Chapter 50
50
Sonny
T he dark, cloudless night sky fights against the light of the sun pushing its way into the horizon in a line of brilliant, bright orange over the black ocean. The mountains sit behind us in cool silhouettes, waiting to be kissed by the sun’s warmth once again.
Raze tried to slip from the bed unnoticed and sneak away once everyone else was asleep. We had a long night of planning, ironing out all the small details of our plans.
After the most blissful day holed up in his room—we hit a new personal record of seventeen orgasms in one day and then promptly fell into a dreamless coma. We woke yesterday morning to find that the Midnight Syndicate had finally done the unforgivable and signaled the beginning of the fight.
They’ve strung a line of ten rebellion members they ripped from their homes in the town’s square. A thick, wooden beam was run from one corner to the other, then they strapped ropes around their necks and let them go. The lifeless bodies still hang there as a warning to all who dare side with the rebellion.
We have no clue how they knew they were a part of our movement. My parents admitted they were waiting for the Supremes to do something , but they never could have imagined it would be this bad.
It’s archaic and morbid and cruel. Raze and my parents have been irritable all day over it, snapping at anyone who irritates them the smallest bit. They feel personally responsible for the lives that were taken. Ava is in complete shock. With her intimate knowledge of historical events that follow this pattern, she’s terrified of what comes next.
Uncle Graysen and Aunt Divina came knocking on our door around noon, surprising the hell out of me. Of course, my mother and father welcomed their old co-conspirators with open arms. I kept my distance to avoid an argument. But I made sure I was around to hear how Divina slipped away from the Midnight Syndicate without their knowledge to fight on our behalf.
There will be a time to iron out those family issues when we win this fight.
They’ve sent the message to the rest of the rebellion that we’ll be retrieving our fallen members tomorrow morning, and to prepare for the worst.
This years-long war has come to a head—our soldiers are as prepared as they can be. Tomorrow, we’ll fight.
Raze realized I was following him almost immediately after the garage door closed and the cool air filled my lungs. Probably sooner, if I know him at all. Instead of sending me back into the house, he surprised me by insisting I hike the rest of the mountain alongside him.
“You know you shouldn’t be out here,” he insists when I struggle to explain why I came after him in the first place.
“I don’t care,” I admit unapologetically.
I’m so tired of being trapped. I’m done being told what to do and where to be and how to feel. If today goes sideways and it’s my final day on this planet, I want to spend it with free will. At least, before I have to put a brave face on and help lead a rebellion attack.
“Then, it’s settled. You’re coming with me.” He turns away and begins trudging along an unbeaten path without looking back.
We continue in silence for twenty minutes, dodging branches and sticks and rocks, before shoving through thick brush that randomly spits us out directly onto the beach. I’ll never understand how he knows these woods so well. I suppose after a lifetime in them, he was bound to memorize something.
He walks ahead, his boots forming craters in the sand, sets his pack down, and pulls a large towel out of it and lays it down.
“Have a seat,” he instructs, tapping the empty spot once he falls onto the fabric.
“You chose to forgo sleep so you could come sit on the beach?” I question him, raising a brow.
He leans back on his hands and bends his knees, eyes cast out toward the ocean. “Have you ever seen a sunrise over Nocturne Valley?”
I shake my head, my legs wobbling a bit. I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours and the exhaustion is finally catching up to me, especially after how much energy we spent together the day before. But I still find the strength to follow his path through the sand. Lowering myself beside him, I allow myself to take in the scene before us.
“It’s a crime they don’t allow students on the beach anymore,” he grumbles. “There was no real reason behind the rule, except that they might run into some locals...”
His sentence dies off as he loses himself in thought. It’s so unlike him, I have to turn and make sure he hasn’t randomly fallen asleep or something.
But when I get a good look at his face, it hits me why he stopped. That’s what happened to him on the day his brother died. They ran into my mom and Divina.
Who would have ever guessed that fateful day would lead us to this moment?
“Are you ready for tomorrow?” I ask him, twisting my lips to the side before I quietly correct, “Or rather, today.”
He turns toward me and raises a brow. “I’ve been dealing with these monsters for most of my life. Are you ready?”
“No,” I answer honestly.
“They’re insignificant. Soulless meat suits wandering around, searching for victims to siphon energy from,” he bites out.
“That’s a comforting thought,” I hum sarcastically. “If you think that, then why are you a part of it?”
“ Were ,” he corrects.
“What?”
“I’m no longer a part of the Midnight Syndicate.”
“Oh, right.”
There’s a pause as he gazes out at the ocean. “My participation in their devilish cult was fully against my will.”
“Because of what happened,” I supply, my heart squeezing a little when he tucks his chin into his chest in confirmation.
“I saw the memory in the woods...” I admit. The confession feels like a weight being lifted from my chest. I realize that we haven’t talked about this yet. Not without throwing around accusations or excuses. I’ve been making a conscious effort to heal from it, but that day was pivotal for us. It should be spoken about.
“I know.”
Puffing out my cheeks, I blink at him. “You were so young and scared. And Divina...What was she thinking?”
“She was young and scared, too,” he dismisses, stiffly shaking his head. I frown, my eyes roaming over his features to figure out why he’s making excuses for her when it’s abundantly clear that he hates her, too.
She’s the sole reason he joined the Midnight Syndicate to begin with.
Instead of pressing him, I gesture toward the tattoos snaking down his arms. “That’s what the waves are for.”
Nodding, he drops his gaze toward his hands. “Just a stupid, impulsive gesture. Bane shouldn’t have been the one to die that day. For years, I wanted so badly to switch places.”
“So, you covered yourself with what killed him . . . ”
My heart aches at the poetry of it.
“I thought maybe if I could cover myself with enough waves, they’d consume me too.”
My voice softens. “That’s not fair. Bane shouldn’t have died, but you deserve to live just as much.”
“I know that now. I spent so many years wanting to be...not here .” He puffs out a humorless laugh. “How ironic is that? The man who takes lives for a living couldn’t end the one that deserved it most.”
“Don’t say that.”
He shoots me a doubtful look. “You can’t tell me you disagree. Your life would be exponentially better if I didn’t stick around as the Syndicate’s puppet.”
Pursing my lips, I gaze out at the landscape before us. He’s right. It’s a tragedy they don’t allow students to see this. In the few months I spent at Ravenshurst and the weeks buried in that mountain, I never realized how breathtaking the view is.
“My parents would have gotten themselves wrapped up in all of this either way,” I finally say. “They were playing a dangerous game. And it could be argued that you’ve saved more lives than you’ve taken.”
“Don’t do that.”
His serious tone has me whipping my head to face him again. “What?”
“Don’t try to make me out to be some bleeding heart. I’m still a murderer.” It’s jarring how easily he admits to his crimes.
I look down at the grains of sand falling from my palms, shaking my head. “Morality isn’t always black and white.”
“I can assure you, it is,” he insists.
“So, you don’t think I should forgive you?”
“No, I don’t. I hope you will, but that doesn’t mean you should. You deserve so much better than me. Wanting you is selfish, but I’ve never claimed to be a good person.”
“I supposed that’s for me to decide on my own.”
Haven’t I already, though? No matter how hard I try to fight it, I always end up back in his arms.
In his bed.
“I suppose it is.” He rests his chin on his shoulder, that annoying smirk playing across his lips once again, as if he knows I’ll end up choosing in his favor.
“I’m glad you stayed,” I admit in a near-whisper.
“Me too.”
We remain like that for a weighted minute, simply gazing into each other’s eyes. I could fall for this man. It would be so easy, despite everything that’s happened. No, because of everything that has happened. I already have. And if I’m being honest, I’d say he’s fallen for me, too.
“The bug is for Bane too, right?” I ask, pulling him from his trance. A line forms between his brows, signaling his confusion, so I move my hand between us and press on his chest, where I know the tattoo is.
“Yes.” The word vibrates against my palm.
“When he visited me in the cabin, he was playing with one of those.” I picture him standing beside my bed that night, offering me comfort I didn’t realize I needed.
“They were his favorite. He had some theory about how they got here. He claimed they came over with the Landrys and were forced to adapt to this climate.”
I purse my lips, not missing the hidden meaning behind that. “He told me he talks to you all the time.”
Raze hangs his head between his shoulders. “That’s the last thing I want to hear.”
“Why?”
“Would you want him to see what I’ve done to survive?” he questions, his voice raising an octave.
“He doesn’t judge you like that,” I insist. From what I’ve witnessed, Bane wholly accepts Raze for exactly who he is.
“How could he not?”
Shaking my head, I try to find a way to describe it to him so he’ll understand. But all I can manage to get out is, “He loves you, Raze.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he scoffs.
I reach into the space between us to brush his wild hair off his forehead. “Well, you’ll just have to take my word for it for now.” At least, until Bane makes a reappearance and I can confirm with him.
It’s clear, based on his pinched expression, that he wants to disagree with me. Instead, he releases me from his withering stare and twists his head to face the ocean again. I watch as he seems to drink in the sight one last time, then lifts himself back into a standing position.
“We should head back and get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a lot,” he declares, already grabbing up the towel before I’ve fully rolled off of it.
There’s so much I need to say to him that I can’t find the courage to voice. For all his declarations and admissions, I’ve been silent in my one. But I’m too much of a coward to take the opportunity now, and he’s not in a mood to hear it, so I tuck them away and promise myself that there will be a chance to let everything out once we win this war.