Page 35 of The Reckoning (Oakmount Elite #7)

“Some things never change,” I mutter, moving farther into the room.

It feels surreal, standing here with my twin, my girl, and my friends—the collision of worlds I’ve tried to keep separate.

“Nice outfit,” Lee says to Arson, gesturing to his clothes. “Enjoying the perks of being Hayes 2.0?”

“Lee,” Drew warns, but Arson just smiles, cold and predatory.

“I’ve found certain aspects of Aries’s life…educational,” he says. “The privilege, the deference, the unearned respect—it’s fascinating what people give you when they think you’re someone important.”

“Enough,” I snap, patience already fraying.

“We’re not here for a philosophical debate on identity.

We need your help. And we don’t have time to go into all the details.

TL;DR version: after graduation, Arson kidnapped me and locked me up in revenge for the years he spent in a mental institution, through no fault of his.

We are now working together to bring down my asshole father and his asshole company. Any questions…?”

Lee sits up in bed and grins again. “So that time in the bathroom…” He eyes Arson and blinks, perplexed by his statement.

Sebastian straightens his already perfect cuffs. “With what, exactly? Your message was rather vague.”

Wait…I glance at Arson, too.

What the fuck happened in the bathroom?

Arson wraps his arm around Lilian’s waist, and I shake myself back to the present.

I look at Lilian, silently asking permission to share her situation as she meets my eyes. She nods, a barely perceptible movement.

“We’ve got two problems. Patricia is planning something,” I begin, keeping my voice low despite knowing the walls of Mill House are practically soundproof.

“Something medical involving Lilian. Something that requires donations—money. We need to find out what it is and stop it. All they gave us was some kind of procedure. Additionally, we need to determine who is behind Arson’s revenge against my family and why.

And finally, we need to bring my father down for good.

If we can do all three without any of us getting killed, all the better. ”

“And this concerns us, how?” Sebastian asks, ever practical. “Family disputes are hardly our area of expertise.”

“It concerns you because I’m asking for your help,” I reply, an edge creeping into my voice. “Because when you needed me—all of you—I was there. No questions, no hesitation. And family disputes are all we seem to fucking handle,” I snap.

Drew has the decency to look uncomfortable at this. Lee just shrugs, unaffected as always. Sebastian maintains his poker face, but I know him well enough to see the calculation behind his eyes.

“What do you need?” Drew asks finally.

“Information,” Arson answers before I can. “Access to Patricia’s medical research, her communications, her schedule. The location of David Harlowe’s original will. And a secure place to operate from that isn’t my warehouse or this fishbowl.”

“That’s a substantial ask,” Sebastian observes. “Some of it is potentially illegal.”

“All of it is potentially illegal,” Lee corrects with a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Which is where I come in, I’m guessing? And I’ll have you know this is a very secure fishbowl. No outside observers. You gotta be inside the bowl to get a good view.”

“Your particular skills would be useful,” I admit. “But we need all of you. Sebastian, your family has connections to every law firm in the city. We need to find that will. Drew, you have security contacts, people who can help us stay off Patricia’s radar. And Lee?—”

“Can hack anything with a circuit board,” he finishes for me, echoing my earlier words to Arson. “Yeah, I got it. Digital B&E is my specialty.”

“What do you need?” Sebastian asks, always the point-blank businessman.

I snap. Not really at Sebastian. More at myself, our circumstances, at the distance I feel between these men I’ve shared so many years with. “I don’t fucking know. I need this fixed. I need Lilian safe. That’s what I need.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head anymore, man,” Drew says, apparently taking exception to my tone. “We’re here to help, so let us help. Maybe the evil twin has some ideas?”

“Evil twin?” Arson repeats, amused rather than offended. “How original.”

“You know what I mean,” Drew says, not backing down. “I don’t care which of you is more evil. I need to know what we are getting into here.”

I step between Drew and Arson before this can escalate further.

But Arson speaks up anyway. “What you get is the truth. About everything. The Hayes family, the Facility, what really happened at the boathouse that day. No more secrets, no more lies. And you get the satisfaction of paying Aries back for all the times he stepped up to save your ass without question. I’ve been watching your little gang for years.

I know your secrets. And I’ve kept them. ”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rise fractionally—the equivalent of shocked disbelief from anyone else. “The boathouse incident? You mean when?—”

“When our mother died,” Arson confirms, watching Sebastian carefully. “Yes. That incident.”

A heavy silence falls over the room. The boathouse has been taboo for years, a subject none of my friends dared broach directly. They knew the official story—that I had a troubled twin who caused an accident that killed our mother—but none of them knew the truth.

Not even Drew, apparently. Some small part of me always thought he knew. His family had been there that day, too.

“I’m in,” Lee says suddenly, breaking the tension. “This sounds way more interesting than debugging the trust fund baby app I’ve been working on.”

“Sebastian?” I prompt, turning to the most cautious of my friends.

He considers for a long moment, gaze moving between me, Arson, and Lilian. “The Harlowe will is likely a public record. Accessing it should be straightforward, assuming it wasn’t sealed for some reason. I’ll make some calls.”

Relief washes through me. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he cautions. “I’m not promising results, just effort.”

Drew is the last holdout, his expression unreadable as he studies Arson. “You’re really going through with this? Taking down your own family?”

“Not my family,” I correct. “Just Patricia and Richard. And anyone else involved in whatever they’re planning for Lilian.”

“Same difference,” Drew shrugs. “The Hayes name, the Hayes empire—it’s all connected. You bring down one piece, the rest follows.”

“That’s the idea,” Arson confirms, a savage satisfaction in his voice.

Drew nods slowly. “All right. I’m in. But we do this my way—careful, controlled, no unnecessary risks.”

“Your way,” Arson repeats skeptically. “The way that involves betraying your best friend to his long-lost twin?”

Drew’s expression hardens. “I made choices I’m not proud of. We all have. I’m here now, trying to make it right. I let things slide, I wasn’t as observant as usual, and I apologize for that. But that is the last I’m going to say about it. Drop it and accept our help, or get the fuck out.”

“How noble,” Arson sneers.

“Can we save the pissing contest for later?” Lilian interrupts, frustration evident in her voice. “We have work to do.”

“The lady has a point,” Lee agrees, already pulling out his laptop. “Where do we start? Patricia’s emails? Medical records? The will?”

“All of it,” I say, the weight of command settling back on my shoulders like a familiar coat. “Sebastian, start with the will. Lee, see what you can find on Patricia’s medical connections—focus on anything related to the Hayes Enterprises. Drew?—”

“I’ll secure transportation and a safehouse,” he finishes. “Somewhere off the grid but comfortable enough for extended use. You’ll need somewhere safe to go after the fallout at least.”

“And us?” Lilian asks, gesturing between Arson, herself, and me.

“We stay here tonight,” I decide. “It’s secure enough for now, and we all need rest before whatever comes next.”

“I’m not sleeping here,” Arson objects immediately.

“Then don’t sleep,” I snap, patience finally breaking. “Stand guard, pace the halls, give the mirror dirty looks—I don’t care. But we’re staying put until morning.”

“Fine,” he bites out. “But I’m not letting her out of my sight.”

His possessive tone ignites something ugly in my chest. “She’s not your property, Arson. She doesn’t belong to you.”

“Or to you,” he counters.

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Lilian interjects, voice tight with controlled anger. “And I’m standing right here, so stop talking about me like I’m not in the room.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, embarrassed by my behavior. “You’re right.”

Lee whistles low. “Damn, Hayes. Never thought I’d see the day you apologized to anyone.”

“Shut up, Lee,” I growl, in no mood for his commentary.

“And he’s back.” Lee grins, unfazed. “The Aries Hayes we know and tolerate.”

Sebastian clears his throat. “If we’re staying the night, I’ll need to make some calls. Reschedule my morning appointments.”

“Do it.” I nod. “And order food. I’m starving.”

“Pizza?” Drew suggests, already pulling out his phone. “Like old times?”

“Like old times,” I agree, a strange nostalgia washing over me. It feels bizarre, this attempt at normalcy in the midst of chaos. Playing at being college friends again when everything has changed.

As the others fall into familiar patterns—Lee setting up his equipment, Sebastian making calls, Drew ordering food—I notice Lilian slipping toward the door.

“Where are you going?” I ask, sharper than intended.

She flinches at my tone, and guilt immediately floods me. “Just getting some air,” she says. “There’s a lot of testosterone in here.”

“I’ll come with you,” Arson says, already moving to her side.

“No.” She holds up a hand, stopping him. “I need a minute. Alone. I’ll be right outside, okay? You can watch me through the window if you’re that worried.”

Before either of us can object, she’s gone, the door closing softly behind her.

“Nice job, Brother,” Arson says, contempt dripping from every word. “Very smooth.”

“Like you’re any better,” I shoot back. “Hovering over her like she’s going to break if you look away for two seconds.”

“At least I don’t snap at her for breathing wrong.”

“I didn’t—” I cut myself off, recognizing the futility of arguing. “Forget it.”

I move to the window, watching as Lilian steps out onto the drive. She grips the railing of the steps, head tilted back to look at the pale imprint of the moon rising into the dusk, and something in my chest constricts painfully.

She looks lost. Overwhelmed. And I helped put that look on her face with my impatience, my jealousy, and my inability to control my temper.

One more failure to add to my growing list. One more reason I don’t deserve her forgiveness, her faith, her—whatever it is she feels for me.

Behind me, the room fills with the sounds of planning and preparation. My friends—if I can still call them that—mobilize to help despite everything. Arson, my twin, my mirror, watching me with eyes that see too much. And outside, Lilian, bearing the weight of secrets and lies not of her making.

We are all trapped in a web of Hayes family manipulations. All of us are seeking truth, seeking justice, seeking some kind of resolution to the mess our lives have become.

I just hope we find it before Patricia’s plans come to fruition. Before whatever “procedure” she has planned for Lilian. Before the backers lose patience and take matters into their own hands.

Before the fragile truce between Arson and me shatters completely.

Time is running out. I can feel it.