personality
orange or my sanity like my balls are lost blue.
The choice a difficult one indeed.
When I spend more time pondering this and not enough nodding to show
I’m somewhat interested she decides for me. Guess I’m going with the dull,
but finding a way to deal, periwinkle shade instead.
Working it around my neck, her smirk goes sly. Eyes gleaming with too
much approval when she pulls it as tight as the hold on my credit card in
my pocket.
Playing it off she smooths out the collar of my suit jacket and dusts off
my shoulders.
My head is buried in my phone as I cross the hallway, reading the text
from Silas wanting me in early.
 It doesn’t do much to ignore her because she’s right here. Trailing me the
same way she’s been doing for years. The tactic, unlike my investment in
this marriage, dedicated.
Not lifting my head, I pull out my card and hand it over before I damage
more brain cells. Whatever Silas wants it sounds urgent and I’m all for the
excuse to leave.
I would be a fool to think Lorna cared which is why I don’t bat an eye as
she plucks the black card from my fingers. Humming her approval, she
climbs down the stairs finally getting what she wants.
Money doesn’t buy happiness, but it does buy me peace and quiet and
that is invaluable in this household.
Gripping the railing at the bottom of the stairs I catch myself at the last
second before I’m almost taken out by my son’s forgotten shoes.
Sprinting, a maid comes by, smiling apologetically before grabbing them.
Clearing my throat, I restraighten my tie, reassuring her it’s alright but
since she’s here I ask for my coffee as well.
Bobbing her head, she hugs Finn’s other forgotten items to her chest. A
coat, his book bag, and the newest addition, the shoes all leftover from the
night before.
Rushing, my son comes in, whooshing past the poor woman like a
tornado. One minute he’s here, the next he’s gone. His storm of giggles
echoes down the hall in his glee.
“Ha, gotcha, Dad!” he explodes joyfully.
His high-pitched squeals around the house are so much better than my
wife’s prudent ones.
Coming back with a coffee, the maid hands it over, but I hardly have a
sip before I’m heading out the door and arrive at Hardin. I’m too alert about
what this meeting is for. Another fresh one will be waiting for me in my
office anyway.
Stepping into Silas’s office, I don’t have the slightest clue what this is
about. The cryptic tenacity of his message alarms me.
“Silas, I need you to make this quick—” The words grow stale, dying
there on my tongue as the chair turns around.
I gulp past my confusion as the woman folds her arms together on the
desk.
“Camellia?” I puzzle aloud.
Those sharp cerulean eyes of hers tracking my every breath of air. Her
dark-ebony hair and petite heart-shaped face a far contrast to the sharp lines
of her husband’s stature.
“Why are you here? Where’s Silas?” I ask, sounding impatient but not
impersonal. She and I have always gotten along well enough.
At one time she and Lillian were not quite friends but more than formal
acquaintances? She and Lorna never have had that relationship.
“He’s not the one who texted?” I already know the answer, but I ask
anyway.
Her smirk tells me she’s amused by my expected confusion but that’s not
surprising. Camellia has always been cunning. People have never been
willing to give her enough credit, only ever praising Silas.
She’s crafty. More so than her husband, quite possibly. She’s poised but
not one to be underestimated.
Extending her arm, she points at the chair across from his desk. “Sit,” she
directs more than requests.
I agree, taking a seat out of curiosity more than anything.
 Rarely does she make her appearance known here at Hardin. Whereas I
practically have to bribe my wife with a monthly spa trip to not show up.
Knowing Silas though he probably has a similar mindset, only I’m sure
he doesn’t have to bribe Camellia. She just doesn’t come.
The man’s mind is revolutionary when it comes to business, no one can
deny that. His downfall? He’s as detached and as dead as they come, and I
would expect nothing less at his home.
Silas lives to work, not raise a family. His child, Cole, was born out of
necessity rather than love.
Camellia leans forward and the action draws me from my thoughts. “So
how are you, Abram?”
“Fine,” I acknowledge, straightening out this horrendously hideous-
colored tie. “An active morning, but I’m sure you know all about that with
Cole,” I add, making polite conversation.
“I do… understand,” she agrees with a small chuckle.
I can’t decide if it’s forced or natural. That’s how skilled she is. Slick.
That’s not what tells me she has an agenda though. It’s in the little things
like how she keeps her voice neutral, no fluctuation. A true professional,
not showing her nerves, if she has any.
No beads of sweat run along her temple or pebble on her lip. They’re
steeled, whereas Lorna’s insecurities will blush under five coats of makeup.
“Our boys, so much energy, yes?” she notes, relaxing more as she leans
back. Her legs are crossed but the one-foot kicks, rocking her chair side to
side. “Such busy little boys.”
“This morning I almost somersaulted over Finn’s shoes.”
Her eyes warm.
 “The other day I brought Cole to an overlook, and he nearly gave me a
heart attack. I’d turned around for a moment and he’d taken off toward the
edge.”
I chuckle even though I understand the momentary feeling of terror
completely.
“Fearless, independent misters we’re raising, aren’t we?”
“Trying,” I note agreeing with her.
“Children, are such special treasures.”
Her fondness is genuine as her head tilts. The swinging of her chair now
matches the movement of the pendant on the chain of her necklace. It
moves, sliding back and forth smoothly as her hand grips the base shifting it
back and forth.
“Treasures, terrors, same thing.”
The movement along her necklace stops, as her hand freezes then, in the
open air. Something in her gaze is frozen and then she blinks, and it’s gone.
Almost like she’s had a thought or an idea.
To what I’m not sure.
Her eyes meet mine again as a dryness falls over the room as both her
feet find the ground, back straightening to a rod.
“How about your daughter?” The question comes from nothing. Eyes full
of too much interest while mine thin at the intrusiveness.
I never brought that part of my life up with Silas. It’s too personal, fresh,
even if it’s been over half of a decade. Besides Silas wouldn’t have any
interest in my personal life so, it’s strange that Camellia does ask suddenly
and without need. She gauges me as much as she is examining.
“A terror as well? No,” she concedes, retracting. “Surely not.”
I have no idea.
 The thought crushes me, not that she sees, my face a neutral canvas. I can
sense that she somehow knows anyway though.
Not that it matters, any of it. I did what was best. I kept them safe. Cut
off Lillian like I had to. I did it to protect both of them.
“Don’t be shy, Abram, tell me,” she presses.
I have the sudden urge to study my shoes at my own unease, but I refuse
the denial. I did this to myself and I’m paying the price.
“She’s with her mother. Enjoying life, same as our sons, I’m sure.”
Giving her something even if it’s barely anything.
Truth is I don’t have the slightest clue, Lorna made sure of that the day
she forced me, threatening my hand.
“What about hobbies? Interests, I bet she’s bright and somewhat
charming.” She gleams. The compliment forward but not in a strange way
but more encouraging.
“Definitely,” I confirm, even though I have no idea. She has to be though,
she’s the perfect combination of both Lillian and me.
“Did you call me in here only to talk about my daughter?” I question,
feigning indifference even as I grow restless, the longer we stay on this
topic.
She studies me and I know she sees right through my bluff.
“I didn’t originally, but now that we’ve gotten on the topic… I believe
children are essential. They’re our future, our legacy. What will be left of us
even after we’re gone.”
Her eyes are so sharp they could pierce straight through a shard of glass
right now.
“Don’t you agree?” Her tone is too innocent.
“It would be a shame to disagree.”
 Her lips twitch upward. “A true businessman answer. Something my
husband might give. You’re telling me what I want to hear without throwing
in a real opinion.”
Told you.
The perceptive, cunning ones are the best at being overlooked.
“It is a skill learned.”
“And what about our sons?”
“What about them?”
That pendant is moving again, swinging in her hold. I begin to wonder if
it’s some sort of nervous tic.
“Surely you can’t tell me you don’t have regrets. Wished for something
different. To do better, have more opportunities?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused about what she’s getting at.
“Isn’t that our job? Set them up for a future better than our own? Allow
them the chances, the opportunities, we never got?”
A knot catches in my throat. “Our children are already set up with every
possible advantage. Hardin has benefited us all. What more is there?”
Camellia’s eyes widen with a startling speed. “They’re trapped.”
“How so?”
“It’s a cycle, don’t you understand?” I don’t but I let her continue
uninterrupted anyway. “You and my husband are equal partners, and one
day our sons will be locked into this same transaction.”
I snort out of my own self-righteousness. “There are far worse things out
there,” disagreeing completely.
Her stare goes distant then, and she completely looks through me like I’m
no longer human. I don’t understand where I miscalculated. Misspoke.
 Camellia wants to say something, I can see it but it’s like the words get
stuck on her tongue. Cemented in her own perplexion.
“Are you feeling alright, Camellia?”
I don’t understand this—I’d say meeting, but I don’t believe that’s the
case anymore—interaction at all.
Blinking she comes back but it’s as slow as the muscles in her cheeks as
they morph into a twisted grin. The action is strange like she’s had a sudden
sense of clarity. That thing in her brain clicking together as those imaginary
dots line up.
“You should be more involved,” she notes staring me down. Suddenly
persistent. “With your daughter, I mean. We only have a limited amount of
time with them as is.”
That’s true, but why does she make that sound so cryptic?
“Here,” she says with gusto. Reaching behind her neck and unclasping
the chain. “Give her this. As a gift.”
I glance down with interest at the crescent moon pendant in my palm.
Seconds ago, it had been around my colleague’s wife’s neck, now it’s mine?
“Give it to her, as a favor. For me?”
Why does she sound so eager all of a sudden? Persistent, even.
“The relationship between a father and son is important. Yes, but a
relationship between father and daughter is special. Go.” She emphasizes,
“Reach out.”
She knows.
I don’t understand how or when she figured it out, but she does. Camellia
knows I’ve never met her, much less seen a photo. I know nothing about my
daughter.
 To say I haven’t been tempted to reach out in the past would be a lie. Ask
for updates, anything, to know they’re both doing alright. These thoughts
usually come later at night, my mind finding the time to grow curious.
Then I glance over at the woman sleeping beside me, my wife, and
everything falls back into place. My reality.
I don’t know if that makes me come off as a weaker man. Somehow
though, I get the sense Camellia doesn’t think that and it lessens the weight
of my burden by a fraction of a decimeter.
Stretching, she reaches between us and closes her hand over mine.
Locking the necklace in my grip. Her smile is so reassuring, charming. “…
Do this for me, Abram?”
“Camellia, I can’t—”
“—you can,” she encourages, giving my hand another squeeze. “This is a
shot at redemption. A reminder to her that you’re there, same as the moon.
We can’t always see it, but it’s here. It’s with us, always.”
Her eyes shine with the same sparkle as the silver pendant in our joined
hold.
“This. This is the answer. The solution.”
My heart thumps. The answer? A solution? Does one of those really exist
for me? A necklace with the pendant of a moon on it can’t make it that
simple.
Can it?

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty-Seven

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD, HERE THEY come. Shh! Here they come,”

Hailey squeals, gripping my elbow. Basically, turning my bones into putty
in the process.
We’re at the boys’ last game, and I have no idea why she’s insisting I
shush. The room is packed and literally no one else is not talking or
cheering or doing something.
Rolling my eyes, it’s not enough of an issue to argue over, so I let it go,
following where her head turns instead.
The students in the crowd go wild as soon as the hellhounds make their
appearance. I, however, only have eyes for the one in the dead center.
Leading his teammates with Eli and Finn close behind.
The chants are growing louder, the noise of no interest to Iceman. His
face stays stonelike and expressionless. That strong jawline of his fixed and
stuck in place.
That is until his head turns sharply up in our direction. Cole shoots me
that signature smile only reserved for me. The one that makes my stomach
flip-flop. Every. Single. Time.
The dick does it on purpose and that smirk grows. I don’t bother to
pretend he doesn’t know what I’m thinking. He always does, always has.
Another teammate nudges him, but it doesn’t faze him because he’s
winking and that smile… ugh! This guy will be the death of me.
My misery will become ours if he doesn’t stop and pay attention.
Our spell is broken when he’s tapped again and this time, he does turn
away. His teammate doing me a solid because I’m suddenly too warm.
Hailey’s mouth is already open, and I think she has words at the ready,
but I’m proven wrong. Her teeth snap, unlike her eyes which are oversized.
I shake her, trying to ignite some sort of life back into her but she only
mumbles nothings. They are as garbled as if trying to speak underwater.
“Mind if I take a seat?” the person says at our side, and I go stiff.
Now I understand Hailey’s reaction. It had nothing to do with me and
everything to do with her surprise at who’s near me.
Somehow in the lost time—which is nothing—her eyes have gotten
bigger. Squeaking out another noise as her cheeks flush into a nice shade of
pink.
“Is that a yes?” the person asks, but it’s cute how he almost sounds
nervous. It’s so unlike him.
He’s waiting and I’m not sure if I’m happier he’s here or upset that it’s
taken him this long to finally see his son play.
It shouldn’t matter, because he’s shown. Abram came, and it’s better late
than never. Last game of the hellhounds’ high school careers or not.
Shifting, my neck curves into an almost painful angle as he continues to
stand in the aisle. “Sure, glad you could make it.”
 His grin is awkward because we’ve been having this conversation over
another group of people.
He’s here but he’s late and the gym’s packed full. Hailey and I squished
together in our spot.
Abram’s timidness somehow recirculates those wires that were fried,
jump-starting Hailey back into the world of the living.
Hustling into action with the speed of a jackrabbit, she scoots down.
Uncaring and unbothered that the people beside us are shooting her nasty
looks. Their spots grow smaller while she makes room.
She gives it right back. The middle-aged woman beside us decides better
than to say anything after her expression turns nuclear.
“Listen, Karen,” she says, leaning over. “Can I call you Karen?” Not
bothering to wait on an answer she continues. “This is my best friend’s dad
and he’s here to see his son play for the first time ever. So, you’re not going
to open your mouth about the inconvenience.”
The girl is on a one-woman warpath.
“Got it?” she snaps.
It’s humorous how easily the grown woman cowers. Staring straight
ahead in fear of my ruthless friend. Shoving, she pushes at her husband’s
leg, making room for Abram to pass.
Hmmphing, Hailey crosses her arms, satisfied when he takes a seat at the
newly added spot. Tugging, he pulls at his collar, and I swear he’s the one
blushing now.
I’m used to Hailey’s lively antics, but for someone more renowned like
him, I can see how it could be unsettling at first.
Side-eyeing me, I get the faintest lift of his lip when tip-off’s about to
start. His cheeks are back to their normal color. Understanding dawning
now that he’s found the whole thing amusing.
Oh, Abram, if you only knew.

We’re down, but not out.

One shot and two points are all we need to tie things up. Three and we
earn the trophy and title of champions.
The clock is running down fast. The pressures on the verge of boiling
over. Not a single person sits, everyone stands with the same hyperactive
energy.
Coles got the ball, no Eli. Never mind he can’t find an open shot, so it’s
tossed back to Cole.
This is how it’s been going all night. Back and forth, the other team
making us work for the win. Both sides want it bad.
Briefly, I check the time on the clock. Not much is left.
Back down the court we go. Iceman fakes out his opponent and goes for
the shot instead. The motion causes both him and the other player to react.
Everything happens in slow motion after that. The guy’s arms shoot out.
The crowd tracks the movement of the ball with eagle-eye precision as it
flies. It glides through the air without hazard.
The ref has his whistle already to his mouth and is blowing it. He shouts,
“Foul, number forty-two.”
The ball’s still moving, even as Cole slips from the contact, catching
himself before he goes all the way down. His attention glued like everyone
else’s.
 It’s going… going…
Touching the rim, the basketball bounces. We’ve made contact.
Holy crap, it’s made contact!
I can feel my heart literally stop. Beating only in the rhythmic pattern of
every new bounce.
There’s a chance. We aren’t done yet.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Silence.
The crowd erupts, slowly but then all at once, as everyone turns crazy.
The ball swishes, falling right through the net.
Hailey’s jumping and I’m doing the same. We’re both screaming.
We tied it up.
The energy around us is as momentous as the play itself.
It’s only after I register everything else that I remember a foul was called.
The ref, he’d called it on our opponent, but the ball went in?
“We get the points, but Cole was still fouled so he gets a penalty shot.”
The players are already positioned, lined up below, knowing the drill.
Cole is standing ready, behind the free-throw line.
“One shot,” she clarifies like I didn’t understand the first time. “This will
determine the game.”
Again, she speaks aloud things I already know. The final buzzer had gone
off as soon as the ball left Iceman’s hold.
Hailey’s hands are clasped tightly together, resting under her chin as she
bounces in anticipation. Mumbling, her encouragement pants under her
breath.
 I’m charged and overdrawn, my body hums with quiet exertion.
Hailey reaches for my hand when the strain becomes too much. I take it,
needing it as well.
The ref is under the hoop, eyeing each player individually. We all
understand the pressure of this moment. Everything comes down to this one
final play.
The sound of his whistle being blown is the only noise in the too-quiet
space. Tossing, he gives the ball to Cole, who hardly seems anxious. The
opposite of how a normal person would react. In fact, he’s the most calm
I’ve ever seen him.
Composed as he is confident.
My breath holds, getting stuck in my stomach when he bends his knees
and starts to dribble the ball in warmup.
Those cerulean eyes, clear as they focus on his target, dead ahead. The
burden of this one chance is nothing he’s not used to. His strength in times
of distress makes him that much more attractive.
No one can get to him. Not even if they tried.
He dribbles one last time, feet planted firmly in place, and then…the
ball’s gone.
Gravity suspends it as it floats through nothing, moving closer with every
new go. I want to sigh in relief when I hear that familiar clink as it hits the
rim. Same as earlier, only this time, instead of bouncing, it rolls…
The anticipation is killing me. My blood pumps, working in overtime.
I’m not sure my heart can take much more excitement but then it goes in.
The ball falls through the net beautifully.
A deep exhale of air whooshes out my mouth.
Simple.
 The bright-orange sphere hits the ground. There’s this lull moment where
everyone’s mind has the chance to play catch-up. When it does though and
the finality of it all settles, the crowd erupts all over again.
Somehow louder than the last time if that’s possible.
We won.
The boys won!
Hailey’s pulling me from our spot, and I barely have time to register to
grab Abram’s jacket sleeve, but somehow, I manage. He can’t stay up here;
his son and their team just won the championship.
We won. They fucking did it!
The crowd below beats us onto the court by the time we shuffle through
everyone. A bubble hiccup of a laugh escapes me, spotting him.
My cheeks hurt the wider my grin grows. It’s basically to my forehead
but I don’t care. Those strong arms wrap around just below my thighs, and
I’m spinning and laughing in my excitement.
Lowering me, my fingers wind through his dark hair before settling
around his neck. Watching Cole with nothing but pure admiration. “Do you
know how proud of you I am? You did it, Iceman. You won!”
Unbashful in his abilities, his expression turns cocky. His arrogance is
worn like an invisible crown atop his head. “Don’t tell me you doubted me,
Princess?”
“Never,” I admit, still in awe.
A shiver shakes down my spine with the force of a lit match. My once
enemy’s lips now smashed down to mine. The action is forceful, like he
couldn’t control himself any longer if he tried.
That makes two of us.
 His hot breath traces the seam of my mouth, and my heart rate
accelerates to a dangerous speed, but then he’s pulling away too soon.
The warmness fans my mouth as he gauges me under those thick lashes.
Silently, they laugh, amused by my obvious frustrations.
My bottom lip pokes out in disappointment and his eyes sparkle, savage
like. Cynical as much as he is a tease.
Bastard.
“Seems I’m not the only one who’s gotten caught up in the excitement of
the win,” Cole reports. His chin clipping in the direction past my shoulder.
I hadn’t realized my mouth was open, dangling loosely until Cole put his
fingers underneath my chin. Closing it back up.
We’re both watching the same thing. Only while I’m completely stunned,
he seems almost impressed. His mouth arched in a sly curve.
Finn h-he’s kissing my best friend and she… she’s giving it right back.
When I didn’t think this could get any more overwhelming, Finn removes
one of his hands from his touch on her skin. Taking it from where it’s firmly
placed on Hailey’s jaw and raising it. Fisting it in wordless
accomplishment.
Her eyes spring open, fluttering, while Finn’s are slower to react when
they finally pull apart.
Their mouths may not be locked anymore but that’s all the distance my
brother allows. His stare as wolfish as his desire for her.
All these people around praising him, and he only has eyes for the girl
right in front of him.
How familiar.
Cole tucks me under his arm. Leaning in, his teeth scrape the bottom of
my earlobe. “Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but it seems like you won’t
be the only one scoring tonight,” he muses. Tone as thoughtful as it is
promising.
I choke down the uncertainty of what this means for them until another
body comes into focus. Finn steps out of their hold. Abram is the only thing
shocking enough to break up the lust bubble.
I can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of everything else, and at
first, I wonder if this is a bad idea. Cole’s grip on me firms when I try to
move closer. He holds me back.
Their mouths are moving and then Finn’s arm stretches out between
them. Abram takes it, but then changes his mind last second and pulls him
in. Going for one of those one-armed back pat hugs instead of only a
handshake.
The coiled muscles inside my body unwind at the sight. Sinking further, I
drop into Cole’s side, wrapping my arms as I hug his waist.
We all still have things we’re working through but this is a good start.

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty-Eight

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

I FALL INTO THE couch in a way that most likely looks unflattering to a
lot of individuals, but whatever. I fill the once-empty seat next to Eli
anyway.
All of these people came here to party, not grovel over if I’m being
ladylike or not. Plus, this is my boyfriend’s lake house so there’s no way
I’m conforming. Their entitled asses will just have to get over it.
“What happened to everyone else?”
“Not sure,” he says. “I figured you were with Cole and after Finn’s stunt
from the game, is anyone really surprised he’s missing?”
My nose pinches, his expression knowing as he takes a sip from his red
plastic cup. Guess I shouldn’t be shocked. It at least explains why I haven’t
seen much of Hailey either.
“Is it too presumptuous to assume they’re together now?”
“Nope,” I say, popping the P and then stealing his cup, taking my own
well-deserved drink. “Definitely worth assuming.”
Hailey and Finn. It’s about damn time.
 “So, what about you?”
Eli’s mouth puckers, taking his cup back. “What about me?”
“Anyone catch your eye lately?”
“Rory…” My name comes off like a warning, but I gulp past it.
“Come on. No one? Really?” I refute. “If I remember correctly, there was
something mentioned about a redhead at one time.”
This alcohol is making me bold. I’d only had one cup myself before
coming over here, but it seemed to be working. My brain and my mouth
spark together.
Stupidly I brought up that night. All of us were around the bonfire on our
group trip when Finn wanted to play Truth or Dare. When everything
changed between Cole and me.
“Let it go. It’s nothing.”
I do because he's my friend. But why do I get the distinct feeling that
there should be a “not anymore” added to the end of his sentence? Maybe
it’s the way that heavy sigh pulls past his mouth or how he slouches and
finishes off his drink.
Eli never slouches, he’s all creased cuts and no crooked corners.
Whatever it is, somethings got him in disarray.
I rest my head on his shoulder as a way of solitude. Both of us settle into
watching everyone else around us have fun. The entire school enjoys the
victory of the basketball team’s win.
A while later I feel, before I see, his eyes on me. Stoically Iceman
weaves rather than pushes his way through the crowd. People automatically
do that for him.
The intensity in his gaze hot as it ignites, burning straight past my soul
and into my groin.
 Something else flicks in those embers. Deepening for the split second
they shift to the person beside me.
Iceman’s jaw flexes at the same rate of him getting closer. Passion for me
fuels his speed, or is it something else?
“Come,” he demands, hand on mine already pulling me up from my spot.
“It’s time for you to show me what’s going on underneath my jersey that
you’re wearing.”
He says it like this is a reminder, but for whom?
“Sorry,” I mumble apologetically to Eli over my shoulder. Cole doesn’t
wait as he drags us back through the crowd and up the stairs to the master
suite.
“Clothes. Off. Now,” he demands as soon as the door is locked.
I wet my lips. Excited that I finally have him all to myself after what
feels like an eternity of everyone else getting their desired fill. Every
student wanting to hear firsthand about his game-winning shot.
“What if I don’t want to? What if I like having your name on my back?” I
challenge cheekily. Iceman despises when I refuse him and besides, it’s the
truth.
I doubt after tonight I’ll ever have reason to wear his jersey again, so why
not enjoy it while I can? Savor it for a little while longer.
His upper lip flattens to his mouth. He hates my defiance but also loves it
at the same time.
“Fine, baby, but that’s the only say you’re allowed for the rest of the
night.” Agreeing with a predatory like hunger.
So easily does he succumb.
“Everything else?” He starts as those dark pupils of his dilate, completely
covering those irises the color of ice.
 Stunning even like this. They entrap me.
“I want it all off because I’m about to fuck you. Long and hard, and from
behind. You want my name kept on your back, well...” He smirks and it’s
wicked. “Then you’re just going to have to show me how much that name
means to you.”
My breathing hollows out at the intensity at which he watches me
undress. Doing exactly as he asks. Giving him what he wants.
Me.
Only me.
“Bed. On your knees,” he orders, voice rougher than before. His throat
bobs, swallowing thickly once I’m finished.
I go because this is all I’ve wanted since that very first look, hours ago.
Before the game started. His mouth, his body, all of him. I need it.
“Good girl,” he praises, and I yelp. The sting from his slap on my ass
catching me off guard.
The cold air from the pain does nothing to cool the heat between us.
Groaning, he palms my skin before doing the same to the other cheek.
Humming his approval at his work, satisfied.
“Two hits since you seem so keen on sporting my number, Princess.”
I’d snort if I wasn’t so turned on right now, two is the number on his
jersey. No doubt I’ll find some sort of mark or welt there tomorrow.
That’s not a tonight problem though.
Just when I think I can’t get any more aroused his tongue slays me.
Running from one opening to the next down the center of my butt.
I feel his smirk at my back as shivers rake my entire body. Fuck, I want
him inside me already.
The tease.
 “Mine,” he growls as his tongue claims me once more. Driving me
absolutely delirious with need as his mouth hovers, stalling there at my
opening.
His tone like his attitude, is possessive. No, that’s not it, it almost
sounds… jealous?
He’s been driving me half-mad since earlier and now he stalls dragging
this out. Over what?
Not being able to stand it any longer, I push back, taking what I want and
his arm snakes around my waist with a snarl. His teeth scrape my skin,
using his free arm to spread my thighs wider to better the angle.
Sucking, his mouth finds that glorious spot between my thighs. Finally
providing me with what I want. Feeding the hunger I’ve been begging for.
I’m close… so close…
Suddenly his mouth pulls away. That familiar feeling of euphoria
slipping, gone with the same force as his mouth on me. I want to yell at the
torture.
And I do, somewhat, crying out at another sting from his palm. This one
is closer to the inside of my leg, right below my clit.
“That’s for not listening. We agreed,” he scolds, tsking. “You keep my
jersey on, and I get to decide everything else.”
I gulp, shoving down my disappointment because he’s right.
“Now, fortunately for you. Your impatience has worked in your favor. I
want nothing more than to fuck the disobedience out of you.”
That tension in my core ignites further at his crude words.
“Know though, this one’s for me. All the rest after are for you, pretty girl.
Understood?”
 My teeth clamp at another hit when I don’t answer fast enough. I’m so
fucking turned on. So fucking wet.
“I said, are we clear?” His voice is deep, controlling.
“Yes—”
My eyes widen at the sudden intrusiveness. No sooner do I have the one
word out and he’s entered me. Giving me his whole cock without
repercussions. Guiltless.
Pulling at my hair, he winds it around his fingers, wrapping it before
pulling. My head is angled back enough to restrict my windpipe, but not
enough to cut off the air completely.
Grunting, Cole shifts his hips slightly, angling them with expert
precision. Pumping, they move with furious rigor driving into me.
Pulling, he’s almost all the way out, before he slams right back into me
with the same force as the first time. Over and over again, he does this.
Ruthlessly does he fuck me from behind.
Thankfully, he was considerate enough to of left his one arm around my
waist. It’s the only thing keeping me from collapsing at the force.
This ache, my need grows tighter with each new pleasurable hit.
Eventually, the intensity of his thickness becomes too much, and my eyelids
slam shut as I explode, coming apart underneath him.
Iceman cries out his own surge of bliss, finishing right after. His sweat-
covered chest lands on my back as our bodies shake from the pleasure.
Sweet, hot pleasure.
Fuck. If this round was only for him I’m so screwed.
Literally.

OceanofPDF.com
Twenty-Nine

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

LUNCH IS CALM, JUST another day even as the halls buzz with
excitement and adrenaline from the game. It’s a monotone sound, but very
much alive and breathing. It pulsates everywhere as students wander to and
from class.
The sight of Hailey storming her way into the cafeteria and slamming her
bag down on the table disrupts everything in her process for dramatics.
“Guys, have you heard?” she announces, taking the empty seat next to
Finn like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
He and I are the only two that seem excited about her presence at the
moment. Cole openly shoots her a scowl at being so intrusive. Eli on the
other hand is stuck in his own head and hardly notices.
Chuckling in glee, Finn’s eyes warm, wrapping his hand around her
upper arm as he tugs her closer into his side. Her face goes all gooey when
he pokes at her nose.
I let this go on for a few minutes before my fingers are snapping and I’m
asking—because no one else does—what she had to say when she first
arrived.
I’m the only one who seems to remember her emotional parade in here.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them both. They’re great together but
come on, she disrupted our break from classes for this.
Hailey’s chin meets the floor in embarrassment and Finn shoots me a
glare, not liking her reaction. His posture only goes more rigid when Cole
doesn’t help, snorting into his burger.
Iceman’s reaction sprouting from my reaction. I stick my tongue out at
them both. Not diverted in the slightest.
“Come on, don’t be so stiff,” Cole says, leaning into the crook of my
collarbone. To anyone else, it most likely looks like he’s kissing my neck,
but I know the truth.
He’s scolding me and I want to deck him. Whose side is he on?
As if sensing my strain, he does nip at my pulse point with a soft chuckle.
Taking another bite of his food only after he rights himself.
That chewing slows. I’m still gaping. Humor ever present as it sits, stuck,
in his expression.
Bite me, I wordlessly mouth in protest.
I know I need to relax, not be so snappy, but my lips flatten into a line
anyway. Being ganged up on not something I ever appreciate.
Circumstances be damned.
Everyone’s head turns in Eli’s direction at the scraping sound of his tray
being shoved away.
“Wow, guys, as much as I love being the fifth wheel, I actually have
something to share.” Sarcasm drips, clinging to his every word. He says this
as he sends a special caustic look in Hailey’s direction.
 His comment catches me off guard, I was positive he hadn’t been paying
attention.
“Yeah, well I was going to ask if you all heard about Sammie Davidson
losing her scholarship,” she miffs, peeved.
“That’s it? That’s the whole reason why you came in here all guns-a-
blazing?” I ask at the same time Cole says, “Who the fuck is Sammie
Davidson?”
Hailey cowers, scurrying farther underneath Finn’s arm at our quick
reactions. We have polar opposite tones but we’re a force, nonetheless.
“I thought it was interesting, is all,” Hailey notes. Her usually big voice
now small.
“Anyhoo, Eli, you had news?” Finn mentions, trying to shift the topic off
her. It’s admirable how quickly he is to come to her defense now that
they’re together.
Also, their being together seems to be helping them both. Hailey hasn’t
been as reclusive and shut down with the divorce, and Finn? He can at least
stand to be in the same room as Abram again.
“No, wait—” Hailey cuts in again. “I wanted to bring that up because it
reminded me that I never got the chance to ask. What are everyone’s plans
for college?”
I grip Cole’s thigh under the table. My hold a warning to keep his mouth
shut.
Much to my surprise, he does, but with the unwarranted way in which he
tosses down the last of his burger, his ire doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You know what? Never mind,” Eli mutters, charging from our table.
I’ve never seen him act so impatient. Rash.
 It takes a few minutes of awkward silence, but Hailey surprisingly
doesn’t take anything from my tray. Scooting the more than half-full one Eli
abandoned her way instead.
That’s another good thing in all this. Hailey’s appetite has seemed to
reappear since getting together with Finn.
She isn’t all the way back to her old self. More like when the sun starts to
peek out on an overcast day, but I’ll take it.
We finish the last of lunch without Eli. Hailey had somehow trapped a
reclusive Cole into the topic of college, so much so that she doesn’t notice
how standoffish Finn’s gotten.
Eventually, and it does take a while, I catch his stare. Immediately he
retracts, laughing at something I’m sure he didn’t hear.
Did Hailey know Finn’s been offered a scholarship? Does anyone?

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 Thirty

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“STOP DRAGGING YOUR FEET, you'll scuff the floor.”

“It’s tile,” Finn says, grunting. “I’m sure it’ll find a way to manage.”
Gravely, he stares ahead, showing me exactly how happy he is to be here
after I’d coerced him to come along.
Hardin’s not his most favorite place in the world.
Today’s my day off but I thought it would be nice to bring Abram dinner.
Besides Finn wasn’t doing anything at home but sulking after Hailey
canceled at the last minute, anyways.
Everyone else seemed busy too. Cole’s already here, and Eli wanted to
spend time with his family since his sister’s still home.
I took my shot. Fully guilting him into coming.
The jerk called Hailey up right after, and all but begged to help load up
more boxes with her and her mom. She refused, wanting it to only be the
two of them.
The added sting of rejection on top of another round of denial soured his
mood further. Now I’m stuck dealing with the six-foot-something teenager
who’s acting like a man-baby.
My nostrils flare.
He’s here, that’s all that matters. I have to remind myself of this on our
way up to the top floor.
“Quick question, how do you know so many people?” Finn quizzes while
we wait.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when did you turn into Miss Popular?” he scoffs, peeved when I
don’t instantly understand. “You kept getting stopped. It’s like everyone in
this damn place knows you.”
My forehead pinches. “I work here?”
“You work in the mail room.”
Now my eyes are the ones thinning out.
“I do actually leave that room, you know? I do other stuff than just sit all
day.”
“Okay,” he states, tone unconvinced. “You do realize they’re all only nice
to you because they know who you’re related to, right?”
I gape. “You did not just say that.”
Finn lifts a shoulder, nonchalant. “It’s the truth.”
My teeth grit. “Fine, but if that’s true how many people besides the
doorman said hello to you on our way up here?”
That long blunt line of his jaw firms the longer he takes to answer. I’m
also pretty sure his cheek twitched, but I’m too busy smirking to be sure I
didn’t imagine it.
“Who cares?” he surmises, coming off aggressive after stalling a handful
of seconds too long.
 “Uh, the people who work here? Everyone deserves the right to feel
included if they want that.”
He dismisses me with a flick of his wrist.
Finn isn’t getting it.
“Would you want to work somewhere where it feels like you don’t have a
voice? Like your opinion doesn’t matter?”
My armor is on now, ready to handle whatever verbal disagreement he’s
got. I thought he and Cole understood this better than anyone? He’s the one
who has a scholarship offered to him for crying out loud.
The very same one who said he couldn’t take it because of Hardin and his
responsibilities to this company. How’s he not getting it?
“People here knew of you before they did me, but how many of them
were comfortable enough to start a conversation? Ask you about your day?
Discuss work because they want to and not because you know the boss?”
“Why should I care?”
My hands start to tremble in frustration, so I fist the bag with our food.
Imagining it was a limb on Finn and not a paper bag.
“You should care because those people are a direct reflection of you and
Hardin. You should care because it’s the fair thing to do.”
“Fair?” he scoffs on a dead sound. “When have you or I ever been given
a fair hand, Rory?”
Ouch! That one comment hits me like a punch straight to the jugular.
Why are we fighting right now? We’re supposed to be on the same team.
Aren’t we?
The elevator doors open—thankfully—and we walk into Abram’s office
with a charged silence. Our personalities more than lackluster by the time
he has the chance to greet us.
 “Well, aren’t you both chipper?” he teases, but when neither of us cracks
a smile, the look melts right off his face.
I notice how Finn keeps his attention on the windows behind his desk.
Unwilling to meet anyone directly with that frigid stare.
“Are you joining or is this a drop-off only?”
My brother does his best to ramble off an excuse, even as he continues to
refuse to look at either of us.
Abram isn’t having it. “I would love for you both to stay. I could use a
break anyway.”
I’ve already taken a seat by the time Finn slowly sinks down into the one
beside me. Most likely because he remembers I drove, so he’s stuck here
unless he wants to wait in rush hour traffic in a rideshare.
“Here, Abram, I saw these left on the copier and figured you forgot about
them,” Cole says, entering without knocking.
If our intrusion has caught him off guard, it doesn’t show. Iceman
smoothly moves around the space, setting the papers on his desk.
“Oh, thank you. I’m afraid I’ve been a little scatterbrained recently.” He
says chuckling to himself as Cole rounds back.
“No worries,” he replies, shooting me a secret wink before he leaves
completely.
I don’t have to touch my cheeks to know I’m flushed because I’m hot all
over. Fully remembering what Iceman did to me in this very spot, that one
time his father intruded while we were all sharing a meal then too.
That’s what that wink was about. A secret knowing.
“What about you, Finn? Think you’re ready?” Abram asks and I’m
grateful for the distraction even though it’s not directed at me.
“For what?” he responds, his tone filled with straight ice.
 I arch an eyebrow, curious as well on what Abram’s referring to.
“Joining your sister and Cole. Start making your appearances more
regular around here? Get a better feel of Hardin?”
If looks could kill, I’d already be dead with the glare Finn shoots over in
my direction. “Did you set this up?” His voice is low but it’s one bad exhale
away from going nuclear.
“What? No—”
“Your sister had nothing to do with this,” Abram defends. “Seeing Cole
reminded me of how well he’s been doing. The same discipline could look
good on you too.”
Finn’s cheeks hollow out, and I’m sure if he were a dragon, fire would be
spewed as well. He says nothing though, quietly simmering in his spot.
“Basketball season is up, and I know you want to spend time with your
friends and your new girlfriend but—”
“—Fine,” Finn says, cutting him off.
“What?”
Abram’s face contorts, and I can almost guarantee mine is holding the
same questionable shock. Neither of us were expecting him to give in so
easily. So willingly.
“I said I’ll do it,” he clips out.
“Son, that’s great.” Abram exudes, flabbergasted but overjoyed,
nonetheless.
Finn’s feet slide out as he slouches further down in his chair. Fisting the
wadded-up napkin he’d made into a ball like one of those squishy stress
toys. Open and close does his hand move around the object.
His stare stays fixed on nothing when he adds, “Can’t wait.”
OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-One

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

“I HATE THIS!”
“Wow, haven’t heard that sentence in about ten seconds. I think that’s
your personal best,” I deadpan, never raising my head up from the
documents below.
“Shut up, C,” Finn retorts, vexed.
I click my teeth. “Do you want me to try and explain it to you again?”
I mean for it to come off as helpful—well as beneficial as I can, without
it coming off as degrading. That’s a hard one for me.
Finn exhales roughly. “I’ll figure it out.”
This is the same thing that’s been happening since he started working at
Hardin. He’ll get frustrated, complain, refuse help, and then in about thirty
minutes he’ll give in. Then and only then will he let me break it down for
him.
To be fair, he’s not doing bad, just… struggling. Every day it becomes
more and more apparent that he loathes this.
 Is it only Hardin though? That small voice inside that I almost never
listen to tells me it’s not. But I mean, if it’s not that, it’s most likely the
sharing a father thing, or Lorna still being MIA.
Morally insane adult.
Eli’s tried keeping us updated but that’s hard to do when there’s nothing
new to share. Weeks have gone by. Weeks.
“I can’t do this,” Finn says, shoving the papers away. His head dips,
dropping between his hands which are now secured to the back of his neck.
Collecting them as I restraighten the mess, I say, “It’s not a big deal. Let
me show you again.”
“No,” he asserts, lifting his chin. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I should be
on the court. Practicing. Getting ready.”
A mixture of reprieve and stress seeps from his airways as he eyes me.
“Ugh, this is so stupid,” he complains, throwing his back into the couch
we’d been working at. It’s comfier than the hard back of the chairs so we’d
shifted to this side of the room about an hour ago.
“What’re you talking about?” I ask slowly, calmly.
That knowing voice inside my head grows louder, and I tell it to shut the
fuck up so I can hear what Finn has to say.
“I hate this.”
“You’ve mentioned that.” Only about a thousand times.
Biting down on my tongue, I taste blood to keep myself from adding that
last part. Upsetting him would only drag this out longer and he’s being
spacy as is.
My tolerance most days hangs by a thin cord which doesn’t help the
situation either.
 “I got a scholarship,” he blurts out. Rising, he paces to the window
before coming back. “Coach helped,” he hiccups, holding back his
excitement. “But a school wants me. A really good school. They want me to
come and play for them next year.”
This is the happiest and not stiff I’ve seen him in a minute. One word
tumbles, rolling into the next like he can’t believe he’s gotten it as well.
Sharply that glee is replaced with clear-cut clarity. His eyes meet mine
and they hold there. “I want to take it.”
I see the certainty in the way he doesn’t blink, absolute in his choice.
He’d made the decision already but felt the need to push out the words
anyway.
Probably needing to hear it for himself over anything.
Tapping the edge of the pen to my mouth, it lifts in the faintest of smiles.
So, Finn’s gotten himself a full ride. I’m proud, he’s a stupendous athlete,
but my bigger concern right now is why the secrecy?
I continue to watch as he breathes life back into himself, stuck standing
in his spot. The longer I observe the more it becomes clear that this is
something that’s been weighing on him.
His eyes ping-pong back and forth, brows so close together you could
confuse them for being one. The straight line of his shoulders goes slack,
not as stiff anymore. Finally, the lines at the corners of his lids straighten
out too.
His face is lit up like a tree glowing at Christmas.
“I’m going to do it. I’m gonna go for it. I don’t care anymore.”
“Good,” I agree, and I can tell my reaction startles him. “Go for it.
You’ve always been the best player on the team.”
 I may have been voted captain, but in spite of that, he’s undoubtedly the
best. One of the top scorers of the season.
“I know,” Finns says. Mouth hooking to one side, cocky all of a sudden.
“Alright,” I deride on a laugh. “Calm it down.”
“This,”—he starts, pointing at the papers with disgust—“I’m not
supposed to be doing this. Basketball is what I understand. Not processing
contracts or documents for business deals.”
My breath turns jagged, a pang hitting my chest. His family at least has a
say in the company, whereas mine is trying to solve where it went.
Silas has been playing nice since Abram threatened to go public. Him
pretending like everything’s the same as of now, like our shares never
disappeared. He’s been gracious enough to let my father continue to work
every day the same as before.
Poof! Gone into thin air is our half.
Transferred out somehow… or by someone.
This is a whole other mystery in itself. One Silas you can bet, is doing
everything in his power to figure out where they went.

Shaking, my head whips to the side. Snapping back in the direction behind
me. My feet come to an equal abruptness of a halt as I pass Silas’s office.
Hearing the agitation as it rolls off my father’s tongue in the form of words
has me coming to a dead stop.
Normally this isn’t anything new. The man knows how to sniff out
weaknesses like it’s a pastime.
 Peeking through the crack of the door, I’m silently praising Finn for not
closing it all the way earlier when he left. We opted for the quiet in Abram’s
office instead.
The couch in his office, did I mention that? Not as firm, you actually sink
into Abram’s cushions instead of landing down on what feels like a solid
slab of wood.
The smoke of the glass wall may be clear because the doors aren’t all the
way closed, but at least the door itself is solid wood.
Silas’s expression is almost tight, which is saying a lot for him. Speaking,
he’s more energetic than a dog in heat.
Stretching out his arm he checks the time on his watch, nodding as if the
other person can see him. He looks on the verge of suffering an aneurysm.
Fingers crossed.
His eyes pinch before he growls, literally snarls at the person on the other
end.
“What’re you talking about? Those are my accounts too. Give me access
to them.” Silas’s face is weathered and fierce. “I want access to them, it’s
my right.”
What the fucking fuck?
Access? To what? Is he talking about Hardin? He has to be. Who else
would willingly share an account with him?
“Montgomery,” he threatens, fuming now.
Montgomery? As in Madison’s father? As in the head of one of the
largest bank branches in the country? The very same one that Hardin has
holdings with?
I charge back through the door directly beside Silas’s, not bothering to
hear the rest. I’ve heard everything I need to. My father wants something
but for some reason, he isn’t getting entry.
My guess? He no longer can because we don’t have any shares in our
name. We lost those. Either way, it doesn’t matter because whatever he
wants, I want it first.
“Get up,” I bark, and Finn rises from his spot as if on autopilot to my
command.
“Is everything alright?”
My senses are heightened, and my flesh tingles all over with awareness. I
haven’t decided if it’s the good or bad kind yet, but I don’t get the chance
to.
Silas Kellet has always thought he has some sort of one-up on everyone.
Well, he’s not the only one who learned to run before he could walk.
I’m like a fuse to a bomb, I’m so amped up on adrenaline right now.
“We’re going to see Madison.”

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Two

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

“TELL ME WHY WE’RE doing this again?”

I’ve already explained it twice, but Finn seems to be having trouble
comprehending the severity of this. Silas wants something and if he wants
it, that means it’s important.
We can’t wait until tomorrow at school and hope to run into Madison. We
need answers now and as much as it irks me to go about it this way, she’s
the best shot we have.
Besides if we go directly to the source and by that, I mean her house
there will be less prying, curious eyes lingering like if this was done at
KPA.
My knuckles have turned white the longer I continue to grip the steering
wheel.
Rolling my shoulders back, I enlighten him again. “Silas seemed positive
about some sort of account.” Or file or stock. I’m not exactly sure about the
specifics.
“So what? We’re going on a hunch?” Finn presses, flustered.
 I can’t be mad at him because if I were in his shoes, I’d probably react
similarly. This is a long shot.
“I can’t explain it, okay? I know there’s something here. Something we
aren’t understanding.”
I know how I sound. I sound desperate but that’s how I feel. If Finn could
have heard him on the phone, he’d understand better.
Silas isn’t someone who’s easily thrown down, but he seemed truly
desperate back there.
I don’t turn my head, but I can feel his eyes on me. A thread of caution
crosses his vocals as he speaks. “And you’re sure about this?”
My nods are clipped but definite and it’s all that’s needed because as
soon as I do, I hear his breath of surrender.
The noise is so much more than that though. The anger that he’s been
fighting for control over for so long vanishing like a solid weight of steel on
his chest.
This was Finn letting go. Not holding on to this grudge against me or
Abram. It’s him finally accepting everything for what it is, us blood related
by technicality.
Words aren’t needed because I knew it with every fiber of my being to be
true. Him tagging along, trusting me now even as he has his own
reservations, that’s more than enough. It says he’ll have my back, same as
before. Same as always.
That’s my friend and now…my brother.
A stab of relief I didn’t know I needed hits my heart. The tension of our
reality gliding away as easily as my car’s tires roll along the Montgomerys’
paved driveway.
It’s as simple as that. Us being back to how things were before all this.
 We’re going to be okay.
Knowing this adds to my fuel as I park the car and we storm the front
door of her house.
I’m working on autopilot, reeling over the moment of unity in the car. It’s
a good thing Finn’s a half step ahead of me because he knocks, whereas I’d
have barged right through.
Opening the door, I’m as stunned as Finn that Madison’s actually the one
who answers. Her reaction is jerky, like she’d been expecting someone else,
only she ended up disappointed when she got us instead.
She recovers quickly, but that’s nothing new. Neither is her crossing her
arms as she leans into the wood frame so that her tits push higher up in the
process.
“Well, what do we have here?” she taunts, teeth sucking on an over-
glossed lip. It almost seems to come off forced. Her gaze averts past the pair
of us several times like there should be someone else with us. Like she
anticipated someone else…
My eyes go to the sky. I don’t have time for this.
“Is your father home?”
She doesn’t flinch right away at my no-nonsense attitude, but her
eyebrows do that quirk thing like she can’t smooth them out fast enough.
Usually, when Madison spits out words, I tend to ignore them, but tonight
is different. The more she throws out the better.
Too bad for us, she doesn’t seem in the mood to play helpful.
“Is he or not,” Finn says, biting back a smile that’s not a smile at all.
She squints one eye at me. Cautious as she rightfully should be, even if
it’s as inconvenient as hell for us.
 Her bottom lip puckers, and that’s when I know. My lids close out of my
own frustration because she’s not going to help. This was a waste of time.
“You know, I’m surprised. You never had to knock before,” Madison
purrs. It’s the blunt tip of her fingernail as she runs it, scraping as it moves
across my chest that has them snapping back open.
Finn’s neck rolls at the contact. He’s suddenly as uncomfortable as I am
at her bluntness.
If the roles were reversed and I saw another man hitting on my girl like
Madison’s unbashful in doing to me, I’d lose it. And I almost do, my hand
goes ironclad, squeezing with too much strength around hers.
She’s messing with me, I see it. Pretend, that’s all this is. Flirting in the
hopes that it’ll distract me enough to not notice the hurt in her eyes. Shining
they glisten with the truth she tries to hide.
Pain. Madison’s in pain.
Lucky for her Finn doesn’t seem to catch on that it’s a skit, a scam.
“How did you manage to put up with that for so long?” His distaste is
evident.
Finn’s sliced words cutting in, are the only thing that has my grip
loosening. That nice shade of purple her fingers started to turn settling back
to a normal shade after I let go.
Madison sharply draws her wrist to her chest, hugging it there
protectively, as it that’ll do anything.
She stares us down long and hard. The silky personality gone as quick as
it arrived. Are we finally able to get down to business?
“My father’s not home,” she says. Grin as tight as her gaze.
“When will he be back?”
 “Sorry, my parents told me I’m not allowed to talk to strangers when they
aren’t home.”
The door is on the verge of being slammed in our face, and it would have
had my foot not caught it at the last possible second.
She swings it back open with a force I hadn’t realized she was capable of.
“What? What do you want? Go home.”
“We need help.”
“We need a Montgomery’s help,” I specify, adding after Finn.
That intrigues the blistering wound that is her mind, as the door widens
back open an inch farther.
“Has your father ever shown you how they manage accounts at the
bank?”
“Has he shown you anything other than how to max out a credit card?”
Finn taunts right after.
I shoot him a glare. Not. Helping.
He backpedals, tone less degrading. Almost somewhat normal. “We
mean do you know how to get into them? He’s had to have shown you
something.”
She points with her chin. “And if I do?”
“We need you to get us into them,” I push, sounding too invested, but it’s
because I am. We’re getting somewhere and I don’t want to lose the
momentum.
Her mouth screws to one side and I’m sure we have her until, “you know
that’s illegal, right?”
“Not if it’s in our families’ names. We should have access.” Correct?
Of course, it’s correct.
 My hands start to shake at my sides, but I fist them before anyone can
see. The darkness outside helps but the trembling is out of my own
frustrations. The longer she stays saying nothing, the more erratic the
movement becomes.
For a moment, Madison’s expression almost turns thoughtful, and I think
she’s going to help us. Or at the very least give us some sort of information
that could be useful, but I’m wrong.
Dead wrong.
The gust of air hits us with the same force that I’m sure Madison is proud
of herself for accomplishing in her unnecessary theatrics. It is the direct
result of the aftermath of the door being slammed right in our faces.
This time it’s for good. The soft sound of a click following shortly after,
telling.
“Well,” Finn says, sounding doubtful. “Do we have a plan B?”
Shit.

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Three

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“WHY ARE YOU WALKING so fast?”

This is the fastest I’ve seen Finn pick up his feet in a while. The only
other time he moves this way is up and down a basketball court.
It’s like he’s gotten a second wind, the motion bazaar, and coming out of
thin air. I can barely manage to keep up with his long strides through
Hardin.
“You know, I’m really getting tired of chasing people down,” I grumble
on his heels.
“So don’t. Go to the mail room,” he says, not missing a beat and it causes
my muscles to clench.
The entire day he’s been acting finicky, but it’s only gotten worse on the
drive over. It puts me that much more on edge. Especially because he won’t
tell me what this is about. Cranking up the music louder anytime I
mentioned anything he didn’t want to talk about.
Typical.
 “What’s making you sprint like you have ants crawling up your ass?” I
quiz, wheezing. I’m the one who’s actually on the verge which is saying a
lot because I run a ton.
“You were right.”
Of course, I was but… “What are you talking about?”
A nice bead of perspiration is starting to seep down my back.
“After last night and then the whole Madison thing with Cole and me
going over to her house…” He shakes away the memory like it was a bad
smell. “I decided it’s time for me to tell Dad I’m going to take the
scholarship.”
Although I’m happy that he’s about to do this and that he’s using the term
dad again—which I doubt he even notices—this clears up some of his edgy
behavior.
The first part however is what’s got me stalling.
“Wait, what? Backtrack a bit.” I’m gonna need Finn to rewind. They
went and saw Madison last night? Why?
“I want to play basketball,” he clarifies, not understanding that that’s not
what I want an explanation on.
Why hasn’t Cole told me this? At the very least mentioned it in passing.
Finn’s a good fifteen feet ahead of me by this point, but that’s because I
now also have my phone out and am texting Iceman. Sure, he’s here
somewhere but I need him to know we need to talk.
I’m winded, but I push through as I multitask. In fact, it’s the shrill sound
of my voice as it hitches in the air that has Finn glancing back over his
shoulder.
“Why do you look like you’re about to keel over and die?”
“I dunno, Finn. The altitude?” I mock.
 His eyes crinkle.
“Alright, time to use your big boy words and tell me what’s going on,” I
wheeze. Sure, I texted Cole and he will be telling me himself later, but I
need something now.
“You’ll find out in a few seconds,” he says dramatically. Swinging his
arms in the direction of Abram’s office. Urging me to continue, he’s too
caught up in his own mind to understand I was again referring to the whole
Madison thing.
Plus, the added emphasis of the rotating his arm like he was winding up
for a pitch an unnecessary addition.
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.” More pressed to know
about last night.
He scoffs, “It’s not that big of a deal, alright? Besides, it was basically a
dead end but I’m sure Cole can tell you all about it. Later.” His agitation
rolls, building like a tide of waves the longer I make him wait this out.
“Now. Let’s go.”
With no choice, seeing as I’m not getting my way, I follow. The one
positive is at least his speed has nuked down a bit, giving my breath the
chance to catch up.
The milky glass is on full display, meaning he’s in his office. Great for
Finn because after a full day’s worth of classes, I think he’d combust if he
had to wait any longer to share the news.
“I want to play basketball!”
No hesitation, no remorse. Just like that, he was all in.
Taking another step inside, his voice is calmer than the ricocheting sound
of the door he shoved himself through.
 Gulping, he says, “I got a scholarship and I’m going to take it. I want to
play basketball. It’s my dream. My passion.”
“I’ll call you back,” Abram says numbly. Clicking end to whoever most
definitely heard Finn’s declaration through the speaker.
His shoulders are squared. Eyes stern but drawn, staring down Abram at
where he’s stuck, stunned to his seat.
My heart swells because even if for some bizarre reason Abram hadn’t
heard him it’s hard to miss the bold confidence that’s bloomed in his resolve
to share the news.
There’s an awkward silence. Finn’s heaves of air grow more sporadic the
longer Abram doesn’t move, doesn’t shift, doesn’t do anything but watch
him. I could be invisible, and I feel like I am.
I’m not sure what he’s looking for but if Abram’s eyeing him for doubts
he won’t find any.
“I’m not going to complain, I admit I enjoy seeing both my children
here…” There’s a but, there’s always a but. I can tell Finn senses it too,
catching the small pause. “But…” There it is. “You have to be respectful,
this is a business. Hardin is a company.”
My head shoots back. That’s not at all what I expected to come out of his
mouth. Is Abram upset that we interrupted work? Pushing that over his own
son’s happiness?
“Abram—Dad,” Finn corrects sharply, and my nerves fire off at the
adjustment.
Okay so maybe he was aware of what he’d said earlier.
“I’m not destined for Hardin like you. I’m meant to be on a court, with a
basketball.”
 The desperation in his tone rattles me. Every fiber of my being wants to
jump in and further defend him, but I plant my feet instead. This is Finn’s
battle, his war.
“You have an amazing opportunity. Here. At Hardin.”
Finn’s head is already shaking before he has time to finish. “I tried, Dad.
I gave it a shot for you but all it did was prove to myself more than anything
that this isn’t for me.”
“And what will happen to Hardin then? You were born to fill this spot.”
Abram’s hand waves, emphasizing his spot at his desk. “Have my seat.”
Finn’s jaw tics and then he says, “Hardin should go to Rory.”
My mouth goes slack. What the hell?
“She has good ideas, is diligent, and most importantly, the people like
her. They respect her,” he splutters on, so sure of what he’s saying.
My chest jackhammers at the same time my breath stalls.
This wasn’t supposed to be about me and yet somehow, it’s turned into
that.
“I’ve seen it, and you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” Finn takes
another step forward. “That’s what you should want. Someone like her
filling your shoes. I have no doubt that she’d be able to lead Hardin to
success. The same way you have.”
A liveliness, as well as sadness, settles in Abram’s observation.
“Although I applaud your efforts and congratulate you on the
achievement, I’m not sure that’s your call to make, son.”
“But—”
“—I need to get back to work.” His fingers are already on the receiver of
the desk phone, dialing back whoever he was talking to before. “You have
things I had the secretary bring in for you to sort through.”
 Is Abram denying him?
“Did you not hear what he said?” I shoot out, fire in my lungs. I ignore
that last part of the conversation because, one, it’s too surprising, and
second, this is about Finn. “He wants to play basketball.”
“Rory, you also have work to do. Now go. Both of you.”
I’m not at all stunned by his callous, dead reaction. Abram is dismissing
us, treating me the same way that summer when he abandoned me. Finn,
however, looks like he’s wilted into the floor.
His features crumble before they suddenly steel back over. I’m done but
it doesn’t seem that my brother is.
“You told me yourself, that night we won, you thought I was incredible.
Gifted, even.” He notes as his features pull, tightening at every angle in
disbelief.
“And you are… but right now, there are tasks that need to be completed,”
Abram defends, unyielding. Fully shutting us both out as he apologizes to
the person in the receiver for hanging up so abruptly.
“Fucking bullshit,” Finn huffs under his breath. Snatching up the
documents left for him and storming back out of the room.
I’d like to say I hoped this to have gone better but I’m not entirely
surprised. Finn may not have ever seen Abram this heartless, but I had
firsthand experience.
Time eases the burden but the bruise that’s left is a solid reminder of who
put those wounds there in the first place.

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Four

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“CHRIST, WHAT DID THAT locker ever do to you?” I ask, wandering

over as Finn kicks it shut.
“It forced me to have a place to put my stupid books. So that I could get a
stupid education. So that I could go to stupid college. So that one day I
could then get an even stupider job working at Hardin. It’s all so…”
“Stupid?” I question when he finally pauses long enough to take a much-
needed breath.
“Exactly,” he sputters. Unaware of my overt sarcasm.
I pat his shoulder when he spins, sagging against the metal and waits for
me. Classes are done for the day and everyone’s getting ready to go home.
“I should be playing basketball,” he grumbles to no one in particular.
“Hate to break it to you, but a lot of athletes still get an education even
though that’s their dream,” I remind him sympathetically, grabbing my
textbook.
His head and his shoulder roll never lifting from the lockers. That
lopsided, goofy grin he’s shooting has me groaning.
 I’m not going to like this.
“Whatever it is, Finn, the answer is already no.”
“Come on,” he whines.
“I said no,” and I mean it. That look is only good for… nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
“Here me out, lil sis,” he says. “Besides, you basically owe me, I
inherently defended you yesterday.”
I can feel the gawk in my own expression. That’s how stunned I am. His
certainty in this one gesture knows no bounds.
Is he hearing himself right now? Were we in the same room when Abram
all but threw us out? Or did he miss the part where he seemed about as
excited at that idea as he did him playing basketball next year?
“Fine, what is it?” I ask, sagging in a similar gesture to his.
“What if—”
“No.”
Harrumphing, his mouth droops. “You’re the worst,” he states, rotating
his body back forward. “I mean, what’s the use in having siblings if they
aren’t willing to do what you want.”
I close my locker with a grin. “Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“I mean, all I was going to ask you to do is talk to Abram. One on one.
For me.”
My eyebrows lift to my hairline. In what world does that sound like a
good idea?
“You’d have better luck convincing a dog he’s a cat than that happening,”
I say. The words sprouting from my mouth before I could stop them.
“Why wouldn’t he?”
 “Uh, I don’t know, maybe because this is the longest amount of time I've
spent with him in the last eighteen years of my life?”
Whereas he’s known you since the day you were born, I want to add but
figure it’s unnecessary. My duh tone giving that one away.
Unlike earlier, this time he does catch on to my mockery and his lips
form a flat line in response. I mean, it’s fair. It is hard to miss the blatant,
so-obvious-it-hits-you-in-the-face-with-it’s-obtuse-wittiness sarcasm.
He points a finger. “Okay, first. Unnecessary, and two, we may have
shared a house, but that didn’t mean he was always in it. He traveled a lot.”
“And thus, all the need for parties?” Remembering how when I first met
Hailey, she’d told me the Caspers’ house was known for them.
“That was before, besides I thought you guys were getting better? Aren’t
you like, decent now?”
“Decent?” Not exactly what everyone dreams of when describing a
father-daughter relationship.
“You know what I mean,” he says, dismissing my apprehension.
“Besides, you two are more alike than you realize.”
Finn sounds so positive that it’s hard to disagree and I find myself asking,
“How so?”
“I meant what I said the other day. You would be the best person to run
Hardin.”
There’s that swelling feeling that settles back again. I hate how matter of
fact it comes off. It settles right between my ribs and those pulsating things
underneath them.
“Do I need to remind you that I only work in the mail room?” Not that it
matters because if there was a line, Finn would’ve already jumped it.
“Potato, tomato.”
 I chuckle, rolling my eyes. As if that clarifies everything.
“You ready to go?”
“To go to another soul-sucking night of torture? Sure, why not?” he
deadpans.
“It’s not that bad.” I nudge him as we make our way to the parking lot.
“Besides. You could always talk to him. Try again?” Praying my words
come off persuasive, I’m hopeful he’ll take my advice.
“Funny,” Madison’s voice falls in step with our strides, even though no
one asked.
How does she do this appearing act so well? It’s like she has a gift for
knowing when to be around when absolutely no one asks her to be.
Which to be fair is usually most of the time.
“That’s all Cole said he wanted from me the other night. Well, before he
nearly took the door off its hinges, barging into my house,” she pivots
snarky.
“That’s not how it went down, and you know it.” Finn refutes with a
grunt.
“Guess you have a thing or two to teach your sister. Seems she doesn’t
know what it takes to keep a hellhound sated and satisfied.”
“Gross,” Finn responds with a shiver.
Beaming, Madison smirks, unconcerned or offended. Her bitch mode a
hundred-percent charged and active.
“Are you done? Or are you going to continue to throw yourself out to
everyone and make yourself more willing and available than you already
have?”
That look of Finn’s is telling, knowing of something somehow.
 Before I can ask what, he’s snatching at the book that was pressed against
my chest.
Flipping to a random page, he points, adding, “Yep, there it is. Next to
Madison right here it says, desperate.”
I don’t bother trying to hide my laugh, because for one he’d taken my
math book instead of a dictionary. Next, her expression has turned from
confident to nuclear in less time than it takes for a grenade to go off.
The shrewd factor of her nasty odometer going berserk.
Her nose pinches like I’m a bad smell as I step into her. Lowering my
voice because this is only for her. “Cole told me exactly why he came over
and it had nothing to do with looking for a hookup. Stop kidding yourself.”
The color drains from her face and goes straight to her neck.
“He came to you because he was serious. He thought you could help.” I
sneer and it’s as ruthless and spiteful as I feel. “But that would mean you
actually have to care about someone other than yourself. That’s impossible
though, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” she threatens. Looking as
if she’s on the verge of either clawing off my eyelids or slamming hers
closed.
I don’t bother trying to figure out which.
She bares her teeth; guess she decided on the claws. “As your brother
mentioned…” Her eyes momentarily flick back in his direction. “I already
gave them my answer the other night.” Her tone carries a bite even as her
chin starts to wobble.
“Want to know the difference between you and me?”
She blinks, but it’s hard.
 My lip curls in disappointment. For everyone. She for not being willing
to help, and Cole for not getting this one advantage.
“I know when to put my pride aside.” My tone is cold and stabbing as I
finish off my sentence.
Madison’s head straightens upward and then she’s shoving through us in
her urge to get away. I let her go. She invited herself into this conversation
and she’s fully allowed to exit in the same matter.
The only thing upsetting is the pang that hits my chest as I climb behind
the wheel. I wish she’d change her mind.
I want Cole to have answers, he deserves them.

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Five

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“IT’S TIME FOR HOS before bros. I need your help.”

“The day you don’t charge into a room like you have a hive of bees
chasing you I’ll be concerned.” I say eyeing Hailey over my book.
She gives me a droll stare in response. Her shoes barrel to a stop as she
throws multiple somethings down on the table.
I don’t bother to look down at whatever it is because there would literally
be no point, she’s going to tell me in…
Three.
Two.
One…
“Okay, bestie, these are all the schools I’m willing to attend with you
next fall.”
I peek over at the librarian. The distress etched on her face is comical as
she continues to shoot lasers at Hailey’s back.
I can’t decide if she’s mad because we’re in the school library and
Hailey’s hardly ever good at keeping quiet. Or that she banged both her
things and the door enough to make the poor woman blush.
Even when Hailey isn’t looking for attention, she manages to find it.
“What are you doing in here?” I whisper-shout. Humor leaps in my
voice.
“I told you, it’s hos before—”
“—Got it, got it,” I interrupt before Miss Cataloger at the counter has a
stroke.
“You mean, ‘Thank you, Hailey, for being the best friend in the entire
world and for doing all the hard work for you.’” Her tone is always
naturally so dramatic but there’s a difference to it this time.
My throat is suddenly thick and heavy as she fists the corners of the
table. Her nails scrape the bottom as she waits with elbows straight like a
line drawn with a ruler.
Her chin tucks. The action is clear. Looking down, I wait, not giving in
right away. Somehow knowing I would be hesitant.
Brochures.
College brochures.
That saliva in my mouth pools as it thickens to the size of a grapefruit.
For everyone else here at KPA, college is an easy, natural solution after
graduation. Point a finger and you’ll most likely get in, whereas I didn’t
grow up with that. Most of my life I’d never been afforded the luxury.
Opportunity, options, futures… those are only for the wealthy.
Seeing all these choices petrified me if I’m being honest. Not because
I’m worried about losing my friends, not seeing Finn, or missing Cole.
This is about me.
Understanding and accepting that this is my life now. A hard thing to do
when I’ve only ever had myself for so long.
 Hailey’s eyes widen. The sharp tilt of her chin turning more prudent
when I don’t automatically move. I don’t bother to shuffle through the pile.
Doing that would make this all the more real, when I only ever thought of
it as a dream.
Coaxingly she softly nudges me into submission, as I don’t bother to hide
my reluctance. There’s no point. This is a big deal, a huge decision.
She may not see it this way, but it’s how I discern it.
I’m equal parts thrilled and terrified. By going through these, it means
I’m giving in. I’m doing this, I’m going to college.
My fingers throb, pulsating as I pick one up. The pristine arches and
decorated achievements on this one make my heart pound.
Setting it down, I reach for another, and then another after that and before
I know it, I’ve gone through the entire stack. Hailey watches the whole
time. Not swaying me one way or the other.
This is my decision. My future…
I don’t deserve her.
“Sooo, have we made a decision?” Hailey asks with a sly grin after a
beat.
I become aware that I’ve been holding this one the longest. My mind
imagining myself there as soon as I’d seen the arched peaks and smooth
columns. It was like a puzzle finding its piece, only in this case I didn’t
know one was missing.
In the picture, the yellow-orange leaves from the trees around the quad
plunge to the ground. Fall. Students are hanging out, smiling, and instantly I
knew this is where I wanted to go. This is the school for me.
I want to go here so badly I can almost taste that first sip of coffee as I
rush off between buildings now, sitting here while Hailey continues to ogle
me.
“Do we have a winner?” she beams, squealing out her enthusiasm.
Getting closer, she presses her cheek to mine so she can see which one I
picked.
Pulling it from my grasp, those chirps go from muffled—quiet for her—
to over the top. Beaming, she’s positively beaming, stuck in her own daze
now.
Flutters sprout like a volcano erupting inside my stomach. I’m as giddy
as she is. I never imagined something like this for myself.
“This school looks amazing, but did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
Her head snaps up. Bottom lip popped out from where she’d been
sucking on it with her teeth. Admiring the cover of the brochure as well.
Sure, when I’d seen Finn’s acceptance letter, I’d only seen the school’s
name and logo. I never took the extra time to research more outside that,
but dang. Seeing it firsthand in that pamphlet it’s hard to imagine myself
going anywhere else.
The school looks amazing and everything I could ever dream of in the
process. Besides, having my brother and Hailey around wouldn’t be so bad
either.
Cole, I’m not too worried about.
I doubt he cares, because why would he? It’s never mattered. His only
option has been to prepare to take over for his father one day so he’d most
likely tag along wherever everyone else went.
Eli, well the choice is up to him, same as everyone else but I wouldn’t be
mad if he decided to join as well.
Hailey bats her eyelashes innocently and I can’t help but laugh. Her
attempt at playing it off innocent-like, impossible. She’s too easy to read.
 “Weird how every other one of these is within four hours of that school.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She miffs, lifting a shoulder
in the same way as her nose. Nonchalant.
“Sure, sure,” I ridicule even as I continue grinning.
She clears her throat, tone dropping an octave. “Just so we’re clear, I
would’ve been alright with any of these choices.” It gets higher again the
more she speaks. “But I’m not mad at this.”
Of course not. Why would she be? She gets her boyfriend and her best
friend in one place. It’s a win-win.
“I know.”
Her smile slips into a full-blown one and I’m positive she could’ve
tackled me to the ground with how fast she charged me. Hugging me and
jumping up and down. The chair I was in long forgotten.
The librarian definitely hates me now, but I’ll get over it. She might not,
but oh well. This is our moment.
“Not trying to play favorites, because again, I would’ve gone to any of
these.” Voice stern as she pauses, needing me to know she’s telling the
truth.
I do, which is why I go easy on her. “You were hoping I’d lean more
toward this one?”
“Exactly,” Hailey whooshes out. The relief ever present.
The sound like the sweetest sung hymn.
She grabs at my hands, swinging them between us. “We’re going to
college. Can you believe it?” Her natural optimism loosens those tightened
muscles of worry and doubt I still carry.
Do I believe it? Not necessarily, but like everything else in my life, I’d
find a way to adjust and thrive.
 Me, going to college? Who would’ve thought?

“I’ll meet you outside, I’m going to run to the bathroom first,” Hailey says
before disappearing into the restroom.
I nod, understanding, and am actually grateful for the moment alone. I
decided on a college. A freaking college. I need a second to process this.
My head is still spinning. I decide at the last second that it’d be quicker
to exit KPA through one of the side doors instead of the never-ending main
hall.
An uneasiness starts to settle over me, but I chalk that up to the nerves of
being overwhelmed. That high from earlier starting to wear down.
The small bubble inside me, carrying my excitement, ruptures like ice on
a lake. Stumbling into the last two people I ever thought I’d see having a
conversation.
Alone.
“Madison?”
I widen my eyes, not trusting what’s right before me.
“Eli?” I breathe out in the same confusion.
He doesn’t jump but he might as well have with how harshly he pushes
himself back. Taking one giant step that would equal roughly three normal
paces away from Madison.
“Did I…” Interrupt something? Gulping, I’m not able to finish my
sentence.
 “No,” Eli answers, not meeting my gaze. His caught, holding on to the
person across from him. “We’re finished anyway.”
I’ve never heard him sound so distant, cold as he is now. He’s never
spoken like this around me. His choice of wording strange, almost sounding
like it carries a double meaning.
When I don’t do anything but continue to gawk, Madison hisses, “Go
away, Rory.”
With the choked out way she says this I’d be dumb not to notice how it
sounds like she’s been crying or at least is on the verge. Holding, her breath
turns rigid and shaky.
“Are you okay?” The question springs from genuine concern and has
nothing to do with what I think of her personally.
I didn’t understand if she was fighting with her demons or if she was
staring at one.
That distinct memory of what Cole had told me once about Eli pushes
back to my forefront. Did I not understand Eli like I thought I did?
“Perfect,” Madison mutters, even if the words echo, detached from her
body. A cold glint settles in her eye that doesn’t quite match Eli’s but is still
lethal as it moves between us.
I briefly wonder why they chose this area and then I realize how perfect
of a spot it is. Concealed, they’re completely hidden from everyone else
down this empty corridor.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. The atmosphere is
thick, charged with… frustration? Tension, maybe?
“I was leaving. Heading out to my car.” Mutely, I stumble through an
explanation. Why do I do this? They certainly aren’t in a rush to do the
same.
 A shadow crosses Eli’s features and then he blinks once and it’s like
some sort of force snapped him from whatever’s plaguing him. “You said
you were headed to your car? I can walk you.”
That normal eased voice I’d accustomed with Eli falling right back into
place as he speaks directly to me.
I hear Madison’s deep inhale, but that’s the only sound she makes in the
otherwise suddenly too congested space.
“Wait,” Eli says like he’s remembered something. The gesture neutral,
like how Madison is trying to keep her facial features.
Fake, one of them is lying. Or maybe they both are?
About what, I have no idea.
“You had something you wanted to say. Right, Madison?” he bites.
Dragging her name through his teeth.
Her nose naturally points up in her defiance. The lift causes the gleam in
her eyes to shine as more light dusts them. The redness on the bottom of her
lashes confirms her dismay the longer that single light above reveals the
truth.
She’d been crying.
“I’ve changed my mind. I want to help you guys.”
My gaze swims between them.
Is she serious? Why the swift change of heart?
I choke down the dispute. I knew when to question things and when to
shut up and just be grateful. Asking would only offer up the chance to
change her mind and none of us could afford that.
“Tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Six

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

WE HAVE THE ENTIRE crew tonight as we step through the bank vault.
Hailey demanded to join the hellhounds after I told her about the bazaar
interaction between Madison and Eli.
She says she’s here as additional support but I know her, and I know
she’s as curious as the rest of us. Gossip is one of her favorite obsessions.
Unless it’s her own and then she’s as tight lipped as they come.
Mostly I know she wants to see what I told her about them for herself is
true. Cole and this entire thing with Hardin is only a bonus.
An even bigger score is that at least according to Madison, Silas hasn’t
been able to get in. Why she’s become more willing to break the law for us
I’m not sure about, but it got us here, so I won’t complain.
The atmosphere is heightened but I’d be a fool not to expect that. The
biggest imbalance of it all is the fact that we need Madison to do it.
She leads us, while Eli takes the very back. The rest of us file in
somewhere in between. Interesting.
 I’m not the only one who thinks so, Hailey mouthing, “they’re totally
banging.”
My eyes roll back to my skull, this girl.
Somehow, as if being able to sense in the rare time my friend’s actually
quiet, Madison’s head sharply rotates. Her disapproval made that much
more known.
A peep of a noise slips past Hailey’s lips, giving her away.
Finn, whose focus has been on the murals, catches on hearing her cry and
tucks her underneath his arm. He shoots Madison a dirty sneer in the
process.
I’ll give him that, my brother’s never been shy about letting it be known
when he disapproves of someone. A shiver skates down my shoulder. I
should know.
Off in the distance, I hear a snort, and I swear it’s from Cole. Who else in
the midst of chaos and illegal activities would find humor in this?
“What are we looking for again?” Madison asks minutes later. Hopefully,
we’re almost there—wherever we’re headed—because this is taking
forever. Who knew this place had such a large underground safekeep?
“Anything that has to do with my father, my last name, or Hardin,” Cole
says, voice dominant as it always is.
“Right, let’s pretend that’s helpful,” she snorts.
I don’t have to see her face to know that ever-present foul expression is
very much present. It’s never not.
“Can you narrow it down at all?”
“Not unless you know the specifics of what my father was asking your
father to get him into? Then nope.” Cole’s help is artificial.
 “Alright well, I guess we’ll start with personal. Any business
withholdings we like to keep in a separate area.”
This place is even bigger?
Typing in a code, she steps back as the vault’s gears start to grind,
clicking as each lock releases itself from its hold. The door unhinges itself
and pops open.
All of us step inside through the weighted circular opening, staring at
walls of metal boxes. I would hope they aren’t all full, but I wouldn’t be
surprised if they are.
“I can’t believe we’re in the room that holds everyone’s personal
holdings in the entire bank,” Hailey says with awe.
Madison smirks and for once it actually seems nonthreatening. “Don’t.
Because this is only for the Kellets. The Caspers have a similar-sized one
down the hall.”
If you’d taken me here months ago, I’d have had more of a reaction. I
know these families now and understand money has no bounds with them.
How many personal belongings did one person need?
“You wouldn’t understand this because you’re new money,” Madison
announces when no one asks. The old her back in full force within seconds.
“But rich people tend to have a lot of assets and like to keep them
protected.”
“That comment was uncalled for, but so would me secretly hoping you
swallow a tooth, and it bites you in the ass later,” Finn taunts savagely.
“It’s not a secret if you share it.”
“For once, Madison, that’s correct.” Finn’s tone is as dry as her need for
approval.
 “Technically, is what we’re doing illegal if we’re in the vault with the
person who also has the same last name?” Eli wonders, no doubt attempting
to break up the tension.
“It’s after hours, and I’m not a deposit attendant so, yeah. It’s illegal.”
Her emphasis on illegal more hostile than the question itself.
More conversation happens but my focus zones in on Iceman and how
he’s been skimming each metal box. For what, I’m not sure exactly.
I doubt he even knows what he’s looking for, but Cole’s never one to go
to battle without an idea of what he’s up against. I notice how he studies
every last inch of the place.
Inconsistencies, missing or rearranged numbers on the outside of each
box, a smudge, doesn’t matter. Whatever’s in here, Cole wants as much as
his father.
Being here is a clue or an answer, or at the very least, a jumping-off
point. The start of a solution to what happened with their holdings at
Hardin.
“Do you have the keys to get into them?” I ask, spotting the keyhole
below the numbers.
“It’d be back upstairs somewhere, but I’d need to know which box you
want in specifically. The holder should have the other copy,” she explains.
Although her answers are helpful it’s also no help at all.
I doubt Cole has that.
Damnit.
“Remember though, this could be a dead end,” she notes, eyeing the
room of boxes, same as everyone else. “You said you weren’t sure what you
were looking for? Whatever it is, it could be in another location too.”
Double damnit. She’s right.
 “We could be looking for anything. Family heirlooms, a hidden will, a
quick getaway stash of cash. Priceless jewels,” she muses provocatively.
That last one lighting her eyes up the most.
“Stop snooping, you think we’d really be down here if we were looking
for a pearl necklace?” Eli threatens, jeering.
The line on her upper lip thins out, as she juts out her hip in the same
motion. Her focus is too stuck on Eli or she’d have heard Hailey mutter,
“Sexual tension,” under her breath.
“I was just saying,” Madison defends darkly. Anger coating her tone.
“Well, stop.”
“You stop!”
“You—”
“—It’s not here,” Cole says, cutting in. By his tone, it makes me even
wonder if he heard what was going on around him at all.
He’s already at the door, ready to go but I notice how his gaze fixated a
second too long on one area before he’d turned facing us all again.
I doubt anyone else noticed but I had, and I find my head rotating over
my shoulder as we all shuffle to climb back out. I don’t spot anything out of
the ordinary or suspicious.
Those ice-filled eyes I sense, and they are the reason I shift back. I’ve
been caught but again Cole says nothing. Only staring me down through
those troubled blues.
Shaking his head, he turns away and I grimace. The way he’s veiling his
emotions right now doesn’t sit well with me. That invisible chain between
us loosening the smallest amount.
What’s going on in that head of yours, Iceman?
 “Just know,” Madison says after I’m the last to leave. She’s hung back to
reclose the door. “I didn’t do this for you,” her statement a cracked hiss of a
whisper.
Thrown off, I momentarily lose my footing but recover calmly after I
spot how her eyes briefly flicked in Eli’s direction.
Her voice is smooth and it’s the complete opposite of the tightness I have
inside my chest.
Before tonight, you could have told me Madison still had feelings for
Cole and I would’ve believed you.
Hailey had been right, and it’s clear Madison has moved on.
The time line I don’t think matters because it’s clear in the way Eli
watches her now, pretending like he isn’t but is. There’s something going on
between them.
The real question in all this though, is if that’s true, then why was
Madison crying earlier? It was like Eli had ripped her heart straight from
her chest and was holding it while it beat mercilessly for her to watch, just
because he could.
Should I care what’s going on between them? No.
Do I?
I catch up to Cole. His much larger hand perfectly fills my own with a
gentle squeeze. Nah, that’s not my story to worry about.

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Seven

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

HE’S QUIET, THE SAME as he’s been the entire drive back. Cole’s fingers
haven’t unwound consistently tight since we left. Gripped, they wrap
around the wheel like he wished it was his father’s neck and not the
leathered fabric after he insisted on driving.
Now he moves, pacing, but there’s something off about it. He’s too calm,
movements too robotic and standoffish.
He’s as focused as a beast locked in a cage. His tunnel vision making him
ready to strike as soon as the gate opens. Deep in concentration, he shifts
his weight.
No one had to say anything because we all felt it. It’s no longer a matter
of if but when, the longer he moved. Like the pressure in a can of soda
that’s been shaken up. There’s nothing for the rest of us to do but wait for
impact.
We all have our limits but the longer he stays quiet the more I know he’s
on the verge of losing his. His steps have grown heavier, much like his
headspace.
 He was stuck to his mind enough that he’d even forgotten to drop
Madison back off at her house. She was smart enough to at least not point it
out, and part of me was relieved by that, not for her sake but for Cole’s.
In the SUV we had limited space, which meant less area to escape if
provoked. The eruption would have skyrocketed that much more lively.
Here, back at the Caspers’ he at least has an entire mansion.
Here there’s more room to make ourselves sparse. Which is what
everyone else has been doing.
Finn and Hailey had volunteered to grab snacks, but they were in the
kitchen for over an hour. And then when they did come back, all they
brought were a few bags of chips and some drinks.
Those, like Cole’s mind, have sat untouched since they were first placed
down. No one has an appetite.
I’ve been on the couch alone for the most part after Eli volunteered to
take Madison back home. She was standing in the threshold awkwardly
before that.
Now everything except Eli—who’s still not back is doing what Cole’s
been doing the entire time. Dazed, we all stay in our own minds. Stuck to
our own battles.
The rings he’s creating I have no doubt will be permanent in the
oversized rug after tonight. The tufted wool is no match for lethal-mode
Cole.
Glancing around, the air is somber. It is then I realize how much we’ve
all changed since the first of the school year. Whether it’s from abuse,
death, divorce… control. All of us have lost something.
We’ve won hard but lost harder.
 We are helpless participants in a game we didn’t ask to play in. Victims
to a web of lies and deceit.
I grab a can of soda only because I want something to do not because I’m
actually thirsty. It’s this or run my hand along my medallion pendant but if I
keep up at this rate it will be thinned to a piece of satin.
The sound of Eli stepping back into the room causes everyone to rise
from their stupor. Not literally, Cole is the only mobile one.
That is until Eli pushes his limits, and Cole’s irises blacken to the shade
of midnight. “Hands off, my girl,” he snarls venomously.
The hairs on my arms stand in attention and I’m not the one who’s done
anything wrong. Not that Eli’s done much either.
Holding the bag of chips, Eli stays arched, stuck to his bent-over position
across my lap. The iciness that stares back at him holding him in place.
“Not the chips, asshole,” Iceman fumes and he drops them back down
onto the table.
Both of us look down at the same time. Only while I’m swallowing
nerves, Eli’s face has grown into a shallow smirk.
The hand he’d put on my knee as he reached over had been innocent, I’m
sure, leverage to grab the food. Something tells me—maybe it’s Cole’s
murderous glare—that he wouldn’t see it that way, so I don’t bother to try
and explain.
Eli could’ve just as easily put his hand on the cushion instead, or gone
around, but he hadn’t done either of those things. That’s what set Iceman
off. That and he hasn’t removed his hand yet.
Giving it a quick squeeze, he lets go, sinking back into his spot and I
silently thank the heavens. Not that it’s caused Iceman’s nostrils to stop
flaring.
 “Got something you wish to share?” Eli provokes even though he
shouldn’t.
My eyes close with a weighted sigh. He and Cole are too alike in this
sense. Neither has ever been shy of conflict. Whereas Cole is bold and
arrogant, Eli is more reserved but never one to be underestimated.
I wish at this moment he could be more like Finn but if that were the
case, we’d have no fun-loving goofball to try and play mediator.
“Don’t ever touch her,” Cole warns. His rage provoking his temper.
“Relax.”
“Fuck you!”
That one loose bolt, holding the gate closed on his inferno officially
snaps. The invisible door of his hostility set free as the monster comes back
to life.
“Everyone knows she’s yours.”
“Do you?” Cole challenges, saliva flying from his mouth. Eyes wild and
slightly out of focus. “Because to me and everyone else here, it looks like
you’re touching what doesn’t belong to you.”
“Iceman, calm down, we’re fr—”
“—I swear to fucking god, Rory, if you say friends, I’m going to lose it.”
Pretty sure you already have…
I push from my spot anyway. He doesn’t get to tell me what to do and
I’m about to tell him that but then he cuts me off again.
“I know how he looks at you. He may be distracted with someone else
for now, but we all knew about it before.”
In my peripherals, I notice how strongly Eli’s jaw starts to grate along his
jawbone. Cole is unafraid to go straight for the jugular. His own hysteria is
making him blind to what’s right in front of him.
 I stab a finger at my chest. “You know we’re together, right?” I’m
shouting because he’s overstepped. I’m not sure what upset him back at the
bank, but his anger has more than overstayed its welcome.
My throat burns with acid and resentment. His accusations didn’t just
hurt, they cut. Deep but effortless.
“Have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?”
A different type of energy crashes as it washes the room. Cole goes so
still at my comment you’d have thought he’d turned into iron.
My eyes narrow, he may be stuck but I’m damn sure not. “You know, for
someone who’s so sure of himself all the time, you’re coming off pretty
insecure right about now.”
That dangerous glint in his eyes only grows the longer I speak.
He bares his teeth. “That so?”
“Yeah,” I say, matching his rude tone. “It is.”
Both of us stare each other down for what could be minutes or hours, I’m
not really sure. Eventually and it’s only a second, but I swear—I swear, I
see a hint of regret flash in those ice-colored eyes.
“Princess, it’s not—”
I suddenly didn’t care if he was pleading for me to understand. A
hardness has settled, pressing itself to my center where he already hurt me.
“You were being a dick and you know it.”
“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to stand here and defend him right
now?”
“It didn’t mean anything!” I scream over his stupidity.
That flicker I saw disintegrates as the edges of his eyes widen before
thinning back to mask his terror. His entire mood has shifted back to deadly
bruteness, only now it’s directed at me.
 I stay exactly where I am, taking it all in, unaffected. He has my full
attention, and he should be as afraid, if not more. I’m not helpless, haven’t
been for a long time and I will not tolerate being disrespected.
“I was trying to….”
I raise a hand and a slight sneer pulls at his mouth, but he stops talking.
“Unless it involves you apologizing to me and Eli then I don’t want to hear
it.”
He’s pushed too far, and I no longer care about anything else but that.
Cole’s eyes blaze as hot as a roaring fire at the mention of him
apologizing to Eli. I can tell he’d rather burn alive than do that.
“Try again,” he says. Eyes glaring so bright I could wince.
How is he not seeing it? I love him, but I guess that’s the thing about it,
right? Where there is strength, there has to be weakness.
It’s clear in this moment that’s what I am. His vulnerability, his one flaw,
is me. Cole has my whole attention now, but not in the way he expects.
My legs are as heavy as rocks.
“If you can’t…” I pause, not understanding what’s tumbling out of my
mouth more than anyone else. My mind is working faster, processing things
more quickly. “If you can’t understand that I want you. I love you, then…”
Then what?
I knew what.
My throat bobs, saliva thick and gummy as I wet my lips. Those words
have a mind of their own as they once again find a way to escape.
The decision made before I have time to take it back.
“If you can’t figure out that one thing, then…” I hesitate again and Cole’s
eyes ignite further, pushing… daring me to continue.
I do. Too far down this road to stop now.
 He’s toxic and I’m corrupted. Together we’re lethal.
“Touch her and I’ll break your fucking neck,” he snarls not talking to me.
Cole’s gaze splinters much like my insides are doing. I know he’s saying
this to Eli to stall because he can sense what’s trying to force its way out of
my mouth. He’s panicking but so am I. That place inside my heart is trying
to protect me all over again.
“We should break up.” The words just tumble out. My voice is too hoarse
to be recognizable as they fall.
Silence blankets the room like lightning does to a sharpened object.
Intense but deadly, then still. Quiet.
The words have come, and I should be strong, empowered, right? Then
why do I feel so weak?
I think they hit me the hardest and I’m the one who spoke them.
“Come on, Rory, you don’t mean that,” Finn rushes in as the atmosphere
stays as clear as fog. “It’s been a tough night for us all. Let’s take a break,
cool off and we can come back tomorrow with a clearer mindset. Yeah?”
Is Finn right? He’s not, my head screams right back, even as my heart
disagrees. Can’t Cole see I instantly want to take it back?
And then when I’m right about to do just that…
“You’re right.”
My head snaps up so sharply it makes me dizzy but that’s not anything
new. The throbbing that’s already been there since I spit out the words now
compete with what Iceman’s said.
I’m right?
Cole’s jawbone is so sharp right now he could cut steel with it. The
bluntness of it all holds my focus as he repeats himself like I hadn’t heard
him the first time.
 “You’re right, Princess.”
He’s as closed off as I’d been when those words stumbled out.
A roguish spot above his chin twitches, and my eyes move, settling on
his mouth. It jumps again along the corner and my heart rate drops with
each new tic.
The horror and shock wrought like my beaten chest as he shuffles past us
all without another word. Leaving as guiltlessly as if we’d been discussing
the weather and not our relationship.
Both Finn and Eli chase him down while I stay rooted. Hailey comes
over to comfort me, but if she’s saying anything, it doesn’t register. My
whole attention glued to where he’d been a moment ago.
That spot is as empty as his voice before he left.
Something inside my bones reignites, hope maybe? But it disintegrates
right back when it’s only Eli who comes back through the entrance. Yet
again, I don’t bother trying to shield my disappointment.
I suck air down while Hailey sucks out enough of a sharp breath for the
both of us. The sound is like shards of glass to my already beaten stomach.
That should’ve been Cole. He should’ve been the one to come back, but
he didn’t. He took my heart and bolted.

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Eight

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

“HE’S GOING TO COME back.”

I don’t bother answering Hailey because this is about the tenth time she's
repeated this line. I’m not sure who she’s trying to convince more.
It’s gotten late and there’s still no sign of either of them.
The French doors are wide open, the breeze blowing the thin curtains
around as my back stays to hers. She’s in my room on my bed, talking to
me as if I’m in the room with her and not outside on the balcony.
After I’d realized she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, I lied and
told her I needed air. Really, I just wanted to be alone.
The balcony was the farthest spot I could think of to put some distance
between us after she refused to let me go for a run.
After a bit of time, I did feel my muscles loosen some. Being outside has
helped more than I want to admit. The coolness from the night’s air
unraveling a small handful of my fractured nerves.
By small, I mean microscopic.
 I’m a mess inside. Outside, I refuse to show anything. My head and my
heart are feeling two very different emotions.
Eventually, Hailey gets tired of me ignoring her twenty feet away, so she
decides to join me.
“Finn’s with him. He’ll talk some sense into him,” she says
encouragingly.
She’s trying to be helpful. I know this, but it comes off more like an
excuse, even if it wasn’t meant that way.
Cole made walking away from me look so easy. Like I was nothing to
him. Not worth the fight anymore…
“You know he’s just stressed about this thing with his dad and Hardin.
You guys had a fight. Every couple fights.”
I shift more of my weight toward her. “What about your parents? The
divorce. Not everyone reconciles.”
She openly winces, looking ahead at nothing. Her bottom lip starts to
wobble, and I feel like an asshole. It came off harsh but isn’t that life? No
one ever makes it out unscathed.
The only way to survive is to learn to fix the pieces after the fall or you
crumble right along with the impact.
“So, what if they are?” Her tone is bitter, accusing. “Maybe this is what
they need. The time apart might help them figure things out.”
A hollow laugh escapes, I don’t mean for it to, but honestly, come on.
Her mom is moving states away. That ship has already sailed. They’re done
and I don’t understand how she can’t see that.
“You’re hurting right now, I know, but that doesn’t mean you get to take
your misery out on the one person trying to help you.” The words roll off
her tongue courageously even as she continues to shake in her spot.
 Hailey’s right.
“This is real life though. Things don’t become magically fixed because
we want them to. It’s never that simple.”
We don’t do simple. It’s not who we are.
“Why not?” She sniffles not hiding her angry tears, turning back my way.
That hurt on her face hitting me like a smack right across my own. “Why
does it have to be difficult?”
“I don’t know,” I sigh, wishing I had an answer. “Sometimes things
happen. A storm shows up even on a sunny day and you’re stuck dealing
with the rain.”
I huff, but it comes off dry. My entire goddamn life has felt like a
thunderstorm. If there wasn’t lightning, there was thunder, and if there
wasn’t either of those, then darkness found a way in.
She drops a heavy head to my shoulder. Showing me more gentleness
than I deserve. The night around us is as flat as it is somber.
Air pulls from her nose. “Know the best part about a storm? Sometimes,
if we’re lucky, there are also rainbows at the end.”
I blink back the moisture I hadn’t asked to settle along the bottom part of
my lids. Now we are both crying. A soft hiccup leaves my throat when she
lifts her cheek. Wiping away the droplets rolling down mine.
They don’t stop and for some reason in all this, I find myself smiling. We
both are. The more she wipes them away, the more fall and the bigger my
grin is.
“God, you’re turning me into such a sap,” I complain, fake disgusted.
“It’s about time,” she shoots right back.
Hailey knows how I am and never once has judged me for it. Emotions
are a hard thing for someone like me. Something I struggle with. Shutting
people out is so much easier than letting them in and risking the chance of
being hurt.
Her determination from the very beginning the sole reason we’d become
friends, to begin with. If there is one thing you can always count on with
Hailey Williams it’s to be consistent in this one fact. Once her mind is set,
there’s no changing it.
“You’re the best—the worst—but the best,” I say, sniffling out my gripes.
“You love me, I know,” she hums in her own self-approval. “But don’t
worry because I love you right back, bestie.”
Then in true Hailey fashion, she’s hugging me, but I give it right back,
that is until Eli walks in.
“Did I miss something?” he asks, scratching at the back of his neck. No
doubt both our cheeks as puffy as our eyes.
“Girl talk, you wouldn’t understand,” Hailey says, waving him off.
“Is that mine?” I ask, eyeing the object in his hand.
“I guess you left it downstairs, but it’s rang a few times, so I thought you
might want it back.”
My breathing shallows out. I get what Eli’s saying without saying it. Cole
might be calling.
Only one problem, when I glance down at the number, it comes up as
unknown. Not something saved to my contacts.
As if thinking it, that same number calls again and it unsettles me.
Rattling that thing underneath my ribs at the sight.
Dread pools, filling its way the longer I take to answer. Instead, I listen to
it ring. I don’t know which is louder, the ringing or the sound of my heart
beating.
“Hello?”
 “Is this Aurora Casper?”
My eyes find Hailey’s, instantly alert. I don’t recognize the voice.
My fingers start to shake. Why are they doing this? What’s going on?
This person is too professional, being too formal.
Something’s wrong, I can sense it deep in my gut.
Dread.
I thought I was fearful before, but nothing could prepare me for this. For
what tumbles out next, from that too-formal mouth on the other end of the
line.
“There’s been an accident.”

OceanofPDF.com
Thirty-Nine

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

I HEAR A GROAN beside me and know that lackluster sulky voice could
only belong to one person. Great. I’d thought the nurse had done me a favor
earlier by knocking him out when he couldn’t find sleep, but now he’s
awake again.
The constant buzzing sound that follows shortly after is the second most
annoying thing in this room.
Turning, a hiss whistles past my teeth when I move too fast. My side
howls as more pain shoots to my ribs. This, is unfortunately the first thing.
Even with the painkillers, everything hurts like a bitch. The one dark
blueish-purple spot that now sits on the entire left side of my stomach
looked like one big permanent birthmark.
I’m so stiff. The nurse who’d helped bandage me up earlier said that
would be normal for a while and not to worry but still—fuck—another
sound rips past my lungs. It hurts to breathe.
I literally feel like I’ve been pulled in half. The cracking sound is
unnatural.
 Buzz. Buzz. Buzzzzzz.
My teeth clench. My molars snap so tightly they grind together, and more
pain burns in my side. This time I can ignore it. What I can’t ignore is that
annoying-ass sound.
“Would you fucking stop already?” I demand rather than ask.
“I’m hungry,” Finn whines.
“You have a concussion. You don’t need food, you need sleep.”
“I did sleep, now I want food.”
“They’ve probably disconnected the button from our room because
you’ve pushed it so many times.” My tone grows more lackluster the more
my side burns.
Relenting, my chest caves, and my breathing hollows out. Gripping the
rails on my bed, I choke out a noise in my need for air. The pain screams,
repaying me for moving too aggressively by forcefully knocking the air I
now choke on.
I exhale through my nose, deep and shallow. My eyes burn with
moisture, but I keep them laser focused up front. My death grip on the
railing releasing as I shove a pillow to my chest. I take another deep,
controlled breath.
Focus. Inhale. Focus. Exhale.
They told me this was supposed to help. It doesn’t.
“You okay?”
I hear Finn’s concern, but I ignore it. He can’t help me.
My eyes snap closed as I try to concentrate. The darkness helps shift my
attention to what matters.
The doctor told me I needed to try and do breathing exercises. Yet, the
only one I can seem to remember isn’t even one he’d shown me but one
shared by someone else.
Deep breaths. Count to five, in. Hold it. Count to five, release.
My heart plummets and my lungs cave further inside my ribs. Rory.
I never should’ve walked out on her. Left her standing there with nothing
but her own thoughts to drive her mad. Thoughts I’d put there by leaving.
I know how she is, and I can only imagine what’s going on in that pretty
little mind of hers now. I was frustrated, and we both took it out on each
other.
My still-closed eyes press tighter together, trying to force the memory
away.
It doesn’t work.
Gulping, those images are imprinted there for good. Seeing the hurt on
her face, is now stuck inside my mind forever.
The despair, the hurt, I saw it all right before I turned and walked away.
Stepped out. Every single second flashes with blinding clarity as I relive it
all over again.
Those pearly grays of hers, shined. Pained and hurt as much as I’d been,
as much as I am.
I’m such an idiot.
My nails scrape the plush pillow. All I’d have to do is yank a bit more
and the contents on the inside would fall out. It would equal how my heart
is. Vulnerable and collapsed.
We both overreacted, but I messed up first by not being more
levelheaded. I left after swearing I’d do anything to get her back, to keep
her.
My chest burns but the aching has nothing to do with my cracked ribs.
This weight is from a different burden.
 Regret.
Deep breaths. Count to five, in. Hold it. Count to five, release. Deep
breaths. Count to five, in. Hold it. Count to five, release. Deep breaths.
Count to five, in. Hold it. Count to five, release.
Why isn’t this working? Rory told me it works for her, why isn’t it for me?
I want this fixed, come on, oxygen. Work already!
The monitor beside me goes berserk the more my heart rate skyrockets.
The opposite of what it’s supposed to be doing. The darkness isn’t helping,
the death grip I have on this stupid pillow is a waste, and Princess’s
technique isn’t doing shit.
What’s going on?
I swear my heartbeat is going a million miles a minute, but I can’t catch
up with it. My head is fuzzy and I’m dizzy but I’m sitting down. Is this
normal?
All that keeps playing over and over again is that one scene.
How many times can I break one person before I’ve lost all my chances?
I’m not sure, but this time it feels like it could’ve been the last. The way she
spoke was so… permanent.
Once, I’d told her I wasn’t good for her, and I meant it. Just because
Rory’s strong enough to handle pain doesn’t mean she deserves it.
I don’t want it to be over though. I want her. That’s it.
My ears ring, that beeping hasn’t gone down, only up, and I swear it’s
gotten louder somehow. Or is that a result of my dizziness?
Choking, I’m choking. My eyes are permanently shut.
I try slamming my fist into the pillow again. Each new hit is like another
blow to my gut. The fluffy padding is doing absolutely nothing by this
point. This can’t be good for my ribs, but I couldn’t give a single fuck.
 The pain’s already here anyway. What’s a little more?
The more I do this, the less I feel. Relief is just misery wrapped up in a
singular package anyway.
Louder, the noise is louder. The beeping is as crazed as I am.
I want her back.
I want her here.
All I crave is to hold her in my arms and tell her what a moron I am.
Because I am, I keep messing up. Hit. I want to caress her cheek and I want
her to look up at me before she leans into me and kisses me back.
This whole time I was the one who was supposed to be protecting her but
all I did was damage her more.
Jab. Punch. Hit.
Bucking, my back presses into the mattress from impact. This last one
getting me marvelously.
Good.
The misery is my cure.
The whooshing of nurses rushing in and locking my arms to the side isn’t
what has my eyes shoving open. I hear what they’re saying, and I can see
what they’re doing but it doesn’t matter.
The monitor that, when I get a free second, is going to be taken out
permanently by my fist hasn’t stopped. Plummeting, it now beeps in the
complete opposite direction. Instead of increasing, it slowed with alarming
and impressive speed.
Continuing its descent the longer I stare back at what’s standing in the
doorway. Her eyes, I’ve never seen them so large, round, and scared to
absolute death at the same time.
They’re the most beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed.
 I jerk, snarling out my frustration when she’s pushed back after she tries
to come closer. An additional person steps in front of me, blocking me from
seeing the one person I care about. The only girl I’ll ever love.
My neck cranes painfully around them.
I need to see her. Let her come back in, I try to yell, but no one listens to
me.
This is real. It has to be. Rory’s here. She’s come to see me; she hasn’t
given up. Even after I messed up so epically.
The once blinding fluorescent had haloed her for a split second before
she was shoved from the room. Angelic, she’s an angel.
Those golden locks of hers glowed as they framed the exquisite features
of her face.
Iceman. I swear I’d heard that name push past her lips. I swear it!
That’s the only thing over all the disruption that had my eyes opening
earlier. Her voice—Princess’s—the only sound that could ever rip its way
through a blind man’s traffic.
She’d broken me out of my gilded cage and hadn’t even realized it.
Cold, my arms are loosening. The stiff ridges of my muscles relax, but
I’m not the one doing it. I don’t have control as more liquid is forced into
my body with a big-ass needle.
Heavy, my eyelids are so heavy.
What’s going on?
My arm reaches, stretching out for where she’d been, only the task is
cumbersome. Gravity is not working in my favor.
I blink, but it becomes permanent as I sink back into the bed.
Darkness always has been a welcome friend.
OceanofPDF.com
 Forty

OceanofPDF.com
 Cole

SEDATIVES ARE NO JOKE.

I’m higher than a giraffe’s asshole right now, and it’s awesome. I haven’t
felt this relaxed in months. My whole body tingles, abuzz, and I relish in it.
My lids are too heavy to open but I can hear what’s going on around me.
This annoying machine is still monitoring my heart rate. Thumping, it
jumps, beeping every few seconds.
It sounds normal, calm.
A night and day difference from earlier. How long ago that’s been, I’m
not sure. I have no recollection of the time in this warped bubble of my
mind.
The rhythmic sound of my heart is the only noise in the room for a while.
Secure, I stay how I am—even if the beds in this place are about as
comfortable as sleeping on solid stone.
It might’ve been hours, I’m not sure, but I feel the effects of the sedative
start to wear off after a while. My eyes don’t feel as weighed down and I’m
not as groggy.
 I even got my fingers to twitch at one point.
Moving my limbs, no matter how brief, takes more effort than I’d
expected. The strain had worn me down again, and eventually, I drifted
back into another slumber.
Sleep is something my body has needed for a while, so I relish in my fill
now.
I’m awoken by the sound of footsteps. They aren’t from a nurse or our
doctor. These are quiet but with purpose. Each step heavy and steady. The
nurses are more aloof and softer.
I may be drowsy, but I was instantly put on alert.
A chair scrapes the tile as it’s moved. Whoever it is, they aren’t here for
me. Passing my bed and going straight for Finn’s.
Most of my body may be out of use right now but my ears are working
perfectly fine.
It takes a moment before the words come out but as soon as they do I
know who they belong to. The richness of his voice barely contained under
the stress of his worry.
“Finn,” Abram breathes out. The weight he carries in his name alone is
burdensome. Coated with regret.
An emotion I’m not unfamiliar with.
There’s more movement and then a crinkling sound like he’s rested his
elbows on the matching plastic sheets I also have.
Did I mention I’m not a fan?
“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I should’ve been here. I should
have…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. How could he when that thickness
blanketing his voice is now choking back a sob?
 The sound is as nervy as it is gut wrenching. Sure, Abram might not be as
callous and cold as my father, but he’s a person of respect in our world.
Someone to be feared.
To hear someone so powerful and strong affected is humbling. Hearing
someone you’d admired growing up fall to such a worthless state of fullness
is tragic.
Abram’s throat clears and I imagine it bobbing up and down.
“I should’ve done a lot of things differently. I should’ve been there more
for both you and your sister. Tried harder.”
The words are like torture, and they aren’t even meant for me.
Raw, his voice is so scratchy.
“I may have a lot of regrets in life but being your dad was never one of
them. Because it doesn’t matter to me what a piece of paper says. You are
my son. When I got the call… oh god…” Another choked-back sob.
A sting of jealousy shoots through my chest. Finn doesn’t realize how
lucky he is if he’s even hearing any of this at all.
His biologics are a nonnecessity, whereas my life was only created for the
one fact. I only exist as a transaction to continue a tradition.
He’d been spared, whereas I am shackled to a legacy I didn’t ask for.
There’s a whimper, only it’s not from Abram. The rustling of these
dumbass sheets crunch as Finn stirs in his spot.
“You’re being such a baby, Dad.” Finn whines groggily. “I have a
concussion and a broken arm, which by the way, are less painful than you
talking so loud.”
“You called me dad again.” Abram says in awe, completely ignoring the
snark. That smile I don’t have to see to know is there on full display.
More shuffling.
 “You’re acting cheesier than a pizza right now,” he continues to
complain. “Can you get me a pizza?”
I hear Abram’s relieved snort of laughter and I too have to bite one back,
because that is the most Finn thing to say possible. Only he would care
about getting food in spite of everything that happened to us tonight.
Is it still nighttime? I have no clue.
“You know, you’ve always been my son.” The pledge with which Abram
says this makes that thing underneath all these bruises jump.
Finn doesn’t answer right away and it’s like I can feel the weight of
Abram’s nerves as if they were my own. Waiting, as the room fills with
heavy soberness.
The bed squeaks, dipping as more leverage is put on one half, and then…
“I know,” Finn whispers but it sounds clogged. Muffled like when you hug
someone.
My theory is confirmed when I hear the small pats as someone taps back.
The moment is long, and I wonder if they stay content with the value of
that. That is until I sense Finn’s tension.
It radiates from here, and I don’t have to turn over or even open my eyes
to know he wants to say something. That’s the thing about Finn though, he
wears his emotions like he does his clothes. Visible and sometimes too
bold.
More silence follows. Finn is usually never shy about confrontation; he
thrives with attention. This, though, is different. Anyone with a pulse could
understand that which is why Abram stays quiet.
That or he’s content in knowing he has his son back, either way, he waits,
not the least bit impatient.
Finn sighs, but it’s weighty.
 Here we go.
“I want to apologize,” he rushes out. “Not about telling you that I want to
play basketball but for how it all went down. It’s just…”
“Stop,” Abram interjects softly. “Don’t apologize. I should’ve been more
involved. If I had been, I’d have understood better how much this means to
you—the importance of it,” he corrects. “As your father, I wish I would’ve
been there more.” His tone is richer now.
Finn snorts, brushing it off, but I know there’s regret there too. He
would’ve liked the same.
“There are many things I wish I could go back and change but being a
father to both you and Rory is something I would never take back. You
must understand that, Finn,” Abram pleads.
“You’re sure?” Those doubts ever present again.
“You two are everything to me,” he concedes, a throaty noise locking in
his lungs. “I’d like to say that as your father I’ve taught you a lot of things,
but bravery is something you learned on your own.”
He’s not wrong. Finn may be juvenile sometimes but he’s also gutsy.
“What you said to me in the office after you told me about your
scholarship was brave, and even though I was upset about it in the moment
I was also the proudest I have ever been at the same time.”
Finn’s airway grows choppy, and I know his shoulders have gone slack.
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
The eased gravity of those simple words settles between them like hot
stones. It’s like neither can say it enough.
“…There’s something else.”
 I know then, and my stomach falls to my feet. He’s going to tell him. I try
to control my breathing by biting the inside of my cheek, waiting in
anticipation.
“There’s something you should know about the accident.”
He’s really going to do it.
I swore he hadn’t noticed while we were in the car. The adrenaline of
everything else making him oblivious, or that’d been my hope.
Sure, he could be unaware at times, but I knew better than to
underestimate him when it really matters.
The air in the room shifts once again and I know Abram is now as on
edge as he is.
“Go on,” he encourages even if he’s puzzled.
I never would’ve brought it up. I never planned to. We don’t get a choice
in who our parents are, so it’s not fair to blame him for another person’s
actions.
We all have our handicaps, ours are disguised in our parents’ faults.
I’m dreading this as much as he is, having to tell his father the real reason
we crashed. I may have been driving but it wasn’t my recklessness that
caused us to slam into the pole of a power line.
“You already know Cole and I were in an accident,” he starts and my
airways lock. They hold the longer he makes both Abram and I wait to hear
how he’s going to explain this.
“The doctor told me he’d been going too fast and overcorrected.”
“He did, well sorta… that’s not all of it,” Finn defends and only then
does this wave of comfort crash over me. Him safeguarding my actions,
having my back.
“What do you mean?”
 “Cole’s a great driver, he’s the reason we came out of this as well as we
did. Without his quick thinking, we’d have probably been a lot worse off.”
My skin reheats all over again at the memory. Finn didn’t have to specify,
the unspoken meaning obvious. We could’ve died.
The flesh along my neck strains taking in the gravity of the situation.
Here it comes…
“He saved us.”
My eyes spring open on their own accord. I hadn’t been expecting that.
I don’t dare to move anything else though, stuck to the side of my bed
like I’d melted into the uncomfortable plastic.
The driver that caused us to crash was out for blood—our blood. Them
showing up as quickly as they disappeared. Wanting us gone at the same
velocity.
“It was Mom. Lorna, she’d tailed us.” The words spill and hang out in the
open for all the world to hear. The truth is set free.
Now that they’re out, they can never be put back in. The filth of the truth
never to be sealed back into the box I was certain they’d stay in forever.
“She’s the reason we crashed,” Finn pushes. Expelling the sentence out
with both anger and astonishment.
“Finn, I need you to be very specific,” Abram says. Basically, he’s stating
that this is a heavy charge to insinuate, and he needs to be sure of his
actions.
My friend doesn’t disappoint. He knows what he saw—we both noticed.
“I don’t know how long she was following but I don’t think she knew I
was the one in the car. I assume she thought it was Rory who was in the
passenger seat. It was dark.”
 “And Lorna is aware of what Cole’s car looks like,” Abram adds as he
puts his own pieces of this mess of a puzzle together.
I hear Finn swallow and I wouldn’t doubt if his head’s nodding in the
same fashion. “His windows are tinted, there’s no way she would’ve been
able to pick out more than the shadows of two figures.”
The sentence is shoveled out, so quickly I’m not sure how he isn’t
hyperventilating or how his monitor isn’t going sporadic as mine had
earlier.
He takes a few much-needed lungfuls of air after Abram encourages him
to calm down. Most likely coming to the same conclusion I did.
Although, whatever sedative they’d given me was ten out of ten
recommended.
“Mom did it. She tailed us, wanted us to crash. Wanted—”
“—Are you positive in this?” Abram’s tone leaving no room for
uncertainty.
He isn’t asking because he doubts his son. He needs absolute clarification
before he jumps into action. The wheel of his mind already spinning like a
hamster who refuses to quit.
Finn doesn’t hesitate. “Positive.”
And like that, it’s done.
I hear as the chair thunders and Abram rises from his spot. He mumbles a
pensive goodbye, even though I know his phone is already pressed to his
ear. No doubt waiting for Sgt. Daniels to pick up on the other end of the
line.
The calmness of his steps as he leaves the room jarring further at the
intensity of the situation. The purpose of them more present than when he’d
arrived.
 “Alright, dick fingers, time to wake up from your pretend slumber,” I
hear right before a pillow smacks me on the back of the head.
The ever-visible frown lines on my face deepen.
I turn over in time to see him dropping the one good arm he had that isn’t
in a sling.
The ass was about to throw another.
“You know those meds they gave me haven’t fully worn off yet, right?” I
argue as that pillow settles back into his lap.
“Well, they basically gave you a horse tranquilizer so…”
I allow him to see my wince. “Was it that bad?”
“It wasn’t good,” he admits honestly.
I eye the room and he chucks the pillow at me in respite. “That’s for
scaring me and everyone else.”
Gulping, he doesn’t have to say it because I know he’s talking about
Rory. So, Princess had been here. I hadn’t imagined it after all.
My side screams as I twist back in his direction too rapidly. Not
appreciating the second hit.
I catch his gaze and his mouth lifts in a secret smirk like it was payback.
Well fine. Taking both additional pillows, I take my time fluffing and
placing them before settling back in.
With nothing better to do, Finn is forced to watch because he can no
longer do the same. All he has is a blanket and his mattress to keep himself
cozy now.
I sink lower into my spot, not about to offer him one of them back.
Sometimes lessons in life must be learned the hard way.
He harrumphs before I see that mischievous glint start to shine off his
pupils. His finger is already on the button as I bury my face into the cotton
fabric with a grunt.
Buzz.
“I wasn’t kidding when I said I could use a pizza.”

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Forty-One

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 Rory

I WAS HESITANT TO show. Especially after last night, but Hailey

convinced me it would be better this time.
The bitter smell of bleach wafts through my senses. The sterile smell
doing nothing to calm my raging nerves.
How could she be so positive when she hadn’t been the one to walk in on
him abusing himself? She’d been pushed out of the room before she could
see the nurses and doctors restraining him. Holding him down before he
could cause more damage to his already beaten figure.
Eli and Hailey described every last explicit mark in detail after I’d
questioned them relentlessly. They’d come back earlier from the hospital
this morning. This trip was more successful than our first.
I couldn’t do it though. I refused to go with them even after Hailey
begged.
Not after what I saw.
Eli was the one to sympathize with me as he pulled her along while I
stayed home. Nibbling off what was left of my fingernails instead. Which,
to be fair, hadn’t been much.
It was hours before they’d come back but I didn’t care how gruesome, I
wanted to know everything. Needed it.
They’d described various scratches and cuts lining Cole’s neck and jaw.
The one side of his face bruised entirely but I already knew about those. I’d
seen them myself.
I wanted to know about the others because I knew there were more.
There had to be with how fast Cole was driving when he slammed into the
pole.
That’s the one thing that had my head swimming in a mangled sea of
endless depth. Cole was upset when he’d left but with the momentum
they’d described him going, it’s like he was running from something.
It didn’t make sense and it’s not like I’d had the chance to ask him,
personally.
Hailey did tell me Cole’s ribs are bruised. The doctors said he should be
grateful because miraculously somehow, he hadn’t broken any.
My throat bobbed, thick with saliva when she’d described how bad
they’d looked. Her and Eli being there as the nurse removed the gauze to
check that the bruising hadn’t worsened. His outburst last night not helping
anything.
Garish and purple are the words she’d chosen.
Somehow despite all this, she’s convinced me to finally go. Reminding
me with sad puppy-dog eyes that Cole wasn’t the only one in that car. Finn
was injured in the accident as well.
I knew this trick because I’d used it on Alma thousands of times. I didn’t
appreciate it being used back on me though.
 Finn broke an arm. His side of the car was the one that had hit the pole
when they’d swerved. Unfortunately, his dominant side taking most of the
force. Smashing between the windshield and the door.
Hailey said he wouldn’t acknowledge the doubts about how this could
affect his scholarship. Plastering on a smile about how he was going to have
a shirt made that said, “Well played, gravity, well played.”
He’d downplayed the situation with humor, but I could tell in her own
worries that he was also scared to admit the truth.
We all were. This crash could affect his career. His dream.
Reality had come down smashing it with a hardened fist. The vise grip in
this case a sturdy piece of wood that now has more than a few missing
splinters from around the base.
Cole’s precious silver-gray Ferrari on the other hand? Totaled.
“I can’t do this.”
Spinning on my heel, I ram right into Eli. His arms lock onto my
shoulders automatically. Hailey lets out a small gasp beside him in surprise.
I blink, daring the moisture pooling around my bottom lash line to go
away as my bottom lip starts to tremble.
My focus is on the exit behind his head.
“I can’t do it, Eli; I can’t see him like that. I can’t… don’t make me do
it.” The words gurgle out on a strangled plea. “Not again.”
Desperate. I’m desperate.
He doesn’t give me what I want. He holds me stock-still in his embrace
as more droplets of water form, but I never allow them to fall.
Eventually, when neither of us makes a move to give in, he shifts,
bending down on an anguished sigh. Meeting me at eye level.
 The entire time he’s patient—they both are, neither one pushing me
toward the room but not letting me leave either. Detached from my body,
that’s how this feels. Like the world has fallen beneath my feet and there’s
nothing to catch me.
I’m unsure how long we stay like this. Could’ve been seconds, minutes…
hours. I have no clue, and it should be worrisome how easily time slips.
Eli waits for me to meet his stare, but I refuse. Hadn’t my agreeing to
come been enough? I’m here, that’s sufficient, right?
Somehow, he must sense my doubt, because his hold tightens to the point
that it makes me flinch. I only understand after our eyes connect that it was
intentional.
He’s finally gotten what he’s wanted all along. Me to focus, breathe.
“I know this is hard, Rory, but you’re strong. You’ve proven that time
and time again with everything you’ve been through in life.” His eyes are
hard, determined.
Tone so resolute, I want to crumble right here in his arms.
My chest rises and falls. The side of his mouth lifts into the smallest,
saddest grin. “Be strong. Do it for them.” His voice tender but firm.
Letting go, he pads down the hallway saying everything he’s wanted. A
dizzying wave of nausea sweeps over me. Eli’s leaving the decision up to
me.
Alone I stay, Hailey following behind him with sad, hooded eyes.
I could take about ten steps and be in their room or I could turn the other
way and be the same distance to the exit.
One meant opening myself up to more vulnerability and the other to
freedom.
The choice is entirely mine.
 My muscles are already pulled tight, every fiber in my body knowing
what I should do. Familiarity washes over me because it’s the same thing
I’ve always done when I’m uncertain.
I turn back and I don’t walk, I run.
I can’t do this.

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Forty-Two

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 Rory

SOMEHOW, I’D MANAGED TO convince myself leaving the hospital a

second time was for the best, even as my gut continues to tell me that I’m a
liar.
I shove those doubts away. Distracting myself with other things instead.
My phone started blowing up not long after I got back to the Caspers’. I
texted everyone, letting them know I was okay and that I wanted to be
alone.
Stringing my hair up into a high pony, I put my phone on silent and go to
work.
The conservatory has many faces. A place of growth, an escape, and now
a place of study. Buckling down all my energy I become devoted to trying
to figure this out.
Focusing on this is easier than going back to the hospital.
I rub at my tired eyes, checking the time on my phone. I didn’t have a clue
what hour it was but when I arrived, I know it had been daylight. Now only
darkness settles through the cracks of clear glass.
Papers litter the room. I’d gone through every single piece of information
Sgt. Daniels had collected on Lorna. Weeks’ worth of work lay before me.
Her entire life’s history present in these thin sheets of knowledge.
This woman’s history is a lot more complex than I’d originally known.
She’d jumped from foster family to foster family until she was an adult.
Hopping from jobs in a similar fashion the few years after.
The bit that truly caught me off guard was seeing that she’d worked at
Hardin. She’d been a secretary. Did Finn even know that?
That wasn’t the only surprising thing I’d learned though, scouring her
files.
Hardin was not only her longest job but also her last. Adding up the time
line of her work history with their marriage certificate and Finn’s birthday, I
easily deduced why she’d quit.
Lorna is a true rag-to-riches success story on paper. A nothing turned into
a something, overnight.
She’s someone who had more to lose than anyone. Which makes it all the
more confusing on why she’d outed herself the other night.
Paraphrasing, Hailey recounted what Finn had told her happened that
night.
For so long, we hadn’t been able to locate her. Like a phantom, she’d
disappeared without a trace after her confession at Hardin. Why unveil her
carefully guarded cloak now?
She’s insane—smart—but senile.
 What’s even more pressing is that Cole admitted he'd noticed the car had
been following them for a while. And by that, I mean as soon as they pulled
out of the Caspers’ driveway.
At first, I assumed that meant she’d been watching us, and maybe she
had, but I wasn’t convinced that was all. A nagging feeling has settled in
my bones that won’t rest telling me there’s more.
It was right after Madison had gotten us all into the bank and we came
back here. Lorna also would’ve needed access to a car that we wouldn’t
recognize. Also, it wasn’t a rental because there hasn’t been a credit card
purchase since Abram froze all her cards.
So, she’s either getting money from somewhere else or has had help. If
she had help, it wouldn’t be too far off to suspect she was staying with
whoever they were as well.
Untraceable, she’s somewhere none of us thought to look.
But where?
Blinking, I pull my head away when the black text on white paper starts
to swim, turning into a gray blur. I’ve been staring too long, and my vision
is long past strained.
Leaning back, I toss the pencil that was between my teeth onto the table.
My mind as drowsy as my eyelids.
The sweet smell of flowers wafts in my nose. The bright colors are a nice
distraction from the muted print I’ve been studying for hours.
Curling my toes underneath myself, I slump down farther into the plush
velvet of the sofa, annoyed. What isn’t connecting? The answer’s here, it
has to be.
Spotting the fountain in the center of the room, my tired lids feel
weighted as I watch as the peaceful stream sprouts from the top and down
to the bowl at the bottom.
The sheer grandness of it an impossible thing not to appreciate since Cole
fixed it for me. Breathtaking, it’s as stunning as it is useful. Serving as the
entire conservatory’s main source of irrigation.
Moving my head around more, I recognize that my glass house and I
have been through a lot. Both of us needed some work, but once given the
opportunity we thrived.
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” I ask, stroking a petal from a
bushel of flowers nearby.
The question is only meant for the things that grow inside my
wonderland but it’s not them who respond.
“Always better to look ahead than behind. That’s what I’ve always said.”
I gape. “What are you doing here?”
Better question: how did you know this place existed? Or that I’d be
here?
With his hands tucked in his pockets, he studies the room. “Military
strategy. Face forward. Going backwards will only slow you down,” Sgt.
Daniels states before coming to a stop.
If he’s impressed by the room’s grandness, I can’t tell. His face as blank
as a piece of slate.
Making himself even more welcome, he takes the one empty seat beside
me. I hug my knees tighter into myself. Shifting, I make room for the
uninvited guest.
I lift my chin. “I wasn’t aware you knew of this room. Many don’t.”
Which is amazing considering the sheer size and the fact that it’s visible
outside. Barely, and from a good angle if you’re in the backyard, but it’s
here.
 A low, raspy noise leaves his mouth. I know he can sense my curious
gaze. It penetrates his profile the longer he refuses to answer me.
It also infuriates me, which I think he finds more amusing somehow.
I track his every move since I have nothing better to do. His gaze roams,
scouring the unsorted papers that sit in a mess on the table. He doesn’t
move them, only observes, but I doubt he needs to. He’s the one who found
all this out, after all.
“I assume I don’t need to ask if you took these from Abram’s office
without his knowledge.”
He lifts a knowing eyebrow and my mouth gapes. This guy.
“You can take them back if that’s what you’ve come looking for. I’m
done with them.” I conclude, trying to hide my… displeasure?
“For tonight or will I find them back here come tomorrow again?”
“Does it matter either way?” I bite back.
This is the longest conversation I’ve ever had with Eli’s father and I’m
not any closer to figuring out how he knew about this place or how he
found me.
“It does, believe it or not.”
“Why?”
“Because if you’re done with them, it means you’ve found the answer or
given up. But if you take them again, it tells me you aren’t done and there’s
hope.”
I stare at him slack-jawed, imploring.
Some sort of unspoken wisdom gleamed from his expression. A new
swell of hopeful determination sparks inside my tired frame.
“I haven’t given up.”
“You’ve found the answer then?”
 My face must say it all because he leans back in a similar fashion to my
own. This is the most relaxed I’ve ever seen the man. Usually, like his son,
he’s all sharp lines and pointed boundaries.
“I’ve never been in this room,” he muses suddenly.
How’d you know I’d be here then?
“Why come here now then?”
“Why not now?” he asks, and I can tell he’s goading me.
I let him.
Shrugging, I downplay my curiosity. “Isn’t it your job to know it all?
Were you,”—I pause for theatrics, not because I’m uncertain—“afraid?”
His bald head gleans as he arches his head back on a laugh, and
something tells me this doesn’t happen often. “Afraid? Of what?”
I lift another shoulder, gripping my knee. “I don’t know, you tell me.”
Sgt. Daniels’s mouth quirks. “Tell you that these walls only act as a
shield from the elements outside? Plants, flowers, they all flourish fine in
nature, in the sunshine that isn’t protected by glass walls.”
“Are you saying they’re trapped?”
“I’m saying that you’re shielding them. They’re secure as long as they
stay here, restricted but guarded.”
My face contorts. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“You’re right, it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with leaving the comforts
of our safety, but sometimes when we push past barriers, the world opens
back up. Rewards us for trying.”
In a roundabout way, is he talking about me avoiding going back to the
hospital? I’m not sure if I should be grateful or agitated by his unfounded
insight.
I never asked for it either way.
 Bending forward he starts to clean up my mess before I mutter, “Leave
them.”
Looking at me a second too long, his nod is as clipped as it is formal, and
I know in some twisted way I’d been set up. He was testing me, but I’d
chosen correctly.
He’s almost disappeared back out the way he came, but he halts. The
faint curl of his lip rises as quickly as it falls back.
My spine tingles with awareness at the less-than-whole expression. He’s
looking at a group of flowers. The bluish-purple color unique but not any
less dazzling.
“Sometimes I wonder how we miss answers so plainly hidden in sight.”
“Maybe it’s not always about whether or not the truth is visible but if
we’re willing to look,” I say back just before he exits.
I swear I hear his smirk of approval.
Only after he’s gone do I chance to take my eyes away from where he left
and follow where they’d arched higher a moment after my comment.
A small crack rests in one of the panels. The roots are thick and plenty
where the flower pushed through despite the thickness of glass around it.
Checking the time on my phone, I concede it’s time to spread my roots as
well. To take a chance and be strong. Sure, I could be crushed all over
again, but safety is for the comfortable. I’ve never known either of those
things.
Obstacles are the only barriers that haven’t been tried yet.
It’s time to face mine, to see him.

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Forty-Three

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 Rory

WHEN I ARRIVE, I’M not surprised to see Eli here. He and Finn are
playing cards from his bed on the far side of the room.
Hailey had to help her mom again and I wasn’t sure about Abram, but I
knew he’d been in before as well. Everyone but me has visited.
It makes me feel like dog shit on the bottom of a brand-new shoe that I
haven’t come sooner but I have no one else to blame but myself. I
abandoned them.
No one has spotted me yet, so I chance a peek over at the other bed. My
throat’s thick and heavy, and I regret my decision immediately. The fired
nerves I had on the drive over disintegrate with a single glance.
While Finn and Eli are having as much fun as one can in a hospital, Cole
looks comatose. His focus is lost to the tiles of the ceiling.
He’s so still you could’ve mistaken him for being asleep. The blinks
every few minutes, are the only reminder he’s awake and alive.
Even that looks forced, like the little effort it takes is not worth it.
 My ribs constrict, sucking into the deepest parts of my chest, seeing him
like this. The glazed-over eyes and void expression remind me too much of
my mother to be coincidental.
Limp and lifeless. Here but not present. Breathing but not living.
Surviving but without purpose.
I suck in a sharp gasp and it’s Eli who catches it. Part of me is thankful
that he’s the only one who had time to see.
It takes effort to force the lines around my frown to smooth back out, but
I manage. In the past this would’ve taken no effort at all. My once-void
emotions now spiral in every direction without stopping.
A side effect of letting people in is you actually start to have reactions.
Suddenly, I’m not a fan.
Finn’s head whips around at Eli’s mention of my name. I don’t know if
he was even aware he’d done it. The way he’d spoken it, the sound coming
off as uncomfortable as I am to be back here.
My pulse thickens the bigger Finn’s smile grows. Everything inside me
screams to turn around and run.
This isn’t about me, I have to remind myself.
Choking down those nerves, I meet my brother’s smile with one of my
own. Only mine isn’t genuine. His face glows while mine, I’m certain, is
the color of ash.
I force my legs to move even though they are as heavy as wet sand.
The empty sound that Cole’s chest makes as he wheezes out a cough has
me stalling. The noise is gut wrenching and I swear my heart cracks right
down the center all over again.
He’s lost to his mind, and it’s another physical reminder of my mother.
How she too never escaped her burden. Trapped, she stayed in the paradise
of her mind forever.
My chest heaves. It’s all too much. It’s—
“Don’t do that, don’t cry. Not on my account, Princess. Please?”
That pounding inside my chest has my airways fully collapsing now.
Literally drawing to the point that my organs shouldn’t be functioning any
longer.
“If you want something to cry over, then take a peek at Finn’s new bald
spot,” Iceman antagonizes.
I know what he’s doing, he’s trying to distract me and as much as I hate
to admit it, it works.
Finn’s gaze cuts over to him with a disapproving glare.
“I think you’d look good with a buzz cut,” Eli notes, reaching over and
making the sound of electric clippers.
Finn reaches for his scalp, distraught. “Not my fault they had to do an X-
ray.”
In a split second, the world that’s crumbling around my feet reignites.
Those fractured nerves double over when my silvers meet his blues. They
are as clear as the walls of glass in the conservatory.
Cole’s smirk is low. Curving into that arrogant and cocky gleam I used to
despise. He knew exactly what he was doing, riling Finn up only to help
ease my tension.
I shake my head, that cocksure expression of his so pompously smug and
everything I didn’t know I wanted. Needed.
My toes curl because it’s like I’m seeing him all over again for the very
first time. Only this round there isn’t an ounce of hate to be found.
“Good thing you managed to snag a girlfriend before that catastrophe,”
Eli goads further.
 Finn pouts. “It’s not that bad. Rory, it’s not that bad, right?”
Thick fat tears fall, and I do nothing to stop them. I’m sure I looked
absolutely ridiculous laughing and crying at the same time, but I embrace it.
“You better not be crying on my account,” Iceman mutters but it’s
innocent.
“And how many times have I told you to stop being a dictator,” I rebuttal.
Reminding him exactly who he’s trying to be and that it doesn’t work for
me.
Cole rolls his eyes, and I blink double time. The action is so conducive to
his usually harsh personality. An easy grin settles on his face that lights-up
with pure bliss.
More laughter bubbles out. He’s found his way out; Iceman isn’t going to
be like Lillian.
This wave of reality smacks me right across the stomach. Those loose
batches of tears dry up as my shoes suddenly become fascinating. That
moment of ease ruptured like a bubble to a dull poke.
Cole may be okay, but we broke up. It shouldn’t be like this. We’re over.
Done.
The air thickens the longer it swirls with that one unresolved issue.
“Ya’ know, I think I could take a piss,” Finn says. “E, you coming?” He
asks already climbing from his bed.
They bypass the bathroom that’s in the room as they step out, but not
before Finn dips his head. It’s probably the least subtle gesture he could’ve
chosen but it says everything. Making his intentions as clear as his fresh
bald spot to Cole.
Don’t fuck this up, or I’ll end you, is what it says.
 “You know, I always did wonder why girls use the restroom together,” I
hear Eli start as they move down the hall.
“Guess we’re about to find out.”
I snort at their stupidity but it’s more out of my own anxiety at now being
alone with him. They’re trying to give us space, but I’m not sure if I’m
ready. My eyes are permanently planted on the floor.
After too long of stilled silence, Cole exhales down his nose and it
sounds pained. Long and immensely drawn out is what it is.
The crumbled rocks of our relationship spread out between us, but each
of us is too nervous to pick up the first stone to rebuild. Either we reform
the mountain or end up with more rubble.
Like debris particles, it’s all so up in the air.
“I’m glad you came. Finn was starting to get worried you wouldn’t show.
He wanted you here,” Cole starts and something inside me dies.
Did you not, Iceman?
“And you didn’t… want me here?” I clarify. My voice is as strangled as I
am.
Any second now and I was going to combust. I doubt I looked anything
but pitiful. That’s how I sounded at least.
Another beat, and then. “Would you lift your head for me, Princess?”
Stunned by his request, my body does as he asks, moving on autopilot. I
regret it immediately. His face is a sheet of solid steel, with sharp lines and
hollow cheekbones. A single vein in his neck pulsates.
He’s trying to keep his temper under control, and if I didn’t know him as
well as I do now, he’d have had me convinced it was.
We’re too far past that though. He’s as on edge as I am.
 The bruises marking his face do nothing to shield the truth from me. We
understand each other too well. Know too much.
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and his eyes narrow. I ignore that I
notice it.
“Do you know when you’ll be released?”
His lips thin out to the same paper-thin line of his slits for eyes and I’m
grateful he’s restricted to his bed. The distance makes this easier than if he
were closer. If he could touch me…
“You’re stalling.”
No, I’m lying, which isn’t much better. Hailey’s been keeping me up to
date on everything.
He answers me anyway, turning his head toward the window. “They
think it should be soon. Finn will be a few more days because he might
need surgery on his arm.”
The ticcing of his jaw holds all my focus.
Shuffling my feet, I clear my throat, awkward doesn’t begin to describe
this right now. This isn’t us, we aren't like this.
We’re like a flame trying to burn without oxygen. All we need is a breath
to spark. Question is, I’m not sure between the pair of us who’s willing to
offer it up.
“Princess.” That name is dropped from his mouth like he was desperate.
My teeth clench in anger, or is it sadness?
The intensity in those icicle eyes is too much, but I refuse to break. I’ve
been a coward enough lately.
“…I love you,” he says and my head is already moving, not wanting to
hear this. Anything but that.
 The sincerity in his tone nearly breaks me, slicing me right down the
middle.
“Why would you say that?” I ask, gasping.
“Because it’s the truth,” he snarls. “You know it. I know it. We’re both
stubborn and we both hurt each other but that’s only because we care so
intensely about the other. That pain cuts more deeply than either of us
deserves.”
“You walked out,” I remind him. Feeling as small as I sound.
“And have I given you an excuse? I know what I did, but I also
remember what you said, and pain is pain. It doesn’t mean I can’t still love
you.”
His lips purse, distress etched in every stunning feature of his face. Even
covered in bruises, he’s handsome.
My stomach flips. Guilt eating at me all over.
“What we have is unconditional. You’re it for me, Rory. There will never
be anyone else, I promise you that.”
His thumb strokes my throat while I swallow, somehow I’m already at
his side.
“Take me back.” Those jaded muscles in his cheeks relax a fraction at our
closeness. I’m allowing him this single touch. I need the memory of what
my skin feels like against his.
The lines along his neck thicken the more the tension builds. His aroma
engulfs my senses, his mouth is right there.
When had we gotten even closer? Leaned in more?
“Is that a yes?”
He’s right here and my heart is pounding. So aggressively does it move
that there’s no way he can’t not hear it.
 One small gust of—anything and I’d be his again.
I shouldn’t, but I do. I give in.
This attraction between us is too magnetic and irresistible.
I decide to share my decision with a kiss rather than words. Shifting,
Cole’s neck strains, adding more pressure, deepening the intensity. Him
telling me everything he feels without speaking, right back.
His tight hold on my cheek never wavers. The familiar calluses on his
strong hands hold me, never letting go.
Both of us are humming with hot energy as we break apart.
“You know that speech of yours, although nice, was unnecessary.”
The lust in those pupils of his morph with record-breaking speed. Those
normally clever eyes of his widen, flaring as my mouth curves higher. The
expression is one uses to destroy an enemy.
“How so?” Disappointment coats his every word. Not at what I said but
because we are talking, to begin with. He wasn’t done kissing me. The
twitch of his mouth the reminder of that.
“Didn’t you know?” My voice is honeyed as I flutter my lashes. “You
had me at please.”
He yanks, fisting the center of my shirt, and my breath hitches. That
familiar pressure building between my legs at his predatory stare. That
confident smirk.
A sharp hiss pushes out, the more the color in his pupil’s shade to the
color of frost.
Growling, that plump mouth of his slams back to mine. Slick and warm
he glides his tongue before biting at my lower lip. He can’t get enough, and
I don’t disagree.
I moan, not being able to help myself.
 There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. His kiss tastes like something I never
had before. Cole Kellet tastes like home.

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Forty-Four

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 Rory

I LEAN DOWN WITH the intention of giving Iceman a quick peck on the
lips, but he has other ideas. His arms snake, wrapping around the swell of
my waist. Pulling me closer, the same as yesterday.
One is never enough.
I squirm, making this all the more uncomfortable. It’s one thing leaning
over the railing of his bed, but it was another to kiss him while also trying
not to drop the vase of flowers I was holding.
“Baby, you know you didn’t have to get me those. I’m getting checked
out today.”
My stomach is full of air bubbles at the newfound ease on his shoulders.
For someone so injured, he’s more relaxed than ever.
“Good thing I brought them for Finn then.” I wink, dully, setting down
the vase on the table between their beds.
Cole’s faux pout is as adorable as it is sinful. My core muscles clench. I
knew he was in a playful mood but that smile of his that follows after
surprises me. Flutters things in my belly.
 For right now, he has too many injuries that need recovering before I’m
willing to attempt to do anything other than make out. That doesn’t mean
we didn’t get our fill last night before the other hellhounds returned from
the “bathroom.”
“Earth to Rory. Calling for my lil sis, over,” Finn says, putting a hand to
his mouth and muffling his words like he’s talking in a walkie.
The muscles in my back tense, embarrassed.
I mumble out a response letting him know I heard but I put too much
attention into fixing the already perfect bouquet.
It also doesn’t help that the room is packed. Eli and Abram are here too
but the most shocking visitor is Silas.
Straitlaced and rigid, he appears as uncomfortable as everyone else. For
different reasons, but still, any room with Cole’s dad in it drops about
twenty degrees automatically.
Abram’s the one who’d done it, something about parent-to-parent morals
or something like that.
“Did you pick these out especially for me since I am your favorite?” Finn
asks. He makes a show of flapping his lashes dramatically in Cole’s
direction, goading him.
Iceman’s arms stay crossed, even though he watches unfazed.
Finn lets out an annoyed heave in response to his lack of response.
“I thought these flowers might bring you a bit of luck,” I note, shifting
my weight more toward him.
“How so?”
“These are magic flowers.”
“Magic flowers? I thought those were in beans?”
I roll my eyes, wrong story. But that’s beside the point.
 “Not what I mean. What I was going to say is these flowers were
originally pink but changed to blue.” I state, getting us back on topic.
It was a strange occurrence but one that happened, nonetheless. The
bluish-purple color of them last night almost wholly the one shade this
morning.
“Will these flowers magically get me out of surgery?” Finn croons like a
child.
My belly warms with a comfortable chuckle. I can’t tell if he’s being
serious or not, but I don’t bother asking. It’s not worth it.
I do however cross my eyes and poke my tongue out at him after Abram
gets everyone’s attention. He’d asked if anyone wanted coffee, but it was
really only an excuse for him to pull Silas aside. Abram specifically asking
him to join.
Silas doesn’t do anything, not even a nod, but I can sense his aggravation
as he silently follows in step.
Then it’s just us. The hellhounds.
“No offense but Silas is the definition of hot dog water,” Finn delivers
when no one asks.
If I had a drink in my mouth, it would’ve been sprayed all over the room.
Hot dog water? Where does he come up with this stuff?
I could blame it on the concussion but that would be untrue, this is just
how Finn is.
Cole snorts and it sounds as malicious as he intended. “You know he only
came to make sure his investments are in working health.”
I doubt anyone else picked up on it, his slip of the tongue so demur, but
he’s said investments. As in plural, as in more than one person.
 “Speaking of,” I jump in before anyone else can get the chance. “Did
anyone else know Lorna used to work at Hardin?”
Eli shrugs. “Explains where Silas and her likely met.”
Finn’s mouth flattens, not impressed or amused. His DNA is still a
somewhat sensitive topic.
“I thought it was interesting.”
“Still doesn’t tell us where she is,” Eli utters.
True.
Flexing, Cole’s hand touches mine. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed
already dressed and ready to leave. All of us sticking around longer for
Finn’s benefit. His surgery is this afternoon.
Turns out his injury was worse than they originally anticipated, so they
decided it would be better to operate on his limb.
Hailey will be coming by later after she’s free. Not willing to miss seeing
him before and after he’s come back from the procedure.
It isn’t Iceman’s hand that makes me jump but the chilliness of it.
Dropping my chin, I realize it wasn’t his touch that was cold but the small
baton-like item that’s settled between our grasps.
The one thing his mother had left him before she committed suicide.
“You know what’s strange,” Finn muses, like something only now
occurred to him. His words pull my attention away from what’s locked
between our hands. “Mom always liked when Dad was gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dunno, she always seemed like she liked being somewhere else better.”
Goose bumps break out across my skin, another cold part on the baton
touching me as Cole’s grip tightens that much further.
 I’m listening but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was also admiring how
perfectly his hand fits in mine.
“Think it had anything to do with Abram buying the house for Rory’s
mom and not her?”
My head shoots up. “What?”
“You didn’t know?” Eli asks, taking in the stunned gazes of everyone
else as well. “I thought that was public knowledge.”
“No,” I splutter, choking on nothing but my own surprise. “It was not
public knowledge.”
“Whelp, that explains a lot,” Finn conveys when I’m too stunned to do
anything but stand with my mouth hanging open.
Abram bought the house for him and Lillian…
“Doesn’t matter where Lorna lived. The woman’s crazy,” Cole deadpans.
Not bothering to apologize to Finn for the crudeness.
That’s still his mom, even if it is true.
The sliver of respect Cole might’ve had for the woman gone as soon as
she tried to run them both off the road. The fire severing that harmony as
well.
I did say sliver.
“Has your dad been able to trace anything on her since she revealed
herself?” Iceman asks Eli, while silently starting to stroke my palm with his
thumb. Wordlessly telling me he’s got me. He’s not going anywhere.
“Not much, where she got you, there weren’t any stoplights. Not much
street lighting either.”
Great, so nothing.
“She did grow up in the system, what if she wanted peace of mind?”
“Explain,” Finn says, slowly peering around the group.
 These boys don’t get it, because they’ve only seen the world through
privileged lenses. Most people—normal humans—are not blind to everyday
struggles.
“Safety. Security.” It’s all anyone’s really after.
The room falls quiet, and it’s loud.
Finn now flicks at a nonexistent speck on his wrapped arm. Eli’s eyes are
at the window, and Cole’s hold has gone numbingly tight.
Before everything, their lack of response might’ve gotten more of a
reaction from me, but I’ve accepted it for how it is. The truth of our skewed
realities is very different.
They might think I’m an equal now, but because of my upbringing, I’m
desolate to them in this sense.
It’s Cole who cuts through the stiff peaks of imbalance. “Okay, so if you
were Lorna where would you feel the safest?”
“Somewhere she wouldn’t be constricted? Stuck,” Finn says, lifting the
nonbroken half of his body.
“You said she never seemed to like being at the Caspers’, so where else?
Any vacation spots? Spas? Stores?” Those don’t sound right even as I’m
saying them aloud.
They seem too uncomplicated for someone like Lorna. She’d have had to
have someplace more accessible. Closer.
My stomach lurches to my mouth. The force so strong and so sudden that
it makes me want to throw up right here on the spot.
How hadn’t I put it together before? The answer is so obvious.
“Hidden in plain sight,” I whisper. The words Sgt. Daniels had said the
other night hitting me with the speed of a freight train.
 My eyes ping-pong back and forth, not focusing on any one thing in
particular.
I know where Lorna is.
“I know where Lorna is,” I rush out, snapping my neck in Cole’s
direction.
The divots in his forehead deepen the more his confusion grows. I
haven’t explained myself further but it’s because I’m trying to process it all
myself as well.
Shock, that’s what I have to be in.
A batch of giggles escapes and I know I look ridiculous, but I also know
I’m right. I have to be. No other answer makes sense.
“We knew she had to be close, right?”
All three of them nod, and the unison is so straight lined you’d think
they’d practiced it before.
I point a hand in Finn’s direction. “And you said she liked when Abram
was gone. Preferred somewhere else?”
My heart pounds, but the impact of it all never wavers.
“Sh-she’s at your house. She’s at your house, Cole,” I divulge, repeating
myself in my own haste. “Lorna’s been at the Kellets’ the entire time.”
Jackhammering, my heart pulsates, overwhelmed by the truth.
“Think about it,” I say, gripping Cole’s elbow. “None of us hang out
there. You’re always over at the Caspers’. It’s close enough that she can
hide out undetected but keep an eye on us.”
I shake his limb, desperate in my need for him to see it too. For them all
to understand.
“It makes sense,” I add, staring at both Finn and Eli when Cole does
nothing. They see it, don’t they? Believe me?
 My eyes land back up on Iceman’s and he’s stuck, frozen to his spot. Not
even shaking his arm does any good. Those shoulder blades of his are stiff
peaks.
“Excuse me,” Eli acknowledges, putting his phone to his ear, as he sees
himself out of the room. It barely does anything to impact that swirling ball
of dread that’s come back as the adrenaline of it all starts to settle.
A part of me briefly wonders if he’d taken it because it was easier than
accepting what I’ve figured out. The impact of what I know is true.
Cole’s gaze is blank. Physically he’s here but mentally he’s somewhere
else. I can tell that in the way his eyes have hooded over.
What are you grasping, Iceman?
“Does Silas know?”
“I would assume so, but it’s a big house.” Cole acknowledges, answering
Finn’s question since that seems to be the only thing he can do other than
stare.
Finn’s teeth grind and my temple throbs.
“This is such a mess,” he balks.
I don’t disagree. Abram and Silas choose this exact moment to come
back. Coffees and a box of what I assume are donuts in hand.
Neither of them manages to get a word in because Eli’s right behind
them. Phone stuck to his ear like glue, hot on their heels.
The air ripples around him.
“I’m on the phone with Dad, he’s headed home.”
“Why?” Abram asks, oblivious to all this newfound information.
“Lorna isn’t currently at the Kellets’… she’s at mine.” He swallows and
it’s as heavy as the air in the room. “But she isn’t alone.”
My pulse drums. A cold sweat breaks out along every part of my body.
 Eli’s eyes are wolflike. The apprehension is too foreboding.
I might die of impatience if he doesn’t hurry up and explain himself. It’s
only after he opens his mouth—after it’s too late—I wish I could unhear
what he says next.
“Madison’s there too.”

OceanofPDF.com
Forty-Five

OceanofPDF.com
 Rory

THE HOUSE IS QUIET. We’re moving but there isn’t a sound around us.
Would it be a cliché to say, “too quiet”?
My legs feel numb, my palms are sweating, and I have this rising bit of
nausea in the pit of my stomach.
Blaring, my body warns me that something’s off, but it’s unneeded.
No one’s said anything—you didn’t have to. Like a bright flash of clarity,
you don’t have to see or touch it to know the truth.
Lorna’s here.
The air heightens, thickening the deeper we go. We have no clue if we
are one step closer to finding out the truth or falling into some sort of trap.
My eyes peer around the room, looking for anything out of place. I know,
realistically, it doesn’t do much good since I’ve never been inside Eli’s
house, but it brings me a strange sort of comfort.
It’s something to focus on other than how my shirt has melded to my
back. Sweat binding them together like cement.
 The Daniels’ home is larger than average but not as huge as the Caspers’
or Kellets’. Those should come with their own zip codes.
This home seems nice—normal.
Soft-green paint covers most of the walls. Everything else, from the
furniture, pillows, and the art on the walls, is lined with some sort of
mismatched, eclectic antique. It shouldn’t work but does.
Taupe accented curtains hang on the far side of the room. Blocking a
decent amount of light that threatens to shine through.
Unfortunate for our small mob of a group. Everyone from the hospital
tagged along except for Finn. He was replaced with Sgt. Daniels who
caught up with us.
That alone was an adventure in itself. The fragile root of our existence
further pieced apart after a single phone call.
Here’s what we’ve learned.
Lorna disconnected the cameras to the house, so the last image Eli’s dad
had before everything went black was Madison being let inside the home.
This wouldn’t have alerted anyone had the house not been empty. Eli’s
mom is driving his sister to the airport to drop her off.
Even more alarming is Sgt. Daniels said his wife was no longer picking
up her phone. We had no way of knowing if she was at the airport or arrived
home as we approached.
Everything’s so up in the air right now. Is Eli’s mom okay? Was Madison
a part of this all along? Why is Lorna here, of all places?
The further we go the more sightless I am… about everything.
The slight twinge of her fruity perfume wafts through my nostrils and my
nose pinches automatically in distaste recognizing the scent.
 I slice a look to Abram. His reaction is more subtle but not any less
confirming. We’re getting close.
My heart drills into my chest. Pounding, my breathing shallows out.
We’ve looped past the kitchen and are headed toward the bedrooms at the
back of the house. A blaring noise rings past my eardrums and everyone
halts.
A scream.
The shrill, painful sound is different from a normal one. This noise was
deep within the lungs. One of fear that comes straight from the heart.
Everyone’s already moving back toward the front of the home as the
choked-out noise is cut off. Whomever it was had been abruptly strangled
into silence.
Is it Eli’s mom? His sister?
The aged wood below us blossoms, screaming its own resistance to the
strain. The force of our migration ruthless as both Daniels’s men lead the
pack back toward the living room. Abram and Silas are next as Cole and I
take up the rear.
It’s Eli who reaches her first. Spotting a bleary-eyed Madison in the
center of the room with a piece of tape over her mouth. She’s tied to a chair
by her ankles, waist, and wrists.
The thick layer of mascara she usually wears is caked to her lashes as she
bounces in her chair. Eyes wild and large.
Either she’s a superb actress, or she’s petrified.
None of us get long to dwell on it because as soon as Eli starts ripping at
the tape, a slow, menacing clap sounds at our backs.
The sound is tactile and venomous as it reverberates around us as thunder
does in a valley. It’s the sound of power, victory.
 The noise blooms something inside my ribs. Everyone’s heads curve
following the pitch. Even Eli who’s on his knees stops what he’s doing to
join.
“What, no hello?”
“What do you want? Why are you here, Lorna?” Cole questions, taking a
half step forward. Determination rolls off his shoulders as he zeroes in on
her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Her tone was mocking. “I want what’s owed to me.”
Cole’s chest inflates. If his ribs are in pain right now, he doesn’t show it.
He’d never allow anyone, especially not a threat, to see how stricken he
really was.
My stomach heaves. “Is that why you came here? They have something
you want?”
Wincing, he side-eyes me only for a moment. The expression is too quick
for anyone else to see before that indestructible barrier is back in place. The
one subtle look humanizes him.
Cole’s as unsettled as everyone else.
Righting himself, Eli asks his own question. Jaw tight as he nods toward
a motionless, trapped Madison. “What about her?”
Lorna’s smirk is of a fiend. She acknowledges he’s spoken, before her
gaze shifts, sweeping the room like she’s taking inventory. The shadowed
line that crosses half her face makes her look all the more menacing.
Her smile turns teasing, and my body goes hard hearing the subtle sound.
The soft click.
Sgt. Daniels’s shoulders roll back at attention. He caught it too.
“This one was trying to ruin my fun,” she pouts. “Wouldn’t stop banging
on the door.”
 Madison bounces in her chair, eyes too large to be natural at the
unwanted attention. The sound of wood scraping wood, is like nails to a
chalkboard. Her muted screams fill the room.
Realizing in that moment he hadn’t removed the tape from her mouth, Eli
goes to reach for it but halts, hearing another click.
This time the sound isn’t as subtle. It overshadows Madison’s screams.
They too dying on her tongue. Slowly, Eli raises his arms, pretending to not
be alarmed like the rest of us, but he knew.
My sole focus is on Lorna and how her eyes gleam, shining of pure
white.
The temperature in the room escalated to an overwhelming level as soon
as Lorna lifted her arm. The shiny gleam of steel reflects off the crack of
light in the window behind her.
She rotates her wrist. The motion as uncaring as her head falling back on
a laugh like she’s forgotten she has a gun in her hand.
The woman has the nerve to look entertained by all this.
Suddenly, she snaps herself from her own reprieve. The movement as
easy as flipping a coin with your thumb. Only in this situation, there are
more than two ways this could end. Everything is as unpredictable as she is.
Lorna’s head cocks. The gleam in her eyes is menacing as she peers
down at Madison. Who, although quiet, continues to struggle to free herself.
“But don’t worry, I made sure she was welcomed,” Lorna adds. Her
voice scarily void of emotion.
This sends Madison’s attempts to escape into overdrive. Even in the
muted light, I can see the red lines forming along her wrist from where the
tape scrapes. Irritating her skin the more she tugs.
 I doubt she feels a thing, her adrenaline like everyone else’s mounted to
the maximum.
“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Silas says, and for some reason, the
action catches me off guard. Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s stepped
forward. Extending his arms in a surrender fashion. The same way Eli’s are
held.
It’s an astonishing sight and I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t witnessing it
with my own eyes.
“Make this easy.” Silas’s tone is as bland as his gaze.
The actions and words are startling coming from him. You’d have to be
dead or as crazed as she is not to sense her wariness. The stench of insanity
as strong as her perfume.
He takes another subtle step, testing his limits, easing into it and I chance
a peek over at Iceman, but I regret it. More unease wraps its way around my
stomach at seeing the pinched firmness on his face.
I’m watching Cole the same way he is his father. Silas’s gaze is on
Lorna’s, and Sgt. Daniels has eyes on everyone.
My skin heats following his line of sight and I finally catch on. A flicker
of some unknown purpose is painted across Silas’s face the closer he gets.
That’s what Eli’s dad is studying.
I stare slack-jawed because that’s all I can do. Something about all of this
is unnatural, artificial.
“You’re owed a prison cell without a view,” Cole spits snidely at Lorna.
“Don’t,” rushes from the side of Abram’s lips.
I’m unsure if he’s talking to Lorna or patronizing Cole for antagonizing
her further. Either way, it’s a loss for everyone involved.
 Not that anyone has much time to decipher it. Lorna and the gun she’s
holding making the decision for us all.
Shifting, her focus goes from one Kellet to the other. The gun in her hand
following the same path.
Her words are cold and stabbing. “Why?” Her mouth puckers in that
faux-sincere way again. “Mad your car was totaled or is it that you ended
up with a few scratches and your girlfriend’s made it out completely
unscathed?”
The way she says that with such ease is as alarming as her willingness to
see how wrong all this is.
“You tried to harm Rory multiple times,” Cole states effortlessly.
Refusing to give her the satisfaction of being intimidated. He keeps his
arms pressed to his sides even as Lorna’s finger adjusts on the trigger.
I glare, side-eyeing him.
For the first time since I’ve known him, I’m actively questioning his
judgment. He’s not shortsighted but right now he’s acting as if he is.
Cole’s antagonizing her and I doubt it’ll end well for any of us.
Her face shifts, eyes dancing between us. Unlike him who seems to not
care that there’s a loaded gun pointed in our direction, I take it more
seriously. Especially now that it’s moved back toward me.
Lorna’s lips shift into a sneer, flicking her nose. “She seems fine to me.”
This time it’s Abram who steps in. The words rush out with a venom-
fueled hatred so strong I have to fight not to flinch. “Rory wasn’t the one in
the car with Cole that night.”
Lorna swallows, and I can tell she’s unsure if she should believe him.
“Two people were in that car. I saw it,” she demands, admitting she was
there. Grunting, her hold automatically tightens around the base out of her
own frustrations.
Her hands have started to shake as well, but I know she’s listening.
Lorna’s sanity is hanging by a limp piece of thread.
“That wasn’t Rory that night, that was our son. You could’ve killed my
son,” Abram says, sagging into the weight of the truth. “You hurt Finn, not
Rory.”
Lorna’s limbs fully start to tremble now. The harder she tries to remain in
control, the more her eyelids stutter.
She had no idea.
Her movements increase the more the situation amplifies. The wheel’s
spinning, only it’s too bad the hamster is already dead.
“You’re lying!” she screams.
Her decision made.
“Want to see the hospital bill,” he refutes. “Or better yet, why don’t you
go visit him once he’s out of surgery?” Bitterness coats his every breath like
the vile poison that she is.
The truth paints her face into a startling shade of white as the gun drops
to her side.
I see it then, in some fucked-up way, Lorna actually cares about Finn.
She looks as if she’d rather walk through hot coals of glass than rehear the
painful news.
What she’d done, who she’d hurt.
The resolution is short lived, and the loaded steel is once again lifted. Her
anger pushing past the few sets of tears she doesn’t bother to wipe from her
cheeks.
The facts wash over with the intensity of a wave. There’s nothing for any
of us to do but wait as the siren finishes singing the lyrics to her deadly
song.
Reality as terrifying as it is tempting.
Lorna’s head straightens, startled. The tears drying up faster than if we
were in the desert. Her mouth twists, that action as detached as her sanity
the closer Silas moves.
Instead of reaching for the gun—like any rational person would—he
shifts, and it all becomes abundantly, hideously, clear.
The ground slips from beneath us all as my body goes into a paralyzing
state of numbness. Silas now stands beside her and my lungs clog.
It’s us versus them.
“This whole time, they’ve been in on it together,” Sgt. Daniels growls.
Not bothering to control his anger.
We’ve all been cheated. Duped.
Fucking pieces of shit. Both of them.
The only one who doesn’t seem taken aback by all this is Cole. Although
when it came to his father, his optimism was always nonexistent.
As quickly as a blink, the atmosphere shifts, and I’m once again thrown
onto a ride I didn’t ask to partake in. The charged space dips with the same
measure of saneness.
The blunt metal of the gun shines, only it’s no longer pointed at any of us
but at Silas himself.
The action happens so rapidly and so swiftly that not even he expects it.
Tactile as he is, he’s now the one in shock as it sits pressed to his chest.
No one goes to help Silas, even as that muscle in his cheek twitches.
“You double-crossing bitch!”
Had Lorna been the true game master the entire time, fooling everyone?
 The gun cocks and bits of saliva fly from his mouth, spewing out more
profanities. Her eyes are as empty as the darkness of the muzzle buried over
his heart.
One small pull of the trigger, and Silas Kellet would cease to exist.
“You lied to me!”
“No, Silas, you lied to me,” she defends with a hiss.
It’s no longer us versus them, but Lorna against Silas.
“You promised me the world. Everything I could ever dream of. You lied
and I fell for it. I”—she pushes the gun deeper—“believed you.”
A more giving person would probably feel sympathy for Lorna, but after
everything she’s done to me, I have nothing.
“I always put you first,” she demands futilely. “You admired me for it,
because you loved having the oversight, the control. You manipulated me,”
she snarls.
Even with his life in the very delicate state that it is, it’s obvious Silas
would rather hold on to his pride than be talked down to. He doesn’t
disagree, he doesn’t do anything.
And people wonder why Cole’s so headstrong.
It’s obvious Lorna loved Silas or at least she thought she had before
today.
I understand this because Lillian carried a matching stance for Abram up
until her death. The irony is both women's downfalls lay in their desperation
to be loved, cherished… appreciated.
The difference? Abram, I believe, did care for Lillian, whereas Silas’s
flaw is that he could never love anyone but himself. Not his dead wife, his
son, and most definitely not her.
Lorna, unfortunately for her, understands this too late.
 Her throat bobs up and down, still trying to deny what’s right in front of
her. This man feels nothing toward her.
“I made sure you were taken care of, didn’t I?” Silas says, finally
speaking up. “I made sure both you and Finn had a solid space to live, a life.
Implied a way to set you both up for success, did I not?”
Abram’s head jumps, snapping back at the same time his one eye starts to
twitch. Something bigger revealed in that statement than I fully understand
the meaning behind. Silas’s tone is too accusatory for it not to be.
“You only wanted me close so that I would continue to do as you asked.
Years I gave you,” she accuses. “Waiting because I thought you wanted me
more than her, even after what she’d done to herself. Still, nothing, and I
stayed, coming whenever you asked.”
Cole’s eyes blaze with quiet fury. She’s talking about Camellia.
“The entire time I let you have the upper hand, but I’m done. This…”
She chokes down a noise. “You made me hurt my son. Our son,” she
emphasizes, hands trembling.
“You did that on your own. I never asked that of you.”
“I did that for us!” she screams.
Lorna shifts her stance, and her lip starts to wobble with a sad smile. It’s
so naive it’s almost childlike.
“I did it so that we could finally have it all.” The volume of her voice
shifts to a panicked whisper. Her emotions are switching as fast as the
placement of the gun had earlier.
“I have it all,” Silas hollers right back, and it’s the wrong move.
The comment sets that hysteric meter of Lorna’s from hysterical to
certifiable.
 Silas’s neck straightens and his palms shoot up. Vile hatred spews from
underneath her wetted lashes. I can’t tell if her tears are more out of fury or
heartbreak. Both?
“Wrong,” Lorna says, twisting the barrel like she wishes it was a knife
instead of a gun stabbing his heart. “You don’t have Hardin anymore,
remember?” Her tone no longer carrying any remorse or sympathy towards
the man.
In spite of everything going on around us, the only thing I’m grateful for
is that Finn isn’t here to witness this. To hear the cruelness that’s being
spewed. He doesn’t deserve it.
“And now, the only baby you ever loved, Hardin, is all gone.” The gun
rotates towards the other Kellet in the room and my heart literally stops.
“Guess you no longer serve a purpose either. Same as me,” Lorna bites out
darkly.
The bleakness of her grin turns Cheshire-like now that the gun’s pointed
at Cole.
“Why are you here?” Iceman asks, unblinking, unafraid still as he shifts
the topic back to what I swear is a lifetime ago. The entire reason we’re at
Eli’s house to begin with. “You know something,” he adds. Those keen eyes
of his never missing a thing.
Her mouth droops, hysterical hyena fits of laughter erupting from her
windpipe.
“Straight to the point, just like your father,” Lorna chortles even as Cole
winces at the unwanted comparison. “That’s correct. I did. The problem is
I’m no longer sure if I want to be so helpful.”
The gun moves, resting under her chin like a hand should, before she
moves it again. Her eyes have gone so wild and sporadic, like her actions,
that I doubt she’s noticed she’s even taken it off him.
I breathe a silent breath of relief.
“Why should I? It’s not like Silas would appreciate me more for it,” she
hiccups, delirious. Her wrist flip-flops back and forth.
Then the tip of the deadly metal is rammed under Silas’s chin. Lorna’s
smirk is alive and bright. That of a fiend.
He swallows. The man who is only ever arrogant is suddenly scared.
More than that, he’s petrified. His entire one personality trait, shifting.
The pawn she’d been in this man’s world, has disintegrated.
Never moving her arm, Lorna looks over her shoulder right at Sgt.
Daniels. “Gotta say I was a little shocked to find out what your wife had
done though. Didn’t realize we’re so… similar.”
She’d paused before that last word like she was debating, even though
it’s clear she knew what she wanted to say.
I want to reach for Cole, but I’m too stunned to move. What’s she talking
about? If Eli’s father knows what she’s referring to he refuses to give it
away.
The only thing he does is exhale, but it’s deep.
The muscles in Silas’s neck work, face flushed now as her focus goes
back. “Men always do underestimate women though,” she muses, winking.
The playfulness of the action far too similar to the good-naturedness of her
son’s.
“Not when you choose to manipulate,” Abram growls. Making himself
present once again.
Lorna glances between the pair of them, so hard you’d thought she was
plucking at the strings of a fiddle.
 Neck craning back to Silas, her arm is rod straight. The bottom of his
chin moves higher. “You know, I thought I wanted you. Now I only want to
take from you, and I plan on doing just that—”
“—Wait!”
Everyone’s head, even Madison’s, who I honestly forgot in the midst of
all this chaos was here—with her tape-covered mouth turns sharply at the
new voice.
“I have what you want,” the female says, stepping farther into the dull
light.
My brows pinch in confusion, knowing I’ve seen that short blonde bob of
a haircut before. For the life of me, I can’t remember where.
Then it hits me.
Before—the first time, she’d been wearing an awful tweed suit the color
of boogers. It was awful then and I’m positive if I saw it again, I’d think it
in the same matter.
I mumble, “Samantha,” at the same time, Eli says, “Mom?”
Our heads turn in the same stunned direction. Neither of us
understanding the other.
Mom?

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Forty-Six

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 Rory

HER SMIRK FADES INTO a loose nothing. “Actually, it’s Sarah.”

Is she sure?
I’m pretty positive it was something else. Sophia maybe?
That day in Alma’s office before I found out my mom had died and I’d
be living with Abram, I could’ve sworn she said her name was something
different.
Not that it matters, those kind eyes have that same loaded sense of
determination as they had that day. A lifetime ago…
This is Eli’s mom?
I don’t get the chance to dwell on it too long because there’s some sort of
shuffling. By the time I look to see Sgt. Daniels has already charged Lorna.
No doubt using the interruption as the perfect excuse to jump into action.
She dodges him, anticipating his move, but he’s faster and more canny
and effortlessly bests her.
Reaching, he takes the gun by the muzzle with one hand, using the other,
he grabs her wrist and twists. The move performed as flawlessly as if he’s
done it thousands of times.
She screams in her surprise as the gun is kicked to the other side of the
room.
“Who the hell are you?” Silas spits while Lorna struggles. Her arms are
now restrained to her back.
Eli’s dad may not physically have a hold on Silas like he does Lorna but
he’s keeping an eye out all the same. Identical to all the other guys in the
room.
Now that the weapon’s gone, Silas has taken it upon himself to move into
the next stage of business. Ever the capitalist.
Sarah—Eli’s mom—seems unfazed by the question. Her mouth lifts
before flattening back out. Is she…amused?
“What? Don’t remember me? I was your secretary,” she drawls.
Her voice carries the kind of sweetness that comes off nice, but you’d
never be able to tell if she’s actually being engaging or if it’s sarcasm.
I instantly like her more because of it.
Lorna, with her cold-blooded eyes, looks the least shocked of everyone.
A strangled noise gurgles as it seeps from her lungs. Handfuls of loose, dark
hair frame her face from where they’ve fallen out of her once-perfect bun.
Sgt. Daniels’s grip tightens further. Moving the one limb underneath her
forearms. It gives her that much less access to move.
Silas’s teeth show and they’re too sharp. “That doesn’t tell me anything.
I’ve had hundreds.”
Does this man hear himself? Understand how awful that sounds?
Doubtful.
“Mom,” Eli says, dipping his chin. “What is that?” Referring to the item
in her hands.
 Glancing down, her mouth does that thing again, only this time when it
lifts, it holds, staying. “Dunno, it’s not mine.”
“Whose is it then?”
Sarah shrugs, speaking to the room even though it is Silas who’s asking
the questions. “I would assume whoever has the key to open it. That’s
usually how these things work.”
“Who gave you the box?”
She doesn’t stutter. “Your wife.”
“My wife?”
Cole, who’s still partially blocking me, that already oversized frame of
his widening further at the startling comment. More so than it should be
possible, does it flex.
Silas’s mouth splutters. “What’s inside? Why would she give it to you?”
“Again. I said I don’t know what’s in it.”
The short, snappy answers are driving Silas that much quicker to Lorna-
level insanity. I’ve never been one to side with Silas and I never will, but I
can’t decide if she’s being vague to upset him or honestly doesn’t know.
Silas’s mouth is open, ready to spew out whatever else he wants to know,
but then it’s snapped closed at Sgt. Daniels’s murderous glare. It’s nice to
see at least one man showing respect toward his wife.
His tone is less harsh. Barely.
“Why did Camellia give you that?” he says, trying again.
Sarah’s smile turns sad, and it’s confusing.
Eli takes a gentle step toward his mother, but she raises a hand to stop
him and he backs off.
“Camellia’s the entire reason we moved back here. Made me an offer I
couldn’t refuse—our family couldn’t refuse,” she corrects, sounding choked
up. Briefly, her gaze connects with her husband. “And in exchange, all I had
to do was hold on to this for her.”
Iceman lifts a finger. “Abram, did you know about this?”
“Our previous head of security was getting close to the age of not being
able to perform at our standards. By the time he did retire, another was
lined up, preapproved by the board.”
So, Sgt. Daniels had been set in place? For how long, how many years?
“You said you were a secretary, same as Lorna…” Cole says and lets the
sentence die there.
Sarah picks it up, understanding where his mind has gone. “I was several
secretaries before Lorna. That’s where Camellia and I met.” She shudders.
“She… uh—found me.”
“Found you?” Now I’m the one asking questions.
“It was late. I didn’t expect anyone else to be there… but she’d walked
out the elevator as I was heading back to my desk.” Sarah gulps and it
carries with it the heaviness of the room. “The tears hadn’t even had time to
dry off my face yet, so there was no point in trying to conceal the red welt
on the side of my cheek.”
Distress etches every crevice of her face and I want to dry heave. I don’t
have to look over at Silas to know what she’s insinuating. He’d hit her.
Slapped her across the face.
Was it with an open palm? A closed fist? Or something else entirely?
Not that the specifics matter, what’s concerning is that he’d done it in the
first place. That he keeps getting away with it.
Anger radiates off Cole like a fever. He’d done the same thing to his
mother, countless times.
I step around him. “When you say Camellia made you an offer?”
 “After the incident, I quit. Left the city out of…” Her tongue clicks as her
eyes roll to the ceiling. “Embarrassment, I guess.”
“Then what?”
“I went back to college… met your father.” She lifts a hand from the box
toward Eli. “Life happened, and I moved on. I was young. Naive…”
“You were young and taken advantage of, but not naive,” Cole clarifies.
He defends her like his life depends on the single sentence.
The way he says this, though, comes off rehearsed, like he’s practiced
saying it a thousand times in his mind. In some twisted way, it’s as if he’s
saying those words to his own mother. Or what he would have if he’d ever
gotten the chance.
“But you came back?” I say with distraught awe.
She nods, inhaling. “She’d helped me that night. Got me cleaned up and
made sure I had a safe ride home. Camellia, she was… kind.”
Of all people to go to for solace, her eyes find Cole’s. Some sort of
wordless understanding passing between them. The side of his mouth tugs
after a few long seconds and then his head’s turning and he’s looking the
other way.
The despair is thick in the once hostile room.
Cole’s touching me, and I know it’s out of his own need, but I can hardly
feel it. My resentment numbing me to everything else.
How is Eli’s father remaining so calm? How could he stand to work next
to someone who’d done that to his own wife? Be in the same building
where it happened?
Sarah had said Camellia made them an offer her family couldn’t refuse.
Did that offer include the promise of a stable, well-paying job for her
husband? A nice home and an education that could set her children up with
the best possible chance at a bright future.
I meet her gaze and it’s telling. That’s exactly what she’d done. What
she’d agreed to by taking that box.
Sarah’s forgiven Silas, I see that now.
It’s not because he deserves it, but so she can move on for her own sanity.
Enjoy the rest of her life, while knowing her family is taken care of. Given
the best opportunities.
Told you. There are lots of things people claim they want but safety and
peace of mind, whether we want them there or not, are always at the top.
That’s why Sgt. Daniels put up with Silas. Not because he isn’t pissed—
which any decent man would be—but because his wife asked him to move
past it.
“So, you left, and she gave you this box and you come back?” I ask,
rounding us back to the start. This has to be the whole reason why Lorna
broke in.
“No, she didn’t reach out again until several years later. After I’d
graduated and became a registered nurse.”
Her lids cushion in fondness, and it’s easy to tell she cared for Camellia.
Thankful for what she’d given her family. For helping her that night at
Hardin.
“Her visit was random, the same as it had been that night. Appearing like
she somehow knew she was needed.”
“She was good at that,” Cole mentions, and with the hushed way it comes
out, I don’t think he meant to say it aloud.
He’s been clinging to every word spoken of his mother. His bottom lip
rolls as he pulls it through his teeth.
 “She’d told me she needed my help and after she helped me that night, I
couldn’t refuse her.” Sarah’s voice cracks at the sentiment.
Drawing attention away from her face, she lifts, shaking the front part of
the box that isn’t pressed to her stomach.
“Said she’d give me and my family everything and more if I was patient
enough to wait, and all I had to do in exchange is hold on to this box for
her.”
“She never told you what’s inside? Mom, what if it’d been a box of
drugs?” Eli asks, aghast.
Sarah scoffs at her son’s harsh words, refusing to humor him for even a
moment.
“But you don’t have the key?” I ask.
Her head shakes side to side, sluggish.
“Well then, who does?”
“You never wondered what was in it?” Eli asks, overlooking Silas’s fury.
“I figured if she wanted me to know she’d have told me.” She exhales
down the bridge of her small nose and the sound is painful. “I came home
after dropping off your sister, and I heard the shouting, and knew it was
time.”
Time for what?
Fortunately, she doesn’t make us wait long, answering as if she could
read all our minds.
Her breath turns choppy. “Whatever’s in here is important.”
“Did she say if it was meant for anyone in particular?” Silas asks, already
reaching for it. Sgt. Daniels shoots him another scathing look and his arms
fall back to his side.
 If the ice the man was on before was thin, now it has the flimsiness of a
satin ribbon.
“I think the box was meant to be opened with this,” Cole says, reaching
inside his pocket. His palm opens back up, and my eyes jolt.
The loss of his overheated touch makes me deflate more than it should.
Our connection is too strong, that pull between us severe.
The small baton-looking item that once served no purpose at all
somehow finding its function. Its sole purpose.
“Would this help?”

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Forty-Seven

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 Rory

SILAS’S FACE TWISTS IN disgust. “What is that?”

His son’s morphs into a similar hostility, only his is directed at his father
and not the object in his hand. “You got anything better, old man?”
Holding it next to the box, it becomes evident that although a good idea,
the thin object doesn’t fit. It’s small and looks about the right size, but it
only has a thin stem. The ornate oval bow on one end appears to be more
for decoration.
The other side has a notch down the middle, but that wouldn’t conform
either since it’s concave to the rest of the metal.
Eli rips the tape from Madison’s mouth after she groans into it. Why no
one had thought to untie her since the gun was taken from reach and Lorna
held back is startling. Everyone was too invested in everything else going
on.
On the plus side, this is the longest amount of time I’ve ever been around
her and she was quiet. Not a proud moment to shed light on, considering the
situation, but facts are facts.
 Working her sore jaw, Madison mumbles her appreciation.
I flick at the minuscule indent on the edge of the stem while Eli gets to
work undoing the rest of the tape from her arms and legs. Freeing her fully
once and for all.
“I think something goes here,” I wonder, rubbing my thumb over it again.
“It appears to be some sort of clasp.” Something another item would slide
into.
“You all are so stupid,” Lorna’s shrill voice whines. Those feral eyes of
hers shift between us, while she stays stuck in Sgt. Daniels’s strong hold.
Her breath chortles and it echoes around the room. Not a single person is
amused.
Cole steps into her, those icy blues of his disgusted as he rakes them over
her figure, searching. His confidence never bolsters.
“Where is it?” He asks with a rough edge to his tone.
“You think Camellia would’ve made it that easy? I thought you were her
child. You should know better than anyone how she was.”
“Where’s the missing piece, Lorna,” Abram asserts through clenched
teeth.
Lorna tsks, and it’s infuriating how well she holds herself even while
held back. Her disinterest for everyone is almost intimidating.
We aren’t thinking like her, is what Lorna’s saying without saying it.
If the others are talking around me, I’m no longer listening, stuck in my
mind. My concentration is elsewhere as I start to chew on the nail of my
thumb.
Lorna had said Cole should know Camellia better than anyone. If that’s
true, then where would Iceman put something that he didn’t want to be
found?
 Somewhere far enough out of reach from everyone else that it’s safe but
also accessed again if needed.
She gave the box to Eli’s mom, and the baton-like item to Cole, who else
would she have trusted with something so personal?
We don’t know what’s in the box, but whatever it is, it has to be
important enough that Lorna broke into the Daniels’ home to get it. My bets
on it involving Hardin and Silas because she’d admitted she’d done it
originally for him.
Whatever is in this box is the answer to where his portion of the company
had gone.
Think, Rory.
Think.
“Would you stop that?” Madison complains, shielding her eyes. “You’re
going to make me go blind.”
She’s free for less than five minutes and she’s already ridiculing me and
nearly giving me a migraine in the same breath.
Mine lids narrow. The terseness of her voice rips me back to reality.
Maybe we should’ve kept at least her mouth taped up. My grim smile tells
her that’s exactly what I’m thinking.
Her head jerks, panicked and alarmed all over again.
I only humor her, because she’d distracted me from my train of thought,
as I follow her line of sight. Not like I made a whole lot of progress
anyway.
She’s talking about my bracelet, and I flick my wrist. The slight shift
causes the light to dance off the shiny metal crescent. The exact same way it
had the gun before it was taken away.
 “Can you give it a rest?” she berates with more fervor. Squinting now, I
cover it while shooting another scathing glance in her direction.
I hold it firmly before I flick my arm. The pendant gleams under the
small batch of light that’s peeked through the curtained window.
We’ve been through a lot, old friend.
Peering up through my lashes, it’s not Abram I expect to be studying me.
He’s watching me with the same intensity as everyone else had on a
lucrative Silas earlier.
His focus shifts back down. The move is subtle but I know his stare has
landed on the threaded fabric that makes up the base for my bracelets.
Something flashes in those keen pupils of his, but he never voices it.
Continuing to stand there, scratching at his chin, while deep in
concentration.
Strange.
Tracing, I start at the top, running my digits across the cool metal. They
come to a stop at the center, and the movement is paralyzing. As if my
limbs were forced to stay, stuck at where the hook clasps to the pendant.
How hadn’t I spotted the bizarre uniqueness of the pinch clasp’s location
before?
Why would it be at the center and not directly around the top? Not unless
it was meant for something else. Held a dual purpose…
My eyes shoot to Cole’s. My neck cranes with the elasticity of a rubber
band stretched too thin.
How hadn’t I spotted this before? Thought more of it?
All these years… this time…
I don’t understand my emotions, so it’s impossible to understand my
reaction to them as well. Part of me wants to laugh and the other part wants
to kick myself for being so ignorant.
I’m thankful when my choked-up airways are the only thing to push out a
much-needed lungful of air.
Those thick brows of his dip, shoving so close together you could’ve
confused them for one. He watches as I do the one thing I haven’t done
since Alma tied them on that night at the diner when I was a child.
Over a decade ago, the items were placed and now they are being
removed from its home for the first time. I take it one step further and
unhook the crescent moon pendant from its clasp and shove it his way.
More fits of my hysteria bubble out. Does he see it? How could he not?
A crescent moon is special. Darkness will always have light if you keep
it. You keep it, you have the answers.
“The moon is key,” I blurt out.
I’ve had the answer the whole time.
“Don’t you get it?” I say, worked into a frenzy now. My veins are
charged and pulsating.
He’s not understanding. It’s not dawning, same as everyone else so I
show them what I mean. That I’m not crazy.
Taking the baton, the charm of my bracelet slides into that notch at the
end. Too perfectly does it go, does it fit.
It snaps, clicking in place and the action is so smooth it’s as if it’d always
been meant to be there.
I feel the weight of everyone’s stares. The former confusion shifting from
apprehension to amazement with a single adjustment.
The giddiness I have inside is overwhelming. This is it. This is the
answer, the solution. It’s right here.
 Holding the now combined item up to the light, it’s impressive. Like two
missing souls that have found their way back to each other.
“The whole time…” Cole swallows, but it comes out choked and with a
rasped awe.
“Well,” Silas enunciates. Impatient when neither of us makes a move to
try and unlock the box. “Go on, open it.”
My limbs tense. The excitement of before chilled back down to the
realness of what this means. We’ll be able to open the box. Know what
Camellia wanted all this time. How this involves Hardin.
“No,” Cole snaps suddenly. Firing off a scorching sideways glance his
way.
“No?” Silas responds, mimicking his shock.
“Did I stutter, old man?”
The guy should be grateful to still have the freedom to roam after the bus
he tried to throw us all under.
Iceman’s features are stony, but those eyes… I’m not sure if they’re so
alive because of the hatred he has toward his father or because this involves
someone he cares so deeply for. Silas’s impatience is ruining the sentiment
of what this all means.
“How did I manage to have a son so dense? Open the damn thing! Be a
man and take control.”
Cole doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink, not a single fucking muscle is
elevated.
He’s fighting himself. Eighteen years’ worth of deeply rooted aggression
pent-up inside his body. This one small item, the only thing keeping him in
check.
 It’s truth keeping him from not demolishing Silas in the way that he
deserves.
Fighting himself, that’s what Cole’s doing. He doesn’t want to be
anything like the abusive man he shares DNA with.
His fingers are twitching, jumping at his sides but he doesn’t raise them.
Doesn’t try and throw an arm. No one would blame him if he did, but that’s
where he and Silas differ.
Much to everyone’s disappointment, Cole moves but it’s not in his
father’s direction. The action is only to further close my hand that’s still
around the newfound key. He still hums of quiet danger, but he’s reined in
his temper.
Momentarily.
“There’s a reason she chose you,” he says only loud enough for me to
hear. This conversation is not meant for anyone else as he lasers in on me.
Only me. Only him.
That’s what this is about. Both of us parts in a game we didn’t ask to play
in.
Unlike with his father, the eyes he has for me are anything but sure. “She
wanted you to have it, Princess. Whatever’s inside is yours.”
My breath catches, disagreeing. “She gave you half.”
He rotates his head. No. That’s what he’s telling me.
This is all for you.
My skin prickles but I take the box from Sarah. I keep my focus there,
avoiding her the same way I do everyone else. My mind is careening
everywhere.
Everyone’s eager, but I snap myself out of this nervous fog and straighten
my nose. Whatever’s inside is meant for me, I say, repeating that mantra
several more times in my head before I move the key toward the hole.
It goes in readily, and my throat bobs.
My skin flattens to my stomach at the air I refuse to give. It stays
imprisoned to my curiosity.
My palms are damp, coated with nervous flutters of excitement only…
it… doesn’t work?
Poking my tongue out, I try and turn it again but the same thing that
happened the first time happens again. Nothing. It won’t move.
Searching, I find Cole’s eyes—always him—confused and flabbergasted.
Why isn’t it turning? It should move. It won’t open.
“Get on with it. Stop stalling,” Silas fumes.
“…She can’t,” Madison says with a low sigh. “It won’t go.”
My shocked lids meet her ever-honed ones.
“Rory was wrong, it’s not the right key. It’s not going to open.”
The way she says this. It doesn’t come off hostile like I expect it to and
my already shaking knees want to collapse because of it. She’s just making
the observation, zero snark.
Determination rolls off me in waves, and I want to prove her wrong, so I
give it another twist. This has to be right. Too many things add up for it to
be incorrect.
Again, I try and am only left disappointed. The lock doesn’t even attempt
to budge.
“Let me try,” Silas says, forcing his way through. “Typical. Women need
a man’s touch.”
“Touch”—Cole emphasizes, yanking him hard by the lapels before he
gets the chance to get any closer to me—“her again, or even attempt to, and
you’re losing whatever part you even think about touching on her.”
 He grins but there’s something plastic about it. It’s about as short and
clipped as his tone.
“Got it?” Cole flares, slamming his father’s head back into the wall. “Are
we clear, old man?”
That smile turns sinister. We’re past angry, Iceman’s raging all over
again.
Even with the heap of bruises marring the one half of his face and ribs
that must be screaming—terrifying as it is—he still takes my breath away.
That careful restraint he’d shown before, gone the moment Silas
attempted to make a move toward me.
“Rory is more than capable of handling herself,” he grunts. Lasering in
on him more than he already was.
“She needs to be shown how to be put in her place.” Silas gyrates,
mimicking the same energy.
I don’t have time to do anything other than blink and both men are on the
ground. A mix of fists, arms, and limbs shuffling everywhere.
Twisting, somehow Cole lands himself on top. Digging, his thighs go
into Silas’s stomach, holding him in place.
It’s a toss-up who’s lost more blood by this point, it gushes the more it
smears their tattered and torn clothing. Fresh and old wounds splitting back
open at their jostling.
It seems like forever—but in reality, it’s probably only minutes—before
anyone steps in, time slowing the longer they continue to go at it.
Both Eli and Abram step in, but with how high Cole’s rage and
adrenaline are right now, it’s not enough. His pores are filled with straight
titanium.
 Stepping in, Sgt. Daniels becomes involved just as I make a move to try
and help as well. Everything else is forgotten for yet another round of these
ever-shifting goals.
He beats me, but it’s for the better. The trio of them are finally able to rip
the two men apart.
Abrams in Iceman’s face, talking him down, but I doubt he’s registering
any of it. His eyes are too crazed and more than partially out of focus.
His breathing is the only thing that seems to be mellowing out a fraction
and even that seems like a stretch.
That is until a scream rips out, pushing past Madison’s lungs. The shrill
sound as alarming as it had been that first time. Whooshing, it moves its
way throughout the household yet again.
My ears ring, ricocheting, but it’s not from her wails of hysteria. This
buzzing is from a different noise. A fatal, lethal sound.
Someone’s gotten ahold of the gun, and it’s just gone off.

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Forty-Eight

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 Rory

BEFORE I HAVE TIME to acknowledge anything other than the sound of

the bullet leaving its chamber, I’m shoved to the ground.
I’m crushed between Cole and the solid oak floors of the Daniels’ home.
Pressing farther, he shields me, protecting my body with his. My head is
smashed in the same fashion. Iceman putting my safety over his own.
I don’t know where to look or move, not that I can do much of either.
Every part of me is a mixture of stress and turmoil.
Cole makes himself seem inhuman. His entire being may be made up of
more muscle than actual flesh but there’s no way it’s not screaming. Mine
is, and it’s underneath him, and I haven’t gotten into a fight or been in a car
accident.
I wouldn’t be surprised if those bruised ribs weren’t broken. At least a
few had to be.
His blood oozes, dripping into my hair and spilling into the back of my
shirt, but he holds strong. Never wavering or letting me go. Not until he’s
sure it’s safe.
 There shuffling and then some grunts of struggle, I’m positive they are
from Lorna. Another yelp follows and then I hear more struggling.
“We good?” Cole asks after what I swear is forever. Tone as serious as
the situation could’ve been.
“Yeah,” Eli says, sounding winded.
A wave of relief hits me. Eli’s speaking so that means he has to be
alright.
“You’re not human,” I grumble after he jumps back up to his feet and
extends a helping hand. Cole shouldn’t have this kind of energy right now.
The edge of his mouth hovers like he’s trying to conceal a smirk while
mine hangs the other way.
“I’m not being callous. I’m serious.”
Snorting, he tugs at my begrudging form, and I choke back a breath at the
unexpected closeness. My front is now pressed to his.
“Of course, you are, same as you always thinking you’re right.”
My eyes widen. “I am.”
“Sure you are,” he responds, scraping his tongue over his teeth. In spite
of everything that’s happened, that stupid little smirk he shoots me makes
my heart pitter-patter that much faster.
“You’re such a dick.”
“You love my dick,” he croons right back.
Now I’m full on scowling. “Fine. An ass then.”
“My second-best feature.”
I roll my eyes wanting to deck him, but I don’t. He’s gotten into enough
scuffles lately and I’m not sure my heart could take much more, so I drop it.
Our lips have barely had the chance to brush, and our names are being
called.
 It’s probably for the best. Cole’s distraction was so intense I’d
momentarily forgotten about everything else. Who was okay? Where had
the bullet from the gun landed?
Iceman shoots Eli an ugly glint over my shoulder when he thinks I’m not
looking but I discount it unlike everything else.
Silas is hunched over, confined to a corner on the far side of the room.
He’s holding his elbow as he groans in pain. His face is puffy, swollen, and
caked in layers of half-dried blood. He’s awake and breathing though, him
being spared that one gift is enough for me.
Lorna, however, isn’t moving at all. The small puffs to her chest are all
too common. Waves of familiarity crash over me from that day in the
conservatory when she’d been knocked unconscious.
Today I didn’t know if it was from her own doing or someone else’s. Not
that I cared either way, but I bet she and her doctor would once they both
realized she needed another new nose.
That is if she can afford it. I don’t know many people in jail who can
manage the luxury.
Eli waves us over. That gleam in his eye grows more prominent the
closer we get. “Come on, guys, hurry up,” he jeers excitedly.
The box, the one I’d set down when I was going to help Cole before Sgt.
Daniels stepped in, now sits with a large black hole down the middle where
the keyhole used to be.
“We’re lucky Lorna isn’t a better shot,” Eli jokes—but it feels too soon—
handing me the once locked box.
He was kidding when he’d said it, but is she really that bad of a shot?
She’d hit the bull’s-eye dead on. Unless that wasn’t her target at all and
somehow her aim had been thwarted.
 “You do it,” I say, shoving the box at Cole, too nervous. Flashes of white-
hot panic crash over me.
“She gave it to you,” he says, gently pushing it back. Reminding me that
he doesn’t want it, whatever’s inside.
I give him a droll stare in return but do what he asks. Well, sort of. I do
open the box, I just let Eli take out what’s within.
Which isn’t much if we’re being honest. It’s nothing more than a single
sheet of paper.
I wrap one arm around Iceman’s waist after he tugs me underneath him.
The adrenaline of earlier must be wearing down, the aches setting back in
its place because he winces. I silently apologize and he kisses the top of my
head, telling me he’s fine in the same wordless fashion.
I inhale as Eli clears his throat.
My grip tightens but this time he doesn’t recoil, a solid body of strength
as we wait. Eli’s eyes are skimming the document, growing larger the
longer he leaves the rest of us in limbo.
“What’s it say?” Cole, of all people, encouraging him to share.
Eli’s brows dip before separating after he’s finished reading. “It’s a will.”
If Iceman’s lungs weren’t already screaming, I have no doubt they are
now. They had to be because mine are. A will?
Eli hesitates, rereading it like he wants to be sure he’s seen it correctly.
My heartbeat thunders, that much more alive while I wait.
“And?” Madison prompts, eager after it’s been quiet for too long.
He blinks, and my heart rate drops.
Only I misinterpret his reaction, those cheekbones of his setting higher.
He isn’t upset but in shock.
This is huge. Life-changing big?
 “Rory,” he gulps, speaking only to me. “You own everything.” Another
swallow. “You’re the sole shareholder to the Hardin fortune.”
My brain stutters, literally every single part of my being pauses. I’d heard
him, registered what he’d said but it sounds like a foreign language.
Detached, that’s what I am.
Also numb, I can’t feel a thing. I could’ve been hit with that bullet and
my bones would’ve felt less.
“Are you sure, like sure, sure?”
This is serious. Not the time for kidding around or jokes.
“It’s all right here, her dying wish. Signed her name at the very bottom,”
he notes, tapping where I assume her signature is.
Not that he doubts Eli but Abram leans over his shoulder, plucking the
paper out, and does his own scan. Moments pass and then he has the same
—if not more—dismayed expression.
Gravity, is that still a thing? Because I’m almost positive mine is tilting
right now.
“Impossible,” Silas roars, finding the strength even after all the damage
caused by his son. “Let me see,” he demands, unconvinced in his
skepticism for it to be true.
I’d had the same thought, although I would never admit it.
All of Hardin. That’s what Eli had said.
I lick my lips, them too dry.
All of it?
“Camellia and I have a joint will set in place. There’s no way this one is
binding,” Silas rasps. A dark-red ooze sweeps over his teeth the more words
he manages to spit out.
 “I, Camellia Viviana Scarlet Kellet, being of sound mind and memory,
hereby make, publish, and declare, this to be my last will and testament,
thereby revoking null and void any other last wills or testaments,” Sarah
says, reading it word for word beside Abram.
She makes sure to put extra emphasis on the “void to any other wills or
testaments” part.
That twisted face of satisfaction shines brighter the more she continues to
review it aloud.
“I direct that as soon as practical after my death and once of legal age,
the sole beneficiary of all assets attributed and disclosed to the Kellets’
portion of the Hardin holdings be given to and allotted to the person who
holds the charm with the navigation to the light on a darkened path.”
“All shares, dwellings private or public, and investments forthcoming
will belong to this single party as it is indebted in my wish of dying that the
evidence of the current holder of the Kellet name be reduced to value by
equal amounts of debt I had received in my time of life.”
“Easily fought in court,” Silas asserts.
Sarah lifts a brow, reading ahead anyway. “It is my dying wish that
whomever I have trusted with this gift, that although small in size, the
burden of its value outweighs the rooted need for change.”
“Not possible,” Silas interjects yet again. Somehow finding the strength
to yell even as he stays stuck to the ground like a carcass of nothing.
“It’s. Right. Here,” Eli enunciates, futile. “Rory owns everything.”
I hug my stomach, staring at nothing. There are those words again.
“She did this on purpose,” Cole rushes out. “…She killed herself because
she knew it was the only way.”
 He swallows, but it’s rough. Same as the steps he’s taking backward. He
falters but recovers in the same beat.
That’s all he can seem to manage right now, gulping and backpedaling.
I’m trying to figure out what he means but his eyes are all over. On
everyone and no one.
He’s feverish. Strands of his onyx-colored hair tumble over his forehead
before he sweeps them back.
“There are only two ways to earn access to Hardin. You must be a direct
descendant, or…” Cole starts and then stalls not answering the last part of
his own statement right away. He’s standing here but his voice sounds so far
away.
When those blues connect with mine, my entire body hums.
What’s the other way, Iceman?
Those eyes of his are as raw as his voice is rough when he says, “Death.
That’s the only other way a request for transfer can be made.” He grabs at
his mouth, huffing out a deep chuckle. “Only someone with the correct last
name can make the appeal.”
Something unfurls in my stomach. That buzzing is back but I ignore it.
Is he saying what I think he is?
Upon her death, Camellia took it upon herself to transfer the shares. Only
she didn’t transfer them to who she should’ve.
She gave them to someone else knowing exactly what it would do.
Accepting how it would forever change Hardin. Impact future generations.
By putting everything in someone else’s name, someone who wasn’t
associated with this world, she changed multiple fates.
It’s eat or be eaten in this world, and I suddenly feel like I’ve been
handed both. All I was, was a match waiting to be struck. My birthday, the
one to adulthood, the spark.
That’s around the time Cole had started helping his father. It’s when
things started to shift. Oh my god. This is why Silas couldn’t trace anything.
Why would he think to look for something from his dead wife?
Oh my god!
Cole was right. Camellia committed suicide, but it wasn’t out of her own
need for escape but to ensure her son was offered one instead. To choose his
own life path, make his own choices.
Cole’s mother was giving him a gift, an opportunity she never had. She
sacrificed herself to ensure her son had a better future.
Finn, by technicality is both a Casper and, by blood, a Kellet. Neither of
those are an issue because he’s also made it clear he wants nothing to do
with Hardin. His dreams lay elsewhere.
…That means I’m the sole heir to the Casper name.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit—
Eli had been right. I own everything. Hardin, and the billions it’s worth is
mine.
My insides drop to my feet, but I’m too stunned to bend down and pick
them up. I can’t do anything because I can’t move.
Camellia had had the last laugh. My eighteenth birthday was the final
mark to a plan set years in the making.
“She can’t do this,” Silas seethes, and I’m not sure if he’s talking about
me or the dead wife who’d bested him from the grave.
“You were outsmarted, old man,” Cole rages, never missing a chance to
refute his father.
 “It was her dying wish,” Sarah wisecracks, inserting herself back into the
mix. The way she says this is so sure and strong, like it’s her own way of
revenge.
In a twisted way, it’s righting another wrong. Camellia asked another
survivor of Silas’s to hold on to the one thing that she knew would change
everything.
That one ounce of single-mindedness does not bypass me, and I know
Sarah sees this too.
Camellia understood that with power comes burden. She offered up her
life to save his. She gave Cole the best gift she could think of. What we
should all have.
Choice.

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Forty-Nine

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 Rory

HOISTING MYSELF UP, I hop into the back of the ambulance where
Madison’s finishing her checkup. I listen as the technician gives her the all
clear. They tell her that other than a bit of soreness and a few bruises along
her wrists and ankles, she’s good to go.
The sun has set over the mountain of trees. The breeze is a nice comfort
to the craziness of today’s events.
My nose pinches but it’s in fondness. I can’t wait to see what Finn’s
reaction to this will be. He’s going to lose it.
Leaning back, I drop my legs out, enjoying the view. And by that, I mean
knowing everyone I cared about is okay. Bruised and with more cuts than
when we’d arrived with, but alright.
The others, like Silas, were rushed to the hospital by another ambulance.
Cole’s rage having no limits. He’d ending up with worse damage than his
son who’d been in a car accident.
I found out earlier that it had been Abram who tackled Lorna to the
ground after she’d gotten a hold of the gun again. Sgt. Daniels had been the
one to knock her out. Using the gun he pistol-whipped her with the handle.
“You know this doesn’t make us friends, right?” Madison notes beside
me while rubbing at her garish-colored wrists.
My mouth curves into the smallest grin. I’m almost certain she’ll never
be willing to give up this strong-assured title. Somehow, in a strange way, I
respect that she knows this about herself. Accepts it for who she is.
I could appreciate it, but it doesn’t mean I have to agree with how she
chooses to use this part of her.
“Why did you show up at the Daniels’ house today?” I ask, eyeing her.
It’s one of the few questions I don’t have an answer to.
Mostly though, I was just curious.
“You know if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to pester Eli about it until he
gives in,” I hassle, swinging my legs. I won’t, but it’s still fun to badger her.
The air she draws through her lungs is somber and not at all what I
expect.
“How ’bout we start with what all this was about instead?” Madison
notes, shifting the conversation back to me. “Want to explain that?”
“Is a mess a good enough answer?” I muse, following along. I don’t push
because somehow this topic seems easier for her to digest than the reason
she’d shown up here to begin with.
“You’re telling me this kind of stuff doesn’t happen to you all the time?”
she derides. Sarcasm drips from her every word, but there was no weight
behind it like there typically would’ve been in the past.
My gut does a little flip at the genuine smirk she gives. Also, a nudge,
and it was playful.
Playful!
 The ends of her mouth fall into a sad smile. “You’re lucky, you know.”
I’m about to ask her what she means, but she answers for me before I can.
“People you care for, care for you back.”
She hugs the blanket tighter around her on a dead sound. I know she’s
talking about me, but I can tell that she wishes she had this one thing too for
herself. Wants it from the one person she’s had eyes for since this
conversation started.
He’s standing beside the person who’s had a similar agenda but for me.
Cole’s gaze is steady. A master at tracking my every move, even if he
never directly looks this way.
Iceman’s injuries are bad enough that Finn’s going to be getting his
roommate back. At least for the night, as a precaution. Those ribs of his
most definitely need to be reexamined.
He won’t leave though, not without me. Him refusing to go until I’m
good as well. Always putting me first.
The exhaustion of the day sets in the more time my muscles can
decompress. The quiet is a nice change from the adrenaline of earlier.
“If I tell you that I came here because I was worried, would that make me
sound stupid?” Madison asks, shifting her weight forward.
She side-eyes me when I don’t respond instantly, and I have to bite back
my grin. It’s a strange, interesting junction to see Madison so
uncomfortable.
One I would pull out my phone and take a picture of if it wouldn’t ruin
this—doubtful to ever happen again—once in a lifetime authentic
conversation we’re having.
“So, the empress of steel does have a heart,” I snark, not being able to
help myself.
 Studiously, her face turns back. She sucks in a large ball of air before
hopping down like our spot’s now made of needles.
“Hey Montgomery,” I holler, jerking my chin when she turns back.
Exactly like I expect her to. Madison, in all her faults, is fearless when it
comes to her pride being involved.
“You’re right. We’ll never be friends.”
“Don’t hold your breath for that handshake,” she quips, and my head
arches on a much-needed laugh.
I swear, I catch a ghost of a similar smile cross her face and then she’s
turning back around.
Exhaling, I let my head fall back up toward the sky.
What a day.

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 Fifty

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 Rory

“SO IS COLE GOING to have to start calling you queen instead of Princess
now?” Finn jokes from the back seat on our way home from the hospital.
“Don’t start,” I warn.
Finn has the audacity to look offended when I glare at him over my
shoulder.
He runs a hand across his chest. “What? It’s not every day I can say I’m
in the hands of royalty ‘oh queen of Hardin,’” he mocks.
“Shut up,” I scold, shoving at his good shoulder.
“Ouch! Watch it, lil sis. We can’t damage the other arm too or my shot at
going pro definitely slims to like half,” he snorts so sure of his abilities.
I roll my eyes, turning back forward. He’s overly confident as usual.
Cole hasn’t said a lot the whole drive but that’s not saying much. He’s
pacified in the comfort of letting Finn and me banter.
No one has to wait long before Finn starts spouting more things off about
how well his surgery went. Even going so far as to nickname his “new arm”
the “bionic arm.”
 He claims the scar and the metal screws will give him an edge. Make him
a legal, badass robot on the basketball court come next season.
College. That’s where we’ll all be after the summer.
I can’t believe it.
A small zing of excitement shoots through me. We’d all gotten in. Cole
was the last, getting his acceptance letter right before we’d gone to pick
Finn up.
Another thing Finn can’t stop raving about. I’m pretty sure he’s already
planned out a year’s worth of parties in his head.
Good luck trying to squeeze those in between practices and games
though. College is a whole new league compared to high school, but I’m
ready.
Unlike when I’d found out my mother died, I’m okay with this change.
Excited for the first time about what the future holds.
I was raised to be a sheep but turned into a hellhound instead.

Iceman’s lips press into the shell of my ear as soon as we get inside. “Hang
back a second,” he rasps. Goose bumps break out across the back of my
neck but deepen when I feel his smile.
He’s in a good mood today.
“We’ll catch up in a sec,” he hollers, and Finn dismisses us with a wave.
He slurs, mentioning something about grabbing a bite of real food, over
subpar cuisine.
 Apparently, the stuff served at hospitals didn’t meet his standards or fill
his expectations.
“What is it?” I ask, a little too breathy.
Spinning. I’m being spun. Our fronts are smashed together before I have
time to react. Our hearts beat, reverberating off the other.
I peer up at him with a smile, scraping my fingernails through the hairs at
the base of his scalp.
“What’s up, Iceman?”
He groans, “I love when you call me that.”
I love him. That’s all.
“You know, I think Finn might’ve been onto something earlier,” he
reasons, twirling a strand of my hair around his thumb. “Maybe it’s time I
update your name.”
“Princess is fine,” I rasp out, too throaty.
Dropping it, his eyes go molten, landing back on me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
My pulse picks back up at the intensity. Then his mouth lifts into that
grin that’s only for me and my insides flutter. This broody dark-haired boy
is too attractive for anyone’s sanity.
“Even trapped, a queen never once needed saving.”
“Same as a monster,” I remind him. “All he had to do to break away from
the kingdom is find the key.”
His jaw snaps, scraping my own. “You’ve always been my key.”
My chest rises and falls. The air sears my lungs, or maybe those are the
words he’s spoken just now.
You’ve always been my key.
 I assumed he’d be upset, at least at first at what his mother had done, but
he hasn’t seemed to care that he’s no longer forced to be involved with
Hardin.
His father, on the other hand, had more than enough reaction for the both
of them, but I never got to gauge most of that. From what I’d heard though,
after he’d found the strength, the doctors had quite the time settling him
back down.
Cole’s watching me again, but it’s doubtful he’d ever stopped. The
bruising along his face deep but not as garish after a few more days of rest.
The cuts, slivers of what they’d been before.
“Stop staring,” he muses at my open gawking.
I try to squirm from his hold, but he doesn’t budge.
“Not yet, Princess, I want to hold on for one more second. Give me this
one thing.”
The flirtatious Cole shifts away and reappears into this sincere one so
rapidly it makes me stall. He needs this—our touch—as much as I needed
to understand what he isn’t telling me. Because there is something, I know
it.
I could sense it, even before he’d stalled us in the foyer.
The dip of his head is slight, but it’s all I need. “I want to show you
something,” he croaks, pulling me closer one last time, before letting go.
Almost like he’s savoring the moment before.
Before what, though, I have no clue. Hasn’t enough changed? What more
could there be?
My frown deepens as he tugs us along past the steps. “Where did you say
you got those flowers you brought Finn to the hospital?”
I didn’t.
 “You said they were magic?”
I had, but where’s he going with this and where are we going?
I’m thankful he’s holding my hand because with his long, purposeful
strides, I doubt I’d be able to keep up otherwise. He’s sure of something.
“They changed colors,” I clarify. That was the magic.
“From pink to blue?”
I nod at his back. Not that he sees or needs to. He knows he’s right.
“Did you know that some flowers react to certain types of metal? The
iron increase can change their color.”
I hadn’t.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask because we’re already in the
conservatory, but he hasn’t stopped yet. Tugging me right along behind
him.
He leads us to a cluster of roses, and other bushels of different types of
flowers but we keep going until he finds what he wants.
Stopping, he drops to his knees, and I’m so caught off guard by the jerky
movement I almost stumble over the top of him.
I can’t decide what’s more overwhelming. The fact that he almost made
me swallow my tooth or that he’s stopped at the same cluster of flowers I’d
picked out for Finn before his surgery.
He couldn’t have known I was going to choose these specific flowers,
because I hadn’t decided I was going to do it until after my conversation
with Sgt. Daniels.
After making sure all my teeth were in their rightful spot, I sink down in
a similar manner beside him. His head is buried inside a thicket of
hydrangea blossoms.
 “Did I ever tell you how I got the fountain to start working again?” he
questions, even if his voice is mumbled by his shuffled movements.
All it does is make me that much more anxious when he pulls out an
aluminum box. It’s not huge, no larger than a shoebox, but it’s rusty.
I angle my head.
“The only reason the fountain wasn’t running is because it was jammed.”
My lungs catch, I never noticed. “At the time, I hadn’t thought much of it,
so I set it to the side.”
My shoes sink farther into the butt of my jeans, listening. I think I have
an inkling of where this is going, but I want clarification to be sure.
It’s too coincidental. Too similar to something that would have fit in one
of those safe boxes back at the bank Madison had let us into.
My fingers itch to touch it, but I refrain. What if I’m wrong again?
“How do we know it’s not just another copy?” I ask serious.
“We don’t,” he replies bluntly. “But my father has no idea that it wasn’t
the real thing at Eli’s house, remember?”
My eyes grow larger than they already are. He’s right.
Silas had been too far away from the group to notice that the will in the
box had only been a copy. A duplicate. Not the real thing.
If he’d seen it, everything would’ve changed. Without an original, he
could’ve easily fought it, like he said he was going to.
I lick my lips. “Are you sure?”
If he’s right, this could change everything. If I don’t try again, Cole could
technically be given back his part of Hardin. The portion that was owed to
him as his birthright.
This is big—nope, bigger than that—a monumental decision.
 As if sensing my hesitancy, he slides it closer to me, and my ribs swell
with the same motion.
“I know my father and my mother. There’s a reason she wanted you to
have it.” Those eyes of his are as piercing as his words. “She gave this to
you,” he reminds me.
“What if I can’t handle it?”
“She gifted this to someone who wasn’t corrupted. Someone good.” His
tone was too soft, whole.
“She never knew me. How could she have been so sure?” I ask,
unconvinced.
“My mom knew both Abram and Lillian,” he says as the muscles in his
cheeks flex. “She didn’t need to know you to understand your spirit was
good.”
I let out an aged breath. This next question is something that’s been
hanging on my heart, as long as it’s been hovering on my lips. I need to
know this more so over want.
“What would’ve happened to it if I never came back? Never knew any of
this. You never would’ve figured out where that money disappeared to.”
Never found his mother’s hidden will.
He lifts a shoulder, but it’s lackluster. “Guess it would’ve remained a
mystery forever.”
“You can still have it. All this. It’s not too late.” I haven’t tried yet, is
what I’m really trying to explain, even as my gaze shifts down to the small
keyhole.
I’m curious, even if I’m trying my best not to appear so.
This could be it.
“Are you sure?” I need to hear him say it.
 Something strange happens to his cheeks but then they smooth out. The
intensity of his scowl would make anyone else feel inferior, but I’m only
dumbfounded.
“I think I’ll find a way to manage.”
The way he says this, it’s like that first breath of life to a newborn. That
first wisp of newfound freedom everlasting.
That’s what this all represents. I understand this now.
Fire rises, licking the walls of my stomach. “I’d been wrong before. The
key hadn’t worked…”
“You’re overthinking again,” he scorns. “Try.” His voice going smooth as
honey.
I curve an unimpressed eyebrow at his comment. The calmness of his
posture is the complete opposite of… every part of me.
With trembling fingers, I unclasp the chain from around my neck. Eager
but reluctant. Interested but timid.
A batch of sunlight washes over the room then, rewarming my already
flushed skin. Sparkling, the walls of my glass kingdom shine and it’s all the
answer I need.
“Open it, Princess,” he encourages, more excited than he should be.
I shove the key in, and the same thing as before happens. Greedily it goes
inside but I don’t turn it. Not yet.
I glance over at him one last time, on an exhale.
This is it.
His eyes are like orbs of wonder. Both of us now watch as my hand
rotates. My breath catches, the same way the lock had right before it
clicked.
It clicked?
 I want to find his stare again, but I can’t lift my head to do it. My focus is
trapped on where the box stays waiting between us.
I never thought I belonged to this world, but like this lid it too has opened
up for me.
Now all that’s left is to reach inside and take what’s mine, and so I do.

OceanofPDF.com
 Epilogue
Three Years Later

THE SUN ONCE AGAIN peeks out, pushing past the wall of clouds rising,
shoving past the curtains.
It shines with the same intensity as it has been for weeks now. The lead-
up to another glorious summer. Final exams and late-night cram sessions
are forgotten about until next year.
Yet, with every new morning, even as the heat rises more, I can’t seem to
break away. Stealing even a few moments for myself as the world once
again resprouts with life.
The comfort from its warmth is a lightened friend from its rival
counterpart, the night.
I hear a light tap at my door. The sound reverberates, echoing in the once
again emptied room but I don’t bother turning around. I already know who
it is.
Normally, Cole doesn’t knock, barging in ruthlessly instead. Somehow
today though, he must’ve sensed I needed the extra time to myself.
Maybe he needs it too…
 As happy as I am that we’ve finished another year, that pang in my chest
never settles. It’s been here since I first arrived years ago. A heaviness that
refuses to leave.
I love it—college, an exciting journey I never expected to fall in love
with—but it hasn’t been the same.
Not without her.
The glow of light bounces off my window but unlike my wonderland,
these windows do not dance in a rainbow of color. The glass from these is
only a portal to see the world and not one where life grows inside of.
I breathe in and release it with the same deepness.
Some nightmares we survive are not fiction, but a reality we must live
through.
I’ve survived plenty.
A pair of cerulean eyes shine with the intensity of silk as he rounds me.
Intense but not colorless they beam. “You ready to go?”
I sigh, sinking into him. Iceman.
His upper lip thins out, and it forces his bottom one to jut out that much
more. Is he concerned or concentrating? Both?
The touch of his fingers on my neck is featherlike, and my throat dips in
a swallowed gasp. His knuckles skim, tracing down my collarbone until
they land on my necklace.
Gripping, his hand wraps around my own. Startled, my mouth parts, I
hadn’t realized I’d been holding it.
His focus stays there, watching as they key rises and falls with my soft
pants.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Princess?” he asks, pulling his focus back
to my face. His mouth droops. “It’s not about the party, is it?”
 I force a smile, but he sees right through it. Those lines of concern on his
forehead become more evident.
It’s not, I tell him silently. I reassure him because I know that’s what he
needs. It’s the end of another year, and it’s hard, the same as it is every time.
She should’ve been here with me. With us. That was the plan.
At my encouragement, his mouth lifts back into that loaded,
overconfident smirk territory. I already know what he’s about to say
because he’s been saying it since we first started college as freshmen.
“You know the offer is still on the table. It’s not too late. The house is big
enough.”
I give him the same answer I’ve been giving him for three years. “I like
my dorm room.”
He grimaces at the space that’s a cigarette box in comparison to his room
back at the house he shares with Eli and Finn.
The emptiness of it now that my boxes are all packed up is not helping to
make the space feel any larger. To be fair though, it’s not much different
than when it’s loaded with my things during the year. The room is small,
but I make it work.
“Come on,” he groans. “You basically live there with us anyway.”
I shoot him a discouraging look right back. I like my room and I like
having the added space all to myself. He knows this. I’ve told him the same
thing many times before.
Iceman doesn’t always approve of my choices, but he’s learned to respect
them. Well, most of the time. No one’s perfect.
When he pouts, and I’m not joking, full on jutting his mouth out, I bark
out a laugh. This smile as genuine as my answer.
“No.”
 “Come on,” he says, waving our now connected hands between us.
“You already know the conditions,” I say, laughing again because he’s
too cute not to when he’s like this. So different from the broody, hostile boy
I’d been reintroduced to eons ago.
I’d made those up after he wouldn’t stop nagging, not that they’ve
stopped him, but it’s helped…some.
His eyes find the dimples in the drop ceiling, mimicking me when I tell
him the same thing I’ve told him thousands of times. “Not until after we
graduate or get married.”
Only today, his eyes do something different, sparkle a little brighter,
shine a little deeper. “Is that a promise?”
I nod, even though he knows it is.
I chose to live alone after they’d bought the house because, in some
twisted way, I needed it to prove to myself I could still do it. That I had it in
me to have my independence and follow my own judgment.
Even more perversely, I told myself that if I couldn’t do this, then there
was no way I could run Hardin one day. I had this warped sense of need to
prove this self-reliance to myself. To trust my judgment.
I’ve held strong this far, and I didn’t plan on changing, no matter how
tempting and persuasive Cole likes to try and make it. Like now, the perfect
example, as his hips rotate as they shift across my lower stomach
provocatively.
I shove him off even though I don’t want to.
“Come on. You’re going to make us late if you keep doing that.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” His pupils darken to the shade of lust.
“Finn’s going to be so mad if we show up after Abram does. It is
supposed to be his surprise birthday party,” I remind him.
 That’s another thing, since the Kellets have no holdings with Hardin any
longer, Silas was forced to step down. Abram and I agreed it was better that
he stay on in my place until we both decided I was ready.
That’s not to say Cole ended up penniless after everything. He still has
his trust fund he got after turning eighteen. That alone has more money than
one person should ever see in a lifetime.
“Think Abram will give me some leverage since I’m dating his
daughter?”
“Does he give you any in the office?” I ask, scolding him.
Turns out, in spite of his mother’s attempts, and Iceman trying numerous
other things—at least over a dozen—nothing worked out quite as well as
when he was at Hardin.
If Camellia were still alive though, I don’t think she would’ve been upset
with his decision. Because it was his decision. One he’d made on his own.
She wanted him to have the option to make his own choices, and he had.
Choosing me, choosing Hardin. Even if technically, I am his boss.
Which he never once misses the opportunity to mention, by the way.
“Are you sure I can’t persuade you?” Cole asks, and I can feel his
excitement pressed into my sternum.
My head is already shaking on a chuckle.
“Fine,” he says even if he’s the polar opposite of it.
Yanking, he grabs at my elbow, spinning me back around. Eyes jumping
as they bounce across my face in concern. My actions had been quick, the
same as the familiar pang of emotions hit again.
“What is it? Talk to me,” he repeats.
I sigh. This old wound is still so fresh. “I just miss her. She should’ve
been here with us.”
 He grabs my chin, lifting it back so that it meets his, focusing me.
“Hey.” His voice turns soft. So different from the callousness of his
touch. “You guys still talk all the time, every day. Yeah?”
Basically, but it’s not the same. We were supposed to be here together.
Hailey was supposed to be here with all of us. The hellhounds.
Running his teeth over his lip, he bites it on an inhale. My frown
deepens, not understanding his reaction.
His expression doesn’t change but there’s something about it—it’s the
shift in his eyes, that makes them appear more thoughtful.
“Look, I know I shouldn’t be telling you this. It was supposed to be a
surprise…”
My chest inflates. Like this party for Abram?
The muscles in his face spread thin. “She wanted it to be a surprise,” he
emphasizes.
He scratches at his temple and my cheeks are already widening, knowing
what I’m hopeful he’s about to say.
“Hailey’s plane flew in earlier this morning.”
A scream rips past my lungs and I’m pretty sure I even get a few jumps
in before a groan pushes out his mouth. He’s still reluctant in his decision to
tell me.
I hardly register that flash of something else there too, something he’s not
saying, because she’s coming. She’s here.
The entire drive home, I’m sitting on the edge of my seat. I’m so giddy I
almost forget that we’re heading back to celebrate Abram’s birthday.
Cole’s grip on my thigh during the hours-long drive, I’m positive the
only thing keeping me from floating into oblivion. I can’t wait to see her.
 His hold is on the small of my back as we move inside the too-familiar
walls of the Casper mansion.
My unconcern for anything else blinding me, as he effortlessly walks us
down the checkered hallway and into my glass kingdom.
Momentarily, my steady thoughts are shifted to the one item I haven’t
seen in years. Not since that day I’d given it back to Abram in his office.
My gaze zeroes in on the familiar red-bound leather. The gold etching of
the girl on the cover drawing me in the same as it had when I was a child.
Picking it up off the fountains edge, my fingers tingle with awareness.
Only this time when I open the book, there aren’t only those too familiar
handwritten words pressed inside the cover.
“A closed chapter does not mean the book is finished,” Cole starts, and I
whip around so quickly I see stars. Or are those sparkles from the reflection
of the diamond ring now in my hand?
The water from the fountain beside me rushes, crashing as hard as my
heart is right now. He’s on one knee.
“We make our own endings,” I finish because my brain can’t seem to
process anything else. Not even the way his smile dips or that it’s as
overwhelming as it is authentic.
He’s on one knee, and I have a ring? What the fuck.
“Marry me,” he blurts out suddenly.
No hesitation, no uncertainty. All him.
“And if I don’t?” I challenge, tears already threatening to fall at the
corners.
His lips curve higher at my defiance like he’d be disappointed with
anything less than me defying him.
 “Aurora Casper, you are one dilemma—I may never understand—but
would happily like to spend the rest of my life trying to figure out anyway.
Say yes, Princess.”
The beautiful oval-cut diamond gleams, sparkling as bright as the walls
of the room we’re in.
“Yes,” I gush. The tears are full force now as I let them free-fall.
Swooping, his smile turns megawatt. Kissing me through my tearstained
laughter as soon as he straightens back to his full height.
Shouts and hollers chant all around us and I choke back my laughter. I
hadn’t realized in the whirlwind of it all that we had an audience.
The room is now filled with every person I care about. Finn, Eli, Abram,
and even Hailey. She’s in the farthest possible spot away from Finn but I
hardly notice because they’re all too busy rushing us with their varied
waves of excitement.
“You’re mine,” Iceman whispers before they can reach us.
“Forever,” I echo back.

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 The Story Continues...

Rory and Cole's story may be finished but another Hellhounds story is just
beginning. Find out what happens next in Finn and Hailey's story:

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 Revived Noble

Can't wait? Click to grab your copy today.

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 Afterward

THANK YOU FOR READING the third book in the Hardin Hellhounds
series. I hope you enjoyed reading it. If you have a moment please review
Resilient Queen online. Tell other readers why you enjoy reading here.
Thank you again, readers, and I hope we visit soon between the pages of
another whirlwind romance.

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 About Author

AMBER VANT IS AN author who specializes in all things romance. Most

notably, she's known for her work in Contemporary Romance and New
Adult novels. She lives in Kansas City, Missouri with her husband and
rambunctious cat. Both constantly keep her laughing with their humored
temperaments and spirited personalities. When she's not busy writing down
the characters in her head, you can probably find her jet-setting around the
world. Seeing somewhere new one plane ride at a time.

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