What would scare him, though? He’s the one who’s scary …
Fabric touches my back and more warmth spills across me.
Maybe he isn’t going to hurt me …
My eyelids lower as I breathe the feeling in, wanting to go to sleep.
“Just keep ahold of her until we get to the house,” Jax says. “Then we’ll figure out how to handle this.”
“I was planning on it,” Zay’s heartbeat echoes in my ear. It sounds like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, so fast, so panicky. “But she’s really fucking cold.”
“She’ll be fine,” Jax assures him. “We just need to get her to the house.”
They grow quiet after that, and I start to let sleepiness grab ahold of me.
“She jumped,” Zay suddenly mumbles, skimming his fingers up and down my spine. “I can’t believe she did it … I didn’t think she would … If I had …”
“I know,” Jax says. “I didn’t think she would either. No one ever has. Well, except for us.”
“But, even we didn’t do it during the brink of winter,” Hunter points out. “She made us look like pussies.”
“Yeah, I guess she did.” I can’t tell which one of them says this, their voices starting to blur together as exhaustion cocoons me.
“You know what this means, right?” one of them says.
Another skip of silence and then …
“Yeah, The Raven Three have just become The Raven Four.”
Chapter Nine
Warm blood covers my hands as I stare down at my parents. Blood is all over them, covering their clothes, their hair.
Why is there so much blood? And why is it all over my hands?
“Mom,” I whisper as I collapse to my knees.
I can’t remember how I got here. Can’t remember where the blood came from. All I can remember is the screaming. So much screaming.
“Raven! No!” my mom shouts a plea. “Please don’t do this, sweetie. You don’t want to do this. Just go. Run!”
But I can’t go. Not until I get to her.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m sorry I can’t forget.”
She screams—
My eyelids flutter open as I leave the hazy memory and return to … well, I’m not really sure where I am. From what I can tell, I’m in a large bed with lots of pillows and blankets around me.
Blinking, I peer around, my confusion deepening. The bedroom, if that's even what it is, looks almost as big as my house. It has a gothic ambiance with black walls, matching trimming, and a giant fireplace with a fire currently crackling in it. The ceiling is domed and painted a midnight blue with a thorny chandelier dangling from it. And the bed I’m in has four massive, ebony posts and is enclosed by black curtains.
“Is this Hell?” I mutter as I slowly sit up.
Everything is so dark, like I imagine Hell would be. But if I am in Hell, then that means I’m dead.
I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat against my hand.
So I’m alive. I’m also wearing someone else’s shirt, and my body feels like it was run over by truck. Or like it slammed into a freezing cold river …
As memories of what happened gradually surface, I throw the blankets off me. Then I frown. My legs aren’t covered up by anything.
“Crap,” I breathe out, recalling how Hunter held me down while Zay tugged down my shorts. But then he had hugged me against his chest, which was confusing. After that, things become hazy and that sends a trickle of fear through me. The last time I blacked out …
Blood on my hands.
Murderer.
Scooting to the edge of the bed, I lower my feet to the floor, wanting to get up and get the hell out of here … wherever here is.
When I stand up, my legs wobble, but I put one leg in front of the other and gradually stumble over to the dresser. Then I open the drawers, hoping to find some pants. But all that’s inside are knives and a bunch of other weapons.
I need to get out of here.
Abandoning my plan to get some pants, I shuffle toward the door, where I pause for a second, listening for any sounds coming from the other side. When only silence graces my ears, I twist the knob, open the door, and step out …
Into the longest and widest hallway I’ve ever seen.
I glance left then right, both directions seeming endless. No windows are around either, so the only light is flowing from antique lanterns hanging up on the walls.
Great. How in the hell am I supposed to find my way out of here?
“Come on, Raven; think of a way to get out of this.” I pinch the brim of my nose as my head pounds.
I really need a painkiller.
What I need is a map of this house. Or my phone. But Jax threw that out the window, something my aunt is going to yell at me for. That is, if I ever get out of here.
No, I’m going to. I’ve made it through jumping off a bridge. Getting out of a house should be a piece of cake.
Cake. God, I’m hungry.
When my stomach grumbles, I take a deep breath then start down the right side of the hallway. Every one of my muscles screams in protest, but I force myself to keep going, to find my way out of here …
“Shit,” I mutter as I reach the end of the hallway that opens up into a very spacious room filled with leather couches, a pool table, a fireplace, and the biggest flat screen TV I’ve ever seen.
I glance around for another exit but can’t find one, so I start to turn around to head back in the direction I came from. Then I freeze when I hear voices floating from somewhere.
“Dude, I’m really getting tired of this crap.”
I tense at the sight of Hunter, Jax, and Zay wandering down the hallway toward me. Hunter is looking at Jax, who’s staring at his phone, and Zay is glancing over his shoulder in the opposite direction, so I see them before they see me.
As images of what happened earlier flash through my mind, I duck to the side before they can spot me. Then I frantically look around, searching for some sort of hidden way out. I spot a door in the far back corner, tucked away near a bookshelf. I’m unsure what’s on the other side but decide it’s got to be better than dealing with these a-holes again. I hurry over to it and duck inside.
Relief washes over me. It’s just a closet.
Quickly closing the door, I sink to the floor and rest back against the wall, figuring I’ll wait it out until they leave. Then I’ll make my escape.
“We only have to deal with it for a little bit longer.” Jax sounds close enough that I assume they’ve entered the room.
“I know, but …” Hunter sighs. “I just want to be on our own finally, you know?”
“I know. And I do, too,” Jax agrees. “But in order for us to get our freedom, we have to finish out our agreement with my father.”
“I know, I know,” Hunter mumbles. “Your dad really sucks.”
“Yeah, he does. But he’s also helped us out a lot,” Jax reminds him. “And when this is all over, we’re going to come out on top.”
“If we survive that long,” Hunter continues to gripe.
“We will,” Jax says with certainty.
A weighted sigh then Hunter says, “You’re being really quiet, Zay. And you seemed distracted earlier … Where’s your head at, man?”
“I’m not distracted,” Zay insists. “You just haven’t stopped talking for the last hour. Or, well, stopped bitching.”
“Dude, I don’t bitch.” Amusement glitters in Hunter’s tone. “I vent.”
“Bitchy vent,” Zay throws back at him.
Hunter chuckles. “All right, maybe I do bitch sometimes.”
Silence settles, and I begin to wonder if they left. But then Jax says, “Someone should go check on our caged raven and make sure she hasn’t woken up yet.”
The muscles in my jaw tick. Caged raven? Like I’m their pet?
“I’ll do it,” Hunter eagerly volunteers.
“Yeah, I’m thinking with how eager you just sounded that Zay better do it,” Jax tells him.
“What the heck, Jax?” Hunter sounds sulky. “Why’re you so worried about me being around her?”
“At first, I wasn’t. You do what you do and we’ve always been fine with that,” Jax replies over the clanking of what sounds like pool balls being racked. “But if she’s going to be one of us, we’re going to have to set some rules, especially for you, before I can allow you to get close to her or else things could get complicated fast.”
“Allow me to get close to her?” Hunter scoffs. “Newsflash, Jax: you may act like our babysitter, but you’re not the boss of us. If I want to get close to our little raven, then I will. And I’m sure Zay agrees with me.”
Our raven?
Oh, hell no.
“I think I agree with Jax on this one,” Zay says. “If she’s gonna be a part of our group, it might be good to set some rules with her.”
“Seriously?” Hunter questions in bewilderment. “You want to set rules?”
“With this, I think it might be a good idea,” Jax says with indifference. “She’s … Well, she seems wild and—”
“Interesting. Gorgeous as hell,” Hunter offers.
“Yeah … maybe.” Zay pauses. “I think she’s got some deep issues, which could lead to an entire set of other problems … Did you see those scars on her side?”
“Yeah,” Hunter says softly. “Who do you think did that to her?”
I hug my knees against my chest, breathing in and out through my nose. I forgot they saw my scars, saw the third worst moment of my life carved on my flesh.
“I don’t know,” Zay replies. “Maybe she put them on herself.”
“I kind of doubt it,” Hunter disagrees. “Do you know how painful that’d be …? How much pain you’d have to be in to do that?”