By Any Means

Prologue

DUNCAN

Ten years ago

Imurdered a man tonight.

For the first time and hopefully the last.

It was a justified kill, sure. An eye for an eye.

But watching Barclay, my best friend, torture my parents’ killer in ways we never agreed to, that fucks me up.

My senior year in high school wasn’t supposed to end like this. I was supposed to be living peacefully with my parents in Evernote.

Instead, I had to relocate to Cobbledale, the wealthier town nearby in Upstate New York, after they died. To become the Montgomerys’ ward. My best friend’s parents.

Since then, my life has never been the same.

But nothing could’ve prepared me for taking part in a brutal murder.

I pinch my eyes shut, trying to block the world out. The low humming of the heater. The sound of Barclay’s footsteps climbing the stairs.

It doesn’t help. Behind my closed eyes, without the golden light flooding the expansive first floor, everything is somehow worse.

In the dark, memories sip in.

The blood.

The screams.

The gore.

Fuck.

Barclay, unlike me, couldn’t care less. A smile stretched across his face the moment we got our hands on Ross.

The school bully, who happens to be my best friend, enjoyed every second of it.

And while I didn’t get off on torturing him, the least I should feel is relief now that it’s over.

The worst of it is behind us. I got my revenge.

We didn’t get pulled over on the way to the beach, where we burned our dirty clothes.

We’re here, I repeat in my head, wearing clean-ish jeans and a T-shirt with a little sand clinging to them.

That’s already better. Much. They aren’t filthy like the ones we wore earlier.

Aren’t soaked in blood or streaked with dirt from burying my parents’ attacker behind the old warehouse owned by Barclay’s family.

My skin, though. Dammit.

I’m sure there’s a stain or two I couldn’t scrub off in the sink back…there.

The reminder sends a shiver through me.

A stain means there’s a part of Ross.

On me.

Get a fucking grip. Hit the shower. Sleep it off.

I try to move, and fail. My boots weigh a million pounds, holding me at the bottom of the stairs.

Fingers tingling, my hands clench and unclench at my sides.

Because the memory of Ross’s nails scattered all over the floor…

Remember how you found your parents?

As if I could ever forget.

Even when I knew their bodies were charred beyond recognition, I had to see them one last time. The detectives urged me against it. Said their dental records had confirmed their identities, that I didn’t need to put myself through it.

I did it anyway.

Sure enough, my only family lay there, burned and disfigured in the morgue.

All because they’d stayed after hours. Both were in the auto shop, working on different cars, the doors locked for the night.

According to the police report, the arson caused the fire to spread too quickly for them to escape.

It pissed me off as much as it crushed me.

But what didn’t bother me was when the detectives’ investigation reached a dead end.

Not for long anyway. A few months later, I learned who did it.

Ross. The auto shop owner.

I bumped into him on the street. With a smile that rubbed me the wrong fucking way, he said he was sorry, but hey, you got their small life insurance payout. Can’t be that bad.

Alarms went off in my head.

The next morning, Barclay and I went to Ross’s place. Dug through his shitty finances. Found an empty gasoline tank hidden in his garage.

It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.

Ross accidentally killed my parents while committing insurance fraud.

So, no, I shouldn’t be torn over how we murdered him. I should be satisfied that he’s dead.

Still.

My teeth won’t stop grinding. My muscles pulse, pulse, pulse.

Maybe I should get out. Go for a jog. Clear my goddamn head.

Or maybe I should go looking for her.

The girl who’s been a ray of light cutting through these dark months of grief.

I need it. That sweet face. Those gray, almost silver, eyes. They always fix the broken parts of me.

Or rather, she does.

Elowyn Faye Montgomery.

My best friend’s sister.

The girl I shouldn’t want, for many, many reasons.

For starters, I fell for her a few months before I moved in, when she turned sixteen. And even though she’s only a year younger than me, Elowyn is still too young.

Second, I’m supposed to be grateful to the Montgomerys for taking me in as their legal ward. While I’m under their roof, wanting their daughter crosses a line.

Last but not least, I can’t offer her a damn thing. My family and I have been struggling for as long as I can remember. I don’t belong in this town. In this life. The only reason I even go to the same prep school as Barclay and Elowyn is because of my scholarship.

And yet.

The heart wants what it wants. And it’s been wanting her for months now.

Ever since a switch flipped, my feelings for her hit hard and cut deep enough that I ended my first relationship over it. In a heartbeat.

Truth is, I can’t think of anyone else. I’m addicted to her.

To the quiet moments between us. The curve of her lips when she looks at me from across the dinner table. The hitch in her breath over something as small as good morning or goodnight.

Someday, we’ll be together.

When that happens, it won’t be rushed, secret, or wrong.

It’ll be real. A forever kind of thing.

Until then, all I have is her presence to comfort me. Especially on a night like this.

A plan is already forming in my head. Before I shower, I’m going to head upstairs and walk past her bedroom. If she’s left the door ajar like I hope, I’ll sneak a glance at the sweet, innocent girl I’m obsessed with.

The innocent girl you’re going to corrupt by making her share air with a murderer?

My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek, and blood floods my tongue.

She can never know what I did. Ever.

“Come on,” Barclay whispers from the landing, a lock of his ash-blond hair falling over his forehead. The warm glow from the chandelier reflects in his excited, pale-blue eyes. “Before someone wakes up and sees you with sand on your T-shirt.”

“Right.” I rub the back of my neck, lowering my voice for the sake of their parents.

They aren’t doing great. The last thing I want is to wake them.

“Cool. See you in the morning.” My best friend grins, fake salutes me, and disappears into his room.

If only he treated Elowyn the way he treats me. He isn’t the kindest person out there, but at least with me, he’s less distant. Less mean.

I wish I could do something about it. More than the bullshit I already do, like holding Barclay’s attention so he won’t be around her as much. Like asking her how she’s doing. Or sleeping outside her room.

Not at some point in the future, either, when I’ll make her officially mine.

Now.

Problem is, being obvious could get me kicked out of here. And moving out of the Montgomerys’ home means I won’t be able to see her every day. Won’t be there to help her.

On top of everything else, that last thought is what brings bile up my throat.

Fuck me, I’m going to be sick.

I feel too much. Too fucking much. I have to wash this day off.

Finally, my feet move, taking me up the stairs two at a time. As soon as I reach the landing, I make a beeline for my room instead of passing by Elowyn’s. I won’t throw up in front of her. I won’t.

I’m almost there when a small, warm palm on my shoulder stops me.

“Hey.”

Elowyn.

I’ve been so caught up in my guilt and hate that I didn’t hear her coming up behind me. But she’s here. The faint scent of her vanilla lotion, that hint of clean soap, they’re a breath of fresh air.

There’s no guilt, carnage, or bodies when she’s around.

Except…the blood splotch I must’ve missed, I think I feel it drying on my cheek. My crumpled shirt, the sand.

I can’t turn around. Can’t.

“Duncan.” Elowyn’s resolve echoes even through her hushed voice. Her hand tightens on my shoulder. “Please, say something. You two have been gone for hours. What’s going on?”

“Go to bed, Elowyn.” I want her close. Want to fold her in my arms and never let go. Want her to keep looking at me like I hung the moon. Not like I’m a killer. “It’s late.”

“No.” She releases me, but doesn’t leave.

Her bare feet pad softly across the floor as she circles me. At five-four, she’s a foot shorter than I am. Delicate, too. That doesn’t make her any less powerful. I don’t think she has any idea how strong she really is, deep down.

One day, I’ll teach her to fight back. To stand her ground. To see her true worth.

Until then…

“Go to bed,” I repeat, my hands clenching at my sides so I won’t touch her. I need to scrub them a million times before I put a single finger on Elowyn. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Your cheek.” Narrowed gray eyes study me intently. “You’re bleeding. What happened?”

Thinking fast, I rack my brain for a believable excuse that doesn’t involve killing someone.

Got it. “Scraped it on a fence earlier.”

Her cute button nose twitches. Her lips, full and pink, are pressed into a line of determination. The fact that her dirty blonde hair is messy doesn’t make her appear any less beautiful.

“No, I—we’re talking now.” Despite being hesitant, Elowyn doesn’t shy from assessing me from head to toe.

If I had to guess, she’s trying to figure out how to help.

She’s so sweet, my chest aches. More than sweet. She’s perfect.

Tomorrow, I’ll pretend to be the perfect boy too. When I’m up for it. When my jaw stops ticking, and my blood isn’t hotter than lava.

“Go. To. Bed,” I say, wanting this discussion to end and to stay in Elowyn’s orbit forever at the same time. “Please.”

“Duncan Rourke, you’re being seriously…” She crosses her arms over her chest, the pink nightgown’s fabric scrunching as she does.

She hesitates, words hovering on the tip of her tongue.

And when nothing comes, she snaps her lips shut.

I should be grateful for her silence. Should go to my room and call it a night.

Impossible. I’m desperate to know what she has to say. Why would she withhold it from me?