The Bedlam Boys: Complete Series

Chapter Thirteen

Friday morning, I walked the short distance to Paris’s house. She was giving me a ride to school these days since the Bedlam Boys were sitting out classes at the command of their dean.

They shut down school for a day to collect witness statements and stem the flood of worried and irate parents who heard there was a shooting.

There was, and if you asked me, it was stupid crossing into insane that those guards fired guns and set off a panicking crowd. Did it work to stop the fight? Yes. Did four people end up in the hospital because of the stampede and now one is suing the school? Also yes.

To cool things down, Dean Banks removed the Bedlam Boys and the Crows from campus and allowed classes to resume for everyone else. I asked Roan why the guys were going along with this suspension, and he said, “You do not argue with Josephine Banks. Even I know the limit.”

The Crows seemed to have gotten that message too, since I didn’t see or hear a whisper of them.

The last few days at Bedlam University were the most uneventful since I started. Everyone pegged me as their captive, not their accomplice, so they didn’t bother me now that I was set free.

That is everyone except for Quinn. She caught me and Paris rolling into school the day before, and had a lot to say to our backs as we walked away. Otherwise, it was life as my new normal.

Legend saw no reason to tuck the true side of himself back in the cage. If anything, over the last few days, the savagery our circumstances brought out in him, focused the man into a paddle-wielding beast.

The words slut, bitch, and slave were becoming permanent tattoos on my backside. Legend added whore the day before, so now I had it smack across both cheeks.

He was nothing like Jacques who waited till I gave him a reason. According to Legend, I’ve already given him plenty.

Sitting down was a constant challenge, even though after Legend tucked me in bed, I’d wake sometime in the night to find him smearing aloe on my cheeks. He’d let me stay in bed the next morning, air cooling my sticky butt, and watching TV while I waited for someone to bring me breakfast and Cairo to shower with me before school.

I cut through campus the back way, walking past Douglas Herbert’s memorial. My thoughts turned to the Letter Man as they always did at some point, within every minute, during every hour.

Paris and I had different schedules. We came to school in time for whoever had their first class, and left after the last. Paris had evening classes every day of the week, which left me time to run off campus, ride with Frankie to the farm, and see if I had a new letter.

A time and date of our first meeting he promised me. So far, my letterbox was empty.

I stepped onto the sidewalk, taking it around to the square where I’d cut through to reach the bus station. Paris’s classes didn’t let out until five. It was one in the afternoon. I had plenty of time.

A horn blared.

“Hey, de Souza. Wait up.”

Twisting around, I slowed as a Lexus pulled up to the curb next to me.

“Get in,” Jeremy said. He rode alone. No brother or cronies in sight. “We’re going to my place.”

“Uh, no, thank you, stranger danger. Keep driving or I’ll scream.”

I set off, listening to Jeremy crack up. He inched along beside me.

“Don’t be like that,” he said. “I apologize for calling you a bitch. I was a bit upset over my brother going missing. I can be forgiven for that, can’t I?”

“Sure,” I replied. “It’s siccing your new girlfriend on me that’s putting you on my punch-him-in-the-face-next-time-I-see-him list. She ripped half the hair out of my head.”

“That wasn’t on me. The fight got out of hand. Besides, Quinn hates you because of the Bedlam Boys, not me. They threw her over like trash. Exactly how they treat you. If anything, you should be thanking me for knocking them off their pedestals, and doing it hard.”

“Thanking you?”

He gestured to me. “You’re leash-free. At least for now. I bought you a few days rid of the Bedlam Boys.”

Not exactly.

“Come on,” he pressed. “Get in.”

“What do you want, Jeremy?”

“You told me to put our deal in writing. I did.”

I stopped dead on the pavement. I couldn’t have heard that right.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve got the contract for the farm buy back at my place. Don’t tell me you’re not interested anymore?”

I leaned on the car, sticking my head through the window. “Your father agreed to write up a contract stating he’ll purchase and transfer ownership of my farm to me... if I spy on a couple college boys?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” He popped the lock. “Getting in or what?”

“What are the new terms?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You asked me to spy and tell you what they’re planning,” I said. “But you’ve taken them down. What’s left for me to do?”

“Ah, de Souza. You’ve got your looks going for you. That’ll get you far.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Don’t get mad, darling. You don’t have a head for these things.” He leaned across the seat, oozing a charming smile though his words didn’t match. “We won a battle, not the war. The Bedlam Boys will be holed up somewhere, planning how to stop us winning anymore.

“Get back in with them, and tell me everything they say. Even the shit they mumble in their sleep. Tell me when they leave the house. Follow them when they do. Get close to their families. Find out what they know about their sons and what they do.”

“So you can use it to chop my home into pieces? Why would I want that, Ellis?”

“Your home is that farm. Admit it,” he said. “How much did you have to do with the townies and their little lives before you started at this university? Your life was always fifteen miles that way.” He pointed. “You never cared what happened on this side of the town line, don’t pretend you care now.

“Make your choice, Rainey. Are you giving up everything your grandmother worked for over a change that’s coming no matter what anyone does to stop it? Or are you going to accept what we all are at our core? Self-serving bastards.”

It was a good speech. On anyone else, he would’ve had them the moment he honked on the horn. But Jeremy didn’t hook me—until he brought up Gran.

Are you giving up everything your grandmother worked for?

No, I’m not.

I got in the car. “We have to make a stop first,” I said. “De Souza Farm. I’m sure you know the way.”

Jeremy drove me out to my empty farmhouse. I texted Paris on the way, telling her not to wait for me. Pulling up to the fence, I told Jeremy I wouldn’t be long and climbed over. A letter waited for me in the box.

I checked to make sure no one was watching, and peeled it open.

Saturday night in the place we always meet.

Midnight.

Come alone or you’ll make me angry.

Don’t make that mistake after all the progress we’ve made.

Till tomorrow.

Stay psycho.

Love ya. XOXO

I tucked the letter in my pocket and kept the words in my mind on the way down. He expected me to meet him tomorrow night at the farmhouse. No other place it could be. No other location that could be worse.

I’d be alone with him miles away from help or witnesses. There was nothing to stop him turning a discussion into a nightmare—except for me.

My mind was made up to go before I got back in Jeremy’s car. It was made up before we drove here too.

I’d meet him alone but I wouldn’t do it unarmed. He’d stand before me at arrow-point and tell me everything. Why he and Cavendish targeted me? Was I some random person they woke up one day and decided to torture, or was this something they’d been doing for years?

Both Letter Men spoke of sacrifice like it was a fact of life. They were doing something that must be done. How many of the missing people or unsolved murders in Bedlam’s recent history could be laid at their feet?

I’ll get there early. Have the bow trained on him the moment he comes through the door.

My head churned, turning over every inch of my plan and what I’d do if it went sour. Jeremy made no attempt to talk to me, and I didn’t start a conversation either.

This is the part in the movie where the audience screams at the girl to call the police.

Let them know what’s going on and have them on standby to arrest him. Even if I put my hatred of the sheriff aside, I don’t know that I would’ve chosen that option. The Letter Man could be anyone. He was certainly someone who remained ahead of me and law enforcement. The cops in this town didn’t know he existed.

What if he’s on the force? What if he’s Sheriff Fucking Jack?

Asking me to trust the very people who let me down to come through and save me this time, was too hard a sell.

I closed my eyes, resting my aching head on the cool glass. If I was honest with myself, none of that was the true reason I was going to walk onto that farm alone. The truth was the police wouldn’t let me meet a serial killer in an abandoned barn armed with a bow. Frankie wouldn’t just idle on the corner, hanging out with the promise I’d be back in thirty minutes.

No one would let me do this the way I knew it had to be done. I was going alone. That fact scared me in every place but one. A deep, calm island buoyed in my soul. That’s where I’d hide until it was over.

Opening my eyes, I landed on the sign for Bay Avenue.

Jeremy drove us to the smallest house on the street, though that wasn’t saying much.

It didn’t have the two-story fountain or turrets breaking the sky. This one was two stories of stone and blackout windows. The lawn was mostly well-kept if not for the donut rings marring the grass.

Jeremy led me inside by the elbow. Did he think I was going to run? I made it this far.

We rounded a corner and I grimaced. Made it this far and it was a mistake.

The place was a dump.

Dirty clothes strewn all over the living room—not all of them men’s clothes. Crumbs ground deep in what used to be a plush, white carpet. It was now a variety of colors.

Two of the Crows vegged out on the couch, clad in their boxers and rocking popcorn bowls on their stomach.

“Hey.” Jeremy lobbed a stray shoe at Bentley’s head. “Clean this place up. There’s a party tonight.”

I’d forgotten about the party. Half the student body was coming out to celebrate with their new masters.

We continued past Bentley and Gael, sensing their eyes on the back of my head.

I didn’t care what Jeremy said, these guys would be no different from the Bedlam Boys. Judging by how easily they stabbed people and started brawls that resulted in hospitalization, they’d be worse in their own way.

We went up the stairs, going into a room at the end of the hall. The place clearly came furnished. I couldn’t see a bunch of guys with neck tattoos and leather jackets choosing the floral wallpaper or the egg chair propped in the corner next to a tea nook.

“Sit.”

I claimed the desk chair and scooted aside for Jeremy to come around and pull papers from the drawer.

“Here you are,” he said. “Checked by our lawyers. Signed by Dad.”

The next thing out of the drawer was a pen.

“Sign.”

I took the pen and dropped it back where it came from.

“I’ll need time to review this. Do you have your father’s lawyer’s number? It’s easier if I tell him the changes I want to make directly instead of doing it through you.”

Jeremy frowned, cutting a wrinkle down his smooth brow. “There won’t be any changes. The deal is take it or leave it.”

“Nevertheless, I’d like his number.”

“Dammit, de Souza, stop—”

“Why is this a problem? Is there something in the contract you know I’m not going to like?” I tossed the papers across the room. “That saves me a lot of trouble. Bye now.”

He snatched my arm, grabbing me in a painful grip. “Stop!”

“Hey! Get the fuck off me!”

Jeremy dropped my arm immediately. “Sorry,” he said, smiling disarmingly. “I shouldn’t have done that. Won’t happen again.”

I edged away from him, rubbing my arm.

“I am sorry,” he repeated. “Look.” Jeremy took out his phone, tapped a few buttons, and handed it to me. “Caleb Graham. He’s my dad’s lawyer. He’ll walk you through the contract line by line. You can stay in here as long as it takes to see this is all on the up-and-up.”

He tiptoed around me, hands held above his head comically. “Can I get you anything? Call out for lunch?”

“No,” I said after a beat. “I’m fine.”

“Great.” Jeremy closed the door behind him.

It took me a minute to pick up the contract and dial the number. A deep voice picked up on the third ring.

“Hello, this is Caleb Graham with Graham and Associates. How can I help you?”

“Hi, this is Rainey de Souza. I don’t know if you—”

“Miss de Souza, good to hear from you.” His tone brightened. “I faxed the paperwork over this morning. Is everything in order?”

I eased into the seat. So far, so legit.

“That’s what I’m calling you about. I’d like to go over the contract with you line by line. Is now a good time to talk?”

“Excellent time. What are your concerns?”

Caleb and I talked for hours. We were on the phone for so long, my stomach forced me to take Jeremy up on his offer of Chinese takeout, and the guys started blowing up my phone, demanding to know where I was.

I didn’t reply with full knowledge I’d be punished later. This wasn’t about me and the Bedlam Boys right now. It was about me and Gran. As much as they’d come to consume my life with their rare kisses and raw, dangerous power, this was one part no one got to touch. I had to do what my grandmother would’ve wanted me to do, and she wanted this farm in our family. I could not let anyone get in our way.

“As you can see,” Caleb said, “it’s standard boilerplate, Miss de Souza.”

“Mostly,” I agreed. “A lot of this is pretty standard, except for a few things. It says I have to give Jeremy or Micah Ellis weekly verifiable information about the Bedlam Boys, insert names here, up to and including their actions or their parents’ actions against construction, mining, or the development of a new town.”

“Yes?” Caleb prompted.

“What are we calling verifiable information? If I overhear a conversation that they want to beat the Crows into a bloody heap their own mothers won’t recognize, how do I prove that’s a credible threat before they... do it?”

“Ah, well, yes, I see your point. Stated threats are hard to verify before they’re carried out. While of course the Ellises need to know if there is a threat against their lives, we’re mostly focused on serious opposition to the creation of a new town. For example, if you overhear Mr. Creed say he’s holding a secret town hall meeting to oppose the venture. That’s something we can verify and take steps to address.”

“Okay.” I put that aside for now since the whole point of this was for me to spy. I couldn’t ask for a lot of wiggle room on that one. “There’s also the part about ownership reverting to Steven Ellis in the event of my death.”

“In the event you pass without heirs,” he corrected. “Blood relations. Surely you don’t object. He’s investing a significant amount into this property. God forbid if something happened to you, why should that investment sit barren and empty?”

“What if I want to will it to another farmer? Someone who’ll work the land and take care of the animals after I’m gone.”

“You’re more than free to do so, Miss de Souza, as long as that farmer is a blood relation.”

I chewed the inside of my mouth, thinking. Downstairs, speaker feedback continually cut through my train of thought. The sun was setting. The New Boys were gearing up for their party.

This stipulation in the contract wasn’t unreasonable. I just didn’t like the idea of the farm not being mine to do what I want with.

If you die without heirs. Even willing it to Ivy would keep it in de Souza hands. She probably won’t come back to live here, but she’d see that it was taken care of the way Gran wanted.

“Alright,” I said. “Moving on.”

We continued on through the rest, ending on a pleasant note.

“You have a bright future ahead of you, Miss de Souza,” he said. “If you ever decide a small-town law firm is more your speed, join us at Graham and Associates.”

I laughed. “Will do. Have a good evening.”

“You as well.”

It was five minutes after I hung up that Jeremy came into the room.

“What’s it going to be?” He dropped down on the egg chair. “All good? Contract signed.”

I handed him his phone, studying him. I’d been on many trains of thought since I got in his car. “Why did you come here?” I asked. “Do you know anything about a company called Foundry?”

“You’ve been talking to Creed.”

“No, I overheard them talking—which is the point. To find out what they know, and they seem to know that you’re more than you’re saying. What is Foundry? What does it do?”

He shrugged. “My dad invests in many companies. I can’t keep track of them all.”

“Where does the distillery fit into all of this?”

Another shrug. “He wants it. St. James won’t let him have it. Dad doesn’t take well to no.”

“But he doesn’t need to establish his own town to buy out the distillery. Don’t give me anymore bullshit answers,” I said when he opened his mouth. “I’ve taken three classes dealing with land, property, and ownership. If he wanted to build his own distillery, this would make sense. He can’t come in and do something like that without approval from town hall—which he wouldn’t get.

“Bedlam has strict rules about commercial development. Lumber companies, grocery chains, golf courses, and all sorts have tried to claim the patches of land sitting empty. All have been shot down. In that case, I can almost see creating your own town where no one is going to tell you no.

“The effort you’ll have to go through to get fifty-one percent of Bedlamites to turn their back on a town they’re damn proud of, is overkill just to get your hands on one...” I trailed off, narrowing on my silent opponent. “Of course.”

“Of course what?”

“I’m stupid. It’s so perfectly obvious I should’ve seen it before.”

Jeremy stood to face me. “You think you figured something out, share with the rest of the class.”

“It’s not about acquiring a business that’s already there. Lumber, store chains, and golf courses. None of those companies were allowed to cut down or build here. Foundry wants to do both or either of those things, and they know it’s going to be a flat-out no. That’s why you need to create your own town.”

Jeremy was expressionless.

“You guys in Hunter’s Crest have already bought, sold, or developed every blade of grass within the city limits. While Bedlam is miles and miles of untapped potential and a huge youth market.” I clapped. “Well done. Whatever business you want to start here must be insanely lucrative. No other reason you’d go through that much trouble.”

“Interesting theory.” A smile broke out on his lips. “But like I said, I don’t think about what the old man gets up to, but while we’re talking huge youth market, I should float the idea of a club. Definitely one or two smoke shops.”

He flicked over my shoulder. “Hope your little revelation isn’t going to stop you from signing. The land is still yours even if a new town pops up around it.”

“I know.” I tossed him the contract. “I signed ten minutes ago. I want the keys in my hand by the end of the month, and Cruella is to deliver them personally. Good luck with your diabolical plan. But just a warning, despite you calling us hicks every chance you get, Bedlamites aren’t stupid. Other people will figure it out. We won’t give our home up to developers as easily as you think.”

Jeremy slung an arm around my shoulder. Apparently, we were buddies now. “Why are you telling me? All I know is Dad wants to bring back Crystal Canyon and the Crows are making a permanent move. We’ve got no interest in taking shit from the Bedlam Boys like everyone else around here is happy to do, so we put those puffed-up shits in their place. Again, you should be thanking me. But I’ll show my thanks to you.”

“How?”

“Stay for the party.”

Jeremy led me out, sweeping his hand over the transformation below. The clothes were picked up and carpet vacuumed. That wasn’t what impressed me.

Speakers stacked all along the back wall. Strobe lights attached to the ceiling waiting to be turned on. They copied the Bedlam Boys with the bowls of brightly colored pills and glow-in-the-dark paint waiting to shine under black light. Where they differed was the giant ball pit in the middle of the room, and an entire grand dining table’s worth of alcohol. In the corner, the DJ prepped to blow our eardrums.

“Tonight will be bigger than Ruckus Royale ever was, and whoever misses out will set themselves on fire.”

“That’s not funny.”

He laughed. “You’re right. Too soon. But seriously, stay. Jonah says your entire crew is coming. Even Cairo’s hot sister.” He whistled. “Hard to believe they came from the same gene pool.”

Are you implying the guy isn’t hot? The man walks around with a warning label. Seriously, one of his tattoos says “caution.”

“I don’t know if I should. I have a paper due for Ethical Issues that I haven’t started yet.”

“That’s what Saturday and Sunday are for. What’s the problem?” He held out his arms, beaming away. “We’re friends now, right?”

“We’re business partners.”

“Business partners can still party.”

I blew out a breath. “Alright, I’ll stay. But only because you got Chinese from the good place on Rose Street.”

“That’s almost the spirit.” He shook me, riding high on a good mood. “I’ll grab you a beer.”

“Thanks,” I said, tossing him a salute.

Why argue with the guy? I was literally a three-minute walk from Legend’s house. I could leave whenever I wanted.

Fishing out my phone, I shot a text to Roan.

Me: You can call off the search dogs. I’m at the New Boys’ place. They came through with the contract.

His reply came back in seconds.

Roan: Stay there.

Me: Why?

Roan: Why not? It’s a party.

Me: For how long?

Roan: Till I come and get you.

I shot more texts at him but didn’t get a reply. I gave up and put it away when I spotted Jeremy coming up with my beer.

“Cheers,” he said, holding his up to clink.

Why not? It’s a party.

“Cheers.”

An hour and a half later, I was testing my what the hell resolve. This party was both the last days of Rome and the Mayan calendar rolled into one. Our town had the right name, because people were going insane.

“Rainey, try this!” Elise half fell on my lap. She tried to get a blue pill in my mouth and conked my forehead.

“No, thank you. I don’t eat anything out of a shared bowl.”

I gently peeled her off me, helping her sit properly on the couch. She turned on Zara and shoved the pill in her mouth instead.

“Whoo!”

Something, or someone, streaked out of the corner of my eye. I looked up as they hit the ball pit—launched from the second-floor balcony. A group of naked girls play wrestling in the pit, stopped their fun to see if the still mass sinking in the balls was alive.

Bentley popped up, pumping his fists. “Yeah! Who’s next?”

Twelve people broke off and beat it upstairs.

I grew up on a farm. My idea of a wild night was racing to get the goats in the pen when a coyote was on the loose. This place was on another level. I wouldn’t say it was bigger than Ruckus Royale, but it was close.

Almost the entire Bedlam University student body was stuffed in their suddenly too small mansion. The music blasted. People danced buck naked in glow-in-the-dark paint, and proved once again we’ve left all prudishness about public sex behind.

I pushed through the crush, searching out the water bottles for my high friends. I passed a group of ten—five guys standing and five girls on their knees. From the hooting and cheering of those watching, they were racing to see who could make their guy come first. Overhead, the big screen played a string of videos of other wild parties, some of it porn.

I made it to the drink table. Come on. Come on, where are you?

Vodka, beer, wine, cider, brandy, even sake. There wasn’t a drop of water on the table.

Continuing on, I slipped outside on the patio. It was no less packed out there than it was inside. My classmates skinny-dipped in the pool. Further back, I spotted Gael’s back of the shaved head setting off fireworks with a bunch of guys.

I was there to witness it and I still couldn’t believe how easily they wrestled control from the Bedlam Boys. This crowd had changed allegiances.

“Fuck the Bedlam Boys,” Jeremy roared.

“Yeah!”

That was the most telling evidence. About every fifteen minutes, Jeremy hopped on the speaker system rigged throughout the mansion and blared his feelings about my guys. All with enthusiastic support from the people who once dropped to their knees on Roan’s order over the radio.

I saw a lot of things I couldn’t unsee, but no water bottles in the coolers.

Tap water will have to do.

I turned to go back. Paris came up to me—dressed but dripping wet. “Some idiot threw me in the pool.”

Putting my arm around her, I kissed her wet cheek. She didn’t seem to be enjoying this party either. “We’ll steal a towel and dry clothes from upstairs,” I said. “First, I’ve got to get some water in your sloppy friends.”

Paris howled. “They’re your sloppy friends now too.”

“Dammit.”

The party was a fraction better now that Paris was melting by my side. We stopped off to get water, forced it on Elise and Zara, and then cut through the line of guys forming to get their blow job.

Yikes. I couldn’t imagine giving them in an assembly line, and I had five guys who may one day get me on my knees and demand it. The blow jobs Legend got out of me every night to “improve my technique” were a full-time job. He said I wasn’t good at them, but the grunts and filthy promises I extracted from him hardened my nipples and dampened my middle to the point a soft love tap with his paddle would set me off.

Upstairs, we burst into a random room. Paris went in search of a towel while I snooped to my heart’s content.

Jeremy’s room, I thought, picking up a photo of a young him and young Micah at the zoo. I knew it was his and not Micah’s because of the second picture, about four feet tall and nailed to the wall. I assumed Micah did not put a portrait of his half-naked, green-haired smirking brother over his bed.

Otherwise, it was a nice place that benefited from the taste of the person who provided the furnishing. The king-sized bed was covered in a soft, blue bedspread. It matched the chevron border around the wall and the heavy blue drapes.

Pushing them aside, I gazed out across the lights, spotting Legend’s house a few down.

“I don’t know why I came.” Paris came out of the bathroom with a towel slung on her shoulders. The tight, chiffon wrap dress was discarded in favor of a big T-shirt and sweatpants. “Elise went on and on, begging me to come and see the ‘real’ Crows. I think she’s really into this Jonah guy, and she’s convinced we’re all bound to love him too.”

“I don’t know about Jonah but—”

“Bedlam is ours!” Jeremy’s amplified shout cut in.

“—the Ellis brothers have ulterior motives and they’re not hiding them anymore.”

“They’re not going to split our town apart.”

Boos sounded from downstairs.

“Elise may be sex-high right now, but even... she supports— What is that?”

The booing was getting louder.

“Something is going on downstairs.”

We came out, rushing to the banister. What was going on became clear immediately. Roan came to get me, and he didn’t see the need to wait out on the curb.

The crowd parted for my red-haired devil imp. I called him that the day before when he sat in on my “yoga” time with Legend, and rooted for him to spank me harder, more, and with various whips and paddles he unearthed from their secret place in the closet. Roan found the nickname amusing.

“Booooo.” They were in his face—shouting, spitting, and waving their fists at him.

Roan walked amid the hate unfazed. Dressed in a blue tee, brown pants, and a jacket, he was as casual as the expression on his face. That one-sided grin shone from all the way upstairs. Tousled strands flipped from his eyes as he looked up, saw me, and gave me a nod.

The music cut off with a screech.

“What the fuck do we have here?” Jeremy crowed. “I don’t remember inviting the Bedwetter Boys.”

His audience laughed as Jeremy emerged from the other side of the ball pit, claiming center stage in front of the TV.

Roan stopped before him and the path that made way sealed behind him, closed by the partiers who realized what was going on and rushed to spectate. Roan wasn’t going anywhere.

“What are you doing here, Banks?” Gael, Bentley, and Jonah fell in beside him. “Have you come to admit defeat?”

“Yes.”

Yes? Did he just say—?

“Yes, I am,” Roan repeated louder. “Arsenio, Cairo, Jacques, and Legend aren’t going to do this, so it has to be me. It’s time for the war to end.”

My mouth fell open. What the hell was he saying? Roan had been strange the last few days. He refused to join in on the guys’ plans for vengeance, and when he thought no one was looking, I’d see him rubbing his bandage and glancing off into space.

I should’ve realized the grin he put on when he noticed me was fake. Someone tried to kill him. Run a knife through his heart, and the person is still out there. I knew what it was to have a shadow lurking over you. I’d want the fighting to end too.

“Mmmm.” Jeremy’s high-pitched hum grated on my nerves. “Just like that. You’re ready to give in.”

“Not to you.” Roan wrenched the mic from his hands. “To them.”

Roan turned to the crowd. “These shits don’t matter. They’re HC trash. Outsiders,” he said. “But you’re Bedlamites. This is our town. You’re my people. If there’s anything the Bedlam-born respect, it’s a revolt.”

The boos ceased. Jeering quieted. They were listening.

“If you don’t want the Bedlam Boys running things anymore, we’ll step aside, and I speak for all of us.” Roan turned his head up to me—a brief glance, then he flicked away. “We were trying to help. It may not seem that way, but we didn’t want to make you hate us or put you under another tyrant’s rule. We for fuck sure didn’t want to cause the destruction of Bedlam. Our town ripped in half for some company in Hunter’s Crest to make a few bucks.” He shook his head. “It makes me sick.”

“It’s not about money,” Jeremy snapped. “This is our home now too. We want the best for it, and that’s not living in fear of the consequences of pissing off your corrupt mommies and daddies. No one buys that the mayor, judge, sheriff, dean, and billionaire don’t know what you guys do. They let you because if we’re in your control, we’re in theirs!”

Nods went through the crowd.

“The only way to be free of them is to build a new town. Put an end to their corruption.”

“Yeah.”

“Exactly.”

“Bullshit,” Roan said, blunt as a hammer. “This is the only way. We don’t have a choice. You know which kind of fear-mongering thickhead uses phrases like that? You.”

Jeremy launched at him and had to be held back.

“The only way isn’t chopping our town in half and giving power to a bunch of guys we don’t know,” he said. “The only way is for you all to choose.”

The half-drunk and high crowd exchanged looks.

“You choose who you’ll trust with the future of this town. If it’s Jeremy, his old man, and the Crows, the Bedlam Boys will back off. If it’s us, we’ll do what we always do and protect Bedlam from anyone who tries to fuck with us. It’s your choice,” he repeated, “but ask yourself this before you consider the Crows.”

Roan pointed up. “Are these the people who’ll lead you to the promised land free of corruption, violence, and extortion?”

Paris opened her mouth. “What’s he—?”

The television screen went black mid-orgy. In a blink it came back on, picture whirling as the cameraperson righted themselves.

“Get ’em,” a voice rang out of the speakers. “Fuck him up.”

The shot cleared on a fight. Half a dozen guys stomped some mewling soul into the ground. They had crows on their necks.

“Shut that off,” Jeremy cried. “Turn it off!”

He, Gael, and the others ran at the television cords. They found ten guys in their path.

I hardly paid attention to the unfolding fight below. The video was still going.

Photos of Gael passing baggies and collecting money in a drug deal. A video of Jonah at a party with a girl who was obviously barely conscious. They sloppily made out and then the video shifted. We watched him carry her passed out into a bedroom, and shut the door.

“I didn’t do anything!” Jonah shouted. “I swear. I let her sleep it off. I didn’t touch her!”

The video wasn’t over. Bentley’s handsome face filled the screen. The angle zoomed out, revealing a profile page on the website Honeycomb. I didn’t know much about these things, but living on a farm wasn’t living on the wrong side of a rock. Even I knew that site was for young men and women looking for sugar mamas. Sex for cash and gifts. Straight up.

Photos of them stealing things. Videos of them bullying people. Bentley making out with a woman old enough to be his mother in the back seat of a car.

“Turn it off!”

The Crows were throwing themselves at the barricade. Why? The damage was done.

“Ellis here wants to talk about corruption,” Roan said. “He’s got a lot to say about us and the shit we do. We grew up together. Y’all have known us for too long for me to pretend we’re angels. We’re not,” he stated. “But we’re also not this. And even the Bedlam Boys know there are lines you don’t cross.

“Unlike Micah and Jeremy Ellis.”

The picture faded out again and was replaced with a very naked Micah Ellis, winking seductively at the camera with his hand around his cock.

“I’m an open-minded person,” Roan said. “Normally, I wouldn’t judge a guy for what gets his blood flowing south. Unless we’re talking about underaged kids... and his own brother. These were on Jeremy’s phone.”

“What?!”

I clapped my hand over my mouth, heaving as the photos got more explicit. Screenshots of their conversation appeared to drive the last of the Chinese food from my stomach.

Micah: No one can find out about us.

Me: It’s too dangerous. What if we’re caught?

Micah: I don’t care. I want you inside me. There’s nothing you can’t do to me.

“That’s not— I didn’t—”

“Holy shit,” someone said. Half the people watching looked as sickened as I felt. The other half hadn’t picked their jaws off the floor. “He’s your brother, man. That’s not right.”

“It’s not true! That’s fucking disgusting!” Spittle flew from Jeremy’s mouth. “He didn’t send those to me.”

“Easy to prove,” Roan said. “Make a liar out of me right now and show us your phone.”

“Piece of shit!” Jeremy stopped trying to get at the television, and flew at Roan. I’d seen the Crow lose his temper. This was the first I saw him lose control.

Three half-naked guys got in his way. The tide was turning. I felt the shift. Undoubtedly the Crows did too.

“What the hell is that reaction?” Roan asked. “Just show us your phone.”

“Yeah, show us.”

“Give up the phone.”

“Hand it over.”

“Fine.” Jeremy flung it at Roan’s head. He caught it one-handed. “There’s nothing on my phone. He did not send those texts to me. This is a trick,” he barked at the crowd. “He got those pics from the same bitch faking profiles and doctoring vid—”

“Here it is,” Roan said loud and clear. He handed the phone to someone next to him. “Tell everyone who those texts are between. Am I lying?”

The guy scrolled up, grimacing with each second looking at that screen. “Micah and Jeremy. It’s true. He’s fucking his own brother.”

“It’s not true! You’re lying,” Jeremy bellowed, eyes wild. “There’s nothing on my— You! You did this, Banks.”

“Me?” Roan repeated. “Yeah, it was me who did it. I exposed you all for what you are.”

“You put those texts and nudes on my phone.”

“So, you finally admit they’re on the phone.”

“Son of a—” The guys strained to hold him. He was fighting hard to get at Roan. “It’s all lies!”

“All of it? The videos of you jumping guys five on one? Bentley’s side business? Gael’s coke-dealing? It’s all made up?”

“No, the—”

“No,” Roan said. “Exactly.”

He turned his back in spite of Jeremy’s hand breaking through the barricade, swiping desperately at his back.

“You know us,” Roan broadcasted inside, outside, and to all of Bay Avenue. “And now you know the real Crows. It’s your choice. The Bedlam Boys won’t stop you making it. But I’ll tell you what I choose: Bedlam now.”

“Bedlam forever!”

Roan flicked up to me again. “We’re outta here, gorgeous. Come catch a ride.”

My feet carried me down of their own power. Roan actually hoisted me up and carried me on his back. I secured my arms around his neck, resting my cheek on the back of his head as we left the struggling Crows behind. They had so many guys pinning them down, I was shocked they could breathe under there. But Jeremy was getting more than enough oxygen to say what he had to say.

“You’re dead, Banks. I promise you, you’ll pay for this. Do you hear me?! You’re dead!”

Roan kicked the door shut, trotting down the drive. We were almost to Legend’s when I found my voice.

“You faked those pictures, didn’t you?”

“The cougars, drugs, beatdowns? Nah. Mom hired a private security team to patrol campus. I made the case the Crows were a problem waiting to happen, and they stopped denying it after the Homer Green brawl. All that stuff is just what they found on the surface. Who knows what they’ll find with some more digging?

“As for Micah and Jeremy. Yeah, that shit’s fake. Micah sent those texts and nudes to me. I made it look like they went to him. Not as hard as you’re thinking.”

My jaw worked. “You’re sleeping with Micah?”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Are you?” I repeated. Bitter, hot jealousy tightened the hold on his neck.

“Oooh,” he rasped. “We can give autoerotic asphyxiation a try. I’d definitely be into that. But no.” Roan smacked my ass. “He sent me nudes. We exchanged dirty texts. Hasn’t gone farther than that.

“I’ve been working on Micah since I met him. I noticed him checking out my ass, and figured this could be used to my advantage at some point. Turning him and Jeremy into brother-fuckers was truly inspired. Some of my best work.”

I leaned over him to catch his eye. “You’ve been flirting and sexting this guy for weeks, but you never planned to sleep with him?”

Roan heaved a sigh. “Still stuck on that. No, love. That guy isn’t my type. He’s submissive, and stupid. He came after my boys, my boyfriend, and my town, and thinks he’ll get laid for it. While you, are perfection. You pegged those guys as double-talking shits from jump street. And you’re still trying to choke me out.”

I eased up on my hold, resting my chin on his shoulder. Roan said things like this so easily. But he also lied without remorse, stoked rage as entertainment, manipulated me for his masochistic pleasure, and made a target out of Micah Ellis before he gave him a reason.

I was beginning to understand the Bedlam Boys and what drove them. But not Roan Banks. Maybe not ever.

“I can prove it,” he said. “Micah Ellis is currently blindfolded and chained to the bed at Hollow Grove Motel, waiting for me to deliver a ravishing that will never come. The maid will find him eventually,” he dismissed.

“If you were planning this the whole time, why didn’t you say something?” I asked. “Legend’s stress has resulted in marks on my ass.”

“And your cum on his sheets.” Roan put me down in front of Legend’s house. “I didn’t say because I didn’t know if I’d pull it off. My guards were dragging on going outside their job description. Micah was waffling on sneaking away from the party to meet me. And the whole thing hinged on Elise coming through with switching Jeremy’s phone and switching it back at the right time.”

“Elise? My Elise?”

He winked. “She was mine first. Oops.” Roan unballed my fists. “There goes that jealousy.”

“Why would Elise help you put his brother’s nudes on Jeremy’s phone?”

“She was crushing on that Jonah guy till I showed her the video. Jonah’s lying about keeping his hands to himself. The girl he raped reported him to the police, but they never made it to trial. His family is loaded too. Elise was more than happy to help me take down the Crows after that.”

“Wow.” I dropped on the curb, stretching my legs over the pavement. Roan joined me—arm brushing against mine and staying there. “People underestimate you, don’t they? And you make them regret it.”

“That’s the state of living, de Souza. People are always going to underestimate you. If you don’t set out to prove them wrong, you accept the little they make of you. In which case you deserve it.”

I hummed. “Some wisdom buried in there. I guess I have some people to prove wrong too.”

“What other choice did you have?”

“What choice did you have?” I asked. “This war over Bedlam. Trust me, I don’t want to see this town split up, but I don’t understand why this is the Bedlam Boys’ fight?”

Roan looked over his shoulder, glancing at the house. “What’s Cairo told you?”

“Why does everyone assume he’s told me anything?”

He inclined his head. “You’re right. He’s not about to give up information while you’re still hiding things from us.”

“I’m not...” The expression on his face silenced me.

“The therapists say I have a reckless disregard for authority and a penchant for making trouble that borders on pathological. I guess it was always going to be me who gave it up.”

“What are you talking about?” I rested a hand on top of his.

“We all answer to someone, Rainey. Even the Bedlam Boys. The collections. Axel Verlice. Keeping the town in line,” he said. “It’s our job—along with keeping Ellis and Foundry out of Bedlam by any means necessary.”

“Your job? Who gave it to you?”

“That’s not nearly as important as why.”

Roan turned his hand up, tickling my palm with stroking fingers. In the middle of a serious conversation and my skin was tingling.

He grasped my chin, trapping me in his light, burning pools. “Bedlam has a secret. One that’s been protected for over a hundred years, and somehow Steven Ellis knows. His company, Foundry, is buying land and houses all over town.

“Other than Legend, we didn’t have the money to stop them. That’s why we started taking collections. Everyone pays—no excuses. They bitch and moan, but the money does go back into the town. We use it to counter Foundry’s offers and stop people from selling. We put it into improving and protecting the place, so no one buys into their speeches that there’s a better life waiting for them in Beckerburg or Hunter’s Crest.

“Shits like Axel Verlice. The last thing we need are federal investigations and national news sites throwing a spotlight on this town. Can’t have them looking into the lengths we’ve gone to keep Bedlam whole, or finding out why. If the world finds out the truth about us, Bedlam as we know it will disappear.”

“So, you killed to protect it? Verlice wasn’t the first, was he?”

“No, he wasn’t,” Roan said. “But every one of them was more soulless than the last. The first name was a pedophile who kidnapped little boys on their way home from school. The fifth was manufacturing bombs out on his farm. One of his targets was the university.”

“Goodness,” I breathed.

“I didn’t shed any tears getting rid of them, and Arsenio’s taken the job on solo without complaints. He enjoyed that part of our work more than the rest, and they say you should love what you do.”

I shivered. We were having such a casual conversation about extortion and murder.

“Do we disgust you?” The question wasn’t asked in anger. Roan sounded curious.

After a pause, I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”

“So, that’s where we are. Foundry wants the town, but all the land they’ve bought doesn’t make it happen. It’s still subject to city code for as long as it’s a part of Bedlam.”

“So he sent his sons to handle part two,” I finished. “Forming their own town, so they can do whatever the hell they want with it. I know. I figured it out when I was with Jeremy today. But what’s the secret? What are they after?”

Roan smiled. “A hundred years, I’m not going to be the one who gives it up, even to a cute little spy like you.”

“I would never—”

He kissed me, swallowing my heated protest. I moaned as he nibbled my bottom lip, stealing entrance and teasing my tongue to play with his.

“Again, we’re having the wrong conversation. Obviously, they already know the only information worth hiding. It’s too late for that. There’s only stopping them now.”

“Which you’ll do,” I whispered, “by any means necessary.”

“Yes.”

“But why? Is all of this worth it?”

“You tell me, Rainey. Home,” he said. “The only place you know. Where you feel safe. Where you’ve made your memories and learned your history. Where your friends live with their parents, and your parents, and your parents’ friends. The one that has the donut shop you love, next to the smoothie place you hate. Where you kissed your first boyfriend on the walk home from school. Is fighting for a place like that worth it?”

I didn’t speak for a long time, and when I did, the calm had taken me.

“My grandmother was murdered.”

Roan’s brows snapped together. The only reaction he allowed himself. He didn’t speak, waiting for me to go on.

“She had a heart problem and collapsed in the field one day. The doctor said it was natural causes, but I knew it wasn’t true. For weeks—months—before her death, she was harassed by a company called AgriProspects. They were on her to sell, offering more and more money, but she refused. De Souza Farm had been in the family for generations. She wouldn’t give it up for millions.

“When she suddenly died without a will, I knew— I knew they were behind it,” I gritted. “Gran wanted to leave the farm to me and Ivy. She said as much to them a thousand times, so why wouldn’t she have made a will?

“I pushed for the sheriff to investigate. He couldn’t see past the old lady with a heart problem passing out in the sun. Open and shut. I harassed him every day for weeks to do a full autopsy, till he finally told his officers to throw me out if I walked into the station again. Desperate, I drained my first-year tuition money to pay for an independent autopsy.”

“What did it say?” he asked when I didn’t go on.

“Murder. My grandmother was poisoned with digitalis. It caused a fatal heart attack.” I dropped my head, breathing hard. “With no will and the farm in debt, ownership reverted to the bank, and they sold to AgriProspects.”

“Fucking bastards.”

Perfect sentiment but I couldn’t stop to acknowledge it. I started my story, I had to keep going.

“I forced into the station with the autopsy report, throwing my proof in his face, and ordering him to arrest Andrew Clein. The man who flew in and set up in town with the express instructions to get our farm.

“Sheriff Jack took the report and said he’d investigate—re-open the case.”

“But he didn’t.”

“No.” My voice shook, but not with grief. “He destroyed it. Buried it. I don’t know. All I know is when I came back asking if he’d made an arrest, he pretended he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. I tried to call the medical examiner, and the phone rang and rang. No one has seen her since. He covered it up, Roan. My gran was murdered... and the sheriff covered it up.”

“I see why you hate him. Actually, hate’s too small a word, isn’t it?”

“The word doesn’t exist yet,” I spat. “I was furious. Raging. I took it out on everything and everyone, and then one day, I snapped. I burst into AgriProspects’ headquarters, found Andrew Clein, and beat him with his own phone. It took five people to pull me off him. After, I was sent away to a hospital. Doc Nash looked after me. He prescribed me pills when I got home that put me in a permanent fog.

“I can’t remember exactly what happened during that time except for one clear memory.” My tear dripped down my nose, painting my lips. “The night Ivy left.”

“What happened?”

“Who knows what set it off. Something small that spiraled out of control too quickly. She said we’d done everything we could do, and now we had to forgive and move on. It was what Gran would want. She’d hate seeing me as I was, broken and consumed with revenge.

“I called her a traitor. Said she didn’t love Gran or she would’ve been right there next to me, beating Clein’s head in. I said she always wanted to get off the farm and leave Bedlam, and she was glad Gran’s dead because nothing was holding her back. Then I told her to get the fuck out, and she did. It was a t-terrible thing to say.” My chest heaved, rocking in sobs. “I wish I could blame the drugs, but that was all me, cutting down the only family I had left.”

I swiped a rough hand across my face. “It was a while before I decided to get off the pills and work on getting my life back. In that time, AgriProspects ran out of money and never got their hands on the farm. I’ve been trying to get it, and Ivy, back ever since.” I met his gaze. “Why did I tell you all of this? Because that’s your answer, Roan. Anything. I’d do anything to protect my home and my family.”

Roan laced our fingers together. “Are you in this with us, Rain?”

I thought of Jeremy. Foundry. Sheriff Jack. The Letter Man.

“Whatever it takes.”