Page 34 of The Reckoning (Oakmount Elite #7)

NINETEEN

ARIES

A day of pacing these concrete floors, staring at the same faces, drowning in guilt and rage and memories I’ve spent years burying—it’s too much. We need resources. Information. People who aren’t trapped in this twisted family drama.

“We need help,” I announce, striding into the security room where Arson and Lilian are hunched over a laptop. “Professional help.”

Arson doesn’t look up. “We’re handling it.”

“Are we?” I gesture to the laptop screen, covered in dead ends and unanswered questions.

“Your backers are breathing down our necks. Patricia has some medical procedure planned that requires donations, whatever the hell that means. And we’ve got nothing.

No leverage, no plan, nothing but speculation and paranoia. ”

“And your solution is what?” He finally glances up, eyes cold with distrust. “Call in the cavalry? Alert the whole world to our situation?”

“Not the whole world. Just my people.” I cross my arms, bracing for the fight I know is coming. “Drew, Sebastian, Lee. They have resources, connections, and skills we could use.”

Arson’s laugh is short and bitter. “Your people. The same ones who didn’t notice when you were replaced? Who drank and partied with me for months without realizing I wasn’t you? Those people?”

The accusation stings because there’s truth in it. My friends—my supposed friends—didn’t notice the switch. Didn’t see the differences, the tells, the subtle shifts in personality that should have been obvious to anyone who truly knew me.

“Maybe you played your part a little too well, Brother,” I remind him, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. “I can give them a little leeway, considering you played the part from graduation, not like the entire senior year. They barely saw you.”

“Even so…if we need allies, we need people who are at least observant enough to notice the change of an entire person.” Arson stands, squaring off against me. “Your friends are either oblivious or complicit. Either way, I don’t want them anywhere near this operation.”

“They’re not perfect, but they’re loyal to me.

” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. Are they loyal?

Was Drew? Is anyone in this fucked-up world actually trustworthy?

“And they have skills we need. Sebastian’s family has connections in every legal firm in the city.

Lee can hack anything with a circuit board. And Drew?—”

“Drew is too distracted by his own life,” Arson cuts in. “He didn’t even realize I was you for months. Why would you trust him now?”

“I don’t,” I admit, the words sharper than intended.

“But I trust his self-interest. And right now, his interests align with ours. If anything, the fact that you tricked them all for months will batter their pride into helping us. Even if…” I swallow hard, not ready to admit that men I saw as my brothers for so long could just let me rot away in a cell. “We aren’t as close as we used to be.”

Lilian stares between us, tension evident in the set of her shoulders, but it’s clear she was listening. “Maybe Aries is right. We do need help. People who aren’t emotionally compromised by all this.”

Arson’s gaze flicks to her, something softening momentarily before the walls slam back up. “Fine, but we aren’t doing this here. I’m not bringing your frat boy entourage anywhere we’re trying to live.”

“Fine.” I pull out my phone, already composing a text. “Then we take Lilian to Drew’s place. Neutral ground.”

“Absolutely not.” Arson’s refusal is immediate and vehement. “I’m not letting her out of my sight, especially not at Drew’s.”

“Then where?” I demand, my own frustration mounting. “We need somewhere secure, somewhere we can talk freely without worrying about Patricia’s people finding us.”

The answer comes to me as I’m asking the question. “The Mill House. My room. It was our plan to go there after we left this safe house anyway, right?”

“Your old room,” Arson corrects, a flash of satisfaction in his eyes. “I was living there, remember? Sleeping in your bed, using your things. I packed it all up.”

The reminder is a deliberate jab, designed to get under my skin. It works, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. “The point is, it’s on campus. Secure building, familiar territory. Neither Patricia nor your backers would have surveillance set up there.”

Arson seems to consider this, weighing risks against benefits. “And your friends would meet us there?”

“They would.” I finish the text and hit send. A group message to Drew, Sebastian, and Lee: Mill House. My room. One hour. Emergency. Tell no one.

The replies come almost immediately. Three variations of On my way . No questions asked. Whatever else they might be, they respond when called.

“It’s done,” I say, pocketing the phone. “They’ll meet us in an hour.”

Arson’s expression darkens. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“You want to protect Lilian? Want to figure out what Patricia is planning? This is how we do it.” I hold his gaze, refusing to back down. “Unless you have a better suggestion? Your own allies maybe…but considering your allies so far, I’m not holding my breath.”

He glances at Lilian, who offers a small nod of encouragement. “I think it’s worth a try, Arson. We need all the help we can get.”

His jaw works silently, frustration evident in every line of his body. “Fuck it. Fine. But if I get even a whiff of betrayal from any of them, I’m shutting it down. Hard.”

“Fair enough.” I turn to Lilian. “Pack whatever you need. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

She nods, rising from her chair with a wince she tries to hide. The bruises from her captivity are fading, but they’re still there, a visual reminder of everything at stake.

As she leaves the room, Arson turns to me, voice pitched low to ensure she can’t hear. “If this blows up in our faces, if she gets hurt because of your friends ?—”

“My friends have girlfriends and wives. They wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.” I cut him off. “And if they tried, I’d end them right fucking there. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Like you didn’t let our mother die?” The accusation slips out, casual as a knife between the ribs, whispered so there’s no chance of Lilian hearing. Is that how it’s going to be, then?

I flinch, the guilt a physical pain in my chest. “Low blow, Brother.”

“Just keeping perspective.” He moves past me toward the door. “Fifteen minutes.”

Alone in the security room, I allow myself a moment of doubt. Am I making the right call? Can I trust Drew? Sebastian with his family’s corporate connections? Lee with his questionable ethics and even more questionable contacts?

Does it matter? We need help, and they’re the only allies I have left. The only ones I’ve ever had.

My phone buzzes with another text from Drew: Is this about L ?

I don’t bother responding. He’ll find out soon enough.

The Mill House looks exactly the same—the old Victorian facade, the ivy-covered wall, the pretentious entry.

It’s the most exclusive residence on campus, home to legacy students and the exceptionally wealthy if they can get in.

I lived here for four years, right up until Arson decided to steal my life.

Now I’m returning as an intruder, a ghost haunting my own past.

“This was a mistake,” I mutter as we approach the building.

Campus is quiet tonight, most students either studying or partying elsewhere, but a few curious glances follow us. I’m thinner, unkempt, dressed in too big clothes—hardly recognizable as the Aries Hayes who used to hold court in the Mill House common room.

“Too late to back out now,” Arson says beside me, looking far more the part in his tailored shirt and designer jeans. “Your fan club is waiting.”

I ignore the jab, focusing instead on Lilian. She’s been quiet since we left the warehouse, withdrawn in a way that concerns me. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she says, the automatic response unconvincing. “Just…a lot is happening very quickly.”

We enter through the side door, bypassing the main entrance where we’d more likely be noticed. The familiar hallways bring a wave of unwanted nostalgia—memories of late-night study sessions and pre-game drinks, the countless mundane moments that made up my life before Arson destroyed it.

My room—former room—is on the third floor, a corner suite with a view of campus. Another perk of being a Hayes, of being Richard’s golden child. The irony doesn’t escape me.

I hesitate outside the door, suddenly uncertain. Is this still my space? Has Arson changed it, marked it as his own? Will my friends even recognize me as I am now?

“After you,” Arson says, mocking courtesy in his tone.

I push the door open and step inside.

The room is surprisingly unchanged—same furniture, same art on the walls, same organized chaos I’ve always preferred.

Three figures rise as we enter: Drew, lounging in my desk chair like he owns it; Sebastian, impeccable as always in a tailored suit despite the late hour; and Lee, sprawled across my bed, looking like he just rolled out of someone else’s.

“Holy shit,” Lee says, the first to break the silence. “It’s true. There really are two of you.” A smile plays on his lips like an eager puppy. I don’t even want to know what he’s thinking.

“Astute observation,” Arson drawls, closing the door behind us. “I can see why you keep him around.”

Drew steps forward, eyes cataloging the changes in my appearance all over again. “Aries.” A nod to me, then to my twin. “Arson.” His gaze lingers on Lilian. “Lilian.”

Sebastian, ever the diplomat, breaks the tension. “Perhaps we could skip the pleasantries and get to why we’ve been summoned? But first…what the fuck?”

Drew sighs, and Sebastian flicks him a glance. “You told us, but I mean…I guess I didn’t see it until right now.”

Sebastian laughs gleefully and pats the bed. “Come sit, Lilian. You look a little pale.”

Lilian steps closer to Arson. She knows of Lee but hasn’t interacted with his particular brand of crazy, so it makes sense she’d be leery.