17. Cousin Campout
Cousin Campout
Soriah
T he savory aroma of seared ground meat fills the air, mingling with Auntie Nat’s humming.
Some of the tension from the last twenty-four hours sloughs off of me. I close my eyes, breathing deeply.
Home .
Normalcy .
Aunt Nat doesn’t know about the stalker and appeared thrilled when the four of us showed up unexpectedly. Zeke had rushed through the door, picking his mother up off her feet and swirling her around in a giggling hug while Uncle Zac watched from the base of the stairs.
He hadn’t offered much of a greeting, but a small smile wormed its way onto his lips, looking on as Natalia fussed over Zeke after he set her onto her feet.
Their affection was palpable, and oddly, it made me ache for a hug from my own mom, which is ridiculous. I saw her just yesterday .
Has it really only been a day since my life turned on its head?
A hand landed on my hip, and I’d looked up into Zade’s knowing eyes. Our mother is an easy woman to love. The only ones who didn’t like her were people who got on her bad side. My brother’s green pools reflected my brief bout of homesickness for our mother.
“How’s the trip to la-la land?” Aunt Nat jokes, and her chuckle snaps me from my reverie. We’d arrived a little over an hour ago, picking out rooms and placing our things down. Zade insisted on setting up his computers while I agreed to help Aunt Nat with dinner.
Zeke and Zephyr disappeared into some other room in the massive house.
I give her a hesitant smile, ignoring the flare of concern in her brown eyes. She and Mom are nurturers at heart and able to discern the faintest whiff of something being off.
Warm skin slides over my hand, gripping the knife. I’d paused mid-slice into the sausage link, momentarily basking in the normalcy of spending time with one of my favorite aunts.
Nat’s only a couple of years older than my mom, and Aunt Zoe is only a few years younger than my sister, Lauren. I know I shouldn’t have favorites, but it’s hard when the woman offering silent comfort was literally there in the hospital the day I was born.
Dad had to work, and while Mom wasn’t the one to push me out, she’d wanted to be present, and naturally, her sister joined her, refusing to miss the birth of her adopted niece.
“What’s on your mind, Riah? You know you can tell me anything? Are you guys in some kind of trouble? Zeke won’t mention anything other than something about a cousin camp-out.”
Guilt surges, and I duck my head. I don’t want to lie, but she’ll only worry if I tell her the truth.
My cousin gives off the impression he tells his mom everything, too, and even he hadn’t the heart to lie to his mom, giving her a portion of the truth.
No wonder he’s avoiding her and his dad, knowing they’ll try to pry the information from him.
“Really, Auntie, it’s?—”
“There’s my beautiful flower,” Uncle Zac says, startling me. The knife slips from my hand, and we both jump back as it falls tip down to the floor.
Fuck, that was close.
“Careful, niece.” I look over at him, flinching at the empty smile on his face. “You wouldn’t want to hurt your aunt, now, would you?” he asks, strolling into the kitchen, a hand lifting to beckon her toward him.
She crosses the distance in a couple of strides, a flirtatious smile on her face.
If it wasn’t cute witnessing their obvious infatuation with each other after all these years, I’d gag.
My mom and dad are the same. I sigh, glancing down at the half-chopped meat.
If I could have a relationship with a tenth of what they’ve got, I’d be happy.
Zade’s mischievous grin flashes in my mind, and my body warms.
I’m half in love with him, but really, what kind of relationship could we have? I don’t want to imagine the disappointment on our parents’ faces if they should find out about us.
“Where are the boys?” I overhear Zac ask Nat, murmuring low and intimate. Ugh. I bet they’re breathing in each other’s air. My eyes remain trained on the kitchen counter, ears flushing red from being a trespasser into intimate moments between my aunt and uncle.
I get it. You’re in love. Please quit canoodling while the food is cooking. But I keep my lips pressed tightly together, anxiously waiting out their hushed conversation.
Several smooching sounds later, the feet pad away. I risk a glance up, and a subtle tint stains my aunt’s cheeks as she turns back to me with a delirious grin. She clasps her hands in front of her like a teacher addressing a class.
“Let’s finish getting dinner ready,” she says with way too much enthusiasm.
Yes, let’s. I reach down to pick up the knife, quietly wishing for dinner to be over so I can sneak into Zade’s bed. It’d felt too good sleeping next to him last night, his hard chest pressed into my back.
I can’t wait to repeat the experience.
Zephyr
A red glove-covered fist flies at my face and I duck to avoid the hit, striking out blindly with my legs, hoping to knock Zeke’s big ass to the ground. Warm skin brushes the soles of my bare foot, hinting that I’d missed, and I grunt, doubling over from the undercut I didn’t see coming .
Wheezing and clutching my side, I glare up at the shit-eating grin on his face. He wants to gloat; it’s written all over him.
But a throat clearing dashes cool water on both of us, our heads whipping toward the door. Zac’s eyes land on me, a heavy weight to the assessing look he roams across my bent-over position.
“Boys,” he murmurs, stalking into the make-shift gym Zeke and his “uncle” Deaton cobbled together. Deaton is Uncle Zac’s cousin on his adoptive parents’ side of the family. Then again, no blood ties me to my cousin either, and he’s still family to me.
Annoying, obnoxious, and persistent family. After we agreed to bunk together—cause hell will freeze before I share a room with Zade—he told me I looked like I needed to hit something, so here we are, nearly an hour later. Or has it already exceeded an hour?
Sweat coats both of us, dampening our clothes that stick to every bit of skin it comes in contact with.
“Sup, Dad?” Zeke calls over his shoulder, pulling a glove off and offering the hand to me. I grip it begrudgingly, allowing him to haul me to my feet. I give his dad a nod as a greeting. We’re about as close as I am to my own father. In other words, perfect fucking strangers.
And I don’t trust those sapphire eyes that dance and flicker with a multitude of things he’s adept at hiding. The yawning years that separate us leaves me feeling like I’m at a disadvantage, and few people throw me off balance. Zeke is one, but clearly, it’s a learned behavior.
“Give us the room,” Zac says quietly, holding a hand out for the gloves. I shoot a wild look at Zeke, who ignores it, pulling the other glove off without question and handing them over.
Son of a bitch. He is not about to—Zeke flashes a smile over his broad shoulders, already walking out of the room before I can finish the thought.
What the literal fuck? I get that his parents technically saved him by adopting him but come on! To blindly do as they command—I jerk my gaze towards the smirk lifting the corners of Uncle Zac’s mouth. He’s grinning like he knows exactly what’s spinning through my head and I don’t fucking like it.
“You want to spar with a real opponent, Nephew?” he asks, sidling closer and tugging the gloves on without waiting for my response. My eyes dart from him to the door. I’m reminded that a very real serial killer is stalking toward me and his son just fucking left with barely a “good luck.”
My nostrils flare with the thought, “ Kill them both, ” but that’s suicide. Two against one, and Zade would probably not be any help. He might even watch while snacking on popcorn. Is there anyone in this family who isn’t fucking useless?
“I hope you’re not scared of me, Zephyr,” he says. I’m unable to resist twisting my lips into a mocking scowl. Yeah, that was believable, Hannibal Lector. No fucking thank you.
I take two steps back before widening my stance and lifting my fists. The shark-like smile widens on my uncle’s face. Distantly, I imagine a trap closing around me. I walked into that one, didn’t I? And he’s about to lay my ass flat.
Right on queue, he flies at me, and I scramble to dodge each well-aimed punch. Within minutes, my lungs burn, and my muscles tremble from exertion. He hasn’t hit me once, but he keeps me on the offensive, dancing around the fucking room with little space to breathe.
Weak-kneed, I trip over a piece of the mat, falling flat on my ass and staring up at Death.
He cocks his head, waiting like a damn predator.
I don’t rise to the bait, laying there and allowing my heart rate to calm.
My lungs thank me for the reprieve. I shake my head, blinking sweat out of my bleary eyes. He fucking wins.
A sharp chuckle leaves him, his shoulders shaking from the hysterical laugh.
He sounds like a damn hyena, prey cornered and ready to be devoured.
That’s me. But he doesn’t make a move to harm me.
Instead, he slowly kneels, looming over me like a blond, macabre grim reaper, skeletal tattoos winding up his hands, arms, and neck. They stop just below his jawline.
“Let’s chat, Nephew.” Now’s a weird fucking time to talk, but I don’t say that.
“What do you want to talk about?” I rasp, throat feeling like sandpaper. Fuck, I need water. I may pass out from dehydration, but Zac doesn’t look like he’s in a mood to move away anytime soon.
“Do I need to worry about you?” he asks, and my brows dip in confusion. Damned if his smile isn’t creepy, stretching wider at my apparent ignorance.
“You’re sleeping here for the first time as an adult male, under the same roof as my wife .
Do I need to worry about what you’ll do when you think we’re snug in our beds and obliviously trusting in the arms of the sandman?
” Icy fingers snake down my spine as his meaning hits home.
He thinks—I shake my head emphatically, swallowing several times as I do it.
“Uncle—” He lifts a hand, cutting me off, his smile sliding away. A colder look enters his eyes, colder than the phantom strokes along my nape. Hell isn’t hot, I realize. It’s fucking frigid and the look in my uncle’s eyes promises he’ll send me there if he thinks I’m a threat to his family.
“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt.
Once. Betray my trust and,” he leans closer, those glacial irises demanding all of my attention, “I’ll skin your sister first since she’s not a blood relative.
Maybe I’ll even paint you in her blood, so your father will be convinced you did it.
We both know he doesn’t trust you completely, either.
” He leans ever closer, letting me feel his warm breath drying the sweat on the bridge of my nose.
“I make a better ally than an enemy, Nephew. Remember that. Now!” He jumps to his feet, a jovial expression quickly replacing the wintry one from seconds ago.
“My flower is making dinner. Why don’t you go shower, then meet me in the dining room to help set the table?
” Dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and to the untrained eye, he appears the epitome of the doting uncle.
But I know better. Wordlessly, I watch him stride out of the room, tossing the gloves over his shoulders along the way while whistling, all without waiting for my response. He knows I’ll be there, right next to Zeke, the dutiful son.
Damn, that fucker is scary.
Anon
They took my angel! They fucking took her while I was helpless to watch. Flashing lights light up the entire neighborhood, cops racing down the street to what must be the address of my fake angel. I’d planned to stop by there and grab souvenirs from our time together.
Looks like someone reported her missing, all without discovering the body. It’s currently in my warehouse downtown, skin peeled off and hand stitched onto a mannequin. It was a painstaking task, but it occupied the hours until I could see my angel again.
I hadn’t expected on my return from a supply run a few hours ago to witness her brothers and an unknown brown skinned male carrying bags into a truck.
She’d looked small, dwarfed between the two dark-haired men.
One of them, possibly the mute since he was left behind, installed those damning cameras.
He’ll need to be taken care of.
She’s mine .
I can’t let them keep her away from me. But the cops act as a deterrent to breaking into their house for clues of where they could’ve taken her.
I stalk back to the car I’d exited in the hope of getting a closer look at the investigation of the false angel’s disappearance. Maybe I should’ve taken more time with her .
Moonlight streams down in an angelic beam, luring my eye to a straggler from the crowd gathering outside neighboring houses. Everyone stepped out of their homes, eager eyes roaming over the uniformed officers striding in and out of the house.
Soon, they’ll make their way to addressing the crowd, maybe even questioning them.
White teeth gleam, biting down on a full lip.
Her .
She will do. And everyone’s too busy looking away from her. My feet walk faster toward my car, eager to grab some necessary supplies to guide my new friend back to the vehicle.
Maybe the night won’t be a waste after all.