Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Jackson
The look on Ava’s face as I pull back and rise from the bed hits me like a fist to the chest. It’s that raw mix of confusion, vulnerability, and something dangerously close to longing that gets me.
And that right there? That’s why I stayed the fuck away for the last three years. Because I know what I do to her. And what’s worse, I know what she does to me.
Whenever I look at her, it unearths emotions I’ve spent years trying to bury. And I know, if I’m not careful, I’ll pull her back into the darkness with me. Because I don’t know how to love without burning everything down.
I point to the breakfast I’d ordered and left for her on the desk—orange juice, eggs, bacon, fruit, and bagels. “Eat something.” I grab her phone and slide it into my back pocket. “And don’t leave this room.”
Her mouth opens, maybe to argue or to beg, but I don’t even hear it, because I’m already gone, heading down the back staircase.
The moment I hit the kitchen, voices drift up around me, low and casual.
A burst of familiar laughter cuts through the hum.
I wade through the cluster of people and see my sister sitting on the marble counter, laughing at something someone said.
For fuck’s sake.
I grab her arm and yank her off the counter. Everyone scatters.
“Didn’t I tell you not to leave the bedroom?” I say.
“They were just telling me about the beach party that’s happening tomorrow night.” She takes a bite of the banana in her hand. “Besides, I was hungry. You said I could come down to the kitchen.”
“Get upstairs and fucking stay there,” I snap. Grabbing a snack is one thing, but I can’t have her wandering around the house, just randomly chatting with whoever.
As usual, she scoffs and rolls her eyes at me. “God, I forgot how uptight you were. Seriously. We’re just talking.”
“This is a secret society, Em. ‘Just talking’ to anyone here is a fucking problem.” With a sigh, I tilt my head back. “You know what, this is on me. Maybe I should get you that hotel room, after all.”
“Oh, my Goddd,” she groans, moving toward the staircase. “You are so fucking lame, Jackson. You need to learn how to chill.”
Me, chill? Yeah, that shit’s not happening.
I haven’t been chill since…well, ever. Chill is for people who don’t have responsibilities, who can afford to let things slide.
I’m the person who reads the fine print, who keeps backup plans for the backup plans.
Someone around here has to give a damn, and apparently, I drew the short straw on that.
The sound of Em’s footsteps stomping up the staircase fades, and my phone rings. It’s Mom’s ringtone—the theme to Jaws. Perfect fucking timing, as usual.
“What’s up?” The irritation bleeds into my tone despite my efforts to sound neutral. It’s been radio silence from her for years. She won’t see me, won’t take my calls. She must be reaching out now because she needs something.
“Your sister abandoned me,” she barks, her speech slurred.
I tilt my head back and pinch the bridge of my nose. “Really? Because I heard you threw her out.”
The self-pity in her voice shifts instantly to anger. “Oh, ‘you heard.’ Is she there with you?”
“Mom—”
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Jackson. I know she’s there. She always runs to you when things get difficult.”
I know better than to let her bait me. “What do you need?” I ask, my tone flat.
“I need her to come home.”
Good God. Here we go.
I sigh. “Not until you stop drinking.”
“I had one drink, Jackson. One. But Ember is just like you. She thinks she’s better than everyone else.”
I can hear her shuffling around in the background, probably pouring another drink. “Mom, you need help.”
“No, what I need is my children to stop lecturing me.”
“We’re not lecturing you. We’re trying to help you.” I push out a frustrated breath. “Look, I already have a room set aside for you at Lockly. All you have to do is show up. I’ll even send a car to pick you up.”
Lockly is a swanky rehab facility about fifteen minutes from here. It’s expensive as fuck and a bitch to get into. I had to pull some major strings just to get her a bed. But she refuses to accept anything from me.
“Do you know when I started drinking, Jackson? Hm?” She doesn’t wait for my answer. “The night my husband died. Three years ago.” She sniffles on the other side of the phone. “Everything fell apart after that. And you just...disappeared. Left to play house with your little society friends.”
Christ. Here we go. Right on cue, she’s flipping the script and loading up the guilt.
It’s like watching the same tragic play on repeat.
Either Em or I call her out on her shit, she spirals through crying and yelling, then lands right back on mourning the asshole husband who never gave a damn about her.
“You weren’t happy, Mom. John was a fucking pervert, who—”
“Stop!” she yells, cutting me off. Ice clinks against her glass in the background. “I didn’t call so you could berate me. I called so you can tell your sister to come home.”
“That’s not happening until you sober up,” I say, hanging up before she can respond. My hands are shaking, and I realize I’m gripping the phone hard enough to crack it. Perfect. Now I’m pissed off and still have a house full of problems to deal with.
Down in the basement, Lucas and Ash are waiting just outside the entrance of the Panic Room—a secret room our predecessors hollowed out beneath the house for caging problems that should never see the light of day. Problems like Sin Savano.
I glance over Ash’s shoulder and spot Sin on the cot through the doorway. The small cement room is furnished with a cot, a chair, books, and a drain in the floor.
“Hey,” I say, walking up to Lucas and Ash. “I’m busy. What’s up?”
“What the hell is this?” Lucas holds up a black envelope with the gold Burning Crown seal broken. “Lindsay is delivering these to the senior members. She said you called for a last-minute ceremony.”
Lindsay is the Burning Crown member in charge of coordinating our official society events. I texted her after my chat with Christian yesterday.
“I just got one, too,” Ash says, pulling the gold-embossed invite out of the envelope to read it out loud. “‘Special ceremony to be held tonight at ten o’clock tomorrow night. Attendance mandatory.’”
“What the hell is this ‘special ceremony’?” Lucas asks.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll find out tomorrow,” I say cryptically. The less I tell my fellow Sacred Sons, the less likely they are to try and intervene.
“Does it have something to do with Ava?” Lucas asks, clearly suspicious.
He’s right to be.
“Why the hell are we down here?” I ask, abruptly changing the subject. “I’m busy. I have shit to do.”
Ash crosses his arms over his chest and settles into a wide stance. “We need to make a decision about Sin. He’s been in this fucking basement for weeks now, and the longer we have him here, the more likely Shadow and Ash are to retaliate, or worse, try to break the motherfucker out.”
Shadow and Ash—a rival secret society that’s been gunning for the Burning Crown for a while now.
We had no clue they even existed until they flipped one of our own members and used him as their personal Trojan horse to gut us from the inside.
The plan failed, but here’s what we’ve discovered about Shadow and Ash: failure only makes them hungrier.
They don’t quit. They adapt, then come back swinging.
So, yeah, Ash is right to be concerned.
“So, what’s the move? Kill him?” I cross my arms over my chest and shrug. “I’m down for that. Fuck, I’ll slit his throat right now, but we’d have to be unanimous to do something like that.”
“All in favor of killing Sin?” Lucas says, holding his hand up.
Ash pushes out a breath, like he’s about to say something for the millionth time. “We told Christian—”
“Fuck Christian,” Lucas snaps. “Eve has him so pussywhipped, he couldn’t see the truth if it grabbed him by the balls. Getting rid of Sin is the only answer, and you both know it.”
Lucas and Christian are identical twins, but they haven’t spoken since Lucas tried to drown Christian’s girl, Eve, a few weeks ago.
So, yeah, I get why Christian is furious—hell, I’d be ready to snap someone’s neck, too—but this rift between them is exhausting.
Every time they’re in the same room, it’s like a storm ready to break: sharp glares, tense shoulders, clipped words that barely make it past their clenched jaws. It’s annoying as fuck.
With a heavy sigh, I glance at Lucas. “If you want Sin gone, then take it to the Senior Council and make a case for it. That’s the only way we can bypass Christian’s vote.”
“Dude, come on,” he says, annoyed by my response. “We kill guys like this on a daily basis, and we’ve never had to run it by the Senior Council for approval.”
Fuck, I’m ready to inflict some pain. I get off on it—the snap of bones, the warmth of blood. It feeds the monster that’s clawing at me from the inside, and that bastard is starving.
But, still. We have rules. And they need to be followed; otherwise, what’s the fucking point of any of this?
“We can kill him when we all agree,” I say.
Lucas rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything because he knows I’m right.
“Fine,” he finally says, clearly pissed.
That’s when Sin laughs. “Having trouble making decisions without daddy’s permission?” His voice is hoarse from weeks of captivity, but the arrogance is still there.
Lucas takes a step toward the doorway, but I hold up a hand to stop him.
“Don’t let him rile you up,” I say. “He’s fucking powerless in here.”
Sin’s eyes find mine, and that fucking smile widens. “Oh, I don’t know about that…”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“You think you’re untouchable here, but information travels. I know about the girl upstairs. Ava Baldwin.” That smile turns cruel. “Pretty little thing. Shame she got caught up with you.”
How the fuck does he know about Ava?
My hands ball into tight fists at my sides, fingernails digging into my palms. Lucas mutters something behind me, but I’m too focused on Sin’s smug face to hear him.
Every fiber in me screams to lash out, to strike, to hurt.
But I clamp down on it, teeth gritted, lungs burning, aware that if I let go, I’ll lose control entirely.
“Say her name again, I fucking dare you,” I say, my voice low. “See how long you last when I get creative with that smart-ass mouth of yours.”
“You want to know the best part?” Sin continues, ignoring my threat. “You can’t stop what’s coming. The wheels are already in motion. It started with the article. By the time everything is over, the Burning Crown will be nothing but ashes, and you’ll be rotting in a cell where you belong.”
That’s all I need to hear. I shove past Lucas and Ash, stepping into the cramped room. “You piece of shit.”
Sin doesn’t even flinch as I approach. If anything, his grin deepens. “There’s the infamous Jackson McKnight. Always ready to solve his problems with violence.”
I don’t even think. My hand connects with his face with a sharp crack that echoes off the cement walls. His head snaps to the side, but when he looks back at me, he’s still smiling through the blood that’s oozing from his split lip.
“Feel better?” he asks, wiping the blood with the back of his hand.
I grab him by the collar and pull him close. He’s a big guy, so that’s not fucking easy. “What the fuck do you know about Ava?”
He leans forward, voice dropping to a whisper that chills me to the bone, “I know she isn’t as innocent as she pretends to be...”