Page 1 of The Reckoning (Oakmount Elite #7)

ONE

ARIES

T he first thing I notice is Drew’s stupid fucking grin, like he’s stumbled onto a practical joke instead of a hostage situation.

He leans against the doorframe arrogantly, twirling the key card between his fingers like it’s a poker chip, taking his sweet time while my mind races with a thousand and one questions.

How the fuck did he find us?

Has he known all along where I was but didn’t tell anyone else?

Does he know anything about Lilian?

“Well, isn’t this awkward?” Drew says, whistling low as his gaze bounces between us. “Two Aries for the price of one.”

“Where’s Lilian?” Arson demands, ignoring his bullshit.

Drew’s expression shifts from smug amusement to a flicker of concern.

“Lilian? I don’t know where the hell she is.

I came looking for you.” He points at me.

“None of us has heard from you in weeks, except for Lee, and even that’s been sporadic.

Every phone call goes straight to voicemail.

I finally got fed up and tracked your car to this shithole. ”

“You tracked my car?” I squint at him. “How the fuck did you track my car?”

“I have trackers on everyone’s car. After all the shit we’ve been through, I felt like it was a baseline security measure.” His eyes skim the facility that we’re in before returning to land on me. “And I wasn’t wrong.”

I’m forced to admit he wasn’t, but I don’t concede graciously.

“It’s fucking great that you finally noticed I wasn’t around or acting like myself and decided to do some investigating, but it’s a little late now. We have bigger issues to worry about. So you haven’t seen Lilian at all?” I pull against my restraints, the metal biting into my already aching flesh.

“No,” Drew speaks slowly, his eyes narrowing as he properly takes in the scene. “What the fuck is going on? Why are there two of you? I thought you said your brother died? Like when we were in our midteens, right?”

“He’s obviously my twin brother,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady despite the fresh wave of nausea at the abject betrayal.

Drew utters a soft, “Duh,” that I ignore.

“His name is Arson. The family kept him locked away for years. I thought he was dead, too, until he kidnapped me to get revenge. You met him when we were kids. You don’t remember? ”

Drew’s eyes widen, and he blinks as if he’s trying to pull up the memory. “You have to be shitting me.” He shakes his head as if he can’t believe it. He turns to Arson, his smile charming. “Well, I guess, nice to see you again. Weird you’re not actually dead, though.”

All I can do is roll my eyes as he continues with a grin directed at me now. “Damn, your life is like daytime soap opera gold.”

“Sure it is, but you’re missing the point. None of this is important right now. Lilian’s been gone for over twelve hours, and she locked us both in here and didn’t return.”

“We’ve had no contact with her since then,” Arson says impatiently, finally deciding to join the conversation.

“This just keeps getting better,” Drew says. “Lilian. That little five-foot-nothing, blond-haired walking heart condition locked you both up? Why would she do that? Better yet, how did she do that?”

I exchange a glance with Arson, silently asking how much we should reveal. The shame of what happened between the three of us still hangs heavy in the air, and I don’t know that we need to air all of our dirty laundry.

“It’s complicated,” I finally say. “Emotions were running high, some things were said, she got upset, and then left.”

“Ohh, so you’re both in the doghouse, then.” He chuckles, and his gaze sweeps the room again. “Or better yet, the dog cage .”

“Seriously?” Is he really making a joke out of this situation?

“Okay, I’m sorry. So you made her upset enough to lock you both up and leave you to rot together?”

Drew sounds genuinely concerned now, though I can’t tell how much is real and how much is acting.

You never can tell with him. So even now, I have no idea if he’s actually concerned about Lilian or simply playing the part he thinks we want to see.

That could also be the betrayal talking.

I’m beyond angry with him and my other friends, and the fact that it took them this fucking long to realize something might be wrong.

I’ve been trapped for months, and they just now started asking questions.

“She was upset, but she wouldn’t have left us here for this long,” Arson insists. “Something’s happened to her. Now are you going to help us or waste more time acting like an entitled dick?”

Drew studies us both, his gaze lingering on me for a half-second longer than necessary. There’s a lingering question in his eyes that I don’t want to answer. “Say I let you out,” he says carefully. “How do I know you won’t just kill each other? Clearly, you two need to sort out some serious shit.”

I blink. How is this even a question?

“Finding Lilian comes first,” Arson says, and the certainty in his voice surprises me. “Everything else can wait.”

I nod my head in agreement. “We can settle scores later.”

Drew hesitates, the key card still in hand. “So you both care about her that much?”

“Yes,” we answer simultaneously, another unsettling moment of twin synchronicity despite our hatred.

The look on Drew’s face shifts into shock mixed with respect.

He’s known me long enough to recognize when I’m putting aside a personal vendetta for something more important.

Maybe he thinks that by knowing me, he knows my twin, as well.

He has no clue who Arson is or what he will do.

He should be as wary as me when it comes to him, but none of that seems to matter, since right now, all I care about is getting to Lilian.

We don’t have fucking time for any of this bullshit.

“Fine,” Drew mutters, finally stepping forward to unlock the door and enter. “But if either of you is fucking with me, you’ll regret it.” He moves toward my restraints first, then holds his hand out to Arson. “Key.”

“Where did you find the card?” Arson asks as he slaps the key into Drew’s palm.

Drew makes quick work of the first cuff. “Outside, near the east entrance,” he says, moving to the second restraint. “Figured it was dropped accidentally. I saw your car and decided to see if I could get any answers.”

The restraint falls away, and I resist the urge to rub my raw wrists.

Instead, I watch Drew’s hands carefully —the same hands that passed me drinks in college, that helped me when I was too drunk to stand, that I trusted for years to lead me and protect me.

Hands that had no problem shaking my replacement’s hand while I rotted in captivity.

The moment I’m free, every instinct screams to lunge at both of them—Drew for not even noticing one of his best friends was missing, and Arson for everything else.

Thankfully, I have enough self-control to suppress it, focusing on what matters now since I know there will be time for retribution later, once Lilian is safe.

“We need to figure out where she went,” I say, finally rubbing my wrists, eyes locked on Drew in silent accusation. He doesn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just doesn’t give a shit.

I stand slowly, muscles protesting after hours of restraint. The cell’s dimensions feel even more claustrophobic now that I’m upright—a concrete box designed to break the spirit as much as contain the body. Perfectly calculated, just like everything else my brother does, apparently.

“How long have you been locked up?” Drew asks, actually sounding concerned. “You look like shit.”

“Months,” I reply tersely. “The days blend when you’re inside a cage.” His eyes widen slightly, and I see calculation forming, chased by guilt, before it clears.

Good, let him stew in it.

Arson leads us toward his security room, moving with the confidence of someone in familiar territory.

I follow, cataloging every door, building the mental map I’d begun to create of my prison.

Or at least what I gained the night of my near escape.

Knowledge I should have had weeks ago, if I’d been more careful, more observant.

If I hadn’t underestimated my own brother.

Then again, how could I have known?

Everything about my brother was pushed so far into the back of my mind. Every lie my father told, every beating he gave me to force me to forget Arson—all of it tries to surge forward at once.

I can’t let it. I shove those thoughts deep, so deep all I feel is a numb awareness of their presence, and I focus on the men with me.

“This place is insane,” Drew comments, looking around at the converted warehouse. “How long have you been planning this whole twin-revenge thing?”

“Years,” Arson says shortly, clearly uninterested in small talk. “The security room is this way. We can check the camera feeds and get a better idea of which direction she headed.”

The walk gives me time to study my twin from behind—the squared shoulders, the measured stride, the constant awareness of his surroundings. He moves like someone who has learned to navigate hostile environments, expecting threats from all sides.

What exactly did they do to him in that place?

The security room is a stark contrast to the industrial warehouse—featuring sleek monitors, state-of-the-art equipment, and a setup that would make government agencies envious.

The room screams obsession, years of planning, and single-minded focus.

Another stark reminder of how thoroughly I’d been outplayed.

“Jesus,” Drew mutters. “You weren’t fucking around.”

Arson ignores him, typing rapidly on the keyboard. Multiple camera feeds appear on the screens, their time stamps indicating they’re from yesterday.

“There,” he says, pointing at one screen showing Lilian exiting through the side door. The time stamp reads 5:42 p.m. “She left this way.”