Chapter 1
PARKER
Three years later
Since Reid’s kidnapping, we’ve been taking it easier on the missions. I don’t know if it’s Hayden or Robin being careful, but it’s worrying. Do I like committing murder? No. But we do what’s necessary to protect the people who need protecting.
It’s pretty easy to incapacitate someone with one simple touch.
Jacob and I have been black belts since we were kids.
Mom was always at work, and we were usually at the neighborhood center trying to stay out of the trouble that kids like us often got into.
We didn’t need to worry Mom more by getting up to no good.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a decent kill count.
We do what we have to do in this job, and I’m particularly good at it, especially when it comes to killing without leaving a trace.
But I can’t shake the feeling that something bigger than us is happening.
Something bad. Sure, Reid might be one of us now, but that doesn’t mean we should just forget that Dante’s twink boyfriend was kidnapped and tortured solely to find out who we answer to.
I’ve had this argument with Hayden at least five times the past few weeks to no avail, so I’ve effectively given up.
“Why are you staring at your book like you want it to ignite in flames?” Reid asks around a mouthful of toast covered in apricot jam.
I scowl at him. “I’m concentrating.”
Reid makes a disbelieving sound in the back of his throat. “Sure.”
I watch in revulsion as he dunks his apricot toast into runny egg yolk and almost gag.
A muffin will have to do for me today. I slap my book shut and stand, grabbing a blueberry muffin.
Reid stares at me in that weird, calculating way he often does, and I lift my head high as I flee the kitchen.
The pile of shoes by the front door is nice and orderly, which is becoming more commonplace now that Reid lives with us.
Dante used to be the one who picked up after all of us, but these days it seems Reid helps just as much.
I shove my feet into my shoes, grab my hoodie, and prepare myself to freeze outside. Could I drive to campus? Yes. But I’d spend more time trying to find a parking spot than it would take me to walk to class.
Once I’ve popped my headphones in and turned on my angry roid music, as Jacob calls it, I step out into the freezing January air.
The sun warms the air up some, but small piles of snow still crowd the steps of the brownstones that line the short walk to campus.
Out of habit, I stop in front of Mason’s house.
Something about him intrigues me. He’d been an anxious pile of worry through Reid’s entire kidnapping, but he’d not once hesitated when he’d needed to donate blood to his brother.
I get it. If Jacob needed an organ, I’d give it to him without question. That’s what brothers do.
Movement in the second-floor window catches my eye.
Mason talks hurriedly into a cell phone, back painfully straight.
His shoulders are hunched up to his ears, every muscle in his body poised for attack.
I watch him argue over the phone for a minute before he gives up with a defeated-looking sigh.
His fingers rub his temples as he slowly turns around to look out the window.
Being caught should make me feel embarrassed, but oddly, I don’t.
Instead, I lift my hand and wave at him.
Mason waves back, but he looks almost confused at himself for doing it.
He promptly disappears from the window, only to reappear at the front door.
Somehow, even dressed in dress slacks and a button-down, Mason looks effortlessly soft.
His perfectly styled auburn hair and slight smatter of freckles adds to the softness somehow.
A small smile tugs at his lips at the sight of me, blooms of red on both cheeks.
“Hi,” Mason says breathlessly. He dips to look around me. “Reid’s not with you?”
“Sorry to disappoint, it’s just me.”
Mason shakes his head. “No, not disappointed. Just surprised. Would you like some coffee? I just made a pot an hour ago, so it’s still hot. Unless…” Mason’s eyebrows furrow as if he’s embarrassed. “You’re on your way to class, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I have time.” I nod toward his door, silently telling him to head back inside. Mason’s smile is big and breathtaking, making my stomach clench with something I don’t recognize.
I slip my shoes off by the front door and follow Mason into the sweet-smelling kitchen.
Without really meaning to, I go to the sink and wash my hands.
After a few days in each other’s pockets during Reid’s and Dante’s hospital stay, it was easy to pick up on Mason’s fear of germs. When I finish washing my hands and glance back at Mason, he’s blushing furiously and steadfastly avoiding my gaze now.
“Coffee?” he asks, gaze firmly planted on his socked feet.
“Yes, please.”
Mason waves his hand at the table for me to sit down. I watch him move around the kitchen with ease, lifting up onto his tiptoes slightly to grab a black mug. His auburn hair glows when the sun hits it just right, like rubies on display.
“Cream, no sugar, right?” he asks softly, voice timid.
He remembered. “Yes, thank you.”
Mason joins me at the table, black coffee for himself, and places the extra mug in front of me. There’s a tremble to his fingers that I ignore for both of our sakes. The television is on in the living room, set to some channel that’s angrily discussing the state of the perpetually bad economy.
Mason sips his coffee while eyeing me over the mug, a blush still high on his cheeks. “What class are you on your way to this morning?”
“I have a lecture about science fiction, and after that is gothic literature.”
“Oh, you’re in your last semester, right? Fun classes saved for last.”
I chuckle. “I was lucky to get into the sci-fi lecture. It fills up so fast, it felt like trying to get Taylor Swift tickets.”
Mason winces in sympathy. “That’s the nice thing about doing your degree mostly online like I did, not much competition for classes.”
“Why’d you get an online degree?”
“Needed to take care of Reid. I just graduated last year.”
“What’s your degree in?”
“Political science… Thought one day I’d go into politics.”
“Not anymore?”
Mason shakes his head firmly, which he does quite often.
At least in my presence. My phone buzzes to indicate class will be starting in fifteen minutes, breaking the moment.
Shit, it’s at least a ten-minute walk. I gulp down the rest of my coffee and stand quickly, sending an apologetic smile to Mason.
“Gotta get to class. Maybe… I could stop by tomorrow too? I can bring coffee?”
“Oh no,” Mason rushes, furious blush returning. “I like to make my own coffee. I have different flavored beans… Do you like caramel?”
My smile actually hurts to contain. “I love caramel.”
Mason’s answering grin could rival Christmas morning.
I back away toward the door, grinning at him, not turning around until the last moment.
It’s cold outside still, and I don’t know why I expected it to warm up after only a few minutes inside with Mason.
I end up jogging the rest of the way to class to make sure I’m there early enough to grab a seat toward the front.
The jerks who are taking this course for an easy A can sit in the back, but I want to take notes and get the most out of the class.
College never seemed like much of an option unless I got a million scholarships, but when Mom died, Jacob and I were pleasantly surprised she’d somehow managed a life insurance policy for both of us.
Having that money, combined with the stipend from Robin, plus paid living expenses, means college isn’t the noose around my neck I’d once thought it would be.
Going on for my master’s might be a little more difficult, but I’ll make do. I always do.
Jacob’s waiting outside for me after class, per usual.
We’re fraternal twins, so it’s never felt like looking in a mirror.
Jacob’s eyes are a softer shade of green, and he spends more time in the gym, so his shoulders are broader, muscles bigger.
I’m built like a swimmer, where Jacob is built like a quarterback.
But when someone looks at us, it’s probably difficult to tell us apart, unless they know us.
I have three moles on my abdomen, whereas Jacob has none.
Also, I wasn’t sure Jacob could read until the past few years, so there’s that.
“I gotta go to the store on the way home,” Jacob complains without any real bite.
“Dante said we could figure ourselves out.” Jacob puts very obnoxious air quotes around his words.
I think we’d all gotten used to the status quo of Dante being the house den mom in a lot of ways, but lately Dante—or maybe it’s Reid’s influence—has been putting a little bit more effort into making us all grow up.
It’s just easier to let Dante do our laundry and clean the house, not because we take him for granted, but because we all know it’s one of the few ways he shows his love.
He might stop going to the store, but he still does everything else, even if Reid wants to put a stop to it.
“I’m going to make pork tenderloin,” Jacob says.
“Fancy. With mashed potatoes?”
“No, roasted potatoes, the little fingerling ones because Hayden will eat those.”
I hum in acceptance. “He’s pickier than a toddler.”
Jacob shrugs. “He likes starches, comfort foods.”
“Are there still brownies from last night?”
“Yes,” Jacob says, nose wrinkling in annoyance. “Unless Reid pilfered them all while we were in class.”
“You know Dante hides food over the fridge, right?”
Jacob pauses on the sidewalk, eyes wide with rage. “What?”
“Yeah, same. He hides the sour cream and onion chips over the fridge.”