Maybe that’s the choice Axel sees. That if I stop caring about my sisters, I’d be free.
Well, that’s not ever going to happen.
“I’m not going to let you completely off the hook, though,” Axel continues, spinning a ring on his finger. “I want you to tell me where this one bag you’re aware of is located. And you’re to find the other five your father stole from me.”
“But, how am I supposed—”
“That’s not my problem,” he cuts me off, rolling down his sleeves. “You’re to find the bags and bring them to me. You have exactly one month from today, and if you haven’t followed through with your end of the bargain, there will be repercussions. Understand?”
Again, all I can do is nod.
“Good. While I like your feistiness, I’m glad you can be agreeable when you need to.” He picks up his jacket and slips it back on. “Amelia, Austin, and Liam will be keeping an eye on you over the month to make sure you don’t flee. If you try, they will notify me, and you won’t get very far.” He starts for the door. “As I’m sure you’re realizing, the town of Honeyton is very loyal to me.”
In my personal opinion, they seem more loyal to August, but I’m not about to say that aloud.
I hold my breath, waiting for him to leave before I free it, but he pauses at the door and turns back toward me.
“Good luck, Hadley Harlyton. I really do hope you can succeed in this,” he says to me with a strange look on his face. A look that almost resembles compassion, but I’m probably misinterpreting it.
With one final strange look from Axel, he whirls around and strides out the door. And just as swiftly as all the ginormous men and woman blew into the house, they gust out, whisking away the tension with them.
“Holy fucking shit,” I breathe out, crouching down to the floor, my legs too shaky to hold me up anymore.
“Just take a deep breath,” Amelia instructs, tracing her hand up and down my back. “It’ll seem less bad in just a few minutes.”
Vomit burns the back of my throat, but I swallow it down as I stumble back to my feet.
“What the hell did you tell your father?” I demand.
“When?” she asks with an innocent smile.
“Don’t play stupid with me.” I inch toward her, loathing my tremulous voice. But the entire situation has me feeling like I’m walking on a frayed tightrope a hundred feet off the ground. The wind is blowing at me from the side and rain tears from the sky, everything around me working to push me down. “What did you tell him that made him decide to let me off the hook?”
“Are you really off the hook, though?” she implies with a lift of her brows.
I cross my arms and stare her down. “I don’t know. You tell me since you seem to know some sort of secret words that can convince your psychopath of a father to let me off easily.”
“You’ve got it all wrong,” she insists with a smile. “My father isn’t a psychopath.”
“Says the pot to the kettle.” I gesture at the kitchen where Austin is sprawled across the marble floor. “And how can you even say that when your brother might be lying over there, dying, because of your father.”
“My father didn’t do that. Nat did,” she replies simply. “And Austin isn’t dying.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” How can she be so cold and uncaring? Then again, Axel is her father.
Then again, my dad is my dad, so …
“Austin isn’t dying,” she repeats again, not even so much as glancing in his direction. “I know that for a fact.”
I wipe my damp palms on the side of my pants. “You haven’t even checked on him yet.”
“I don’t have to.” When I glare at her, she gives a blasé shrug. “It’s a twin thing.”
I’m starting to really believe crazy runs in their family.
“Besides,” Amelia says, tracing her finger along the string of pearls resting against her neckline, “why would you even care if he was dying? You don’t like him.”
“It still doesn’t mean I want to see him die.”
“Why?”
“It’s called humanity, you freak.” I shake my head, knowing I’m on the verge of losing it. I need to get out of here and away from everything related to Axel Maeiriellie. “Can one of you two crazies give me a ride home? Preferably the conscious one. But at this point, I’ll take just about anything.”
“I’m not unconscious,” Austin says through a shaky moan. Then he shifts, sitting up, his face puffy and bloody, and his nose looks a little crooked. He wipes the blood from his nose with his arm, then winces. “I can drive you home if you want.”
“Yeah, no thanks.” I decide that between the two of them, Amelia is probably the better option.
Plus, Austin’s eyes are so swollen I doubt he can even see.
“Really, I don’t mind.” He reaches up, grasps the counter, and drags himself up to standing.
“No thanks,” I repeat, eyeing him over, the cuts, the blood. Talk about ruthless. “You look like shit.”
“Gee, thanks,” he says dryly. “Honestly, though, I don’t feel a thing.”
“I think that might be the vodka talking,” I say as he unravels some paper towels.
He dabs the paper towels against his cheek then winces. “I barely drank a quarter of the bottle.”
“That’d be enough to make me pass out.” I shrug when he gapes at me. “It’s called building up a tolerance, something I haven’t and probably never will do.”
“Good for you.” He grabs the vodka and takes a long swallow straight from the bottle. Then wipes his lips clean. “There. Good as new.” He flashes me a toothy, albeit very bloody, grin.
I just shake my head.
Amelia chuckles then collects her purse off the counter. “Come on; I’ll take you home. Austin, you can ride with us.” She rummages around in her purse, digging out a set of keys, which she tosses to Liam. “Liam, be a doll and follow me in my car. I don’t want to have to drive back here to get it.”
Liam grunts in response, but I assume that means yes because he walks out the door.
Amelia signals for me to go ahead then has Austin put his arm around her shoulders so she can help him out to his Porsche. After the three of us have piled in, with Austin curled up on the tiny back seat—honestly, I’m not even sure why he has to come with us—she starts up the engine and moves to shift it into drive, but then she pauses.
“Actually, Hadley, do you mind driving back?” She unfastens her seatbelt. “I’ve got a few emails that I need to send out.”
“Can you just wait until you’re home?” I ask with zero desire to drive the Porsche.
She shakes her head. “They need to be done ASAP.”
I cast a glance at Austin. “Can’t he drive then?”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” She pushes the door open, swings her legs out, and then hops out. Then she lowers her head back into the cab to look at me. “I know you secretly want to race it home, so here’s your chance.” Then she steps back and bumps the door shut with her hip.
How does she know I like to race? I feel as though I should be surprised, but at this point, I’m not.
I get out of the car, wind around the back, and climb into the driver’s seat while Amelia slides in the passenger side.
She slips the visor down and reapplies her makeup while I adjust the seat and put on my seatbelt.
“Oh, and Hadley, there’s a hundred bucks in it for you if you can get us to your house in less than ten minutes.” She wipes red lipstick from the corners of her mouth, giving me a sidelong glance.
I start to shake my head, not wanting anything from her, but then I realize I really need the hundred bucks at this point, since my current job title is being two mobsters’ little bitch with zero pay.
I wrap my hand around the shifter. “What if I can get us there in five?”
Her eyes dance with delight. “Fifty more bucks?
“How about a hundred,” I say. “So, two hundred total.”
“Make it three.”
“Why did you just raise it?”
“Why not?” She flips the visor back up then sinks back into the seat, crosses her arms, and waits.
There’s something oddly unsettling about this situation yet weirdly familiar.
“Have we …? Have we ever met before?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No.”
I chew on my lip, feeling as though maybe I’m going insane. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Then she reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re way too unforgettable to forget.”
I can’t tell if she’s hitting on me, screwing with my mind, or trying to distract me from asking more questions.
I could keep asking questions, keep playing this weird, warped, twin game they’ve got going on, but I’m fucking exhausted and want to get back home so I can talk to Blaise. Because, boy, oh boy, do I have a lot of questions for him, starting with why he appeared in some random memory of mine from a long time ago.
Hadley
It’s late enough that the streets are fairly vacant, the sky is dusted with stars, and the moon is full. The quietness of the town makes it easy to get to my house in just under five minutes, especially when not a single police car is in sight.
When I pull into the driveway of what I hope is still my place of residency, all the lights are off. Of course they are. Why would they be on when no one’s home? Part of me—and maybe a naïve part—secretly hoped when I pulled up, some miracle would’ve happened while I was gone, and my sisters came home. But no, the house is as quiet as it was when I left this morning.
Next door, the lights are on and the Porterson brothers are hanging out outside, music blasting from the stereo. Rhyland is messing around with something underneath the hood of his GTO while Blaise and Jaxon are lounging around in rusty lawn chairs, drinking beers and talking about something. Alex is nowhere to be seen, but I’m not that surprised.
The scene makes my heart ache in a way I never thought possible.
I want my sisters back.
The instant I pull up, skidding into the driveway, the engine growling as I downshift and slam on the brakes, Blaise springs to his feet and starts to stride over to my house. But he slows to a stop, a crease crinkling between his brows as he takes in the Porsche.
When Rhyland glances over, a WTF expression crosses his face. He tosses the rag he’s holding onto the ground and storms up beside Blaise. Jaxon remains seated, but slants forward with his gaze on the car.
“Oh good, they’re outside.” Amelia grins at the Portersons as she reaches for the door handle. “This’ll make things so much easier.”
I shove the car into park. “Make what easier?”
She pushes open the door. “Oh, having a little chat with Blaise about our deal.”
“What deal?” I ask, but she’s already jumping out of the car.
Sighing, I shut off the engine and glance back at Austin. He’s lying in the backseat with his arm draped over his forehead and his eyes are closed. He hasn’t made a single noise during the entire drive except for a moan when I sped around a sharp corner without slowing down, which resulted in him getting thrown from the seat.
“Are you alive back there?” I ask as I unclip my seatbelt.
He cracks an eye open. “If I wasn’t, would you kiss me and see if you could bring me back?”
“No, but I’d give you a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart,” I say, making a stabbing gesture. “Pulp Fiction style.”
His other eye opens and I think he smiles, but it’s hard to tell with how puffy his face looks. “I knew you liked me.”
I roll my eyes, then pause. “Why did you let him do it?”
A pucker forms between his brows. “Do what?”
“Let that woman beat you up? You didn’t even try to fight back.”
“And you would’ve?” he challenges.
I drag my teeth along my bottom lip. “There was this one time back in middle school where this high school age girl tried to kick my ass. Granted, I probably deserved it—I was a real brat back then.”
He sinks his teeth into his lip, then flinches. “Just back then?”
“Yes, I’m an angel now,” I say with a straight face, causing him to chuckle. “But anyway, she tried to kick my ass. And everyone kept telling me to just curl up and take it—the girl was freakin’ huge and I was all chicken legs and arms. But I wouldn’t listen—wasn’t very good at that either. And I ended up throwing punches and kicking and pulling her hair. And do you want to know what happened?”
He rolls his eyes. “Let me guess. You kicked her ass.”
“Oh no. I got my ass kicked. Damn bitch even broke my arm.”
He stares at me, utterly confounded. “How is that story supposed to help me?”
“Because if the thirteen-year-old me can try to defend herself against a girl who probably has a really good chance at becoming a professional boxer, then you’re bulky, muscly,” he starts to smile until I add, “And very hairy-chested self can at least try to defend yourself against your dad and his little minions.”
“They’re not really little, though,” he reminds me. “And my dad… Fighting back isn’t really something I was taught to do.”
I gently pat his arm, making sure not to touch an injured area. “All my dad ever tried to teach me was how to lie, cheat, steal, and get wasted and look how fantastic I turned out.” I flash him a cheeky grin then shove the car door open. “Take care of yourself, dude.”
“I will,” he assures me. “But if my ass gets kicked, you get to come play nurse for me.”
And that ends my little trying-to-be nice moment.
I snatch up my bag from the backseat, hop out of the car, and hike toward the fence that divides the Porterson’s property with mine.
“I don’t really give a shit what’s going on,” Blaise is saying to Amelia, but trails off, doing a double take when he notices me walking toward him. “You’re okay?”
“Of course.” I wave it off, but inside I feel like I’m slowing withering from the stress and worry. “Always am.”
He shifts away from Amelia and walks toward me, his gaze sweeping up and down my body. My gaze does the same to him, taking in this lean body, his nearly perfect face, his gorgeous eyes.
Why were you in my memories?
Do you remember why?
Have you been lying all this time?
“Did he hurt you?” Blaise asks as he nears me.
I stop at the fence. “Austin?” I dismiss his question with a wave of my hand. “Nah, that boy is a sweet little kitten at heart.”
Blaise gives me a tolerant look. “I doubt that, but I meant Axel.”
“Oh.” My everything-is-fine attitude slightly falters. “No, he didn’t hurt me.” At least physically. Mentally, I feel all achy and bruised from the mental mind game Axel and I played.
“Are you sure?” He scans me over again.
“Blaise, I’m fine.” I hoist myself over the fence, place my hand on his shoulder, and look him straight in the eye. “He didn’t even touch me.”
He presses his lips together forcefully, then sweeps a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Are you sure?”
When I nod, he visibly relaxes. That is until Amelia struts up to us, swaying her hips.
“See you on Saturday, gorgeous,” she purrs, then pushes up on her toes and drags her teeth along his earlobe.
Blaise jolts, then sidesteps, swatting at her like a bug. Me, I’m not sure what to make of it, but it bothers me. And Rhyland more than notices, giving me a knowing look.
I roll my eyes. I’m so not in the mood for this, buddy.
Smirking, Amelia spins toward me and sticks her hand down her shirt. “This is for you, beautiful.” She pulls out some cash from her bra and hands it to me.
I take the bills from her, holding them at the edges. “Gee, thanks.”
“You earned them.” She smashes her lips against my cheek
then skips off.
I seal my lips together and remain that way until Amelia has gotten in the car and drove off.
“Okay,” I shatter the silence. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?” I reel toward Blaise. “And why did you make a deal with that crazy chick?”
“You made a deal with Amelia?” Rhyland practically shouts, stalking toward Blaise. “Are you fucking insane?”
“I didn’t have a choice.” Blaise spins toward him and gets in his face. Standing side-by side I realize the two of them are about the same height. “It was either that or…”
“Or what?” Rhyland snaps, clenching his fists. “What could possibly be so bad that you had to make a deal with that raving lunatic and bring her back into our lives?”
“I think it might be my fault,” I chime in, not wanting to cause friction between them. “So if you’re gonna yell at anyone, yell at me.”
Rhyland glances at me. “How the hell is it your fault?” He flings a hand in the direction Amelia drove off in. “And how the hell did you even end up with them?” His hand falls to his side. “And why is Amelia giving you tit cash and kissing you.”
“First off, she just kissed my cheek,” I say. “And second of all, what the hell is tit cash?”
“Cash chicks pull out from under their tits. You know, the cash they hide in their bras.” He nods at my chest.
“Hey, I don’t have any cash in there,” I reply defensively. “My tits aren’t even big enough to hide cash underneath them.”
Blaise’s gaze briefly flicks to my chest. “I’m sure you could hide cash in there if you wanted to… Your tits are fine… More than fine…” He massages the back of his neck, only tearing his gaze off my chest when I cross my arms.
Rhyland gives him a really look. “Seriously, bro, you’ve got to work on your game.”
“You really do,” I agree. “And besides, you can’t say my tits are more than fine if you haven’t even seen them.” When both Blaise and Rhyland look at me expectedly, I shout, “I’m not going to show you my tits!”
“Bummer,” Rhyland mumbles and Blaise smacks him in the gut, hard enough that Rhyland wheezes. “Ow,” Rhyland cries out. “What the fuck was that for?”