Page 48 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

XAVIER

T he adrenaline still courses through my veins as I swing my leg over the BMW, the engine’s growl echoing through the garage. My brothers follow suit—Knox on his neon blue Aprilia, Vane mounting his green Kawasaki, and Landon settling onto his pristine white Ducati.

“Eagle Point?” Knox calls out over the rumble of engines.

I nod, pulling my helmet on. We need this—the open road, the speed, the freedom that only comes after a Hunt. The ritual is complete, but the energy buzzing under our skin needs somewhere to go.

We tear out of the garage in formation, me leading as always. The city blurs past as we navigate through empty streets toward the coastal highway. At this hour, Ravenwood belongs to us.

The wind cuts through my leathers as we hit the open road, four brothers united in the aftermath of the Hunt. The familiar exhilaration of speed grounds me and pulls me back from the edge where Mira has left me teetering.

At Eagle Point, we kill the engines and remove our helmets. The city gleams beneath the sky.

“Well, that was fuckin’ intense,” Knox grins, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Seven full-year claims in one Hunt? That’s a record.”

Vane leans against his bike, a smirk playing on his lips. “Told you Lia was worth the wait. Been watching her for months.”

“Stalking, you mean,” Landon corrects dryly, earning a bark of laughter from Knox.

“Pot, meet kettle,” Vane shoots back. “You’ve been obsessing over that Reynolds girl for weeks. Sadie, right? All those late nights researching her background?”

Landon’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t deny it. “She’s... complicated.”

“They all are,” I mutter, thinking of Mira’s defiant eyes even as she surrendered completely.

Knox jumps up onto the stone barrier. “Look at us! Xavier and Landon lose their year-claiming virginity at the same time. I’m so proud.” He wipes an imaginary tear.

“Fuck off,” I growl, but there’s no heat in it.

“Seriously, though,” Knox continues. “What changed? You’ve always been Mr. One-and-Done. Now, you’re signing up for twelve months with her? ”

Vane snorts. “Because she got under his skin. Look at him—still wound tight as a spring thinking about her.”

“You’re one to talk,” Landon observes. “You claimed Lia because she didn’t fall at your feet like every other woman.”

“Exactly my point. We’re all fucked.”

“Speaking of fucked,” I turn to Knox, unable to resist. “What was with all that gentle artist seduction bullshit? I watched the feeds—you were practically painting her fucking nails.”

Knox’s cocky grin falters. “Hey, that’s?—”

“No, seriously,” Vane jumps in, sensing blood in the water. “Where was the chaos? The mayhem? You tied her to an easel and what, whispered sweet nothings about color theory?”

“She’s an artist,” Knox defends, his cheeks actually reddening. “She needed?—”

“A gentle touch?” Landon finishes deadpan. “From Knox Blackwood? The same Knox who once threw a guy off a roof for looking at him wrong?”

“That was different!”

I cross my arms, enjoying watching my youngest brother squirm for once. “Different how? Because she paints pretty pictures?”

“Because she’s...” Knox runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Fuck, I don’t know, okay? She looked at me like she saw something worth saving.”

His proclamation lingers heavily in the air. Vane whistles low .

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. “We’re all completely fucked.”

“I wasn’t gentle!” Knox protests, but his voice lacks conviction. “I was... strategic. Had to break down her perfectionism, make her see beauty in chaos.”

“By caressing her?” Vane asks innocently.

“And feeding her chocolate-covered strawberries,” Landon adds. “Very strategically intimidating.”

Knox flips us all off. “You know what? At least I didn’t pick someone who’s actively trying to destroy our business. What’s your exit strategy when Mira starts digging again?”

The question hits harder than I want to admit. “She won’t.”

“You sure about that? Because from where I stood, she looked pretty determined to expose us all. A few good fucks aren’t going to change that.”

“It wasn’t just—” I stop myself before admitting how deep Mira has gotten under my skin.

Vane grins wickedly. “Oh, this is good. Xavier’s got feelings .”

“I don’t have feelings ,” I snap. “I have a year-long contract that ensures her silence.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Knox says, his usual humor returning. “But next time you want to mock my methods, remember that artists appreciate subtlety. Your prey? She’s going to eat you alive.”

“Speaking of business,” I say, pulling out my phone to check messages, “we’ve got that trade with Tyson tomorrow night. Warehouse district, usual spot. ”

Knox perks up, always eager for action. “What’s the shipment?”

“Fifty kilos moving through on their way to the coast.” I scroll through Tyson’s latest update. “Clean run, no complications expected.”

“Famous last words,” Vane mutters, lighting a cigarette. “Remember the last time you said that? We ended up in a three-hour shootout with the Morettis.”

“That was different. Sofia’s father was making a point about territorial boundaries.”

Landon straightens. “Speaking of the Morettis, any word on whether they’re still sniffing around our operations?”

“Nothing concrete. But I want minimal exposure tomorrow.” I look at my brothers. “Two of us max. Keep it simple.”

Knox hops down from the barrier. “I’ll go. Could use some excitement after all that... artistry.”

“You mean after tying a woman to furniture and calling it foreplay?” Vane shoots back.

“Hey, she liked it! Bianca’s got this whole fantasy about being a masterpiece, so I made her one. Sue me for being creative.”

“Creative is one word for it,” Landon says dryly.

I ignore their bickering, focusing on logistics. “Knox, you’re with me. Vane, you and Landon will handle the club tomorrow. Make sure operations run smoothly while we’re out.”

“What about our new... acquisitions?” Vane asks, exhaling smoke. “They start their contracts tomorrow. ”

“They adjust. Part of the deal.” I pocket my phone. “Mira knew what she was signing up for when she put her name on that line.”

Knox snorts. “Did she, though? Because watching her face during the ceremony, I’d say she’s still processing the reality of belonging to a Blackwood.”

“She’ll learn,” I say firmly. “They all will.”

Landon checks his watch. “It’s almost dawn. Shouldn’t we be getting back? Your prey is probably wondering where her new owner disappeared to.”

The word ‘owner’ feels heavier than it should. But I shake off the feeling.

“Let’s ride,” I say, pulling my helmet back on. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

The engines roar to life beneath us, but instead of falling into formation, I veer off toward the city center. Away from the estate. Away from the familiar route home.

“Xavier!” Knox’s voice cuts through the wind as he pulls alongside me at a red light. “Where the fuck are you going?”

I rev the engine, jaw tight beneath my helmet. “See you tomorrow.”

“Like hell!” He yanks off his helmet, blue eyes blazing with that familiar manic energy. “You’re not seriously?—”

“I said tomorrow, Knox.”

Vane pulls up on my other side, green eyes glinting with amusement even in the dim streetlight. “Let me guess. Urgent business to attend to?”

The light turns green. I gun it, but Knox matches my speed effortlessly, weaving through the sparse late-night traffic like the reckless bastard he is.

“Xavier!” Knox’s voice crackles through my helmet speaker, the motorcycle intercom cutting through the wind noise. “It’s against the fucking rules! Twenty-four hours, no contact with the prey. You know this!”

I know exactly what I’m doing. And I know exactly why Knox is trying to stop me. Because he can read me better than anyone, and right now, I’m transparent as fucking glass.

Mira’s been gone for four hours. Four hours since she walked out of Purgatory with Cora, both shell-shocked and silent. Four hours since I watched her climb into that taxi without looking back.

Four hours, and I can still feel her hands on my chest and hear her voice saying my name like a prayer.

This is bullshit. Complete fucking bullshit, and I know it.

I’ve never chased a woman. Never felt this gnawing ache in my chest when they were not within reach. I’ve never given a single fuck about the twenty-four-hour cooling-off period we’ve always enforced after a Hunt, as I rarely claimed women. Sometimes, I might have had them for a day or two.

But Mira isn’t just any woman. She’s not like the others who’ve warmed my bed and disappeared from my thoughts the moment they left. She’s under my skin, in my blood, rewiring a fundamental part of my brain that I didn’t even know existed.

“Xavier, don’t do this!” Knox’s voice is getting more desperate. “You’re losing your fucking mind over a woman who probably hates your guts!”

Landon and Vane have dropped back, recognizing a lost cause when they see one. Smart brothers. They know when to pick their battles.

But Knox? Knox never knows when to quit.

“The rules exist for a reason!” he yells, swerving around a late-night delivery truck to stay beside me. “Give them space to process! Let them?—”

I cut him off by taking a hard right toward Mira’s neighborhood, leaving him cursing.

Knox’s bike fades into the distance, his parting shout lost in the wind. Smart bastard knows when he’s beaten.

I pull up outside Mira’s building, the familiar weight of obsession settling in my chest like a stone. The windows are dark. Every single one.

My helmet hits the pavement harder than it should when I yank it off. The building’s entrance buzzes me through—money talks, even to sleepy doormen at three in the morning.

Her hallway smells like coffee and old carpet. I stand outside 4B longer than I care to admit, listening for any sound from inside. Nothing.

The lock picks easily—a skill that’s served me well over the years. Her apartment opens to darkness and silence. Empty.

“Fuck.” The word echoes in the space she should be occupying.

I flip on the lights, taking in her world. Books everywhere—journalism awards on the mantle, a laptop still open on the kitchen counter, half-finished coffee in the sink. Evidence of a life interrupted, but no Mira.

She’s supposed to be here. Processing. Thinking about what comes next. About me.

Instead, she’s... where? Some bar, drowning her sorrows? Another man’s bed already?

The thought makes my fists clench.

No. Not after what happened between us. Not after the way she said my name when she came apart in my arms.

Then it hits me. Obvious, really.

Cora.

Of course, she’d stay with her best friend. The same friend who got herself entangled with three vengeful individuals because she couldn’t stay out of business that didn’t concern her. They’re probably holed up together, comparing notes.

I should drive to Cora’s place. Drag Mira out of whatever pity party they’re having and remind her exactly who she belongs to now.

But Knox’s words echo in my head, stopping me.

The rules exist for a reason.

Twenty-four hours. It’s not long, but it’s what she’s been given. What we agreed on long before tonight changed everything.

My phone buzzes with a text from Vane.

Don’t do anything stupid .

Too late for that. I’ve been doing nothing but stupid since I set eyes on Mira Sullivan.

I force myself to leave her apartment, locking the door behind me. Tomorrow morning, she’ll be mine for a full year. And deep down, beneath the contracts and rules and games we play, I know it won’t end there.

Twenty-four hours. I can wait twenty-four hours.