Chapter 4 Hayze
FOUR
HAYZE
From the corner of my eye, I observe every step my father takes. He looks haggard. Weak. Malnourished. And I’m positive he hates every second of the curious looks my brothers have been giving him. I know better than to say a word about it. One simply does not question Finneas’s authority.
“Father, I don’t understand where you’ve—”
“Enough,” he growls at Dragan as we cover the final distance to the compound.
Despite the state of him, our father’s bark is impressive, and if I were my brother, I’d keep my mouth shut instead of antagonizing him, otherwise, he’ll be feeling his bite.
“Son, I’ll remind you only this once—it is not your place to question me. ”
At Dragan’s sullen expression, our father acquiesces with a tired sigh.
“I will tell you this, in hopes that should any of you find yourself in similar circumstances one day that you’ll have some sense in your head and be able to save yourself.
I returned to compound grounds as scheduled, only to find the bridge had washed out in the storm.
I focused on the survival skills I’ve acquired throughout my lifetime—those same skills I’ve taught you.
“My primary concern was food, especially since I only had a knife on me. I backtracked to the truck where I had plenty of supplies to wait things out.” He presses his lips together.
Rafe listens with rapt attention, but Dragan looks bored.
And again, I’m smart enough to realize what our father expects.
“It’s why you’ve taught us to always be prepared for any eventuality.” I nod.
“Correct. And when it became clear that the bridge repair was going to take longer than I might have supplies for, I hiked along the river for many miles down off the mountain until I found a less-treacherous place to cross.” He lifts a hand to his jaw, scratching the thick growth of blond beard he’s acquired while away.
“Didn’t stop me from slipping and hitting my head, though. ”
I nod, eyeing the damage he did to himself. “We’re glad you’re back, Father. We’ve missed your guidance during your absence.”
He purses his lips, eyes flicking to find mine. “I have no doubt of that.”
“Hayze had to correct Arrow.” Dragan gives a devilish grin, chuckling until he notices the brows raise high on our father’s forehead, and then his mouth snaps shut.
We pause, and my father takes me by the shoulders, his gaze roaming my face. “Tell me.”
I release a steady exhale. “It’s true.” Avoiding too much detail, I opt to keep it simple and focus on my part instead of the rest. “The Collective discussed it, then brought out the whip and had me use it.”
His jaw works to the side as he considers what I’ve said.
“They had you administer a beating.” Several agonizing seconds go by while I wait with bated breath for what he’ll have to say about the events that transpired in his absence.
Gaze narrowing, he finally nods. “I’ll want to hear more about this whole situation later. ”
Fucking Dragan. Can’t believe he opened his mouth about that.
I hate that my exhale is unsteady. “Yes sir.” My father’s reaction is one of being caught off guard.
Having me act in his stead can’t have been something that’d ever been discussed before.
Something tells me the decision the remaining members of the Collective made is not one he agrees with.
And that … well, it has anxiety clawing its way over my skin, leaving its mark in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
I am the firstborn. My jaw works to the side. Why would he have a problem with their decision? It made sense to me at the time, and his irritation is unsettling.
We approach the main door, and it swings wide as Arrow steps out. There’s a grim set to his jaw that I can’t quite read, but assuming Cross has already made it back with Twenty-Three—Delilah—then perhaps the state I imagine she’s in could have something to do with the disquiet in his gaze.
The image of her unmoving body on the ground with my brother looming will be forever imprinted in my thoughts, as will the resulting panic that’d surged through me.
The fact that I hadn’t been able to go to her or say a fucking word to Dragan about it is still simmering hot in my blood.
And then my father hadn’t allowed me to be the one to deliver her back to the compound.
I couldn’t give her an ounce of reassurance.
I simply had to let her go. And now, who knows when I’ll get a chance to talk to her.
Something about the way she’d glared is eating at me, but right now, my focus has to be on remaining in my father’s good graces.
Arrow stops before us, and the nervous swallow that works down the column of his throat is visible.
He’s no idiot. He knows Finneas will eventually find out about what he did to earn the correction, but the poor guy has no clue Finneas already knows that he’s done something that merited it.
My father clears his throat. “Follow. Honor. Nourish.” His gaze pointedly pins on Arrow as he tips his chin downward to finish.
“Kneel.” When he doesn’t immediately drop to the ground before him, Finneas’s brow jerks upward.
“I understand you’ve had some trouble remembering your place while I’ve been gone. Don’t make things worse.”
Arrow’s lips part as if he has something to say, but he falls to his knees all while shaking his head before staring at the ground. “No sir. I haven’t forgotten. I—” He jerks to a stop.
I feel for my friend in this moment. He’ll be distraught to have made yet another misstep, and because of that, his limbs twitch with unease. His blood visibly pulses at the side of his neck with our leader’s full attention on him.
“Stand,” Finneas rasps, his tone demanding and sharp.
“Let me see how you’ve been corrected.” He stares stonily as Arrow climbs to his feet and turns, bowing his head.
He remains stock-still with hands on hips.
My gut twists while my father’s gaze roams the massacre of healing skin on his back, the wounds that I put there.
He’ll carry scars the remainder of his days.
My chest becomes painfully tight. I can only hope the extent of the correction meets my father’s approval, that he doesn’t feel I was at all merciful in my administering of it. Not one of us speaks. We don’t even breathe. No one dares.
All my father does is grunt his satisfaction. “You came out here for a purpose, I take it?”
Arrow whirls around, face pale. “Yes. Nolan has been informed you’re here and might be in need of assistance.”
My father’s brow arches, but he nods. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” Arrow winces. “Do you know where Kiefer is?” He pauses, gritting his teeth as his eyes flick to the jagged wound on Finneas’s head. The rain that continues to hammer down on us is washing the old blood in pink rivulets down the side of his face.
“It’s Malakai … he’s been injured as well.” Lightning zigzags across the sky, lighting up the entire yard, and the accompanying thunder crashes, punctuating Arrow’s revelation.
“How?” Finneas bites out, demanding an answer.
“We don’t know, sir.” He shakes his head, the drawn set of his jaw telling the story.
He truly has no idea what happened, and it’s bothering him.
I’m going to have to wait until I can get him alone to ask for more details, because it actually doesn’t seem as if my father cares.
It’s not my place to butt in with my own questions.
Inside, we pause only long enough to remove boots before heading toward Nolan’s quarters.
As we get to the stairwell, though, Finneas points upward.
“Rafe, Dragan, you can go ahead and shower, if you want. Get to bed. Arrow, you too.” He pauses.
“Though, I’ll want to speak to you soon.
We haven’t finished discussing your infraction of the rules. ”
Nervousness flickers in Arrow’s pale-blue eyes, and for good reason. A choked sound erupts from him, but he simply nods.
“Hayze, you’re with me until I’ve seen what’s going on.”
“Yes sir.” And while I’m exhausted, it’s best if I find out more about what transpired in those woods, especially with how cryptic Arrow is being. Malakai was hurt? What the fuck happened? My mind swims with more questions.
Dragan scowls as he eyes me. It’s unsettling.
He’s the second son. It will always be me Finneas chooses, so long as I follow his rules and requirements to the letter.
My younger brothers turn and race up the stairs.
This isn’t the first time lately that I’ve questioned whether the benefits of being the heir is worth it.
A tight smile crosses Arrow’s lips as his eyes pin on mine.
There’s a haunted quality to them tonight that wasn’t there earlier.
It concerns me. But there’s simply no time to ask him what’s going on, not that there’s a chance he’d tell me within Finneas’s earshot.
The idea that it has something to do with whatever happened to Malakai is disturbing …
and doesn’t quite fit. Fuck. I have no idea, but he seems relieved when my father motions that he can go.
He takes off like a shot, the marred skin of his back taunting me as he hurries away.
Following my father’s lead, we head toward Nolan’s rooms. I cock my head because the closer we get, the more faint voices drift down the corridor. It’s definitely Cross and Malakai.
The door stands open, and I follow my father inside, only to have him pause before taking more than a step or two.
What I see over his shoulder leaves me gasping.
Mal is lying stomach down on one of the exam tables with Cross at his side.
He’s a mess, blond hair at the base of his skull stained a garish reddish-pink hue, streaks of blood covering his back where rainwater traveled from the wound downward.