The Bedlam Boys: Complete Series

Riot Kings | Chapter One

Cairo stepped inside. “What the fuck was that—” His expression changed, eyes falling on Bella. “Holy shit, Rain, what did you do?”

“Me?!” My heart rended in two—both pieces screaming agony as they died. I asked it not be Cairo. Let the Letter Man be anyone else but Cairo, Roan, Arsenio, Jacques, or Legend.

I scrambled for another bow, aiming for a dead-on strike.

“You did this! You— You—” Understanding dawned. “You knew I didn’t kill Axel Verlice. Of course you fucking knew. So, you killed Bella.”

That gorgeous, perfect face remained fixed in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about? Once again there’s a body and you’re standing there holding a bow. I figured the first time you had no choice, but this...” He shook his head at my dying friend. “You really do have a taste for killing.”

Fury eroded my veins, spilling hot blood that rushed to my head and cheeks. “That’s not going to work. You don’t get to blame me for this— Don’t move!” I drew back, narrowing on his heart.

He halted, though no trace of fear shone in his eyes.

“Why did you do this?” Brushing against Bella’s shoulder, tears dripped down my chin. “You didn’t have to do this to her. Bella was good. Kind. How could you?”

Cairo flicked from me to her. “Rain, let me make this clear: I did not kill this woman. I don’t know her. Now why don’t you make clear why you think otherwise?”

The arrow shook. “I said that’s not going to work,” I hissed. “Nice shoes, Sharpe.”

“My shoes? What the fuck are you on about?”

“Those are the same black shoes the Letter Man wore— I said don’t move.”

Cairo kept coming, advancing on me, predator’s glint in his green pools. He reached for me, and I fired.

“Fuck!” Diving out of the way, the arrow caught his shoulder, ripping a tear through fabric and skin. Cairo flashed and snatched my bow before I readied another to finish the job.

“I don’t know who the fuck the Letter Man is, Rain!” He flung the bow behind him. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“You tell me,” I said, backing away. “What are you doing here?”

“You’ve been gone for hours. You didn’t pick up your phone.” Cairo pushed to his feet, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “I’ve long since learned when I can’t find my pet, it means she ran back home.”

Watching me backing away, Cairo probed Bella’s neck. He cursed under his breath. “What happened here?” His gaze continued to the kitchen, and the setup rigged to kill Bella the moment I entered. “Explain. Now.”

Chest heaving, I replied, “I was told to come here by the man who’s been tormenting and fucking with my life for weeks, after he took over for his buddy Cavendish. He said we’d meet tonight... then you walked through the door.”

“I am not the man you came here to meet. Or the man, I assume, who killed this woman.”

I wasn’t giving in that easily. Not while Bella’s blood stained the floor. “Then why are you wearing those shoes, Sharpe? Why are you dressed like that?”

“I had an invitation to dinner. The boss has a dress code,” he said simply. “You done interrogating me? Ready to share what the fuck is going on?”

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“Promise me!” I cried. “Promise you had nothing to do with this. Swear you’re not him.”

“That’s it? A promise is going to convince you after this!” He motioned to his bleeding wound. “Should’ve said that from the fucking beginning, woman. I promise.” The furious oath was a dagger through me. “I did not do this, Rain. I don’t play these games. Not with you.

“With you I don’t have to.”

I didn’t want them to. I fought through my rage and grief to hold it back, but deep down, his words were penetrating.

“I came here to find you. No other reason,” he said, “and as a result I’m getting my blood all over a crime scene. Tell me why.”

“Bella,” I rasped. “Bella, she—”

I broke down, collapsing sobbing on the floor. I think I went on trying to tell Cairo what happened, but he couldn’t understand me, and I couldn’t understand at all.

Why had the Letter Man done this? It wasn’t enough he held her life over my head. It wasn’t enough to torture me and demand more blood on my hands. In the end, he punished my deceit by making me what I refused to be.

It was me who loosed the arrow that ended her life. He forced me to kill her.

He made me watch her die.

Hands circled me, lifting me up.

“No.” I was carried out. “We can’t leave her. Cairo, we can’t—”

“Shh,” he crooned. “We’re not going far. You need to tell me the whole story, and you can’t do that next to her.”

Cairo dropped the tailgate and set me on the truck bed. He walked away, making me cry out, but soon returned carrying a first aid kit. He dropped it on my lap.

“Fix your mess while you talk.”

Cairo climbed in the back and tugged me sniffling after him. Leaning against the truck, he winced shoving the torn fabric down.

The gash wasn’t too deep but still nasty. He waited, expecting me to care for him. It took some time for my shaky hands to pry off the lid, and take out the bandages and antiseptic.

A grimace was all he afforded me as the liquid bathed his wound.

“Talk,” he ordered.

It came slow, but it came. “Months ago, I started receiving these letters on my doorstep. Creepy, terrifying rants and riddles warning me that if I didn’t find and kill them before Ruckus Royale, they’d choose someone to sacrifice that night.”

I dabbed around the cut, cleaning the blood. Somehow, the task was calming me—giving me something to focus on.

“You know how that story ended,” I whispered. “I discovered the man was Cavendish and his victim, Jennifer Wilson. He said either he died that night or Jennifer did. I chose Jennifer and a text with her location came less than twenty minutes after he died.

“I rescued her and got to believe for all of one night that it was over. That was until I came home and found another black letter on my porch.”

“Black letter?” Cairo sat up straight. “He’s been sending you black letters?”

“Yeah,” I replied, stilling at the intense look on his face. “Why?”

Cairo drifted off, staring through the trees. “Black letters come to those wise enough to untangle the prose,” he whispered. “Black letters come to men who remember who served them when. Black letters come with a price. Remember what you owe. Bow to the sacrifice.”

A chill gripped my spine. “Cairo, what was that? Why did you say that?”

“Not me,” he muttered, eyes glazing. “It’s something my father used to say.”

“Your father?” Hatred rose in me as it always did at the mention of Jack Sharpe. “The sheriff?”

“When he was drunk, I’d hear him mumbling it to himself. I asked him once what it meant and he said it was an old Bedlam nursery rhyme.”

“A nursery rhyme? What kind of nursery rhyme tells children to worship a sacrifice?”

“The same kind that has children singing about the plague and babies in cradles falling out of trees,” he said. “Most rhymes are fucked up, Rain, but they all mean something. I figured that one had to do with the revolt and haven’t thought about it since,” he said, focusing on me. “But you’re saying that’s what Cavendish and his friend have been sending you. Black letters.”

I nodded slowly, thinking over the words. “Yes. And it’s like the rhyme. Or it was with Cavendish. He gave me a riddle, forcing me to untangle the prose. And what else did it say? Men that remember who served them when. Who served who? Why have I never heard this before?”

Cairo guided my hands back to the cut. “We didn’t exactly sing it every morning during preschool carpet time. It’s just something he used to say. The real question is, are these fucks copying the rhyme, and why? Why did Cavendish choose you, Rain? The truth,” he said to my headshake.

“I don’t know. I never knew,” I said. “I asked and he rambled like a nutcase, saying something about my ancestors abandoning the fight but this time I wouldn’t. They both acted like they knew me.”

“Did you know Cavendish?”

“I never even spoke to the fucking man. That day you picked us up outside his house was the first we met face-to-face.”

“Do they think you’re someone else? Or are they making you pay for someone else?”

I finished cleaning him and pressed the bandage to his skin. It was soaked through in seconds. Cairo needed a real doctor and stitches.

“They mentioned your ancestors. What if this was never really about you?” Cairo gripped my hand, stopping me reaching for another bandage. “You’d be surprised how many of us in this town are paying penance for our fathers’ sins.”

“Maybe I am,” I said softly. “But it’s not my father, or his mother, or his mother’s mother who is receiving these letters. It’s not them who got their friend killed. It’s me. Whatever started this, it’s about me now.”

“Who was she?” Cairo was still holding my hand. I slid up his palm, linking fingers as slick with his blood as mine.

“Bella was the night manager at the motel. She was sweet, Cairo. She didn’t deserve this. It’s all my fault,” I said so softly the wind took my confession.

“Why her? Did you get another riddle? You didn’t kill him in time.”

“It wasn’t him I didn’t kill. He ordered me to choose an innocent person at random and make their death trending news on Dante’s show. So I told him that I killed—”

“—Axel Verlice.” Cairo sat up straight. “And he killed her anyway?”

“He knew I tricked him.”

His brows snapped together. “That’s not possible. The only people who know who truly killed Verlice are the six of us.”

“That’s not true,” I said, wiping my face. “There’s also the person on the other end of the phone who told the Bedlam Boys to kill Axel Verlice.”

Cairo’s expression wiped blank. “You don’t know anything about that person, and you’re going to forget they exist. Forget them,” he barked when I opened my mouth. “They didn’t do this anyway. Trust me, they have nothing to gain by torturing you and murdering night managers. This is something else.”

“Then, how did the Letter Man know?”

“Verlice’s place was trashed and the man’s skull was beaten in with a pool cue. Possibly, they found out the details of his death and figured you didn’t jump from careful plans and containers in the sand to Arsenio,” he said simply. “Whoever Cavendish and his friend really are, they’re not stupid, or we would’ve found them out a long time ago.”

I nodded, sinking down onto the bed. “You’re right. The arrow in the heart was me, but they must have figured out the rest was someone else. I thought I was being clever, and Bella died for it. What do I do, C-Cairo?” The words stuck in my throat. “How do I tell her father what I’ve done?”

“You’re not going to.” Cairo climbed out of the truck. “No one is going to know you were involved.”

“But—”

“Listen. You don’t know who did this, but while they’re playing this sick game with you, they’re not trying to kill you,” he said. “If the game ends, who knows what the fuck this psycho will do, and we don’t know who he is to see him coming. You can’t go to my dad talking about Letter Men and burning Cavendish alive. If he doesn’t flat-out arrest you, it’ll get very dangerous for you in Bedlam, very fast.”

“Bella,” I whispered.

“We won’t leave her like this. I’ll tell the sheriff I came out to an abandoned farm to fuck around and interrupted Bella’s murder. The guy attacked me.” He gestured to his shoulder. “And got away. I didn’t see his face, but going by the arrow, he’s connected to Cavendish’s death.”

I was listening even if I couldn’t move. “Do you think that will work?”

“Yes. The sheriff won’t blink an eye. His officers will work the scene. They’ll find any evidence if it’s there and look into Cavendish’s background on their own. She will have justice. By Judge Stone’s hands, or ours.”

“Okay.”

My voice was small. I was small—curling in on myself, pressing my forehead to my knees. Bella’s cries. Her bulging eyes begging me to stop played on a horrific loop in my mind.

“Let’s go.” Cairo lifted me up. He groaned in pain but kept up till he placed me on the passenger seat. “You can’t be here when the sheriff arrives. I’m taking you back. The guys will take care of you while I handle this.”

“I... should drive,” I said, though I still didn’t move.

“Sleep, Rain.” He gently closed my eyes. They stayed close. “This won’t happen again. The shit finally made the mistake that’s going to end him. No one messes with what’s mine.”

His possessive kiss stole my lips—the final send-off pushing me off the cliff. I sank into the darkness, where the Letter Man waited.

JACQUES

“Cavendish ordered his own execution.” I repeated it, and for the points stacked against my IQ, it made no damn sense. “He asked to be burned alive?”

“I don’t know that he specified the how,” Legend said, voice not carrying. He glanced in his room where Rainey was an unmoving mound beneath his sheets. “According to Cairo, it wasn’t just that he threatened to kill Jennifer Wilson. He ordered Rainey to kill him to save her life. Afterward, another deranged fuck took over.”

I softly shut the door, leaving her to sleep. Legend followed me down to the kitchen, silent and allowing me to think.

I can’t imagine what he thought was going on in my head that was different than his. I had no obscure theories to recall. My mind wasn’t a source for abnormal psychology.

This was new.

“How did it start?” I asked. “Why?”

“Cairo got as much out of her as he could. Rainey said she didn’t know him. Cavendish was a stranger to her, and she can’t begin to guess who this new guy is.”

Legend pulled ingredients from the fridge, preparing to make a late-night meal. People marvel that a young wealthy man knew how to cook as well as Legend did. But then people were ignorant creatures who based their conclusions on stereotypes instead of reason and observation.

Learning to cook and become self-sufficient was the logical path for a person with absentee parents, who frequently lost nannies and housekeepers for refusing to pay them a salary suited to the amount of work they made them do. Legend spent a considerable amount of time in his formative years in this mansion alone. He had to learn to cook. No one else was doing it for him.

“That doesn’t follow,” I said. “If this is a personal vendetta, naturally they cannot be strangers. Their paths will have crossed at some point and set off the chain of events that led them here. If de Souza doesn’t know the direct cause, then there must have been an indirect one. Example, she ran over Cavendish’s little sister in a hit and run, and didn’t know she had a brother. There must be something,” I repeated.

“Only one fault in that logic.” Legend brought out the cutting board. The onion reduced to mince under his knife. “A vengeful brother would light her on fire. He wouldn’t give her a choice between killing him and a random woman. The plan clearly wasn’t to have her arrested for his death either. His accomplice continued the sick game instead of turning her over to the cops.”

“You’re correct.” I dug my palms into my temples, clenching my teeth as pressure built behind my eyes. “This does not correlate to the majority of revenge killings. Why are both of these people determined to make Rainey de Souza a killer?”

“What do we actually know about Rainey in the first place?” Legend’s voice was growing small. “I remember the times she came to the distillery, rattling in the back of the truck with the corn delivery. She’s not lying about the farm or the old woman who rode with her...”

Sound blotted out. I opened my eyes, and rising towers of cabinets met me.

Some called this a memory palace. I liked to think I wasn’t that pretentious. It was a simple receptacle for that which must be stored. In all instances, that described a storage room. Not a palace.

Rainey de Souza.

Rainey: English girl name meaning queen. Uncommon.

I did not go deeper down the aisle connected to names and meanings. Irrelevant trivia. If any name was to be important, it was de Souza.

De Souza: name originated from Sousa River in northern Portugal. History of name in Bedlam...

I took five steps, passed smaller cabinets, and turned down an aisle housing the history and families of Bedlam, once Crystal Canyon.

My fingers twitched, moving with me as I flipped through the folders, searching, searching, searching—

Here.

I withdrew the first instance of their name, sinking into my four-year-old memory. Mother is sitting on the couch, laying my flashcards on the kitchen table. I kneel on the carpet, glancing up at the television in the interval.

“—local couple passed in the accident on Chaney Bridge. Hudson and Aria de Souza. They leave behind two little girls and a family that will love and miss them dearly—”

I pulled out of the memory, letting the flood of information it sparked pour in.

That accident was caused by a drunk driver swerving into the wrong lane. That driver was a wasted nineteen-year-old, and he wasn’t killed, only Rainey’s parents were. There was no logical or illogical way to look at that tragedy and find fault with Rainey or her family. That could not be the catalyst that started all of this sixteen years later.

But I have the correct file. This is the right family.

I scanned for something recent in connection with Rainey herself. I came up with nothing. Rainey’s path may have crossed the person she called the Letter Man, but it did not cross mine.

I abandoned that and continued up the family tree. I unearthed a line in an old Dante byline of the Bedlam Journal:

This year’s rulers of Ruckus are Gabriel Lopez, Lincoln Wilson, Anne Thompson, and Elias de Souza.

“Date,” I hissed. The pressure built, bearing down on my skull as I forced the eighteen-year-old me to look up, see the date, remember. Come on.

He looked up, lighting on April 14, 1969.

“1969,” I said to Legend. He was still in the middle of creating what I knew would become French bread pizza. “Dante named an Elias de Souza a Ruckus King.”

“Interesting. What does that make him? Rainey’s grandfather?”

“Or a great-uncle.”

“Anything happen that year?”

I shook my head. “An event that could lead to what is happening now would be closer to the surface. Easy for us all to recall. Some Royales were broken up by the cops. One was hosed out in 1976 when revelers set a fire that got out of control. Nothing special happened that year.”

“Nothing that we know about,” he corrected. “Who were the sacrifices? Maybe Cavendish’s grandpa ended up on a stake.”

“A family member’s humiliation is not enough to motivate a young member to give his life avenging them. None of the sacrifices died that night. We were first in Royale history to lose one.”

“Again I say, that we know of. Something could’ve happened that night that no one knew about. Something they covered up,” he said. “Rainey said she and her sister were never allowed to go to the Royales. Their grandmother kept them in. If her husband or brother was happy to take part and be a King, what caused her hatred of the party years later?”

I nodded, going down another aisle. “Your reasoning is sound. There is something going on that none of us knows about. Not even Rainey herself. But if she can’t give us insight, we have no way of understanding who or why this man has targeted her. It is safe to assume Elias de Souza is either dead or incapacitated, otherwise Rainey would’ve had someone to reach out to when this began.”

“Most likely,” he agreed. “I’d like to say this isn’t our problem, but—”

“—it will be if she finds out.”

His clenched jaw and neck were visible from across the island. “Some freak-ass death cult press-ganging pretty farm girls into burning men alive. That’s the kind of thing that gets a town noticed. She’ll order us to put them down if she gets word.”

“Or put down Rainey.”

Legend’s gaze drifted up, peering through two floors to where our pet slept. “Yes. Or her.”

“I’d rather she not die,” I said, and found I meant it.

“Same. The girl can take a paddle as good as Roan,” he said. “Plus, I get hard just thinking of that hot little mouth. I’ve been lying through my fucking teeth saying she isn’t good at blow jobs.”

My pants tented. I can imagine.

And imagining was all I was doing. All logic and reason dictated there was no sight more delicious than Rainey de Souza on her knees, glaring defiantly even as those ivory cheeks readied for another slap. She said it would do me good to slip in a few treats amid my health shakes. What the hell else did you call my morning dates with her?

“I find out she isn’t as inexperienced as she claimed,” Legend continued, “I’m hunting down every bastard that got there before me.” Legend made a harsh noise in his throat, tearing the bread in half harder than needed. “Listen to me. Roan and I have been in an open relationship for five years. He’d fuck people in front of me and I didn’t give a shit. Now this chick shows up and I get all... possessive. How the hell does that happen?”

When you figure it out, let me know.

“She’s ours now,” I said simply. “She goes when we say, and some twisted, masked sociopath isn’t about to change the rules. It can’t get out what we’re dealing with, but we may need her help all the same. My knowledge isn’t sufficient. What I know of the de Souza family ends with a news report and a line in a paper. She knows everything about the history of Bedlam. She could have something to say about the letters.”

“I’ll do the asking,” Legend replied. “I have to see her tomorrow anyway. She wants an update on the Crows.”

“We don’t have one to give her. Roan sowed doubt, but the cattle got a taste of freedom. They won’t go back in the barn that easily.”

“At this point, they can go wherever the hell they want as long as it’s not to the Crows. Foundry’s close to getting their way. Closer than we wanted to admit.”

“Close is all they will ever be,” I said, finding my way down another aisle in my mental sanctuary. “Roan has an accurate assessment of the situation. If we strike back at the Crows, Steven Ellis, or Foundry’s board with violence, we’ll be the main suspects. Riding out of town on a prison bus won’t protect Bedlam if the information has gone wider than those people. We can’t guess how many know at this point.

“Even so, I count five—make that six options for forcing them out and making the thought of setting foot in Bedlam again vacate their bowels. No violence required.”

Legend gave me a look, grin twisting his lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Why do you think they weren’t plan A?”

“Any way we could work it in?” His knife cleaved the pepperoni in two. “I’ve got workers threatening to strike. Jeremy Ellis will leave our town, and he’ll be carried out.”

“Three options allow for physical harm that won’t be traced back to us.”

“Those three,” he said. “Tell me about them.”

RAINEY

I woke up the next morning, head pounding and mouth stuffed with cotton. I glanced at the clock and grimaced. I both slept too long and woke too early. Sleep that was fitful and plagued with nightmares.

The sun wasn’t up yet. Through the gloom, I made out Roan and Legend on either side of me. Roan lay on his stomach, bare ass exposed with my lifting the blankets. He slept naked as I’d come to learn with his joining me and Legend in bed. Legend opted for silk drawstring pants. There would always be something of the proper gentleman in him—even when I woke to him fisting his cock through the waistband.

I gazed at them unseeingly. I didn’t wake to them climbing in with me. Usually, I fell asleep after them. As in, after they had their fun with me. What did it say that they couldn’t bring themselves to bother me?

It says they all know about my one-sided battle with the Letter Man, and the coldest, most uncaring men in Bedlam pity me.

What did I tell Paris? Anyone who knows me for any length of time feels sorry for me.

I slipped out of bed and dressed silently in the dark. Shutting the door behind me, I padded downstairs, out the doors, and trudged past the grand fountain. I ended up on the sidewalk and kept going, heading toward the end of Bay Avenue.

I should look for Cairo. Find out what happened with his father and Bella. The thought floated through my mind, stirred no action, and dissipated.

The end of Bay Avenue tipped me out onto a grassy bank that led down and into the forest. Unlike most of the forest surrounding our town, this particular spot afforded a break in the trees that gifted a view of the canyon.

I sat down, resting my chin on my knees. Silent tears dripped down my legs.

I couldn’t go and speak to Cairo. To ask him if he was successful covering up my role in Bella’s death was a shame I couldn’t think of facing without wanting to throw myself in the canyon.

Bella deserved so much more than a terrifying, brutal death at the hands of a man who saw her as no more than a pawn on a chessboard. Her father deserved to know the full truth of why his daughter died.

The truth.

Would any of this have happened if I had told the truth? If I gathered Paris, Frankie, and Bella together that night like I planned and told them their lives were in danger? If I spent the last bit of money I had and hired a private investigator? Jack Sharpe could not be trusted, but someone could’ve helped me. They could’ve staked out the farmhouse, traced the letters, dug into the backgrounds of everyone connected to Cavendish.

All things an orphaned farm girl with only a bow to her name couldn’t do. But no. I ripped up a hank of grass and flung it. I let them scare me with threats and promises to reveal the truth of the body at Black Widow Hill that even I was afraid to know.

Bella was dead because of me. A truth so simple I couldn’t escape it. This was my fault, and there was no punishment I could endure that would grant atonement.

“What are you doing out here?”

I jerked. Whirling around, I landed on Jeremy crossing the bank, heading for me. I quickly wiped my face.

“What are you doing here?” I returned.

“I always come out here.” Jeremy stretched out next to me, propping back on his elbows. “I’ll say something for Bedlam, you’ve got us beat on this view. It’s nothing but bush and trees around Hunter’s Crest.”

I studied him. Was this what we did now? Small talk.

“You’ve got other things going for you,” I said slowly. “You’re three times as big as us. And you’ve got a zoo.”

“Caged wild animals suffering for the enjoyment of pasty gawkers. You’re right, I should run back to paradise.”

I might’ve cracked a smile if it was two years, two Letter Men, and too many losses ago. “Agreed. I don’t like zoos much either. Strange thing for a farmer to say,” I admitted, “but every day and everything we did was to ensure our animals were happy. Gran would say our job was to serve them, not for them to serve us. In return, we were allowed to benefit from what they offered. Life isn’t like that outside a farm,” I said, gazing out over the beautiful, perilous drop. “Out here it’s about nothing more or less than serving yourself.”

“That’s a dark worldview, de Souza. No wonder you’re out here crying alone.”

“Am I wrong, I ask the guy currently using me for his own ends.”

Jeremy grinned. “Touché. I’ve got no room to talk.”

We lapsed into an almost comfortable silence.

“It’s not about you and me, you know,” Jeremy spoke up. “We’re both serving someone else’s ends. We just happen to be caught in the middle.”

“Are you saying you won’t benefit when your father gets whatever he’s after from this town?”

He shrugged. “I’m saying that’s nothing to do with me or you, but this shit with the Bedlam Boys”—his tone changed—“that’s personal. I hope you have something for me.”

“What? Since we spoke less than twelve hours ago?” I spat. “No, I don’t have any verifiable information for you right now, Ellis. For fuck’s sake, you noticed I was crying. Does this really seem like the time for your vendetta?”

“I’m helping you.” Jeremy threw an arm around my shoulder. “It’s called a distraction. You said you’re not contractually required to help teach Banks a lesson. You’re right, but I’m hoping you can see your way to helping me out of the goodness of your heart. That guy told the world I was fucking my own brother,” he hissed. “If anyone deserves what’s coming to him, it’s Roan Banks.”

“Jeremy—” Something moved in the corner of my eye.

Cairo stalked around me, moving in front of us with a sneaking silence that would’ve impressed me if it wasn’t for the ferality in his eyes matching the beast his mimicked. He narrowed on the hand resting on my shoulder.

“Cairo...” Words failed me.

Cairo knew I signed the contract. While I knew he was still questioning if he could trust me. What he didn’t question was who I belonged to. I didn’t have to ask how he felt about finding me in a cozy spot cuddled up with his enemy. It was written in the snarl peeling back his lips.

“Leave,” he hissed.

“I would,” Jeremy sang, pulling me closer. “But someone has to comfort your girl. Poor thing was crying out here all alone.”

Rage welled up my throat, bitter and hot. “Don’t.” I shoved him off. “I’ve had enough of being caught in some soulless ass’s game. I’m not serving anyone today.”

“Whoa, easy. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He rubbed slow circles on my back. “I care about you, Rainey. I just want you to be—”

Cairo pounced. Jeremy was up and slashing his blade through the air before the cry was out of my mouth.

“You keep waving that toy like it’s going to protect you.” Cairo didn’t spare a look at the thing. “I can promise you, Ellis, you come near her again, nothing will.”

“Why wait, Sharpe?” He winked. “Might as well come at me now, because I’m definitely going to come near her again.”

“Guys, stop.” I shot between them, holding out my arms. “I cannot begin to describe how much I don’t fucking need this right now! I just lost one of the few people left in my life and I came out here to bawl my eyes out in peace. Either you go, or I’ll leave, but it does not get to be about you right now.”

Cairo snagged my wrist, snapping me to his chest. “You heard. Your beating is delayed in honor of mourning. Get going before I remember I’m not this gracious.”

“Fuck—”

“Jeremy,” I sliced in, flashing him a pointed look. “Go. Please.”

He lowered the knife. “I’ll go. Give you a chance to look after this girlfriend better than you did the last one. When he fucks it up, I’ll give you what you need, Rainey.”

I tried to remember Jeremy was smarting from the Bedlam Boys’ latest blow. It stayed me punching him in the face. So much for the both of us helpless in the middle of another’s war. This guy was more than happy to throw me over.

Jeremy strode off.

“Good deal,” Cairo said, “except you’re too busy giving my bitter ex and your brother what they need.”

Roaring, Jeremy charged him.

Cairo jumped out in front of me, squaring up, wicked grin lighting his features. They collided with an audible sound.

“Argh!” Jeremy’s knife flashed.

My wolf blocked the hit—snatching his arm with the other hand and twisting. Jeremy dropped the knife with a cry, then Cairo dropped him, wincing to reveal his shoulder was still a wreck. He bodily lifted him up and slammed Jeremy in the dirt. It was the last thing I saw.

I walked away, leaving them to fight and not sparing a glance back.

Cairo must’ve seen me leave the mansion. He came out to bring me back where I belonged, or to sit with me and share the news I’d been waiting to hear. When he was ready to do either of those things, I’d be waiting.

I passed Legend’s mansion and continued on, leaving Paris’s house behind as well. Paris would let me in and give me all the space I asked for, and the more I learned about Cairo’s relationship with his mother, I was almost certain those gates would stop him coming after me.

But it wasn’t that I wanted away from Cairo or the Bedlam Boys. It wasn’t about getting away at all. There was just somewhere I had to be.

Frankie wasn’t her usual cheery self when I stepped on the bus.

“Oh, Rainey, sweetie.” She squeezed my hand, halting me on the steps. “Don’t bother sitting down. I can’t take you out by the farm today. It’s a crime scene.”

Crime scene.

Sheriff Jack is there. Bella would be laid in peace and the authorities would search for her killer. I doubt the Letter Man was worried about me, but his ass should worry about that. He and his friend before him skulked around my farm for weeks, going on months. If there was a trace to be found, they’d find it. As far as I knew, Sheriff Fucking Jack didn’t have a reason to conceal evidence in this case.

“What happened?”

“The sheriff wouldn’t say. Just told me the stop was closed.”

“I’ll get off at the one before and walk. I have to go,” I said over her coming protest. “It’s my home, Frankie.”

Sighing, she dropped my hand, reaching for the gear. “I understand. I’ll drop you closer. Don’t let anyone know how you got there.”

“I won’t.”

It was a silent ride through town. Frankie’s natural mothering energy broadcasted in the worried looks she sent me in the rearview. She wanted to cheer me up or possibly talk me out of going. She could do neither of those things.

Frankie opened the doors on the side of the road, a short walk from the farm where my approach was shielded by the trees. I think I said goodbye. I wasn’t certain. The next thing I knew, I was skimming past the police car parked in front of my sign, heading into the copse that lined the long driveway.

My home rose on the hill, surrounded by police tape. I rested on the bark, observing Officers Davidson and Andres speaking to two crime scene techs, going by their white jumpsuits. Sheriff Jack stepped out onto the porch, and my jaw clenched as automatic as my grip on Roan’s throat at the suggestion he cheated on me. I’d never be able to stop my reaction at the sight of that man. Forever I’d hear him ordering his officers to bar me from the station, ignoring my pleas to investigate Gran’s death. Always I’d remember his blank, clueless stare as he denied receiving the autopsy report I placed directly in his hands—swearing on his badge he knew nothing of my grandmother’s poisoning.

Jack hefted his belt up his gut, saying something to his subordinates.

My fingers scraped the bark, digging splinters in my nail bed. I had to come to assure myself everything was being done for Bella, however, I underestimated the impact of seeing him again, in the flesh.

When my mind collapsed under the weight of grief and I rode out to Andrew Clein’s office, I made a stop along the way. At Jack Sharpe’s home, where I knew he went every day for his lunch break—the five-minute drive from the station allowing him to enjoy his pastrami and Coke on the couch.

I can’t say exactly what I planned to do to the armed elected officer of the law. I simply knew I wasn’t walking out of that house until it was done.

I got there and banged on the door. No one answered my pounding, so I got in the car and made for Clein.

Afterward, it was a thirty-day stay in a facility and Doc Nash’s drug cocktail for me. Sheriff Jack didn’t get a taste of the retribution I owed him—that didn’t mean he escaped it.

There was proof of what he’d done in the second autopsy I couldn’t yet afford, and the missing medical examiner I was still searching for. Once I had the latter testifying she gave me the same results as the former, I’d strip Jack Sharpe of everything that mattered to him. His shiny badge, his respected position, his little bungalow paid for by the town, and whatever relationship he had with his son. Everyone would see him for the rotted filth he was and then he’d spend the rest of his days in a cage with the men he locked away.

With him gone, they’d open a real investigation into Gran’s death. What happened to her will? Did Andrew Clein work alone, or did his bosses order him to acquire the farm by any lethal means necessary? Why did they choose our lives to destroy?

The sheriff made for my barn, Davidson on his heels. My phone buzzed, but I couldn’t relax enough to take it out until the man was out of my sight.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, I fished out my cell and it slipped through my fingers. I bent to get it and froze.

Crushed cigarette butts peppered the bed of moss, dotting the earth like raisins in a salad. My mind raced ahead of me, stealing my breath and me unable to move for the scenes tumbling across my vision.

This spot, next to this tree, was a perfect unobstructed view of the farmhouse and barn. Someone could stand here watching me go in and out, and concealed in wood, I’d have no idea they were there. Someone did stand here—long enough to burn multiple cigarettes down to nothing, and what about an abandoned farm would interest them other than the young woman who couldn’t stay away?

The Letter Man. This is how he knew when to leave his filth. He watched me come and go.

A shiver ran up my spine, making me physically convulse. Gagging, I clapped a hand over my mouth, forcing down the sounds. Forcing air into my lungs. The whole time he was here. Not Cavendish who gave no sign that he smoked during the days that I watched him. But my new tormentor—the beast who demanded I kill an innocent person and took Bella as the price.

He was here.

Calm down, Rainey. Think! I shoved myself up. I can use this. I finally know something about him he doesn’t want me to—

A hand clamped my mouth, smothering my scream as I was snapped to a hard chest.

“Let me make something clear to you,” hissed the deep, husky voice. “You don’t walk away from me. You don’t go anywhere without my permission.”

Seizing his fingers, I peeled them off one by one. “I thought the rule was I don’t go where you can’t find me. Didn’t look like you had that problem.”

“Rules change, baby.”

CAIRO

I dropped Rain in the dirt, tearing her panties off with the most satisfying sound. Through the trees, cops pleased to arrest us for disturbing their crime scene flitted about in their gloves and suits, looking important. I didn’t care an iota more about their presence than I did the damp earth ruining my new jeans or the cut that split my cheek as my fiery Rain swiped at me.

She’d give me what I wanted. She always would. But I’d fight for it like I’d done for nothing else in my life.

The next blind swipe I caught. Slamming her hand on the ground, I curled between her fingers—lacing them through the moss and soil—our mark a part of the earth.

Rain freed her other hand and closed on mine covering her mouth, keeping me in place for what we knew was coming.

I scratched my cock ripping my zipper down. It thrummed a dizzying gush of blood, draining reason and control, rock hard at the mere sight of her hair splayed over the roots. Thong in tatters beside me. Bare ass high and unwilling to deny me.

I shoved in and caught her groan in my hand, but I couldn’t catch mine. I couldn’t even stifle it to prevent our discovery.

There was nothing like being in the tight, wet paradise that was Rainey de Souza’s pussy. She mumbled smart-ass remarks about her ability to bathe herself when I carried her into the shower, but the fact was, it’s my capabilities that were the problem.

I couldn’t go more than twelve hours without being inside her. If I tried, I started to lose my sunny disposition.

My skin molded to hers—covering her body like the wolf she named me—mounting my mate.

“Fuck,” I hissed, pumping faster than I could handle. I had to slow down. Savor the feel. Relish her cries. Delight in her body instinctively curling in to reject the pain while Rain, law, and nature bent to accept more.

I moved faster still, balls tightening, muscles clenching to explode. My hand slipped off her mouth, letting those sinful pleas spill out.

“Cairo, please, no,” she moaned. “Not here. We c-can’t... do this here.”

I loosed a roar like a wild animal, both pleased and enraged at her denial. I slammed into her, lifting both our knees off the ground with each strike of the bull’s eye.

She choked, covering her own mouth, penning in a cry. “Fucking beast,” Rain spat. Defiance lit the single jeweled eye that found me. “I may be your cure... but you are definitely my curse.”

My grin split my face. “Save your money on the witches and talismans, baby, because I’m not going anywhere—”

Rain probably only caught part of that. Her eye rolled up in her head—pussy clamping down as the orgasm claimed her. I tried to swear and couldn’t even do that. My control surrendered to the same force that took her. I fell prostrate on top of Rain, biting her shoulder as a violent, mind-rending orgasm spilled its gift in her well.

She couldn’t hold my weight, and we collapsed in a sweaty pile in the dirt—two heaving mounds.

“How,” she breathed, “can you do these things with a hurt shoulder?”

Just mentioning the damn thing brought the pain flooding in. I winced, rolling off her to lie flat on my back. I wasn’t surprised to see I ripped open the stitches I made Doc Nash do at three in the morning. Blood soaked through my bandage.

Rain rolled to my other side, resting her head in the crook of my arm. The woman liked a cuddle after she was ravaged. I should discourage this. Her being mine and me being her boyfriend were not ideas that necessarily connected.

I looped my arm under her instead, dropping my hand on her ass. There were benefits in keeping my pet happy. Such benefits decorated my cock and Rain’s inner thighs.

“Did you see?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “Someone’s been hiding here, watching my Rain.”

“This is something, though, right? They put their mouth on those things. There’s DNA. Plus, now I know the new Letter Man smokes. That eliminates a few people off the top.”

“I’ll direct the old man this way.” I dragged us up. “We have to go. There might be footprints and other shit we’re trampling over.”

I dressed my girl, then scooped her into my arms, ignoring the pain as I carried her out. De Souza was a slippery one. Disappearing whenever I took my eyes off her. I’d have to do better at keeping her on the leash.

“Don’t come here alone again.” I was soundless moving through the brush, leaving my father and his officers behind. “I’m serious. Consider how often it was just the two of you out here alone, and you never knew.”

Rain’s shudder rippled over me. “I have,” she said, laying her head on my chest. “Makes me sick thinking of it. And it pisses me off. The whole time, he was that close.

“I won’t come out here alone, but I don’t want to drag you guys into this either. Whatever sick game this guy is playing, it was meant for two. He, and Cavendish before him, warned me against telling anyone about the letters. You said it yourself. If he comes after you, we won’t know who he is to see him coming.”

“I can take care of myself,” I dismissed.

“I can too and that didn’t stop him snatching me in the middle of the brawl.”

I jerked to a stop. “What? You said that shit stain Ellis took you.”

“No, you did,” she said, dropping down in sight of my truck. “The Letter Man drugged and hauled me away among dozens of witnesses.”

“What did he do to you?” The growl that leaked through my teeth unnerved even me. I’d taken the job of protecting Bedlam at all costs out of obligation. But this... Killing the man who dared lay a hand on what’s mine would add no weight on my conscience.

“Nothing. Nothing,” she repeated at my look. “He brought me here and left a letter saying he was proud of me for killing Axel Verlice. He must’ve learned differently after that.”

Rainey led me into the truck and took up work cleaning and changing my bandage. I paid it no mind under my racing thoughts.

This bastard took such a risk grabbing her in the middle of a crowd. Was it just to pat her on the head, or to prove he could get to her anytime, anywhere?

“How’d he know that was the time to do it?” I cast a glance back at the copse. “Is he always watching you? Home, school, here. The fight broke out and he saw a chance.”

“That’s the only thing that makes sense, but it doesn’t change that he came prepared. Something pricked my neck and I was out in seconds. Was he waiting for his opportunity and the perfect one just fell into his lap?”

I shook my head. “That’s too convenient. As convenient as another shady piece of garbage jumping on that chance to kill Roan.”

Rainey finished with my shoulder, so I started the car, taking off before Dad saw us. I was due another trip to the doc anyway.

“Why would someone want Roan dead? Other than the obvious reasons,” she muttered. “He gets off on riling people up, but who did he upset so much they rolled up on him with a knife?”

“Roan goes with me on collection runs. Like you said, he makes a tense situation worse. He also has access to the university’s database and security systems. We’ve used the records he’s dug up and the things he’s seen on the cameras to our advantage many times. Knowledge prevails where threats fail, Rain. Every time.”

“In other words, your enemies are too many to count and literally anyone in Bedlam could want to kill Roan for blackmailing and extorting them.”

“Basically,” I said mildly. I wasn’t about to say it another way. This didn’t bother me as much as my father and psych degree said it should. “But it still comes back to how oddly convenient it was you and Roan were presenting as easy targets the same day you were picked out for a knife and knockout juice.”

“You think they knew there was going to be a fight?”

“I think they knew there was going to be a crowd.”

Rain gasped, clamping down on my thigh. “Quinn and the New Boys. They were all geared up to ambush you on the deck, but when we didn’t show up, they and all their buddies took the showdown to the Green. Jeremy gathered those people beforehand. Told them it was time to take down the Bedlam Boys.”

“So Roan’s guy and yours suited up. We’d be outnumbered. Bodies and fists flying everywhere, you wouldn’t see it coming,” I said. “And you didn’t.”

“But it’s not like Jeremy hung a sign-up sheet in the quad,” Rain cried. “They had to keep that quiet so you guys wouldn’t find out.”

I turned off the road for the farm and drove down Marigold, heading straight to the clinic. “I also doubt the cowards invited Holly, the soccer mom, and Billy, the cafeteria worker, to the party.”

“That means—”

“—if this letter guy and Roan’s attempted assassin got the signal to show up, they’re both students.”

I didn’t need to see Rainey’s face to know she was gaping at me.

“Or teaching assistants,” I offered. “Possibly grad students. Either way, they’re connected to Bedlam University in some way.”

“You’re right,” Rain whispered.

I shot her a look. “Still think I shouldn’t be involved?”

“All right, sheriff’s son, I admit your deductive reasoning was helpful in this instance, but you being involved isn’t up to me. H-he—” Her voice cracked. “The Letter Man said people I love would get hurt if I defied him, and I can’t pretend that’s a threat he won’t carry out. Not after last night.”

She gestured between us. “We can do this. Talk. You can steer your father in the right direction and let me know if he finds anything, but you can’t get in the middle of me and the Letter Man, Cairo. Not you, Roan, Legend, Jacques, or Arsenio. I couldn’t live with myself if another person died because of me.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to say she didn’t make the rules.

I held it back.

Rainey had proven she didn’t bluff either. I walked in on her once, trying to kill herself. I wouldn’t let the fucking thought enter her head a second time that everyone would be safer if she took herself out of the equation.

“I’ve done this for a long time, Rain. No one is going to know anything that we don’t want them to know. This letter guy included.”

She eased her grip on me, turning her attention to stroking my thigh. In spite of the serious conversation and the threats that went with them, my trouser snake reared its head, heeding her call. I didn’t waste time with feelings like shame, so none of that accompanied his insatiable need. I did bite back a wave of anger at the fact I wouldn’t be able to give the junkie another hit.

Between my fight with Jeremy and my fight with Rain, my shoulder was wrecked and the pain pills I forgot to take were reminding me why the doc said to down them first thing in the morning.

The road spun.

“You’re going to have to drive,” I said, pulling off the road. “And wake me up.”

My head hurtled toward the dash—black blotting it out before I hit.