2. Jace
Noise. There is noise all around me. Loud thumping music from the massive speakers in the corner. Chatter from the mass of people around me. My own voice as I laugh too loudly at the joke that the guy opposite me cracked. And yet, it’s still not enough to drown out the constant buzzing in my head.
Leaning forward on the couch, I snatch my glass of vodka from the table and down the rest of it in one go. It burns in my throat on the way down. But it might as well have been water, because it does nothing to numb the terrible restlessness that vibrates inside me.
I flex my fingers on the glass and then grab the half empty bottle on the table to refill it.
“What did I tell you?” the guy on the couch opposite me says to his friend as he slaps his arm with the back of his hand. “If there’s anyone who can hold his liquor, it’s Jace Hunter.”
I laugh, again too loudly, and then hold out my glass in a cheers. “I’ll drink to that.”
They chuckle and clink their glasses against mine. They drink a mouthful. I empty my glass again.
Blowing out a long breath, I rake my fingers through my messy hair.
It feels as if there is a swarm of angry bees buzzing inside my ribcage. I just want to crack my chest open and release them. Or crawl out of my own skin before I start crawling up the fucking walls instead.
I flex my fingers on the glass again and then once more drag my other hand through my hair.
Distraction. I need a distraction. Something to block out everything that goes on inside my head.
“Hey, Jace.”
I look up from my now empty glass to find an attractive brunette dropping down on the couch next to me. All around us, the party is in full swing. People are dancing on the floor to our left and others are playing a drinking game to my right. Blackwater University might be a school for hitmen, but we still know how to party.
Raising my empty glass, I give the brunette next to me a salute before I set my glass back down on the table. “What’s up.”
“What’s up?” she echoes, and purses her lips in a show of exaggerated disappointment. “That’s all I get?”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye while I lean back on the couch again. I’m pretty sure I fucked her at some point. Was it this year? Or last year? I can’t remember. In fact, I can’t even remember her name. And I don’t care.
Just like everyone else at Blackwater, she’s just one of the many meaningless distractions I’ve used in order to get some stress release and to get out of my own head for a little while. She doesn’t matter. None of them do. Nothing matters.
“You don’t remember me?” she continues, still with that fake pout. Then she flashes me a seductive smile. “I’ll help jog your memory.”
Before I can reply, she swings her leg over mine and twists so that she is straddling my lap. The guys on the couch opposite us whistle and cheer before laughing approvingly. The girl, whose name I still can’t remember, places her hands on my shoulders and rolls her hips.
“Remember me yet?” she teases, looking very pleased with herself.
“Nope,” I reply.
This time, the disappointment that flashes across her face is real. But it’s gone quickly and instead replaced by a sultry expression. Climbing off my lap, she grabs my wrist and starts pulling me up.
“I suppose I’ll just have to give you a more thorough demonstration,” she says as she pulls on my wrist.
But I weigh probably twice as much as her, so unless I get up on my own, she won’t succeed in pulling me up with her. I study her face. She’s pretty. My gaze drops to her body. Toned and athletic, like most girls on this campus since she’s here to become an assassin. But she also has some nice curves.
Ah, fuck it. I wanted a distraction, and I guess this will have to do.
Pushing myself up, I let her pull me away from the couches and towards the hallway that leads to the staircase.
“I still can’t believe you don’t remember me,” she says, still holding on to my wrist as she weaves through the crowd.
Since I’m walking behind her, I can’t see her face. But I can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in her voice.
To be fair, I get it. I was probably the best fuck she ever had. A true night to remember. So the fact that I don’t remember her must sting a little.
Yeah, well, I fuck a lot of people.
You were just a distraction.
Nothing we did matters so why would I remember you?
All of those responses flit through my head, but I still have enough presence of mind to not actually say any of that out loud. That would be a pretty dick move.
So instead, I simply say, “Sorry.”
“I suppose we will just have to make tonight even more memorable then.” She winks at me from over her shoulder as she starts leading me up the stairs.
I wait until she is facing forwards again to roll my eyes.
Fuck, I haven’t even made it up the stairs yet and I’m already bored again. This isn’t working.
Pulling my wrist out of her grip, I stop halfway up the steps. She jerks to a halt as well and turns around, blinking in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
I draw a hand through my hair. “I just… I’ve gotta…” Waving my hand around, I motion vaguely towards the front door. “I’ll see you around.”
Embarrassment floods her features, but her stammered reply gets drowned out by the noise of the music and the people crowding the hallway as I quickly stride back down the steps. I shake my head and roll my shoulders back as I set course for the door. The sea of people parts before me.
I swipe a half full bottle of rum from a side table as I make my way out the door and into the warm night outside. Raising it to my lips, I drink straight from the bottle as I walk through Blackwater’s residential area where all the students live. I barely even know where I’m heading until I find myself in front of another house.
This one is silent and dark. Or at least, the ground floor and the upstairs level are. The real action is happening somewhere else.
My boots sink into the soft grass as I walk around the house and approach the door to the basement on the other side. The moment I yank the door open, noise drifts up towards me. I heave a sigh of relief. While drinking deeply from the bottle, I descend the stone steps.
A concrete basement lit by fluorescents in the ceiling meets me as I reach the bottom. It’s nothing more than a semi large room. But it’s enough for its intended purpose.
Cheers echo between the gray walls, along with the sounds of flesh striking flesh. I push my way through the crowd until I can see the middle of the room.
Two guys who are second-years, if I’m not mistaken, are fighting there in the square space that has been marked by tape. The taller one throws a punch that the other guy ducks before he delivers a blow to the tall guy’s solar plexus. He goes down like a log.
More cheers rise from the crowd.
I take another drink from my bottle before shoving it into the hands of the guy next to me.
“I’m next,” I call as I pull off my shirt.
All first-years and second-years in the room shrink back. But a blond guy from my senior class with a hungry glint in his eyes steps up and accepts the challenge. I roll my shoulders back and step into the makeshift fighting ring while he takes off his shirt as well.
That terrible restlessness still thrums inside me like a lightning storm trapped in a glass bottle. I rake my fingers through my hair. It feels as if light constantly flickers in my brain. I just need a fucking outlet.
The room quiets as I square up against the other third-year in front of me.
Hopefully, this will at least drown out the buzzing in my head.
Hopefully, it will make me forget for a few minutes just how fucking pointless my entire life is.
Lurching forward, I slam my fist into the guy’s ribs.
My body aches and my throat is dry when I wake up. Fuck, I feel like I’ve been run over by a freight train. And I’m pretty sure my liver hurts.
Groaning, I blindly throw out a hand to grab my phone from my nightstand. But I just slam it right into what feels like the backrest of the couch in my living room. I must have passed out on the couch when I got home last night.
With another annoyed groan, I pull my hand back and instead rub it over my face. Then I heave a deep breath and open my eyes.
Three guns are pointed straight at me.
I blink, adrenaline pulsing through my body for a second before I recognize the three guys holding the weapons.
Drawing my eyebrows down in a scowl, I shoot them all a glare while sitting up and swinging my legs off the couch. “Get those fucking guns out of my face.”
Eli, Kaden, and Rico just watch me in silence, still pointing their guns at me. I shoot my three brothers another glare.
Then I arch an expectant eyebrow at them, and Rico at last slides his gun into the back of his pants. Kaden holsters his as well, but instead slips out a knife that he starts spinning in his hand. Eli keeps the gun in his hand but uses it to motion at the combined kitchen and living room around us.
“The fuck did you do to our house?” he says. It’s more of a demand than a question.
“It’s not your house anymore,” I remind him. “You all have already graduated.”
“Technically, Rico didn’t graduate,” Kaden comments with a smirk directed at Rico.
“Shut up,” Rico retorts.
Blowing out a forceful breath, I rake my fingers through my hair and then run my tongue around my parched mouth. How much did I drink last night? Clearly not enough, since that thrumming restlessness inside me is already back.
“How did you even get in here?” I mutter as I reach for the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table before me.
Kaden shoots me a look as if I’ve just said the dumbest thing ever while Rico quickly snatches the bottle from the table before I can grab it.
I glare at Rico, who just stares me down, before shifting my attention to Kaden, who looks like he’s waiting for me to answer my own question.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re elite assassins and mafia bosses,” I mutter. “Whatever.”
“We also used to live here, remember?” Rico says as he walks over to the liquor cabinet and puts the bottle there.
I let out something between a snarl and a sigh, and then push myself up from the cream-colored couch. Neither Eli nor Kaden makes any move to step back and allow me to pass, so I simply grab the back of the couch and jump over it instead.
“Pretty spry for someone who was passed out dead a minute ago,” Eli says, shooting me a grin and a look full of challenge.
However, before I can retort, Kaden speaks up. Or rather, issues a command.
“Drink some water,” he orders. Then he nods towards my left shoulder. “And put some ice on your shoulder.”
I raise my eyebrows in silent question while the three of them round the couch and approach the kitchen island as well.
“I saw you wince when you twisted around,” Kaden responds to my wordless question.
“Of course you did,” I mutter under my breath.
The bastard never misses a thing. I walk right past the freezer, but I do head for the sink since I actually am thirsty. After downing two entire glasses of water, I turn back to my meddling brothers and cross my arms over my chest.
They all look the way they usually do when I see them. It’s not as often anymore since I’m still studying at Blackwater while all of them have left university and joined the real world.
Rico with his brown hair that curls softly looks the most like me. Which is interesting considering that he is technically our cousin and not our brother. Our hair is the same shade of brown, but my brown eyes are a little lighter than his. Ever since he left Blackwater, he has started wearing suits more often, though. Which is not something that I would ever willingly put on.
At least Kaden and Eli still wear their customary dark pants and tight-fitting black shirts complete with combat boots. As usual, Kaden has his knife holsters secured around his thighs and hips. That, combined with his sharply styled straight black hair and his dark eyes that always see too much, makes him look as dangerous and lethal as he really is.
And Eli is no better. His hair is also straight and black, but his eyes are a strange golden color. It would’ve made him look almost beautiful, if it weren’t for the fact that those eyes of his are often tinted with a bit of insanity. Not to mention the scar that cuts through his eyebrow and ends at the top of his cheek. Or the other hundreds of scars across his skin.
“What are you even doing here?” I demand as I raise my eyebrows at the three of them.
“Dad has called a family meeting,” Eli says.
I let out something between a groan and a sigh. “About what?”
“He didn’t say. But he told us to go and get you.” He jerks his chin towards the open doorway to the corridor. “So, get to it.”
I narrow my eyes at him. But I know that there is no point in arguing, because our dear father does not take kindly to disobedience. So in the end, I just heave another sigh and reply, “Fine.”
After taking a shower and changing clothes, I stalk down the stairs again. My brothers hear me coming and walk out of the kitchen at the same time as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
Something cold and hard smacks into my chest, and I catch it by reflex. Glancing down, I find an ice pack in my hands. I look up and meet Kaden’s dark eyes. He shoots me a commanding stare and stabs a hand towards my shoulder.
I roll my eyes but then raise the ice pack and hold it against my shoulder. The coldness immediately seeps through my muscles and soothes the ache.
After locking the door behind us, we all climb into Eli’s Range Rover. I watch the gray concrete buildings that make up Blackwater University fade outside the windows to be replaced by fields as Eli drives us back towards the city.
When we reach our family home, Dad is already waiting for us in the study. Mom is nowhere to be seen, which isn’t a good sign. It means that Dad probably timed this so that she wouldn’t be here to calm things down. He has been threatening to kick my ass unless I pull myself together and stop drinking and fighting and neglecting my studies. And as I walk into his office, I can’t help but wonder if he has finally decided to make good on that promise.
I left the ice pack in Eli’s car, so I cross my arms over my chest and lock eyes with our father as I come to a halt on the other side of the desk where he’s sitting. Eli and Kaden take up position on my left and right, with Rico on Eli’s other side.
“Well, you wanted a family meeting,” Eli says and lifts his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Here we are.”
Dad shoots him a disapproving look at the arrogance in his tone. But he raised us with the same arrogance and dominance that he himself possesses, so I don’t know why he’s surprised.
After holding Eli’s nonchalant stare for another second, Dad shifts his sharp blue eyes to me. “The time for gentle guiding is long past now, Jace.”
I force out an annoyed breath. “What is this? My intervention?”
He slams his hand down on the desk, making the pens jump and clatter. “Enough! Enough with the flippant attitude. I get reports from your instructors at Blackwater. And do you know what they say?”
“That I’m the best marksman in the senior year and at the top of the charts in every sparring competition?”
“That you barely show up to class! That you get into fights with anyone and everyone over the smallest things. That you smell like alcohol half of the fucking time.”
My brothers cast me a glance from the corner of their eyes, but they say nothing.
I just hold our father’s stare. “So?”
His eyes flash. “I will give you one chance to come up with another answer to that.”
“If you’re so unhappy with my performance, then pull me out of Blackwater.”
“Pull you out of Blackwater?” Placing his palms on the table, he slowly stands up and leans forward over the desk while locking furious eyes on me. “You are my son. And you will finish your education at Blackwater just like your brothers have. Just like I have. Just like my father did. And his father before him. You are a Hunter and?—”
“And maybe that’s the problem!”
The words tear out of my chest with the force of a gunshot, and they’re out before I can stop them. Anger and panic and desperation rip through me, shredding my insides as I stare at my father in the now dead silent room. My chest is heaving.
Dad looks shocked.
For a few seconds, all he does is to blink at me in stunned silence. Then the wheels start turning behind his eyes.
It sends another spike of panic up my spine. But it’s too late to take it back now.
The fury drains from Dad’s features and is instead replaced by confusion. Holding my gaze, he shakes his head slowly while realization finishes trickling through his mind.
Then he at last says the words that I have been trying to hide for years now.
“You don’t want to be a hitman.” It’s half question, half statement.
Eli and Rico whip around to stare at me.
“What?” Eli blurts out. Confusion swirls in his eyes too as he looks at me. “You don’t want to become a hitman?”
I glance towards him but don’t reply since I haven’t decided what to say yet. Thankfully, Eli’s gaze shifts to Kaden on my other side and his frown deepens.
“Wait,” Eli begins, now looking at Kaden. “Why the fuck are you not surprised?”
Both Rico and our father now turn to Kaden as well, blinking in surprise. Kaden just looks back at them with that customary blank expression on his face.
“Did you know?” Dad demands.
Of course he did. He always does, somehow. He even tried to confront me about it last year.
“Yes,” Kaden simply replies.
“What the fuck,” Eli says at the same time as Dad grinds out, “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Because I told him that I would shoot him in the head if he finished the sentence.
But Kaden doesn’t tell them that. Instead, he just meets my eyes briefly before shifting his gaze back to the rest of our family. He lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug. “Because it wasn’t my place to say.”
Rico, who looked like he had been about to say something, just closes his mouth again and nods. Eli does too. Because they understand. We don’t force each other to talk about stuff until we’re ready. And we don’t share secrets with outsiders. Including our parents.
But Dad does not look satisfied by that answer. Displeasure flickers in his blue eyes as he fixes Kaden with a sharp stare. “For how long?”
“I’ve suspected it for about five years,” Kaden admits. “And I’ve known for certain for a little over a year.”
Five years? He has known how I feel about this for five years? That’s news to me. I flick a glance at my brother again. He meets my gaze briefly, but neither of us say anything. Most people assume that Kaden is a pure psychopath who doesn’t understand emotions. But I know that he can actually read them better than anyone.
“Fucking hell,” Dad curses under his breath. He rubs a hand over his face before dragging it through his brown hair. Then he fixes me with a look full of disappointment. “You don’t want to be a hitman. Why?”
“It’s not?—”
“Is it because you don’t want to kill people?”
“It’s not that.”
“It’s too dangerous?”
“Too dangerous?” I scowl at him. “Have you met me?”
“Too complicated then?”
“No. I can plan assassinations just fine.”
“Then what the hell is the problem?”
“I just want a fucking choice!” I scream, the words tearing out from the very depths of my soul.
Dad draws back and blinks in surprise.
“I want a fucking choice,” I repeat. My chest heaves, and fear and anger and panic rip through my chest again.
He shakes his head slowly, confusion once more marring his brows. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s not that I hate the concept of being a hitman,” I explain. “I like the violence. The chaos. The power. But I hate that I don’t have a choice.”
Next to me, I can feel my brothers watching me. But none of them interrupt. Dad just continues staring at me, his mouth slightly open in surprise and befuddlement.
“I want to choose what I do with my life,” I say. “I want to decide my own future. But I can’t. Because I’m a Hunter, and that means that I must become a hitman. Whether I want to or not.” Holding his stare, I shake my head. “So what’s the fucking point? I can’t choose my own life, so why even bother with it? It doesn’t matter. Nothing fucking matters. So why the hell should I care if I never show up to class or pick unnecessary fights or that my professors think I smell like alcohol?”
The silence that descends over the neatly furnished study is so loud that I can practically hear it ringing between the dark wooden walls.
For quite a while, no one says anything. Once again, I can feel my brothers watching me. But I keep my eyes on our father. Indecision swirls in his eyes.
Then, at last, he breaks the crackling silence.
“I received an unusual request yesterday,” he says carefully. “From the Ashford family.”
“The real estate moguls?” Eli asks.
“Yes,” Dad replies, but he keeps his eyes on me. “I’ve done some jobs for them in the past, but the one they offered yesterday was so odd that I was planning to refuse. But maybe I shouldn’t.”
“What kind of job?” I demand.
“Bodyguard.”
I frown.
“I know,” Dad says. “That was my first reaction too. Trent Ashford wants to hire a bodyguard for his twenty-year-old daughter who studies business at Ivy River University on the other side of the city. For at least the rest of the semester.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I want you to continue our family’s tradition and become a hitman. I’m not going to deny that. And I am disappointed in how you have handled your three years at Blackwater up until now. But…” He pauses for a few seconds, holding my gaze with commanding eyes. “I am open to making a deal with you.”
I cross my arms. “What kind of deal?”
“If you can successfully handle this bodyguard job for the Ashfords, thereby showing me that you can get your shit together and act responsibly and professionally, then I will let you choose whether or not you finish your education at Blackwater and become a hitman.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Our Dad isn’t exactly known for his ability to compromise. He is used to giving orders and having them obeyed.
I stare at him. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.” He raises his eyebrows. “So, what do you say?”
“Deal.”
He nods.
Relief and astonishment pulse through my chest. This is better than anything I could have hoped for.
Bodyguard to a twenty-year-old girl at a fancy business school?
How hard could it possibly be?