Page 14 of Endless Anger (Monsters Within #1)

ASHER

NINETEEN YEARS OLD

“Your call could not be completed as dialed. Please hang up and try the number agai?—”

Grinding my teeth together, I slam my thumb into the red End button and toss my phone at the sofa across the room.

Foxe comes in with a white towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with another, as steam billows in the doorway behind him. “Still no answer?”

I don’t respond, irritation licking a debauched path down my sternum. It’s worse than her simply not answering my texts or calls for the last year—now I’m blocked entirely.

Drives me fucking mad knowing she’s out there and I can’t get ahold of her.

Serves me right, I guess, but still.

I hate it.

Dropping his hair towel to the floor, Foxe strides to the minibar in the hotel suite’s kitchen, frowning when he realizes there are no alcoholic beverages inside. Jaw clenched, he retrieves a tiny water bottle, turning toward me as he unscrews the cap and takes a long sip.

His suntanned skin is covered in tattoos now; since graduating and setting off to NYC to join his cousin’s label as a debut artist, ink seems to be his favorite form of expression outside music.

Better than the alternative of getting blackout drunk every night, I suppose.

Personally, I can’t commit to tattoos. The idea of anything being permanently etched into my skin is about as appealing to me as a lobotomy.

My gaze slides back to my phone. I might as well not even bother charging it at this point, although if my parents can’t get ahold of me, they’ll track me down and drag me home.

Not that it’d matter much. I’m Foxe’s glorified babysitter. Guess all the worry about my future plans takes a back seat when someone else turns out to be a bigger threat to themselves.

“Tatiana booked a private club for after tonight’s gig,” Foxe says, putting the bottle on the counter. “I heard the stars of some local reality TV show might be around. You in?”

“Do I have a choice?”

He rolls his eyes. “Obviously. I don’t want to drag you out if you’re going to be a fucking bummer the whole night. If I can’t drink, I’m going to need you to. As my proxy.”

“Not interested.”

“Oh, come on . You can break your principles once . For me?”

“No.”

“Are you really gonna make me fly River out here? You don’t mind corrupting my baby brother like that?”

I roll my eyes as a knock sounds at the door. Aiden James, Foxe’s cousin, pokes his head in before entering, followed closely by his short, pink-haired wife.

“Getting River to do something other than junior champion orchestra would be the real challenge here,” Aiden says, crossing his tan arms over his chest. They’re covered in sleeves of tattoos from when he still toured back in the day.

“And you’re not going out tonight, anyway.

We have to be packed and on the bus by four. ”

“Ugh, Riley, can you please explain the importance of R&R to your husband? I think retirement is warping his brain.”

Her blue eyes glitter, her pale cheeks flushing. “Sorry, Foxe, but I’m in agreement. We told your parents no parties.”

“So the adults who gave me my first joint as a teen have taken the side of my oppressor.” Foxe shakes his head, throwing his hands up. “It’s a sad day.”

He groans when no one refutes the assertion, then stomps into one of the two adjoining bedrooms, slamming the door shut with his heel.

“Speaking of parents,” Aiden says, taking a seat at the table in the corner. He runs a hand through his brown hair, his gray eyes finding mine. “You check in with your old man today?”

Though not related to me, Aiden and Riley have known my parents for decades, and they’re as much a part of the family as my other aunts and uncles.

Mom likes to say Dad adopted pretty much every stray human he met after they got married, as if he was making up for the fact that he’d been alone most of his life.

In contrast, he’s made sure his kids have never known a moment of peace in theirs.

“I’m an adult, you know,” I tell Aiden, though I get up to grab my phone anyway.

“But a baby adult,” Riley says, walking over to perch on Aiden’s knee. She gives me a small grin. “The world is your oyster, but you’ve barely even begun to see it.”

“Which means you can still use the guidance of those older than you,” Aiden adds. “And, also, I don’t want your dad calling me if he doesn’t hear from you. So get on it.”

Grunting, I get up and head for my bedroom, leaving them in the living area.

Keats meows loudly as he traipses out from the darkness, rubbing against my shins.

I sit on the bed and scratch behind his ears, sending Dad a quick text.

While I wait for his reply, I open an old—long-dead—thread and stupidly pray to a god I don’t believe in for its revival .

Hope swims in my stomach when a notification flashes on the screen, but it’s dashed immediately when I note the caller.

Exhaling slowly, I lean back and close my eyes, bracing myself as I answer. “Noelle.”

My sister squeals at the sound of my voice, and I take the phone away with a wince, waiting for her to stop. It takes a full ten seconds, and then she’s babbling like we didn’t just speak last weekend.

“Asher! What are you doing right this second?”

“Sitting in my hotel room.”

“Oh good, so you’re not occupied.”

“I didn’t say that?—”

“Your boredom is implied!” she singsongs. “Luckily for you, I’m right outside the Carlyle, and I’ve got somewhere you’ll definitely want to go.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

“Would you just come on? Jeez. Act like you miss your big sister, you little rat.”

Biting back a smirk, I get up and shrug into my jacket. Foxe hasn’t come back out, so I tell Aiden and Riley where I’m going, and head down to the lobby.

My sister stands at reception, twirling a piece of her long, dark brown hair around one finger.

“…you can’t beat LA views, but New York does come pretty close,” she tells a short, stocky bellhop behind the counter. “NYC wasn’t quite far enough from home though, you know what I mean? Sometimes, you just have to fly across the country and start fresh.”

He’s not paying attention to a word she says, too busy staring down the plunging neckline of the dark green romper she’s wearing.

If she notices, she doesn’t seem to mind. Attention is currency to her.

I mind though. It’s fucking weird.

Snatching her hand, I tug her away from the desk before she can say any parting words, and she lets out a small yelp, jerking out of my hold.

“Hey!” She tenses and whirls on me, her hazel eyes wide and hand outstretched as if to slap me. When she realizes who I am, she lets that arm fall, breaking into a smile instead. “Oh yay! You’re here!”

Throwing her arms around my neck, she launches against me, giving the tightest hug I’ve ever received. Even from her, the most touchy-feely person I’ve ever met.

I pull back, holding her away with both hands on her shoulders. She seems thinner than before, and there’s something off about her smile, but I don’t say that.

“What are you doing here?”

Her lips form a perfect pout. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I just saw you at Q’s birthday party.”

“Months ago! Don’t you miss me at all when I’m gone?”

I’m not really sure what to say to that, so I don’t reply to it. “You seem weird.”

“How so?”

Squinting at her, I note the mascara smudged beneath her eyelids. The shallow curves of her cheeks, the way she can’t seem to fully maintain eye contact, instead volleying between mine like she’s vibrating.

Quincy’s the calm and collected one, and Noelle is the glamorous one, but there’s nothing glitzy about the way she looks right now. Like Los Angeles has somehow sucked the soul right out of her body.

“I don’t know,” I say finally. It doesn’t feel right to pry.

I’m sure if something were wrong, she’d have told our parents anyway.

“All right, whatever.” She grabs my hand, yanking me toward the front entrance of the hotel. “Let’s go.”

“This is kidnapping,” I mention as she drags me outside into a waiting SUV.

“Kidnapping is our family legacy,” she says simply, shoving me into the passenger seat. “Shut up and enjoy the ride.”

Several blocks past the Carlyle, she stops at a gas station, turning the engine off and hopping out. She extends her palm across the console, waiting.

I arch an eyebrow.

“Gas money please.”

My other eyebrow hitches as well. “You’re asking me to fund my own kidnapping?”

“Well, just the trip.” She reaches behind her head, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m a little strapped for cash right now.”

“Pretty sure Mom and Dad give you the same allowance they give me and Q.”

“Do you want a copy of my receipts or what?” she snaps. “LA is expensive, and so are headshots and agent retention fees and networking dinners. Do you have money or not?”

Annoyed, I shove my fist into my pocket and draw out a wad of cash. I start to sift through the bills, but she leans over the seat and snatches them all.

“This is perfect!”

“That’s several hundred bucks.”

“Should’ve held a tighter grip!” she sings, hopping out and slamming the driver door shut.

I check my phone again. Still no messages. This is going to be a long fucking night.

Six goddamn hours later, and we pass a stone Welcome to Fury Hill sign before entering the city limits of a town I haven’t visited in years.

Not since I was fourteen.

I didn’t go at all when Lucy toured. That should’ve been her first red flag.

Though I suppose blaming her isn’t fair when I was stringing her along with false promises the entire time .

“What the hell are we doing here?”

Noelle’s wrists are draped lazily over the steering wheel as she navigates the town’s main two-lane highway. “Well, it’s the end of the first month of the semester. I thought we could pop in and say hi.”

My stomach churns. “To whom exactly?”

“We only know two current students…”

I clench my fists. “No. Absolutely not, Noelle.”

“Oh please!” she whines, drooping her shoulders. “You guys need to talk. You’re making holidays awkward.”

“I’ve not been attending holidays.”