2. Dan #2
Daniel Hoyton, aka Dan, nicknamed “Arson” by his friends.
He was tall—probably now around the same height as me after his recent growth spurt, with annoyingly defined muscles, and he stood out in a crowd, thanks to his tousled red hair and his striking, bright blue eyes.
Eyes fringed with impossibly dark lashes—a deep brown tipped with burnished gold, a colour I’d never seen on anyone else and hoped to never see again after tonight.
I just needed to find him, deliver the message from my uncle, and then I could get out of here.
Luck—good or bad, depending on one’s viewpoint—was on my side. As I rounded the corner of the outdoor terrace, I found the very person I was here to unwillingly seek out. “Fancy seeing you here,” I drawled, and Daniel spun to face me, yanking his mask off his head. He bared his teeth in a snarl.
“What the hell are you doing here? Fucking leave now before I make you leave.”
My brows lifted as my mouth curved into a mocking smirk. “Ah. You’re just as much of a dickhead as I remember.” His blue eyes darkened with anger, and my smirk widened into a grin.
“Takes one to know one, wanker,” he spat. “And what the hell is all this shit about you joining Whelford’s ice hockey team? You play lacrosse.”
“You keeping tabs on me, Hoyton? What can I say? My stick-handling skills are unparalleled.”
“Fuck off. Now,” he warned. “Before I break your fucking fingers so you can’t even pick up a stick.”
He really needed to work on his threats. Was that supposed to scare me? “Looking forward to using our rink for training?” I said, completely ignoring his words.
“You absolute—” A distant shout came from my right, cutting off his tirade, and he acted instantly, grabbing my arm and dragging me around the corner of the manor into the shadows, out of sight of the brightly lit courtyard.
“Seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? There’s a time and a place to mess with me, and this is not it.
Do you know how many people here want your head? ”
My false humour died away, and I growled under my breath.
He wasn’t wrong. Yes, we’d been invited by the Thorpes, but I knew from my uncle’s intel that Daniel’s uncle, mother, and cousin were all in attendance.
“I know. I’m not here by fucking choice, idiot.
I came to deliver a message from my uncle.
Make sure your uncle gets it.” Shoving a folded piece of paper at his chest, I stepped back, melting into the shadows.
The rough stone was cool at my back as I took deep, deliberate breaths, trying to slow my heart rate.
Eventually, it was back under control, and I became aware of the noise of the party spilling from the doors and windows.
I needed to leave. I’d done what I came to do.
I had no idea what had been on that piece of paper and no interest in finding out.
It was destined for the head of the Hoyton Firm, which meant it was dangerous.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I sent a text to my uncle.
Me:
In enemy territory. I delivered the message. Can you get me?
Mike:
On my way. Be there in ten.
I exhaled an unsteady breath. Ten minutes was forever when I was right in the middle of enemy territory, hanging around Thorpe Manor as if I were one of the underworld’s sycophants.
“You’re still here? Want me to chase you through the woods? I was reconsidering getting involved in the hunt, but if you wanna play…”
My jaw clenched as I spun to face Daniel. What was he doing back here? Hadn’t he had enough of being in my presence, like I had being in his? “I have no interest in your immature little games.”
“Why? Don’t you play games at your fancy boarding school? I’ve heard the rumours about the shit that goes on in the crypts, so don’t act as if you’re all fucking high and mighty.”
“Fuck off.”
“Please do,” he said. Tapping his mask against the wall, he tilted his head, studying me with his piercing gaze. I held it, refusing to be the first to look away.
It had been months since I’d seen him in person, and I’d somehow forgotten how stubborn he was. I moved closer in an attempt to get him to back down, but the second my chest brushed against his, his fisted hand flew up between us. Metal gleamed in the dim light.
He had a knuckleduster.
I swallowed hard. “That’s illegal,” I rasped. “You could be looking at six months’ imprisonment. Four years if you’re gonna take it anywhere public.”
His lips kicked up at the corners as if I’d said something amusing. I hated the way he managed to turn the tables on me. “No shit. Did you forget I’m a criminal? No one’s gonna imprison me for this, anyway. I’m irrelevant.”
“You’re not fucking irrelevant,” I bit out without thinking, then immediately wished I could choke back the words.
“I am when it comes to the law,” he drawled lazily. “But it’s nice to know you care about my chances of being locked up.”
“I don’t give a shit. I hope it happens.”
“Do you?” His clenched hand landed on my shoulder, the knuckleduster a solid weight through the fabric of my jacket, and I froze at the sudden contact.
“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” I warned him as he dragged his fist across my collarbone.
“No?” Cold metal pressed against my throat. “Wanna find out? Or would you prefer my knife?”
“I’d prefer you to leave me the fuck alone. If I hadn’t been coerced into this favour—”
“A favour you’ve already done,” he interrupted. “Now, get the fuck off Thorpe property before I use this.” Pressing harder, he leaned into me. I pushed back against him for a second and then suddenly jerked away, making him stumble.
A string of swear words fell from his lips, but I didn’t stick around to hear them.
Turning on my heel, I ducked around the side of the building and melted into the shadows.
Keeping to the cover of darkness, I made my way towards the tall, foreboding entry gates and out onto the road.
Waiting on a dark, deserted country lane was better than this.
Honestly, it didn’t matter where I waited. As long as it was far away from Daniel Hoyton.