Page 16 of Brutal Reign (Shadowed Heirs #5)

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“ Y ou sure this is the right aisle?” Seb grumbles as he sweeps his gaze back and forth uncomfortably, looking completely out of place amongst all the girly shit on the shelves surrounding us.

“Think so,” I murmur, my eyes scanning the rows of merchandise. We came into town to grab rolling papers, but now we’re on the hunt for tweezers, per Beau’s request. I swear he primps more than any other dude I know. It seems like a ton of work, but I suppose it’s all part of his schtick as the resident pretty-boy jock. And I’ve gotta admit, it seems to be effective with the ladies.

“Here,” I say when I finally spot what we’re looking for, reaching down to grab one of the packages containing a pair of tweezers.

Seb turns on a heel, grumbling, “Alright, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

I chuckle to myself as he takes off down the aisle, like he can’t get out of here fast enough. The makeup section of the pharmacy is definitely not his scene.

Just as he reaches the end of the aisle, he suddenly stops short as someone turns the corner, running right into him. And not just any someone…

Well shit, here we go.

It seems that no matter where we are lately, our past keeps finding us. We’ve successfully avoided any interaction with River this week during training, but go figure that the one time we leave the complex to run an errand, she just so happens to pop up.

Fate’s playing a cruel game here.

River’s hazel eyes widen as she stumbles back in surprise, and Seb reflexively grabs onto her biceps, steadying her so she doesn’t trip over her own damn feet. I make my way closer as River finds her balance, blinking up at Seb, but it’s like he’s frozen, his brain short-circuiting in response to her proximity.

Riv suddenly realizes he’s still holding onto her, her gaze flickering down to the point of contact before she brushes his hands away angrily and retreats a step. “Are you following me now or something?” she snaps, those kissable-as-fuck lips twisting in a scowl.

Damnit, stop thinking about kissing her.

Seb finally snaps out of whatever daze he was in as I come up alongside him and bump my shoulder against his. He glances over at me, then back to River, his jaw clenching. “We were here first,” he scoffs, immediately back on his cocky shit. “If anyone’s the stalker here, it’s you, Jacobsen.”

River folds her arms over her chest, arching a dubious brow. “Then why are you two lurking in the makeup aisle, Walker?” she questions, her suspicious glaze sliding over to collide with mine.

I lift the package of tweezers up. “Beau asked for these.”

She opens her mouth to respond at the same time her eyes land on the tweezers in my grasp, promptly snapping it shut. She can’t really argue with that– she knows how Beau primps, so I guess she’s now at a loss for a snarky comeback. Imagine that.

“Why are you in the makeup aisle?” Seb growls, narrowing his eyes on her. “You don’t wear it.”

River’s eyes ping back to him, her chin lifting in defiance. “Don’t act like you know what I do,” she huffs. “And you know what? It’s your fault I’m even here. Gotta replace my chapstick after your girlfriend put her filthy mouth on mine.”

“I have a girlfriend?” he snorts, brows shooting up as he slides me a side-eyed glance. “Well shit, that’s news to me.”

“Girlfriend, fuck buddy, whatever,” River grumbles, averting her gaze as she waves a hand like she doesn’t care.

She does , though. I can tell.

Seb squints at her in confusion. “Who?”

“Chandler Stetson.”

I snort a laugh. And here I thought River was the smart one of us.

“She wishes,” Seb chuckles. And while he could leave it at that, he evidently has to shoot himself in the foot by adding, “she can warm my bed, but I don’t tie myself down.”

Well fuck. Guess he’s content in letting River believe whatever she needs to so she can go on hating him.

River’s expression shutters, but Seb acts like he’s unfazed, glancing over at the chapsticks on the shelf beside him. His eyes skim over the flavors before he reaches out to pluck up a tube of strawberry, thrusting it in her direction. “Here.”

Her eyes flicker down to the chapstick. “That’s not the right kind,” she frowns, shaking her head.

“You sure?” Seb scoffs disbelievingly. “Cause you sure as shit tasted like strawberry to me.”

River jerks her head up to cut him a murderous glare, her cheeks reddening. Seb meets it with a cocky grin, ever the glutton for punishment. In an attempt to diffuse the tension, I reach between them to snag the correct flavor of chapstick off the shelf.

“Nah, she tastes like strawberry ice ,” I say smoothly, presenting the tube to her with a smirk.

River’s jaw goes slack as her head jerks my way, and meeting those wide, hazel eyes is a mistake. Damnit, I’ve missed that look . It’s not only rare that she gets all bashful and shy, but it’s also cute as fuck. When she gets that look on her face, it’s hard to remember why I’m supposed to be keeping my distance.

“There’s a difference?” Seb grunts, the sound of his voice knocking me back into reality.

She snaps her attention back to him, all traces of softness instantly gone from her expression. She might be a housecat for me, but she’s a hellcat with Seb. “Yes, there’s a difference,” she bites out, carding her fingers through her long dark hair.

To be fair, I didn’t identify River’s oddly specific flavor of chapstick by the way it tasted when we kissed. She’s been carrying that shit around for years, and details are kinda my thing. But I’ll let her believe whatever she wants, too.

“Prove it,” Seb challenges, licking his lips as he steps into her space. “Dare you.”

What the fuck is he doing?

River slaps a palm against his chest, shoving him back. “What the hell is your problem?”

“C’mon, it’s not like we haven’t done it before,” he drawls, hooking a thumb in my direction. “Or would you prefer to kiss Acey boy?”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Never gonna happen.”

“ Again , you mean,” I mumble.

She hits me with the same icy glare she just flayed Seb with. Good . Not only do I deserve it, but this is the way it needs to be, and we can’t lose sight of that just because she’s now invading our everyday life.

“Fuck you guys,” River growls, shoulder-barging between us to stomp off down the aisle.

“Only if you ask nicely!” Seb calls after her tauntingly.

I whack him on the arm, giving a little shake of my head.

Enough is enough. We’ve already accomplished what we set out to do; there’s no point in adding more fuel to the fire.

We both shamelessly stare at her ass while she walks away, mesmerized by the sway of her hips in her faded blue jeans. This whole thing would be a hell of a lot easier if River wasn’t a goddamn smoke show. Seb lifts a fist to his mouth, biting down on it with a groan as she disappears from sight.

“That went well,” I mutter, thrusting the pack of tweezers at his chest.

Seb grabs for it, brow furrowing. “What? We said…”

“I know what we said,” I interrupt, shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket. I finger the joint resting in there, suddenly needing a hit more than ever. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“You think I do?” he scoffs.

“Nah,” I grumble, shaking my head. “I think we’re both fucked.”

The gentle hum of the tattoo gun is like a balm to my soul as it vibrates in my grasp, my wrist flicking in well-practiced movements as the needle deposits ink beneath Seb’s skin. When I came up here to join him at training camp, I didn’t give up my pursuit of tattoo artistry altogether. I simply hit pause on the formal training, bringing my kit along with me so I could try to get some practice in during downtime.

This is the first time I’ve had the chance to get it out, and it’s exactly what I need. The ritual of tattooing relaxes me. That’s why I’ve got so much ink on my own skin– each design was a cathartic release, every image telling its own story. The more detailed pieces were my dad’s creations, done in his signature Callum Conway style, while I’m still working to hone my own unique aesthetic. With practice, I hope my designs will be as recognizable as his are someday.

This skull I’ve been inking on Seb’s bicep is one of the more detailed pieces I’ve attempted. If he had the patience to sit for a full session, it would’ve been finished long ago, but instead I’ve just been working on it slowly over time. He said he wants a full sleeve eventually, but at this rate, he’ll be an old man upon completion.

A lot of the recruits are up here in the lounge with us tonight. This week of squad drills has been intense, but with the promise of the full moon tomorrow, we’re all in good spirits and eager for the weekend reprieve from training camp. Not everyone’s going back home– my buddies and I have decided to stay here and run with the Goldenleaf pack to change things up– but even so, the prospect of having a couple days off has relieved some of the tension that’s always weighting this place down.

I lift the needle from Seb’s skin, wiping the excess ink off with a cloth and taking a second to admire my artwork, my eyes tracing over every delicate line.

“You done?” he asks, craning his neck to peer down at his arm.

“Not quite,” I murmur, chewing my lip in consideration for a moment before diving back in to tackle more of the shading. Even though I’m in the zone, that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to everything around me. I’m always acutely aware of my surroundings, and there’s a lot to pay attention to here in the lounge.

Beau and Eli are seated on the couch across from us, the two of them mashing the buttons of the Playstation controllers in their grasp while trying to pull out the win in the street racing game they’re playing. Chandler and her posse are across the room, while River and her friends have taken up residence on the sofas in the back corner, talking quietly amongst themselves.

I lift the needle from Seb’s skin again as I see Jake striding across the lounge in River’s direction, pausing to watch him approach her out of the corner of my eye.

“Hey Riv, you goin’ home tomorrow?” Jake asks.

The closer he gets, the more rigid her posture becomes, though her demeanor is deceptively casual as she replies, “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Want a ride?” Jake drawls smoothly. “I was thinking of leaving here around three.” He turns to Hayden, adding, “You can catch a ride with us too, if ya want.”

“No thanks,” River answers, throwing Jake a look that I can’t quite read.

He bristles as he turns his gaze back on her. “Why not?”

“Think I’m gonna take my bike,” she murmurs.

Something’s up. It’s not in River’s words; it’s in her body language. I’m picking up on her ‘fuck off’ vibes from all the way over here, so the fact that Jake’s acting like he’s oblivious to them is a red fucking flag.

I glance up at Seb as I flick the tattoo gun off, subtly nodding my head in Riv’s direction. He slyly shifts his gaze that way, joining me in eavesdropping on her conversation with Jake, who is still trying to get River to agree to ride with him to Summervale.

The way Seb’s jaw clenches as he watches their interaction solidifies that I’m not imagining things– there’s definitely something screwy going on there.

Despite our pact to keep our distance, the way we found River on Saturday night didn’t sit right with either of us. She seemed rattled when we approached her in the barracks, and while the thin strap of her top could’ve easily torn at any point, her reaction when Seb confronted her suggested it wasn’t merely an accident.

She hasn’t given us any indication since then as to what might’ve gone down, but as I watch her back and forth with Jake, an infuriating picture starts to form in my brain.

“I think something happened between those two last weekend,” I murmur, keeping my voice low.

“Didn’t you hear Gus mention something about Jake trying to come onto her?” he growls back.

“Yeah,” I breathe, recalling the conversation I walked in on Gus and Kendrick having in the showers yesterday morning. “Think he got rough with her or something?”

Seb suddenly whips his head around, glaring daggers at Jake’s back as he barks, “Riv!”

Her eyes ping over to meet his for a fraction of a second before she quickly looks away, pointedly ignoring him.

“River!” he calls out again, his tone laced with agitation.

She doesn’t bother looking over at him a second time, raising a hand to flip him the bird instead.

I can’t help but snort a laugh, even as a growl of frustration rumbles in Seb’s chest. He shoves his arm back into his sleeve, shifting forward on the couch like he’s about to stomp over there and drag her back kicking and screaming.

In an effort to prevent that scene from happening, I aim a weighted stare at River, compelling her to meet it. The moment she does, I beckon her with a lift of my chin. “C’mere, babygirl.”

Her cheeks turn red, but embarrassing her by using the old nickname is what it takes to finally get her attention. She pushes up to her feet with an annoyed grunt, shouldering past Jake and marching her sweet ass across the lounge toward us.

“What do you want?” she grits out as she approaches, folding her arms over her chest guardedly. Her gaze drops to the tattoo gun still in my hand, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Did you call me over here for a tattoo?” she asks, hazel eyes lighting up as she dances her fingers along her ribcage. “Because I’ve always thought about getting a little something on my side. Maybe a phoenix, like my Aunt Quinn.”

“Mm, if you want a phoenix, I think your hip would be better,” I muse, my gaze unwittingly dropping down her body as a design starts to take shape in my mind. “We could sweep the tailfeathers down into a killer thigh piece…”

“What? No!” Seb snaps, eyes darkening as he jerks his head toward me. “She’s not getting a fuckin’ tattoo.”

“Why not?” River scoffs.

“Yeah, why not?” I drawl, smirking back at him smugly. My fingers are suddenly twitching to get her skin beneath them, to watch my art come to life on her body’s canvas…

He frowns at me, jaw clenching as he turns his gaze back on River. “That’s not why we called you over,” he growls darkly.

“Then what do you want?” she huffs, meeting his stare with an arctic glare of her own.

“What’s the deal with you and Jake?” he asks.

Riv’s brows shoot up in surprise, but she quickly schools her expression, rolling her eyes. “How is that any of your business?”

“Answer the question,” Seb grits out.

She lifts her chin defiantly. “No.”

“Just tell us,” I sigh, setting my tattoo gun down on the cushion beside me. “Did something happen on Saturday night?”

River takes a jerky step backwards, unfolding her arms and punching her hands on her hips, instead. “Since when are you two so interested in my life?”

“We’re not,” Seb grumbles.

She snorts a laugh. “Coulda fooled me.”

Seb’s hands curl into fists as he quickly reaches the end of what little patience he has. “You want us to ask him ?” he snaps.

River’s eyes fly wide in alarm. “There’s nothing to tell!” she blurts, throwing up her hands exasperatedly. “He was interested, I wasn’t. End of story. Now about this tattoo…”

“You’re not getting a fuckin’ tattoo,” Seb snarls.

I’m about to ask him why again when it finally dawns on me what has him so worked up. The very reason tattooing River appeals to me so much is the same reason he’s so against it– because marking her skin with a design drawn by my hand would mean she’d have a piece of me permanently etched on her body, while he never will.

Fuck.

Guess I can’t blame him. I understand his position, and I’ve gotta respect it.

“Sorry, Riv,” I grumble, tucking my tattoo gun back into my kit. “Forgot that I don’t tattoo chicks.”

“Wow, Ace, didn’t peg you as a misogynist,” she deadpans. “Your mom must be so proud.”

“About as proud as your dad, I’m sure,” Seb remarks.

Goddamnit. He didn’t have to go there; he knows full well that any mention of her dad will strike a nerve. He never fucking thinks before he speaks.

River’s responding flinch betrays how well that hit landed, her face twisting up in a scowl. “Fuck you guys,” she spits.

“Can’t the three of us just coexist here?” I groan, rubbing two fingers against my temple.

“No, I’m fucking done with your bullshit,” River seethes. “I don’t care that we used to be friends, you guys are assholes. I hate you. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, just leave me the fuck alone.” She whips around, stomping away to go rejoin her friends while Seb and I slowly turn to look at one another.

He allows his mask of indifference to slip for a moment, and the guilt I see in his eyes reflects my own. It’s gnawing away at me, twisting up my insides and making me fucking nauseous.

If we were trying to push River to her breaking point, then I guess we’ve succeeded. There’s no victory in it, though. I just feel empty.