16 | Nate
Nate
It has been almost two hours since we returned to the house. Mike is standing at the top of the basement staircase, watching the poor woman we have down there.
She just sits there. No sound. No objections.
Her hands are still tied together, but she seems to have come to terms with the situation.
She didn’t try to leave when we arrived at the house, even though she had a solid chance for at least three whole minutes while we argued over where she should stay.
Instead, she followed Liam to the basement willingly.
And stayed there, quiet, waiting. She hasn’t made a single sound since we arrived. Almost as if she isn’t there at all.
I am standing next to Liam, on the other end of the hallway leading to the basement door. We are both trying to keep our distance from a very deranged Mike, who’s talking to himself.
I am observing my man as he clearly loses his mind.
The fact that I can’t do anything to prevent it eats me alive.
Especially when I am part of the reason he is currently on the edge of insanity—more than normal, that is.
He doesn't know what is happening, completely ignorant of the reason we stopped the hunt. Because how do you tell a man that the woman who ruined his childhood wasn’t even his biological mother?
And on top of that, the woman he just tried to murder is his biological mother?
I don’t think, "Hey, Mike. So, remember the woman you killed when you were ten in that car accident you caused? Turns out she wasn’t your actual mother, but don’t worry, because you seem to have found the right one this time," will go over well.
He is either going to think I am crazy, or he will go crazy—both of which are equally bad.
First of all, I am the only sane one left in this group, so I should somehow remain the logical mind in this situation. Second, he doesn’t have much farther into the loopy-loop of insanity to go. He is already deep in it. He is the king of psycholand.
“We need to tell him,” Liam mentions casually.
As if that’s the easy part of our problems piling up by the minute.
I know we need to; I am not that delusional.
The problem is that I have no clue how or even what to tell him.
I don’t seem to have any words that will help in this situation.
How do you tell a guy who killed his entire family that it wasn’t his family to begin with? I wonder.
Besides, I would very much prefer to have some type of evidence to back up my claim. Evidence that doesn’t include, "Mary said so."
My phone’s vibration snaps me out of that thought, and I see an email I just received.
It's the background check for Mary. Liam did an excellent job when we thought she was just another victim of ours, but we needed a professional to look into her this time. Because she is no longer just another victim. And Liam, even though capable, isn’t a professional.
So, I pulled out the big guns: my cousin Jax.
My parents always tried to keep me away from my Greek cousins.
Mainly because there were rumors in the family that they were both involved in shady things, even as teens.
We knew they left Greece in a hurry, and as a family, we were closer to my father’s Italian side than my mother’s Greek side.
So, we didn’t question it much. Our mothers weren’t close, and when you are not in touch with your own relatives, some things get lost through the rumor mill of family gatherings.
It wasn’t until a year ago that I finally reconnected with them while passing through their town with the guys.
Then everything suddenly made sense. Since then, we have used Jax’s investigative skills a few times, and in combination with Liam’s hacking skills, those two can find anything.
But right now, having Liam work on this wouldn’t go well, so Jax had to carry the load on his own.
From how detailed this email is, I can say with no doubt he did a great job.
I read through the email, taking in the pile of evidence Jax has gathered in the short time I allowed him.
Her story is a sad one, and I am not sure if that makes it any better, but at least it makes my heart feel for her a little.
Which, again, I am not sure is any better.
I can only hope the chaos twins will have a similar reaction—maybe spare a life just once.
But in reality, I know that hope is doomed.
Liam, of course, has never been someone I had to worry about ending a life.
And he isn’t this time, either. The guy hasn’t even killed once during the hunts.
His brother, on the other hand, is definitely the one I need to worry about.
Because my boyfriend is bloodthirsty on a good day, I don’t want to know what dumping all this information on him will do to his brain.
He might even try to kill me instead of the woman, which—let’s face it—might be a better scenario than going into full mass-murder mode and killing the entire town.
And let me tell you, with this man's history, I find that a very possible scenario.
The irony of my nickname for them isn’t lost on me.
I have been calling them the "chaos twins" since I met them. They were always dressed similarly, and still are. The only difference between the two is the blond curls on Mike’s head. They have the same features and the same eyes. Even their ink is similar, mirroring each other in design. Liam’s is full of color, while Mike has chosen the blackout version of the exact same tattoos for himself.
If I am being honest, I am surprised we haven’t thought about the possibility of them being brothers instead of cousins through the years.
Their family was complicated enough; this isn’t even that far-fetched to begin with.
We should have at least entertained the possibility.
Although I guess with all the drama in their family, it does make sense that we never looked into it.
Both men tried to forget everything about their past after the fire, and I didn’t want to remind them of it, so I made sure to never ask.
That kind of made it easy to ignore obvious things, like how much they looked alike.
In a sense, they felt like brothers to me. Even though I know how twisted that sounds—when I am, most days, balls deep in one of them—from everything we have done in our lifetime, this is not the weirdest thing. It’s definitely not a normal thought, either. But who cares? I am not normal anyway.
I love them like family, and on paper, we are family as much as we are at heart.
Those guys were my salvation when I was lost in depression, back when I used to reject every good thing I had out of fear of losing it.
I had everything, and truly had no reason to be how I was.
I guess even rich boys can be the black sheep—maybe as a reaction, maybe out of boredom.
It took seeing all the pain those two men went through to realize I had it easy.
Sometimes you need to step out of your little bubble and try to help someone else to realize your pain, in comparison, was only a pebble.
I show Liam my phone when I’m finally done reading through Jax’s report.
He takes it from my hand, scanning what we just got.
I can see his lip twitch and his frustration grow.
He takes a deep breath before handing the phone back to me.
I notice his other hand gripping his knife, his knuckles turning white.
“You asked Jax to look into her?” He asks, keeping his voice low.
“We needed more information about her, and you weren’t exactly in the right state of mind for the job, Liam,” I explain.
“I know. But... Jax?” He doesn’t make an effort to hide how much he despises my cousin.
Mike immediately liked Ajax, but Liam seemed to find a friend in his older brother instead.
In a way, I understand why. You see, Jax and Mike are very similar, while Liam is very similar to Xander.
While the first two are impulsive and love to kill a little too much, the other two are only violent when it’s necessary.
They will do everything to protect their own, but if they could choose another path in life, they would.
Before I can make up an excuse for why I chose to assign this to my own family instead of hiring someone, Liam turns his back on me and starts walking fast toward the basement.
For a moment, it’s almost as if I am seeing another version of Mike.
I don’t know if he is going to kill the woman or what, but I follow in silence.
Because let’s be honest: this isn’t my business, as I keep reminding myself.
When I reach the door, I stand beside Mike, who’s as confused as I am.
We watch from the top of the stairs as Liam goes down into the basement.
We both watch in silence, almost without breathing, as he walks over to Mary.
Her eyes meet his, and fear flashes in them.
She is visibly afraid when his hand reaches for her hair—it might be the first time I've seen fear in her. This woman seems to truly be unaffected by any of this, yet Liam appearing with a knife in front of her somehow seems more dangerous than throwing her into a maze and telling her to run for her life. She screamed and ran, sure, but I don’t think she was truly scared.
He strokes her cheek with a look almost like compassion in his eyes, then grabs one of her dark locks and cuts it off.
Before she can react, he turns his back on her and climbs the steps the same way he came down.
“Out!” He barks the order, and this is so unlike Liam that we are both stunned, looking at him. We are forced to take a step back at the same time when he exits the basement, locking the door behind him.
He grabs me by my shirt and pulls me to follow him, and I do—because, again, this is not a look I am used to seeing on Liam.
I am not the one to make the situation worse when the man is already out of his damn mind.
I am honestly scared not to follow him at this point.
We reach the living room, far away from Mike, who is still standing in front of the basement door with a puzzled look on his face.
Liam puts the piece of hair in my hand, then grabs one of his own curls and cuts it off with his knife. He places it in my other hand.
“Order a DNA test!” Another command, and he walks away. No more words, not even a goodbye.
Shit! Okay, I guess I should do that then.
They complain that I am the bossy one, but I am starting to think I am the least dangerous of the group.
The chaos twins are truly living up to their name right now.
One of them is a psychotic serial killer—okay, I am too—and the other one is barking orders and thinking of things I should have.
I was so busy worrying about them that the thought of running a DNA test didn't even cross my mind.
I go to my room and grab two small envelopes, putting the first lock of hair in one and filling the other with the second.
I label them with their names. Then I take a large envelope, put the small ones inside, and write a letter with instructions on what to do.
I address the big envelope to one of our lawyers.
I grab my keys and quickly exit the house. Time to get some answers.
“I am going out!” I yell as I cross the threshold; both of them are too busy to notice.
I need to mail this, but I don’t want Mike to know.
So, I am going for a ride. With all the drama, it is morning now, and it's the perfect time for it. It will help clear my mind—which I desperately need right now—and at the same time allow the men to get their thoughts in order. At least, that’s what I hope for.
Before anything, I have to make a stop at the post office to send off the envelopes. If I’m lucky enough, they'll reach the recipient fast enough for us to have an answer in a few days. I send a quick email to the lawyer before I climb onto my motorcycle.
I didn’t notice when Liam unloaded the van, but I am glad he did. I hate taking the motorcycles in and out of it, and honestly, it’s one reason I am always grateful we return on the bikes while he drives the van back after a hunt.
I take the road leading toward the center of town where the post office is. The day is still early and everything is silent. It's the perfect time for a bike ride after I finish my task.