2. Vani
2
VANI
“ F ucking hell, Vani.” Saint folds his arms across his chest. “You really did a number on his car.” He seems a little in awe of it, and yet again, he’s showing his screwed up morals, and that they don’t only apply to him.
We’re standing in front of Lex’s car, and Zane’s and Saint’s eyes are wide at the damage. The grooves to the paintwork, which I did with a garden fork one of the groundkeepers had left beside a bush, and the milk-covered interior.
The rain has eased off now—the downpour was heavy but short lived—and the storm seems to be passing too. Someone has shut off the sirens that alerted us to the breach in security, but I don’t know what action has been taken. I assume we’re going to have to speak to Nataniele or Domenic at some point soon, or just as soon as we figure out what our next move is. They might know something we don’t.
I feel horribly guilty about the mess. The car will be ruined by that rancid milk smell. I’d wanted to pay them back, to show them I wasn’t someone to be messed with, but perhaps I went overboard?
“Yeah, I know.” I’m still not going to apologize. I need them to get down on their knees and beg for forgiveness for what they did to me before that happens.
“There’s no sign of him here,” Saint says. “And he clearly hasn’t left in his car—not that it’s in much of a state to drive.”
He shoots me a look, but there’s still that hint of admiration in his eyes.
I spot something on the back seat and reach in to pick it up. “It’s a box of baking soda,” I say in confusion.
Saint takes the box from me and turns it back and forth, as though hoping it will provide answers. “Empty. He must have used it all on the upholstery.”
Which means he was here, Zane types on his cell.
“Yes, he was,” I agree. “Also, did you notice how the back door was standing wide open? If he was here trying to save his upholstery, why the hell would he then leave the back door open for the rain to get in?”
Feet crunch on gravel behind us.
“Hey, are you looking for your brother?”
I only vaguely recognize the guy speaking. He’s some kid that I’ve seen around a few times but not part of any group I’ve ever spoken with.
“Yeah,” Saint says. “You seen him?”
The guy nods, his expression serious. “He’s the reason the sirens went off. I saw some guys in suits throwing him in the back of a car and driving off.”
Fear condenses like ice inside me. Someone has taken Lex, and I’m pretty sure we know who. It can’t just be a coincidence that I’ve been talking to Jarl Olsen. What if Lex has been hurt, and it’s all my fault? What if he dies? The thought of Saint living without his twin, and us without Lex, is unbearable. I hate him, but I care about him, too, so I guess that means my moral compass is as off kilter as Saint’s.
“How the fuck did a vehicle get past security without being noticed?” Saint snarls, his fists clenching.
“It didn’t,” I point out, “or we wouldn’t have heard the sirens.”
“How long ago was this?” Saint asks the kid.
“Not long. Thirty minutes or so. Right before the sirens went off.” The guy scuffs his foot in the gravel.
“Have you told anyone else about this?” I demand.
He shakes his head. “No. I know you guys are like … well … sort of … you do your own thing. I thought I’d find you first and tell you.”
“You did good,” Saint says, his voice barely controlled. “But you can’t tell a soul. If we find out you have, Zane here will play punch bag with you. Got it?”
The kid holds his hands up. “Hey, I just came to do you a favor. I won’t say anything.” Then he adds, “Good luck finding him.”
Saint looks like he’s about to punch the poor guy just for existing at those words. He must realize this, as he quickly makes his excuses and scurries off.
“So, Jarl Olsen has taken Lex,” I say. “Why? What does he want?
Punishment, Zane types. If he believes that me, Saint, and Lex are responsible for his daughter’s death, I’m guessing he wants payback.
“But why now?” I ask. “She’s been dead for more than a year.” Both heads swivel in my direction, and I widen my eyes. “I didn’t do or say anything. I swear!”
But I’m doubting myself. Did I say something that instigated this? Was it just that finding out about my existence prompted Jarl Olsen into taking action?
“Shit,” I say. “How much distance could they have traveled by now?”
Saint blows out a breath. “Not far. Jarl Olsen must be staying somewhere nearby. If he’s been moving between wherever he’s been staying and the college.”
Zane types furiously on his cell. There’s no way we’re going to find out. It’s impossible. He could be anywhere.
I think of something. “We can contact him. Angelica was able to. That’s why he came here in the first place.”
Saint scowls. “Angelica is nothing but trouble.”
“That’s not true. She and the others have been the closest thing I’ve had to friends since I arrived. She might not always make the best decisions, but that doesn’t mean her heart isn’t in the right place.”
“You think she’s going to contact Jarl for us and ask for Lex back?”
I hesitate. “Well, I don’t want her to get in trouble with Jarl, but I think she can pass on the number so we can ask for Lex back. Maybe if I speak to Jarl and explain…”
Zane makes a strange snorting noise.
Saint nods at him in agreement. “Jarl isn’t the kind of man who sits back and listens to explanations.”
“No, but if I’m the one he’s trying to protect…”
I’m grasping at straws. I don’t even know that he is trying to protect me. He’s more likely to have used my existence as an excuse to finally take revenge on the men he thinks are responsible for his daughter’s death.
“Didn’t he have some kind of agreement with Nataniele to stay away?” I say. “He’s broken that agreement now. We could go to him for help?”
“Jarl is not just going to let Lex go because Nataniele tells him to,” Saint says. “Plus, I don’t trust him on this. On anything. This place is a nest of vipers,” he says with a smirk. “Literally. Nataniele isn’t our friend or even our protector, or at least not beyond the bare minimum of keeping us alive. The fights he allows prove that much. When your sister died, Nataniele acted in his best interests. Not hers. He paid Jarl off and shut down all conversation about it. It was the college he wanted to protect, not us.”
Zane nods as Saint glances his way.
“He never did anything to quash those rumors, so I guess I don’t trust him. At all.”
I understand that, but still, right now, he might be our only hope.
Then I think of something Jarl mentioned during our conversation. “There is something I might be able to use as a reason to speak to Jarl. I don't know if it's enough, but at least it's something, and right now it's the only kind of leverage we've got.” They both look at me expectantly, and I take a breath and keep going. “When I had that meeting with Jarl, he told me that my mother had taken something from him all those years ago. It has sentimental value rather than being something that's worth a lot. I told him I didn't know anything about it, but I was lying. The item he wants is a gold cross on a chain. I recognized it because it's the same one my father has been wearing for as long as I can remember. I think my mother must have given it to him as a gift, though I'm not sure why. I'm starting to think there's a lot about my mother that I didn't know.”
A painful lump forms in my throat, and my vision blurs with tears. I swipe at my cheek as one escapes and rolls down my skin. I'm not just crying for my mom. I'm crying for everything that's happened, Reagan, and Lex now being in trouble. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets worse than hurt? I’ll never forgive myself. I might not have meant to get him in trouble, but just by being here, I’ve given Jarl Olsen a reason to come into their lives.
The twins might be utter assholes, and Zane might be so screwed up it hurts, but I can’t lie that they make me feel alive. I might spend my time fighting between wanting to kill them or fuck them, but they make the world a whole lot more interesting.
I'm torn up inside. This whole time I've sworn that I wouldn't get my father involved. I wanted to do everything I could to avoid there being a war between my father and Jarl. I'd believed it was what my mother wanted as well. But now I know about the necklace, I'm also doubting her motives. Was she even the same woman I'd thought I'd known all these years? I’m not sure anymore.
That cross is still around my dad's neck, as far as I’m aware. It's not as though I can somehow sneak it off him to use as bargaining power against Jarl—my dad will notice if I try to take it off him, and he'll want to know why I want it. What possible reason can I give him other than the truth? I could say I wanted it for me, but my father is an astute man. He’s not going to buy that I suddenly want his cross when I haven’t mentioned it before. My stomach churns at the thought, but I can't see any other way than coming clean. Having that cross in my possession will at least mean I'll have a reason to speak to Jarl—a reason to meet him and for him to want to meet me.
“I have to go back to the club,” I announce. “I have to see my dad and try to get that cross back, so we have something to use as leverage against Jarl.” I sigh. “My dad is going to be pissed. I’m not sure if he’ll let me have it, but I must try.”
You’re not going alone , Zane types.
Saint lifts his chin defiantly. “Definitely not. We’ll come with you.”
I gulp at the thought. I picture myself walking back into my dad’s clubhouse, with Saint flanking me on one side and Zane on the other. My dad still thinks I’m some innocent, untouched princess, and seeing those two with me is going to make him rethink that pretty damned fast.
I wonder if I might be better going alone, but I know the chances of either of the guys agreeing to that are slim to none. The last time I left the college, alone, I ended up crashed on the side of the road and then abducted by the freaky Preachers.
Something else occurs to me. “Someone should stay here in case there’s any news on Lex, or if he manages to get away and comes back here. Plus, it’s a five-hour or so drive each way, and we need someone here looking into things as much as they can while the other two are traveling.”
“He’s my brother,” Saint says immediately, “so I should be the one coming with you.”
I shake my head. “All the more reason for you to be the one who stays here. This is the only place Jarl Olsen knows to make contact, and if he’s going to contact anyone, it’s going to be you. Besides, like I said, if Lex manages to escape and comes back, he might need you.”
Saint’s lips pinch and he shakes his head. “No.”
Zane punches himself in the chest and then points at the same spot. He doesn’t need to speak to make himself clear. He should be the one who comes.
I picture us walking into the clubhouse and imagine what my father’s men would make of Saint. They’d hate him on sight. Zane would definitely fit in with them better. They’d be more likely to take Zane seriously, though I don’t say that to Saint. They might have warned Zane off, but he still is more their kind of guy than Saint.
I hold Saint’s gaze. “It should be Zane.” I sigh at the hurt in his eyes. “You can’t be away from here for what … twelve hours plus. We might need to stay overnight. The journey both ways is long, and I can’t see my father letting me turn around and go straight back after all that time on the road. Can we really risk all three of us being away from the college for the rest of today, tonight and half of tomorrow? Plus, if you’re five hours away, and we find out where he is, and it’s near here, you’ll go crazy.”
His shoulders drop, as does his line of sight. “Yeah, okay. I’ll sit around here with my hands in my fucking pants waiting for news.”
I take his hand and tug him a little closer. “Thank you, Saint. You’ll see it’s for the best. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if Lex came back while we were gone and needed you. I promise we’ll keep you informed of everything we find out.”
His lips quirk in a half smile, and I stand on tiptoes and kiss him, careful of his split lip. “We’ll get your brother back.”