“Holy balls, it’s cold up here,” I mutter, my breath puffing from my lips in a cloud of smoke.
“Funny you think that, because in just a second, you’re going to remember this moment and the warmth.” Zay smiles at me coldly then unnecessarily reaches around me to shut the door.
I resist asking questions, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s got me worried. And he does have me concerned. What he said …
My gaze drifts to the water. Water which I’m sure is freezing, considering the ice floating around in it.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, Zay grins. “I think you might be putting two and two together. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought.” He grabs the sleeve of my jacket and tows me to the front of the car where Jax and Hunter are waiting.
Hunter appears fidgety, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt while Jax takes out his phone and glances at the screen.
“We have about an hour before we need to be at the house,” Jax says. “So let’s make this quick.” He stuffs his phone away then turns to me, raking his fingers through his hair. “The thing is, Raven, we have a reputation to uphold. People are scared of us, and for good reasons. And we need them to stay that way. But for that to happen, we have to keep up that fear factor, which means making sure everyone knows their place. You, however, seem to have a hard time with that. And while you may be one person, if your defiant attitude becomes a fad, we’re going to have a problem on our hands.”
“It’s not going to become a fad.” I wrap my arms around myself as the wind picks up, blowing strands of hair into my eyes. “I’m not the kind of girl who sets fads. I’m the kind of girl that people try not to be like.”
Jax’s gaze flicks up and down my body. “I really doubt that.”
“I don’t know why you would. You know I’m a murderer. Just like almost everyone back in my hometown did.” I shift my weight. “No one wants to be like a murderer.” Well, except for maybe Zay, but I decide to keep my snarky thought to myself for now since I'm fairly confident they’re about to force me into that freezing cold river.
I need to talk my way out of this. Need to be nice.
Remember how to be nice, Raven?
The problem is that it’s been a really long damn time since I’ve had a reason to be nice.
But I have to try.
“I can try to be better,” I force the words out of my mouth. “If you’ll just let me go.”
Jax briefly studies me before gazing out at the water. I think he might be considering my offer until I spot the apologetic look on Hunter’s face.
“We can’t just let you off without punishing you first,” Jax says, redirecting his attention to me. “It’s not really how we work, and we can’t start working that way. Not unless we want to lose our power. And with how things are at …” He trails off as Hunter gives him a wide-eyed, pressing look.
I wonder where he was going with that statement. How things are where?
“Anyway,” Jax continues on. “We need our power. And while I want to believe you’ll change and can be trainable, you’re really stubborn, which leaves us with only one option.”
I hold my breath as I wait for him to tell me what I think I already know.
“So, here’s what you’re going to do.” He turns toward the river and points toward a rusty beam that extends out from the bridge and over the water. “You’re going to climb up there and jump into the river.” His gaze slices to me, his expression turning cold. “And the next time you so much as even think about smarting off to any of us, you remember what it was like to feel your blood turn to ice and the chill of the water seep into your bones.” He steps toward me, his boots scuffing against the snowy dirt. “Remember what it was like not to be able to breathe for a second, to have the cold water rip away your ability. Remember what it was like to sink to the bottom and, for a split moment, worry that you won’t ever make it to the surface again.” He traces his finger along my cheekbone. “Remember that helpless feeling we gave you. Remember we’re in control of everything in Honeyton and that we’ll do anything to keep that control.” He strokes my cheek like I’m a pet.
Okay, maybe I was wrong when I said Zay might be the serial killer. Jax might be even scarier in a very serial killer-ish sort of way.
“And what if I won’t jump?” I ask, relieved I’ve still managed to hold on to the ability to sound calm.
“Oh, you will,” he assures me, withdrawing his fingers from my cheek. “Either you can do it willingly or we can help you out.”
I swallow hard, my gaze drifting to the river again. Not only do the rapids look freezing, but I’m not sure how deep the water is, which poses a huge problem, seeing as how I can’t swim. Not that my parents didn’t try to teach me. They did a couple of times, but they kind of gave up when they realized I feared water and would freak the hell out every time they put me in a pool.
Maybe if I tell them, they won’t make me do this.
I nearly laugh at the stupidity of my own thoughts, but decide I have to at least try.
“I can’t swim.” I fidget with the leather bands on my wrists, feeling very exposed at the moment.
Zay snorts a laugh. “Nice try, but we’ve heard better lies from others trying to get out of this.”
My gaze skims the three of them, my heart rate quickening. “You guys do this to people a lot?”
Zay gives a lazy shrug. “How do you think we got everyone to fear us?”
As the urge to chatter arises, I press my lips together. Jesus, I think I’m going to have to jump. If I do, are they going to save me when they realize I can’t swim?
Probably not, which means …
Am I about to die?
I could try to run, but we’re out in the middle of nowhere, with three of them and one of me …
My gaze travels to the road behind me. How fast can I run?
As if sensing my thoughts, Zay sidesteps in front of me and folds his arms. “Don’t even think about running. You won’t make it very far, and you’ll be punished even more if you do.”
“Punished more than potentially dying? Yeah, I doubt that,” I mutter, racking my brain for another way around this.
Zay gives me a calculating assessment. “There is one other option if you’re too chicken shit to jump.”
Aw, yes, option one, the option Jax believed I was too much of a fighter for.
“What is it?” I ask warily.
Zay rubs his lips together then glances at Jax.
“We decided we should stick with option two,” Jax reminds him, resting his arm on top of the hood.
“I know.” Zay flits a glance in my direction then looks back at Jax. “But if she doesn’t want to jump, we might as well give her the option.”
Jax’s brow meticulously arches. “And giving her this option has nothing to do with you wanting to give her the option?”
“No,” Zay insists in an irritated tone. “She’s just interesting enough that I’m curious how it’ll go if we give her the other option.”
Jax rubs his jawline as snow begins fluttering from the dark clouds. “If you want to give it to her, then go ahead. I don’t think it’s going to turn out how you want it to, though.” He steps back and gestures at Zay to get a move on.
Hunter grins at me, snowflakes covering the top of his head. “I really hope, little raven, that you think carefully about your options here and make the smarter choice because, personally, I don’t want to see that pretty face of yours frozen in pain if you dive into that water.”
I glare at him, but he keeps on grinning.
Gritting my teeth, I twist back to face Zay. “What’s the other option?”
He gradually reclines against the front of the car and drags out the silence, probably to show me that he’s the one in charge here. “Instead of jumping off the beam, we’ll let you spend the rest of the year being our servant.”
“Your servant?” I repeat, unsure if I heard him clearly because, seriously, he wants me to be his servant?
No fucking way.
“Yes, servant. Which, in case you’re too stupid to understand what that word means”—he smirks at me when I glare at him—“it means you’ll spend the rest of the school year doing whatever we want you to do.”
I frown. “That sounds really unappealing.”
He shrugs. “Then I guess it’s the water for you.”
I hug my arms around myself and chew on my bottom lip. Maybe I could do that—be their servant. Swallow down my pride for a bit. But I guess it really depends on what that entails.
“Like, what sort of stuff would you want me to do? Clean your house? Make you food? Because you should know I’m a terrible cook.”
“I’m not talking about cooking or cleaning our house,” he says with a dark grin. “Well, unless I’m in the mood to see a little maid outfit on you, which doesn’t sound like a bad idea now that I think about it.”
Wait … Does he want me to be, like, his naughty maid or something?
As he assesses me closely, he tilts his head to the side. “You know, just by looking at you, and after talking to you for the last hour and reading through your files, I wouldn’t have guessed you’re naïve. But I don’t know … That confused look on your face has me wondering.”
“I’m not confused,” I lie, because I kind of am.
He casts a quick glance at Jax and Hunter then slides his gaze back to me, dragging it up and down my body. Then he crosses his arms. “Are you a virgin?” he asks bluntly. “Because, if you are, I’m not sure option one’ll work.”
It clicks then that I was correct about what he wants.
My stomach churns, my fingernails delving into the fresh wounds covering my palms. “You want me to be your whore? No effing way.”
He angles his head to the side as he studies me with mild amusement. “You wouldn’t be a whore if you didn’t want to do it.”