Page 85

Cade guided the car around the back, the tires crunching over loose gravel. There, in the shadows, an older model Lincoln waited, its engine off, windows dark. My brother pulled in beside it, angled slightly. We sat there for a beat, the weight of what was about to go down settling in.

“Ready?” Cade asked, reaching for his phone.

I nodded, powering mine off too. “Let’s get this over with.”

Xander was our driver.

Rook lounged in the passenger seat, window cracked just enough to let the smoke of his blunt curl out. His gaze drifted to the skyline, glassy eyes, like he was already carving the moment into a poem someone would get nightmares from if they read it.

Beside me, Cade shifted, leaning down to unzip the duffel between his feet. Inside, the streetlights caught glints of black leather, matte steel, and the kind of tools that didn’t belong in anyone’s gym bag. He tossed me a pair of gloves, then took a set for himself.

Rook flicked ash out the window, his grin lazy when he turned to look at us. “You kids ready?”

Cade flexed his hands. “Yes, daddy.”

Xander chuckled.

Rook’s smile deepened, his ember flaring one last time before he dropped the blunt and rolled up the window. “Good.”

Xander turned down another road and slowed as he killed the headlights. The Lincoln coasted to a quiet stop along a curb, tires crunching over loose gravel.

“That’s the house?” I asked, eyes locked on the two-story dump ahead. Faded yellow siding peeled like dead skin, and the porch looked like it hadn’t seen a level beam since the nineties.

Xander stared at it with visible disbelief. “Reaper didn’t say it was this bad.”

Cade studied it more objectively. “Looks about right for the school mascot. Haunted, hopeless...maybe actually haunted.”

My mouth twitched. “Whimsical.”

The place was dark, except for two windows. One on the first floor and another on the second. The porch light was trying to do something, but I’d seen lighters burn brighter.

“Side door?” Xander asked, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

Rook nodded. “Best option. The front has too much visibility.”

“Perfect.” I reached for a ski mask, yanking it down until the world narrowed to black cotton and slitted vision.

Cade had his on already, adjusting it with practiced ease. “Let’s do this.”

We moved as one, the car doors closing with soft thuds that barely disturbed the quiet. The air was thick and damp, heavy with the scent of male cat piss and decaying leaves.

Rook led the way.

We followed close, silent shadows cutting across the weeds and cracked pavement.

The side door was buried beneath a rotting awning, nearly hidden in the dark.

Rook crouched, gloved fingers already moving to unzip his lockpick kit.

The rest of us fell into position, Xander watching the alley behind the house, Cade angled toward the front.

I watched our backs. A soft click broke the silence, and the door eased open.

Rook slipped his tools back into his kit and shoved it in his pocket, his eyes catching mine through the slits in his mask.

“After you.”

We slipped inside.

Cade shut the door behind us and locked it back.

Straight ahead were basement stairs disappearing into the void.

To our immediate left was a short staircase that led straight into the kitchen.

We made our way up and then stopped to take in our surroundings.

There was a living room with a man facing away from us, completely unaware we were in his house.

Past it, a staircase wound upward. Ahead of us, through another doorway, was a dining room.

“What about his mom and the sister?” I asked, voice low, detached.

“ Mom is on the graveyard shift,” Rook replied. “The sister is at a birthday sleepover.”

Xander stepped forward, posture straight. “I’ll put the dad to sleep.”

Cade gave him a slight nod. The silent green light.

The guy was leaning back in his recliner, feet propped up, watching a movie with subtitles.

Xander moved like vapor.

In one fluid motion, he was positioned exactly as he needed to be to put the guy to sleep. The man’s eyes went wide, and he struggled, but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“Shh,” Xander whispered. “Go to sleep.”

The man thrashed, legs kicking against the recliner’s footrest. It was pathetic. After a few more seconds passed, his limbs went lax, and his head lolled to the side. Xander reached down, grabbed the remote, and bumped the volume on the TV a few notches higher.

With that taken care of, we climbed the stairs in silence.

A single nightlight glowed from an outlet.

The smell hit halfway up. The only way I could describe it was fish tank water and mint.

Wet, murky, and sharp in a way that turned my stomach.

Cade glanced at me, nose twitching, but neither of us said a word.

We kept moving until we reached the landing.

There were four doors in total. Two to the left.

The first was cracked and clearly a bathroom.

The second door was shut, but a bright pink princess sign hung from its center.

Of the doors on the right, it was clear which one we needed to go through.

I had never seen someone actually decorate their door like that.

Crowsfell banners were plastered all over it.

Football, fucking lacrosse, wrestling. Denis was spelled out, a letter missing.

I looked at Cade, and he nodded once.

I moved ahead of them and eased the door open, inch by inch.

No squeak. No sound. The room unfolded like a shrine to teenage filth.

There was a full-sized bed jammed into the far corner.

Sheets kicked halfway off. Posters of bikini models covered the walls.

Beer cans were stacked in a pyramid on the nightstand like some frat-boy altar.

The centerpiece of the room was the gaming setup.

I had to admit it was impressive.

Dennis sat in a leather gaming chair facing three curved monitors, a headset on, completely absorbed in what he was playing. He didn’t hear the door or feel the air shift when we entered and closed it behind us.

“I’m serious,” he was saying into the mic, voice nasal, too confident. “They act all high and mighty, but you know Sanj and Roxxi are getting passed around like party favors. Probably fucking the whole group. Ashton’s a cuck and doesn’t even know it.”

Cade went rigid beside me.

I didn’t breathe.

This little bitch dared to say her name. My girl’s name, and then shorten it, like he even had the right to form the first syllable.

“Arianna acts sweet, but she’s a tease. Don’t get me started on Cloe. She gets away with shit cause she’s got a pretty face and a fat ass.”

I could feel Cade vibrating beside me, fists clenched, every breath a fight not to explode. Rook simply watched and listened. I stepped closer, slowly and soundlessly.

“I’m not worried about their guard dogs. It’s all about image. Elite stuff, ya know? They don’t have a choice but to be friends.”

Guard dogs.

He had no fucking idea.

Dennis laughed, that dry, grating laugh that made my skin crawl.

“Just wait. The Hunt is going to air out all their dirty business. When people see who they really are? Bet I could bend any of those girls over and—.”

Cade lunged.

His hand locked onto the back of Dennis’s neck, yanking him back hard.

The other hand ripped off his headset, tossing it to the floor.

Dennis’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened as if to scream, but Xander was already there.

The gleam of his switch blade caught the monitor lights as it pressed against Dennis’s throat.

His face was still a mottled blue and black from when we’d caught up to him in the tunnel.

His eyes darted between us.

“Keep talking,” I prompted, voice calm. “What was that about my girl? My brothers? My family?”

He whimpered.

Now fully in his room, the fucking stench had everything I ate at Sanj's staging a rebellion. It was getting worse. I could handle blood without batting an eye. I wasn’t a fan of vomit.

Hated feces. Filth like this made my skin crawl.

The smell was fucking offensive. It rolled through the room like an invisible fog.

“What the fuck is that stench, Dennis?” Cade asked.

“This is the room of a failure,” Rook observed as he looked around.

Aside from what we’d already seen. A stack of pizza boxes was on his dresser, one of them oozing something congealed and yellow. A dirty sock that looked suspiciously solid clung to the corner of his gaming chair like it had fused there.

I could practically hear Sanj’s voice in my head if she came remotely near this place, burn it down, and salt the earth .

Xander pressed the blade a fraction deeper into Dennis’s throat. “Your room is a biohazard. It is unacceptable on every level. You’re a grown-ass man.”

His hazel eyes met mine, steady, waiting.

I gave a slight nod.

He withdrew, and the second Dennis sagged in relief, I grabbed the collar of his sleepy tee and yanked hard enough that he flipped. His chest hit the seat, the plush cushioning absorbing most of the impact, but his knees cracked against the hardwood with no mercy. A pained grunt escaped him.

Cade moved in fast, crouching beside him. Gloved fingers tangled in Dennis’s hair, jerking his head up like a puppet. “When you were down on your knees just like this, did you think that would be the end of it?”

I leaned in, close enough to smell his shallow, musty breath. “Answer him.”

“I, I made a mistake,” Dennis stuttered.

“You did, but luckily for you, we’re all for second chances.” I looked at my brother. “Help him up.”

Cade hauled him to his feet and made sure he didn’t go back down.

“You have got something to prove, right?” I questioned. “So, prove it.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, dazed.

“Fight back,” I told him. “You had a lot to say when you thought we weren’t listening. Time to back it up.”

“I can’t fight you.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Xander replied.