Chapter Five
Cairo
“Whoo, baby. Tell me about the look on his face one more time.”
Laughing, she dug deeper in my temples, making my lids heavy.
This had become our routine. Day or night, I got my girl in a bath and treated myself to every soapy inch of her. Afterward, we stretched out in the tub while her fingers did their magic.
She was under the impression that our current incarceration in my mother’s house changed the routine. Why she thought I wouldn’t fuck her here was anyone’s guess, but I rid her of that idea twice in a closet and once on the bathroom floor.
“I thought he was going to piss himself. So much for rich boys not caring about losing their cars.”
“He still think you’re on his side?”
“Yeah.” She nestled my head between her breasts without stopping. “He’d know something was up if I was willing to forgive and forget that easily. He and the Crows knocked us around. The retribution had to communicate my displeasure.”
I went rigid at the mention. Rain sensed it and massaged slower.
“He’ll think this makes us even. Just tell me what to do to make us even for real.”
“There’s an event we used to throw in high school. Next time you meet up, tell him what he needs to hear to get him there. I’ll take it from there.”
“Okay.”
Rainey’s spider fingers crawled up my forehead. Even that was fucking soothing.
“Where’d you learn this stuff?”
“I had some epic tantrums when I was a kid. Screaming and carrying on for hours. Gran called them my thunderstorms,” she said. “She went through all the parenting books till she stumbled on this. Don’t know why it calmed me down when nothing else would, but it does. She’d do it whenever I had my stormy face on. It worked even when I didn’t want it to.”
I grunted something.
“I’m glad you like it.” She wrapped her legs around me. “It’s something else we have in common.”
“What else is on the list?”
“Cinnamon sugar bagels.”
That tugged a grin up my mouth.
“Sex,” she added.
“That’s a recipe for soul mates.”
Her laugh was light and warm in my ear. “Can I ask you something?”
“Does it have to do with Nora?”
“Yes.”
I flicked suds out of the tub. “Then ask away.”
“I won’t pretend I know what you’ve been through since she and Paris left. But she’s so happy you’re here. Is there no chance you two could have a relationship again?”
I rose up, getting out of reach of her siren’s grip. Facing her across the tub, I propped against the porcelain. “I plan on fucking you for the foreseeable future—”
“So sweet, Cairo.” Her foot stroked my pecs.
“—so you might as well understand the truth about Nora now,” I continued. “She likes life to be on the right side of perfect. Perfect education. Perfect career. The perfect jet-setting guy she falls in love with during the perfect trip to Egypt. All very romantic and shit. You could make a movie about it.
“But wait, the handsome Jack Sharpe isn’t so perfect. He hits the bottle a little too hard, has no ambition, and only went to Egypt because he was between jobs and didn’t know what else to do with his life. Don’t get me wrong, he worshiped the woman. Would’ve done anything to make her happy, but he just wasn’t quite—”
“—perfect,” she whispered.
I inclined my head. “She was fucking around with Isaac before I was a thought. It’s only by chance Jack’s sperm got there first. Nora got it right on the second try, and then she had the hook to make him leave his wife for her. Took a few years but she finally got it.” I swept the space. “Big house. Rich husband. Perfect daughter. Unfortunately, there was still me.”
“Paris said her father wouldn’t agree to custody of you.”
“Paris knows Nora’s version of the custody battle. Family court is backward and sexist, Rain. Constantly swinging rulings in the mother’s favor because of an outdated fantasy that pushing a kid out of your vagina magically transforms you into a nurturing feminine goddess. Those fools never met Nora. If she wanted me, her second husband couldn’t say shit about it. It wasn’t up to him.”
She defied my attempt to put distance between us and rested her chin on my chest. “What’s the real version?”
“I was ‘a behavior problem.’ Acting up at school. Picking fights. Throwing bags of dog shit at Isaac whenever that fucker was in range.”
Her eyes bugged. “You what?”
“Got the wettest and rankest just for him.”
“Cairo,” she cried, giggles leaking through her lips. “You pelted the man with shit?”
“Bet your ass. Got him three times in the same day once.”
She howled, shaking on top of me. A beat after I was laughing too. I said this woman was magic.
“Anyway, with all that going on, Nora stood up and told the judge the best thing for me was stability. A new home and stepfather were too much during this time of upheaval, and I was better off living with Jack. She’d revisit custody when I was ready. In other words, when I was willing to sit down, shut up, and play happy family.”
“I’m sorry, Cairo.”
She rubbed my chest, trying to seep comfort into my bones. Rain was ten years too late from the time that could’ve made a difference.
“So what’s all of this now? Is it possible she wants to reconcile? It’s not about custody anymore. You’re a grown man. Nora doesn’t have to care for you or be responsible for your actions. She can be a mother to you without... being a mother.”
I traced her lips. “You are perceptive, Rain. Hit it right on the head, and now I’m wondering if you already know this story,” I said. “Yes, that’s exactly why she’s playing the role now. Nora isn’t a favorite of the Bay Avenue wives. She stole one of their husbands and abandoned her kid like a puppy in a cardboard box.
“Wasn’t much she could do about that before since neither one of us wanted me in this house, but I’m twenty-one now. I can be her ‘baby’ again.”
“Oh, my wolf.” She kissed me. “I can throw dog shit at her if it’ll make you feel better.”
I cracked a smile against her lips. “Nah. I’m good. She lives her life, I live mine. Gotta be here right now for Paris, but a few more days and we’ll be out of here.”
“I’m coming too?” She pecked my mouth, nose, and cheeks.
“You’re with me. Always.”
She cheesed like I said I loved her. Why should I? She was saying it for me.
“Whatever you say.”
“Why weren’t you this agreeable in the beginning?” I positioned her over my cock.
“I’m not this agreeable now.”
“No? We’ll see about that.” I lurched forward, catching her bottom lip between my teeth. “Under the water, bitch. Suck my dick.”
She slapped me. “Fuck you.”
Rain shrieked as I leaped on her, sloshing half the water out of the tub. We wrestled ferociously—stiffening my cock painfully. I needed to be inside this woman like I needed her screams, her tears, her touch, her taste.
I bent her neck back, pressing my dick to her bared teeth.
Maybe this was love.
RAINEY
Roan crouched in front of the door, screwing in the new electronic locks complete with camera. Cairo stuck it out for a week in his mother’s house. I endured the frosty dinners—Nora chattering on about work and everyday life while Paris’s dad glared daggers at Cairo. He finally voiced his thoughts the night before, whipping out a snide comment about Paris transferring to another university where she couldn’t get caught up in Cairo’s messes.
“And birds wouldn’t fall out of the sky if I pissed rainbows,” Cairo replied. “How much other shit I’m not responsible for do you want to drop on me?”
His spoon clattered in his bowl. “You’re responsible for this! My daughter is upstairs broken and sobbing because you run around this town acting like the big, tough thug and decent people pay the price.”
“Boys, please,” Nora cried.
I sank in my seat, holding Cairo’s hand under the table.
“I knew it was a mistake to let her near you.”
“Real nice, Isaac.” An amused twist hung on his lips. “Take shots at me while I’m eating my soup. List your regrets at not doing a better job fucking up my family. After this, you plan on taking your red face and puffed chest to the Crows, and give it back to them ten times worse? No? Because I am.”
Cairo punched the table and toppled my wineglass.
“You can come at me for being a shitty older brother, but at least I’m not her sniveling, candy-ass father. I’ll make damn sure no one touches her again.” He leaned over the table. “And I’ve got a lesson for you too, next time you get in my face, Stepdaddy.”
We were out the next day.
Just as well, because we’re all-hands-on-deck installing new security in the Bedlam House, the mayor’s house, and Jacques’s mother’s house. Judge Stone and Mayor Creed both lived alone, and the Crows proved they didn’t know their limits.
I padded over to Roan, still wearing the ears from my latest trip to Arsenio’s house. He liked doing it there because there was more room to walk his pet.
“What’s this?” I picked up the notepad at his feet. Twenty or so names were written down. Jeremy Ellis at the top. “This isn’t a hit list, is it?”
“In a way, I’m writing all the people who want me dead. I keep it close for when another name pops in my head.”
“Roan, there are a lot of names here. All of these people can’t really want to stab you. What did you do to them?”
“Nicolas Everide. He got big and loud about refusing to pay and tried to get everyone on his block to join in. I threatened to tell his firm he was missing a few credits on his transcript, and that law degree in his office is fake. Plus, I fucked his wife.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Dare I ask about anyone else on the list?”
“You could. It would help me narrow it down if I got an outside perspective. Which of these people have I pissed off enough to kill me, and which just want to break my legs behind the Roadhouse?”
“Okay, I’ll help.” I dropped down next to him. “You were stabbed before you betrayed Micah and told the town his brother was screwing him. We can take them off the list.”
“I know it wasn’t them personally, but it could still be a Crow. We just found out he was stashing more of them in HC.”
“That’s true,” I muttered. “But why would Jeremy have come after you then?”
He flipped through his toolbox. Handy Roan was a sight to see, savor, and lock away for the next go with my vibrator—a gift from Roan.
He tied his wild waves back, letting the world fall into those swimmable pools unobstructed. A torn-sleeve shirt gifted me his muscles rippling as he drove the screws home, and every few seconds he smirked at me as though he was reading my mind.
“I’m an attractive target to take out first, honey lips.”
My face heated. It was my second pair of lips that Roan swore tasted like honey.
“I’ve got access to everyone’s records. The Crows included.”
“Did they know that at the time?”
He shook his head. “Can’t say exactly what they know, but it’s too much.”
We went through the list together, Roan adding more along the way. I eliminated a few people based on how long ago he wronged them. More than a year seemed a long time to wait to kill someone who walked around unguarded.
“Brooks works in the administration building,” I said. “He would’ve gotten to you before now if he was still upset with you for beating up his brother.”
“He was. I heard him shouting about it when the mob came for us.”
I paused with the eraser hovering over the name. “Never mind. We need to talk to him.”
“What about your psychopath? Any closer to finding out who Blake Jensen is?”
I hesitated. I hated lying to the guys, but I would not walk into another room and find Arsenio, Cairo, Jacques, Legend, or Roan tied to a chair, an arrow aimed at their chest. Everyone I cared about was under attack, it was safer for them that the Letter Man believed they weren’t included.
“Maybe,” I said. “I found out Cavendish volunteered at Westchester Youth Center. They don’t give out information about minors, so that’s as far as I got.”
“It’s a start. I’ll see what I can dig up on the kids who went there.”
I looked away. “You don’t have to. You’re trying to find the person who aimed a knife at your heart. That’s too important.”
“The shit stain who came after me is an opportunistic coward who ran off at the first chance and hasn’t had the balls to come for me since.” He tipped my chin, bringing me back. “The guy after you is a lot more dangerous. Finding him is most important.”
I couldn’t argue that.
“Just be careful. He’s made it clear I’d regret it if I brought people into our ‘game.’ This guy does not bluff.”
“I take whippings, not worry.” Light glanced off his sharpened canine. “Want to drive your warnings home, do it the right way.”
I lightly bit his finger, then not so lightly. “Why should you get a treat when you’re bad?”
Unsurprisingly, Roan convinced me he did deserve a treat. The locks were installed and we ended up in his room. I literally rode him across the floor, smacking his ass with a riding crop to the tune of his sweet, seductive groans.
My phone went off.
“Leave it.”
“The Crows are on a rampage,” I said. “I can’t ignore calls. What if someone’s hurt?”
He grabbed my ankle. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
I swatted his left cheek. “I thought I give the orders? Let go. Now.”
He did, and let me make it all of two steps.
Roan tackled me onto the bed, pulled handcuffs out of nowhere, and secured me to the bedpost. I came screaming into the pillow by the eleventh strike of the crop.
The phone call got lost in my memory after that. We messed around for hours, then passed out. It wasn’t until my midnight snack in the kitchen, eating ice cream out of the carton in Roan’s sleeveless shirt, did I remember.
It waited for me on the nightstand. I tapped it awake and Gold flashed on the screen.
My heartbeat skipped.
Henry said he’d call when he had news. It had been less than forty-eight hours. What did he find so soon?
I went outside to listen to his message.
“Miss de Souza, call me back as soon as you get this. I mean it. Don’t worry about the time.”
I called him back immediately.
“Hello?”
“Miss de Souza.”
“Please, call me Rainey.”
“Rainey,” he corrected. “It’s late and I’m certain you don’t need the preamble, so I’ll get right to it. You’re right about this starting with your grandmother.”
I hadn’t realized I was still clutching the ice cream till it splattered on my feet. “What? How?”
“I started from the beginning, as you suggested. AgriProspects was the company you knew about because they were up front with their menacing and harassing. Others hid behind paper.”
“Hid behind paper?”
“I found multiple suits and claims against Abigail de Souza. Some citing animal cruelty. Some child abuse and neglect. One went so far as to say she was mentally unfit and needed a court-assigned guardian to handle her affairs.”
“She what?” I cried. “That’s insane.”
“It is,” he said, voice hard. “This is above and beyond, Rainey. It’s obvious someone was gunning for her relentlessly. Half of these accusations would’ve landed her in jail, and you and your sister in a foster home. Most importantly, it would’ve gotten you all off the farm.”
“But why? It’s nothing special,” I half shouted, tears welling in my eyes. “It’s just a fucking farm!”
“We’re not seeing the whole picture yet, but we will. That’s why I said to call me back any time. I’m in my office right now, going further up your family tree to the initial land sale. Maybe there’s something at the start of this. Another party involved who was cheated.”
“And the great-great-great-grandson decided to even the score? This farm’s been in my family for six generations. It’s ours.”
“I don’t have the answers right now, but I will,” he said calmly. “We’ll figure this out.”
“The answer is with AgriProspects, isn’t it? Were they behind the lawsuits against Gran?” I asked. “And how did we get on their radar? I’ve always wondered that. Can you look into a connection between the company and someone here in Bedlam?”
“What kind of connection?”
“A law firm. An accounting firm. A CEO who’s the long-lost brother of our old neighbor, Silas. There’s a reason they came after us and everyone seems to know it but me.”
“I’ll look into it,” he replied. “You said right now the farm is up for sale. Give me the name of the estate agent, and I’ll find out if any companies have approached her with an offer.”
“I can tell you what Cruella won’t. Steven Ellis is buying the farm. We have a contract that he’ll transfer ownership to me the day the sale goes through.”
“A contract? In exchange for what?”
“I have to do a job for him,” I said simply.
“Would you mind faxing me a copy of that contract?”
“I’ll do it now. The library is open twenty-four hours for late-night studiers.”
“Excellent,” he said. “Have you received another letter?”
I checked the mailbox to be sure. “No, nothing yet. I’ll call you when the next one comes. I have a terrible feeling about what it’ll say.”
“You won’t be forced to hurt anyone, Rainey. If your stalker is working with someone in the police, there is a way we can do this that doesn’t get the local force involved. You just have to trust me, and don’t try to do this alone.”
“Trust me,” I said, thinking of Bella. “I’m done underestimating him.”
“I’m standing by for your fax. Goodbye.”
“Bye.”
Stuffing my phone away, I grabbed the knob to go inside. Movement flickered out of the corner of my eye.
I stopped, peering at the Sigma Kappa house across the street. Their house neighbored a copse of trees and bushes that provided cover for the many parties they threw and the illegal activity going down during them.
I thought I saw...
...someone duck into the trees.
Why would a frat boy do that at one in the morning?
I backed inside, closing and sliding in all the new locks.
I called Gold back.
“Hey. I’ll fax you the contract in the morning.”
I LEFT EARLY THE NEXTday to head to the library. That left me plenty of time to grab breakfast, find a quiet spot in the student union, and stick in my headphones.
Dante poured in my ears.
“—all heard the news Jonah transferred out of Bedlam U. Should we take this as an admission of guilt or an innocent man fleeing rumors and suspicion? No one likes the question game, so here’s your answer: NDAs and hush money couldn’t put this secret back in the box, like it did the first time.
“My sources confirm Jonah assaulted that girl, then used Daddy’s money to pressure her and her family into settling out of court. It’s a good thing he fucked off on his own. He was leaving our town one way or another.”
I slurped on my mango banana smoothie, listening with half an ear. Dante didn’t need to confirm for me that the Crows were bad news.
Nelson rounded the corner and claimed a seat at a study table three down from mine. I waved but he didn’t see.
“—Paris Keller.”
I promptly forgot about Nelson.
“Witnesses say six guys in ski masks rolled up on her and Rainey de Souza. It wasn’t a fair fight in any way,” he said. “It just so happens the Crows added two new guys to their crew recently. But that’s just a coincidence, right?
“Jeremy Ellis said it is the other day on the deck. He asked if those witnesses saw crow tattoos. Ellis even floated the accusation that they were framed by a certain group of guys that would do anything to run them out and stop the town from splitting. Rainey is the Bedlam Boys’ girl and Paris is Cairo’s sister. Maybe the ladies agreed to take a beating for the cause.”
My jaw dropped. Jeremy said what? That two-faced lying dickhead can beat me and Paris in the street, but he can’t face up to it in the open.
“I put a poll on my website asking you guys to chime in on those responsible.”
Website? Since when did Dante have a website?
“It’s open for three more days on Dante’s Den dot com.”
I immediately pulled out my laptop and typed it in.
“After voting closes,” he continued, “I’ll release the poll asking what punishment you feel this attack on our own deserves. Write-ins allowed.”
Clicking the top result for the search, black flooded my screen. I squinted at a small spec of white in the middle. I stared at it and it stared at me—the spot growing bigger and its skull eyes finding me through the laptop.
I hit enter scrawled across its face, and the curtains drew back, revealing a simple website with a tab for past shows and one to contact him. The home page had nothing to say for itself except for a single question in bold white letters and the poll beneath.
Who attacked Rainey de Souza and Paris Keller?
The Crows: 71%
The Bedlam Boys: 20%
Neither: 9%
Incredible that anyone would believe Cairo would beat and strip his sister. As incredible as the idea she’d volunteer for the privilege to cast doubt on the Crows. It gave me hope that the majority swung one way.
Jeremy had more work to do. Bedlamites weren’t fooled.
I shut the laptop and lit on Nelson and his new tablemate. Their back was to me, so I didn’t make out anything but the cool mint green of their hoodie. The guy stood up and I caught a flash of something red disappearing inside Nelson’s backpack as he stood up to leave too.
“—dear Bedlamites, I report on justice, I don’t deliver,” Dante said. “As satisfying as it would be to carry out the punishment you vote for, it’s not up to me to see the Crows or Bedlam Boys pay for this. But that doesn’t mean you should sit by and do nothing, Paris. Rainey.”
Cold slid into my bones, freezing me to the spot.
“No one else has the right to hurt you,” he slithered into my ear. “If those responsible don’t pay for this in the end, ask for help. You still have friends.”
Dante went on to say more. An entire thirty-minute segment on the news in Bedlam, and I didn’t hear a thing till the kookaburra laughed, ending the show.
I TRUDGED HOME FOLLOWINGa long day of classes and sympathetic tuts at my healing bruises.
Arsenio leaned against the banister, waiting for me.
“I assume you heard Dante’s latest show.”
My backpack slipped off my shoulders. Arsenio let me rest my forehead on his folded arms without comment. Taking a deep breath, I said the only thing that could be true. “Dante is the Letter Man. The mantle of Bedlam’s underground voice was taken over by a psychopath.”
“No one else has the right to hurt you,” Arsenio repeated. “He’s protective of you. Implied that he’s a friend.”
“He’s a friend like a bullet wound is a boo-boo.”
His hand was warm on the back of my head. “He was angry, de Souza. Everyone listening heard it. The Crows jumping you set him off, and considering who he is, he might deliver justice if it’s not done for him—even if he says otherwise. He has some kind of attachment to you, Rainey. That doesn’t come from nowhere.”
I bent to look up into eyes so unique and beautiful from mine. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying even the most deranged stalker needs a meeting or moment to build their delusions on. They don’t pick a name out of a phone book.” He shook his head. “All this you’re going through to find him. You don’t have to, Rainey. I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s someone you know.”
My lips parted. To spout a denial. To form an argument. I couldn’t decide.
“But I didn’t know Cavendish,” I finally said. “Never crossed that guy’s path once.”
“He knew your sister, didn’t he? They were at Bedlam U at the same time. Ever pick her up from campus, or drop by to grab lunch?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “All the time.”
“It’s possible you did cross paths with Cavendish and his friend. The meeting was insignificant to you. Not worth remembering. But it wasn’t to them.”
Not worth remembering.
I gripped his arms, frustration welling hot and fast.
“Of course,” I whispered. “He might know me. I could’ve sipped tea and eaten cookies with him on the deck and never realized. I lost chunks of time after Gran died and Doc Nash put me on a blackout drug cocktail. I couldn’t tell you who I met during that time. Or what I did.”
The grave at Black Widow Hill.
“But it’s possible I did something terrible,” I rasped. “So bad I made enemies who are seeing I get what I deserve.”
“Possible, maybe, and I don’t know won’t help you.” He kissed me, scrambling my mind the way only he could. “If there are gaps in your memory, fill them in. Do whatever it takes. Talk to people who were around. Know where to start?”
I nodded. “I have an idea.”
Untangling his arms, I wrapped myself in them.
“What about Dante/the Letter Man?” I tucked my head under his chin. He wasn’t hugging or nuzzling me back, and neither was he pushing me away. This classified as tender love and affection from a guy like Arsenio. “Did he just whip the town into planning his next hit? What if everyone votes for breaking their kneecaps and tossing them off Chaney Bridge? The thought of him hurting people in my name makes me sick.”
“He won’t mess with the Crows.” Arsenio snaked his arm around my waist, lifting me off my feet. He made for the door.
“There won’t be anything left when we’re done.”
ARSENIO’S VOICE RANGin my head as Jeremy led me on another chase around campus. I found my way to Parking Garage C in time for a red convertible to pull up to the curb. Jeremy glared at me through the window.
“Get in.”
“Good afternoon to you too.” I hopped in, beaming away. “You look nice. Is that a new jacket?”
“Fuck you.”
I laughed in his sour face.
Jeremy looked tempted to punch me again. He slammed the gas instead, turning on the road that led out of campus.
“That car was worth more than your fucking farm!”
I waved that away. “You’re rich. Buy a new one.”
“You went too far.”
“You hurt my friend,” I shot back, “and I bitched less about it than you are over a hunk of metal. Are we putting it behind us and moving on or not?”
Jeremy jerked the wheel, hooking a right.
I bounced off the door, gritting my teeth. He didn’t have to do that. Jeremy was just testing how far he could push me before I drowned him in a pool.
“Is that a no?”
“No, depends on what you have for me,” he replied. “It better be good or the deal is off. Try me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You tell me if it’s good. I overheard Cairo on the phone telling someone to gather everyone they know and bring them to Buller’s Den Saturday night. I asked what was going on and he said the Crows were going to pay for what they did to us. You’d be gone in a week.”
“Is that right?” His grin revealed all his teeth. “Saturday night. Buller’s Den. Another party to crash.”
“Is that a good idea?” I went through my script, though I was already picturing being home with Roan and Legend, tempting them into another threesome. “Did you see Dante’s poll numbers? The masses don’t buy that you’re innocent. Going after the guys with their hands down their wallets was one thing, but everyone likes Paris. She got all the sweetness that skipped her older brother.
“Going after her turned Bedlam against you. If you show up at a meeting to take you down, you may not walk out of there.”
Here’s hoping.
“Aw, you’re worried about me.” Jeremy cuffed my chin. “How sweet.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“It’s not me who needs a warning.”
Jeremy slid into the next lane. A U-turn would take us back to campus, and I hoped he was making it. I wanted away from this guy ten minutes ago.
“They’ll whip everyone up with stuff they can’t prove, then I’ll remind them of exactly what you said. They’re the ones stealing thousands from Bedlam. This fairy story about them funneling the money back into the town is garbage. Replacement parts for Creed’s car were expensive. Sharpe isn’t on scholarship and he’s not paying tuition on his dad’s salary.
“We’ll remind them how much the Bedlam Boys have to lose if the town splits and half their weekly profits go with it. They’ve got an incentive to stir shit up and blame it on the Crows.”
“Sounds like you got it all figured out. Pull over here,” I said.
“You did good this week.” Jeremy slowed the car as requested. “Keep it up and you’ll get back in my good graces.”
His hand crept up my thigh.
“Let me make this clear.” I picked his hand up with two fingers and dropped it on his lap. “This is a business relationship and nothing more. You’ve threatened and punched me one too many times. Run back to Quinn.”
He muttered something as I climbed out. I didn’t care what. The slam of the door meant I was done with him. I had more important things to deal with that day.
The library was the cool, pastry-scented paradise I remembered. Little study pockets scattered all over the space. Couches, desks, computers, and even ottomans to put your feet up. I got myself another panini and set up in a nook on the third floor. Food in reach and feet up, I opened my laptop to Scott Cavendish’s old social accounts. I clicked through his friends one by one, searching for faces that matched those in the photos.
Assuming these two thought of each other as friends,a voice sounded in my mind. The first letter I received after Cavendish’s death, his supposed friend didn’t seem too broken up about his fiery end.
That I couldn’t deny. It begged the question of if sociopaths were capable of forming real relationships.
I stopped on Craig Brown’s profile, matching him to one of the young, smiling faces in the photo.
The Letter Man thinks I’m his friend for all that he’s angry with me now. There’s no understanding what’s going on in his mind, but he still could’ve accepted a friend request.
“—over here.”
A couple of students from my bankruptcy class spotted me and tromped over, loaded with backpacks, textbooks, and laptops.
“Hey, Rainey. How are you doing?” Violet asked. She was short and thin, rocking hair the color of her name. “Tased, arrested, and jumped. Talk about a rough semester.”
“Thanks for reminding me,” I said under my breath. “I’m doing okay. You guys studying for the midterm?”
“Yeah. Want to join us?”
“Sure, just give me a sec to finish this up.”
“Cool.”
Violet, Darryl, Hannah, and Luciano slid in around the table, leaving a spot between Darryl and Hannah for me.
Moving faster, I clicked through the profiles, scribbling the names of the guys I found.
Craig Brown. Oakley Jackson. Seth Harris. Kashton King.
None of these names were remotely close to Blake Jensen. It was my hope Cavendish used an alias, but even if he didn’t and none of these guys were him, I could still ask if there was a Blake or someone their old mentor was close to. These guys would all be college age now. Next, I’d find out if that college is Bedlam U.
“Done.” I picked up my stuff and parked it beside Hannah. She slid her book over to share with me.
“I don’t know why I signed myself up for his torture,” she said. “Everyone told me Professor Stein was a nice guy who was easy on grading and didn’t load you up with papers, but not even Chris Hemsworth teaching this bare-chested and oiled up could make this material interesting.”
“Damn, I’d sign up twice though.”
She laughed. “I hear that. But for real, I zone out the second he opens his mouth. I don’t remember anything he said would be on the test.”
“Don’t worry. I got you.”
I fished my binder out of my pack.
No doubt bankruptcy wasn’t the most stimulating class. I forced myself to write down his lectures because he forced me to listen to them. Afterward, I highlighted the important bits—including the sections that would be on the test.
“Voilà.”
“Bless you,” she cried, dropping her head on my shoulder. “You are a blessed saint of the goddess. Let her strike down the assholes who jumped you and Paris.”
“If she’s taking requests, I’d definitely love a good smiting right about now.”
“—not worth it,” Violet hissed at Luciano. “You’ll be thrown out of school if you get caught.”
Rolling his eyes, Luciano stuffed a red card back in his pocket.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
Violet looked around. Leaning across the table, she dropped her voice. “Word’s going around that someone hacked the system and got the answer keys for over fifty midterms. They’re selling them for five hundred bucks a pop.”
Darryl whistled. “Someone’s about to clean up.”
“Someone’s about to get caught,” Violet snapped. “You stumble on an answer key, you let two or three friends take a peek and then you destroy it and never speak about it again. Spreading word around the school, setting up shop, and giving them to whoever asks is a stupid move. Professors notice when their C students all of a sudden get hundreds. When dozens of C students get a hundred, they shut it down, reissue new exam papers, and go on the hunt for the cheat.”
She jabbed a finger at Luciano. “When they do, you’re going to wish you tossed that card in the trash.”
“Alright, alright.” Luciano got up and flung it in the bin. “I wasn’t actually going to do it. Someone slipped it to me in the hall and for a minute I got to hold on to the dream of an A. Instead of the B minus I’ve got coming my way.”
“You are getting that A,” I said. “I’ve got all the notes. I marked everything Stein said would be on the test. We’re all here. Let’s do this over a plate of butterscotch muffins, then make this exam our bitch.”
He grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about, de Souza. Slide those notes over here.”
Three hours, eight muffins, and a practice test later, I waved bye to the guys from the library steps. When they were out of sight, I dialed Gold. He answered on the second ring.
“Hello, this is Gold Investigations.”
“It’s Rainey.”
“Ah, yes.” His tone shifted. “I looked over the contract. It’s rather generous, isn’t it? An expensive land purchase just to get information on the people listed here.”
“It is, but I assume Steven Ellis is thinking he trades one patch of land for an entire town.”
“Yes, that’s possible,” he said to himself.
“Is something wrong? I read through the contract myself. Except for the wiggle room of the actual date of sale, it’s on the up.”
“It is ‘on the up’ as you say. I can’t see anything here that raises the alarm except for my own concerns on how much interest your farm has attracted. This is an extraordinary bribe.”
“Believe me, I thought the same. I’d be lying if I said I fully trusted the mysterious Steven Ellis, or his sons.”
“Hang on to that caution, Rainey. Trust no one until that deed is in your hands.”
“I won’t.”
“Just one thing... Your sister, Ivy. May I have her number?” he asked. “She’s older. It’s possible your grandmother shared more with her concerning the farm and what made it a magnet for trouble, since she was most likely to inherit and look after you if anything happened.”
I swallowed hard. “They could have had those conversations. I wouldn’t know. Ivy and I stopped speaking to each other soon after Gran died. She’s not doing anything to look after me or the farm.”
“I’m sorry.” He truly sounded it. “Would you like me to leave her out of this?”
“No,” I said. “This isn’t about us. It’s about Gran. I’ll text the number.”
“Thank you. Before you go, I thought you’d like to know that I did find a connection between AgriProspects and Bedlam.”
I shoved the phone back to my ear. “You did? Who?”
Scott Cavendish.
“A man named Walker Lewis. Heard of him?”
My brows crowded together. “Yeah. He was our old neighbor, technically. His land bordered ours.”
“He and Andrew Clein attended the same business school. Graduated the same year,” he explained. “It’s thin, and could be just a coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence.”
“Neither do I. My working theory is that when Clein’s company went on the hunt for land to acquire, Clein remembered his old classmate who grew up on a farm. That’s what brought him to Bedlam.”
“Or Mr. Lewis brought him to Bedlam. Almost every Bedlam farmer has sold up and moved. Lewis decided to give his old friend and his failing company a bone, and the miserable greedy shit looked next door, saw us still standing, and promised he’d get our farm too.”
“Just as likely,” he said. “That’s all I have for now, Rainey. I’ll call when I know more.”
We said our goodbyes.
I put my phone away as Cairo climbed the stairs. I texted him I was studying in the library, and his possessive self told me not to go anywhere. He was coming to get me.
We were off for another bath where I’d melt my beast with massaged temples, then he’d remind me he couldn’t be tamed. Any luck, he’d wear himself out too much to leave me alone in bed while he disappeared into the night.
BULLER’S DEN SOUNDEDlike the name of a bar with a hidden sex room in the back. What you got in reality was a wide-open clearing in the forest boasting tree stumps, a few boulders, and firepit. All the makings of a good party spot, and the empty red cups scattered around proved I wasn’t the first to have that thought.
Zara, Elise, Presley, Amy, Paris, and I found spots to sit on a felled log. We talked while people filed out of the dark, filling the clearing.
“Did you see Dante’s poll?” Presley held up her phone. “The write-ins are getting a lot of love. Right now, rack the Crows and use them as target practice are top one and two choices for punishments.”
“I also saw that eighty-six percent believe the Crows did it. Ten blame the Bedlam Boys and four don’t know. Eighty-six isn’t the unanimous vote it should be. The Crows still have people believing their lies.”
Paris hardened. “Just tie them up in a room with me and walk away. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Yep. She’s Cairo’s blood.
“I take back all that stuff I said about the town and splitting it up,” Amy said, rubbing Paris’s arm. “Bedlam might be a boring little town with residents as crazy as the name, but we look out for each other. We know what it means to protect our home and our own. If Bedlam is going to change, it’ll happen because it’s what we all want, and we’ll do it on our terms.”
Nods went through the group.
“We will also together, as a family, stomp the Crows into dust.”
“I love you guys.” Paris squeezed me and Amy tight.
Buller’s Den was filling up fast. I recognized faces from my classes and around campus.
I wonder if the Letter Man is blending in among these people.
The firepit was lit. It cast undulating light and shadows on the shuffling crowd.
I knew he had to be here. Someone who watched me as closely as I was realizing he did wouldn’t miss this chance to delight in my ignorance. Him so near and my gaze skimming right past him. There was also the little matter of Dante’s determination to bring me justice. The den was the right place to be to see that happen.
A sharp whistle cut through the chatter, bringing silence through the den.
“Sit.”
That short, gruff command could only be from one person.
The listeners took up seats on the logs, stumps, rocks, ground, and around the pit. It cleared the way for all to see five cruel princes coming out of the darkness. Arsenio, Legend, Roan, Cairo, and Jacques were larger than normal standing before us.
Cairo caught my eye and jerked his chin. A simple gesture but I knew how to read his grunts, shifts, and tells. You’re always on alert for a shift in mood when you live with wolves.
“I’ll be back, guys.”
I skirted the edge of the den and made for Cairo’s side. He tucked me under his arm, casual as can be.
“You know why you’re here,” Jacques began. “These guys calling themselves the Crows, blew into our town and came for us immediately. It was amusing at first. It isn’t now.”
“Anyone who isn’t a sad sack of shriveled balls would come at us head-on,” Cairo continued. “They want a fight, they’d have the decency to take it to us. But they’re not looking for a fight. What they want is surrender before the war.”
“What does that mean?” someone asked.
“Jeremy and Micah’s old man funds a company that’s looking to buy up Bedlam and raze it to the ground.”
The blowback was immediate.
“What?”
“No!”
“They can’t do that.”
“They’re already doing it,” Roan said. “Any of your folks receive a call from a company called Foundry? Checking if they’re happy with their home, or would they like it better living in a South Florida condo?
“The first step was getting their hands on the property legitimately. The next was sending in the gangbanger brothers to sell you the dream of a brand-new town... where they own everything.”
“All those promises,” Arsenio said. “Movie theaters, clubs, restaurants, boulevards, and affordable housing. Did you get any of that shit in writing? Once they’ve got the vote freeing them from town hall’s construction restrictions, they can do whatever the hell they want. And whatever that is, I’m not betting on it bettering the town. You tell me when a random, faceless HC company ever shed a tear for the lives of us Bedlamites.”
Uncomfortable looks and whispers passed through the crowd.
“What do we do?” I recognized Nelson as the owner of the voice. “My parents are talking about selling to Foundry. They’re giving them enough to retire.”
“How generous,” Legend said sarcastically. “Big business is known for that, right? Their generosity.”
“St. James Whiskey isn’t.”
Six figures emerged from the shadows. Jeremy and that one-sided grin led the pack.
“But the rest of us aren’t as shady as you and Daddy,” he finished.
“What’s this?” Micah called. “You having a party? Why didn’t anyone invite us?”
Cairo’s hand stole down my back, landing on my ass. “Excellent job getting them here, Rain,” he said under his breath. “Tomorrow we’ll come back here for a hunt. Just you and me.” He nipped my ear. “I’ll bring the crossbow.”
I flushed hot in the firelight. What did it say about me that Cairo believed giving me a treat was chasing me through the woods, pouncing, and fucking me where we dropped? What else did it say about me that my panties were damp?
The crowd parted for the Crows.
More like, they pushed and shoved till two sides stood opposite each other. If this was a sign of something to come, I wasn’t sure. All I knew was I didn’t like the expressions on anyone’s face as Jeremy and his guys passed through them.
“I caught part of your speech,” Jeremy said. “Hope you don’t mind if I make some corrections. Tell them the truth you don’t want them to hear.”
“Save it.” Cairo rushed him.
Jeremy got his knife up quickly. Cairo snatched his arm mid-jab and wrenched it behind his back.
Micah, Gael, Asher, Bentley, and Zeke lurched into action, and found themselves thrown back as the crowd surged, grabbing their arms, shoulders, hair, and legs. The Crows thrashed and shouted in the ten-on-one hold.
“Hey! Get off! Get off me!”
Cairo hauled Jeremy to the firepit. He swept his feet, pitching him forward into the flames.
“Ahh!”
My beast, my god, my love snatched his collar, grabbing him just out of the fire’s reach.
“Let me up,” Jeremy bellowed. “Pull me back.”
Roan and Legend were on him. It wasn’t to pull him back.
They picked up both legs, pointing him like an arrow directly above its hungry maw. All they had to do was let go.
I stood transfixed—unable to help him. Unable to look away.
“Ready to tell the truth, Ellis?” Cairo shook him, ratcheting his shouts higher. “Admit what you did to my sister. Admit it!”
“Put me down!”
“Guys,” Cairo barked. “I don’t think he’s warm enough.”
They held him closer. On the other side of the pit, Paris stepped out among the audience.
“No, stop! It wasn’t me,” Jeremy cried. “We didn’t touch her. I bet you did it!”
He swiped wildly at Cairo’s legs. Not the smartest move since those were two of the legs keeping him out of the fire.
“You won’t force me to confess to your shit.”
“It was him,” Paris said, steady and clear. “All of them. They attacked us.”
“It’s a lie! Can’t you see what they’re doing?” Jeremy addressed the crowd. “They’re turning you against us so they don’t lose their walking, talking bank accounts. We’re not the ones cheating you, they—”
Cairo let go and caught him just as fast. Jeremy’s bellow bounced up the trees.
“Oops,” Cairo sang. “My hand slipped. I have a feeling it’s going to do that every time a lie comes out of that brother-cock-sucking mouth.”
“I didn’t do it!”
The other Crows yelled and pleaded for their leader, swearing up and down they weren’t responsible. My stomach churned in disgust.
Got to give it to them. Their acting holds up under pressure.
Jacques crossed in front of me. Inexplicably, he drew me to his side—his hand warm on my hip.
“How do we settle this?” Jacques was smooth and calm, speaking over the Crows as his thumb stroked me.
I was neither of those things. My skin prickled as though I was the one held to the fire. I couldn’t understand this feeling. I was helpless to save Paris. I couldn’t even save myself. Another bully blew into my life and hurt the people I love, and for all that I was named after a force of nature, I wasn’t strong enough to stop it.
That fury burned on a slow heat beneath my skin... waiting for this moment.
I wanted something to happen. Someone to pay.
Someone to scream.
The Crows within my reach and their payback on the slip of a grip.
My fist clamped on Jacques’s shirt. I held on to him to stop me from massaging my temples and feeding the headache. I pushed the pain down. This had my entire focus.
It was time for the Bedlam Boys to do what they do.
“The Crows say they’re innocent. We say they’re not. If you ask me, there’s only one way to settle this,” Jacques said, “and we’re in the right place for it.”
Someone whispered too low for me to hear. Their phrase was picked up by another, and passed on. Again and again, growing louder till two words ran clear in the night.
“Riot Royale. Riot Royale. Riot Royale.”
“Put me down!”
“Gladly,” Jacques said. “First, do you agree?”
“Agree to what?!”
He looked to Cairo. “Do you agree?”
“Yes,” Cairo said. “If Paris accepts me.”
Paris wasn’t alone. Amy, Zara, Presley, and Elise were silent pillars of support beside her. They nodded one after the other as she swept over them.
“I accept,” she said.
I held my breath, preventing any chance of a word escaping. I’d heard of Riot Royales and Gran had the same policy on those as she did Ruckus Royale: stay away.
This was their plan. This is why they wanted Jeremy brought here to a crowd that well and truly despised them. I gazed at Jacques. The man is a genius.
“To the ignorant cattle that forced their way into our home, daring to tell us what we need without bothering to find out who we are,” Jacques barked. “Riot Royale is a chance to get everything you want. Right here, right now, Cairo Sharpe and Jeremy Ellis will fight until one of you doesn’t get up. If Cairo wins—”
“The Crows get down on their knees and beg my sister for forgiveness.” He shook him. “On your knees! Then all of you pack your stuff, get the hell out of our town, and don’t come back. Ever.”
“Terms stated,” Jacques called. “Accepted?”
“Accepted!” the crowd shouted back.
Wide-eyed, I could hardly believe what I was witnessing. Riot Royales were old. The last one was when my father was a kid. We had easier ways of solving our problems these days. But then, this was Bedlam.
“Jeremy,” Jacques said. “State your terms.”
“What the fuck is going on?!”
Roan and Legend dropped his feet. Cairo hauled Jeremy away from the fire—though his hold on him was firm.
“It’s a Riot Royale, bitch.” Cairo threw him away. The crowd threw him back. “You’re fighting for the Crows against me who represents Paris, the Bedlam Boys, and our girl. You state what you want from us if you win. If the watchers accept, they all agree to hold us to your terms—by any means necessary.
“No one reneges on a Riot Royale,” he said. “Think of it like that marked shit they used to do at that school, Evergreen Academy. If you don’t put me down, our lovely audience will run you out of town. Slashed tires, break-ins, beating you up on the quad. Whatever it takes to help you pack your bags faster. The same applies to us if I lose, so name your terms, Ellis.”
“You can’t be serious.” Jeremy whipped around, face red, eyes wild. “This is a joke!”
“No joke,” Arsenio said. “This is your lucky night.”
He threw a rock at his feet. A piece of paper was strapped to it. I didn’t have to read it to know what it said.
“Burning cars and cowards in masks weren’t going to do it, Ellis. This is the closest you’ll ever get to forcing us out of Bedlam, so name your terms.”
Teeth bared, he snapped from Arsenio, to the watchers, to Cairo, and finally to me. My expression reflected nothing.
“Yeah, alright.” Jeremy ripped off his jacket. “When I win, the Bedlam Boys get the hell out of my town—tonight. Your false-accuser sister can kiss my ass literally. And that sweet house you’re living in rent-free”—he met my eyes—“becomes mine.”
I bristled. The implication was clear to me even if it wasn’t to anyone else. The Crows would own the house I told him I traded my freedom to live in. Either I moved in with Jeremy, or it was back to a motel till he got around to giving me that deed.
“Terms stated,” Jacques said flatly. “Accepted?”
“Accepted.”
The watchers moved on a cue, fanning out to form a circle in the clearing.
Moving into the makeshift arena, Cairo shed his hoodie and shirt.
“Rules are simple,” Jacques said. “It’s a bare-knuckle fight that does not stop until one of you do. No one is to help or interfere, but do not try to kill your opponent. If you do, the prosecution will have more than enough eyewitnesses at the trial.”
He motioned to the people holding Micah and the others. “Let them go. They’ll respect the Royale.”
Growling, Asher advanced on us the second he was free—his fist balled and rising above his shoulder.
I flashed to the meaty fist heading toward my face. The fist that stripped Paris in the dirt.
It was you.
Neither one of us moved.
“Be warned,” Jacques hissed. “I’m the worst one.”
Asher stopped dead—huffing and puffing, knuckles whitening inches from Jacques’s face. Maybe there was a single working brain cell in that caveman skull. Roaring, he shoved away, returning to the Crows.
“You’re not,” I whispered. I slipped my hand under his shirt, stroking him the way he did me. “Thank you.”
“It’s not done yet.”
That much was true.
Cairo and Jeremy squared off, practically dancing around the circle, sidestepping in time with each other.
Roan took his place between them. “On my signal,” he said, raising his phone. “Fists up... Riot Royale!”
A loud ding sounded, and Roan raced out of the way—just in time for them to fly at each other.
Cairo went for his signature throat punch. His fist sailed past Jeremy’s ear.
To be fair, he’d be an idiot to be caught out with that hit three times. The quick duck and rebound jab to Cairo’s ribs was the expected move. Didn’t stop me gasping and clutching tight to Jacques.
Cairo wasn’t kidding about the rules of Riot Royale. Most likely why people didn’t initiate one nowadays. If he lost, people he’s known his whole life will pick up the pitchforks and torches and chase my boys to the border. Paris would suffer further humiliation, and the Crows would have another hold on me.
Everything was riding on this.
The punch doubled Cairo over, wheezing— No. He was laughing.
He popped up, grinning away. “Little Jer-Bear came to play.”
“Fuck you!”
Jeremy flew at him. Cairo spun, dropped to his knee, and swept his leg. Jeremy hit the ground with an audible thud, skidding to land at Paris’s shoes.
“Finish him,” she screamed.
This was a new side of my sweet best friend, and if anyone was going to bring it out of her, it was the Crows.
Cairo seized his shoulders and tossed Jeremy on his back. Down and dazed, he didn’t see Cairo’s fist flying at his gut till it bent him in two.
Jeremy popped up head and feet, clutching his stomach as he rolled on his side, struggling to stand.
“Get up,” Micah shouted. “Come on, bro. Get up!”
The Crow got up on his hands and knees, and Cairo kicked him in the face. His head snapped around, squirting blood as far as three feet away.
“Who exactly are you rooting for?” Jacques asked, raising a brow at my latest gasp.
“You know who I’m rooting for. But Cairo’s not pulling his punches. What if he kills him?”
“One,” he said. “Don’t spare any sympathy for that vermin.” His fingers dug into my hip. “Anyone who hurts you doesn’t deserve it.”
I blinked at him in surprise. An extraordinary statement from someone who belted my ass raw without hesitation. Extraordinary because he meant it, and he was angry.
Jeremy rolled to his feet, head lolling. He shook himself hard. I could almost hear him shouting at himself to get in the fight.
Cairo came at him again. Jeremy hit him with a one-two double punch in the face. Cairo dropped, and Jeremy was on him in an instant—pummeling his skull.
The scream trapped in my throat.
Forget the consequences of Jeremy winning. The torture of watching him hurt Cairo was ripping my heart to shreds all on its own.
Cairo abandoned protecting his face. He reared and grabbed Jeremy’s forearms. He flipped and the roles were reversed. Cairo fisted his hair and punched Jeremy once, twice, three, four times in the face.
“Stop,” Micah hollered. “He’s had enough.”
“Not nearly.” Standing up, Cairo hoisted the half-conscious man above his head. His roar was only a fraction higher than the baying crowd. Sweat glinted off his muscles in the firelight. “Bedlam now.”
“Bedlam forever!”
He threw him.
Jeremy sailed shrieking through the air. I jerked as he hit the ground, my bones jarring with the impact.
That was it. It had to be. No one got up from a hit like that.
Jeremy got his knees under him and stood.
Canine glinting, Cairo waved him over. Come and get me.
Jeremy didn’t so much run as he did stagger across the circle. He punched wildly, missing Cairo by a mile. Cairo straightened, and his not-quite-right eyes flashed.
“Don’t,” Micah screamed, knowing exactly what was coming. “He’s had enough. Don’t!”
Jeremy swung again.
Cairo snatched his fist and wrenched it back. Jeremy roared as his bone crackled like tinder. My love shoved the sobbing gangster to his knees, his wrist secure in his hold. Cairo raised his fist for the final punch. Jeremy would not get up from this.
Bang!
A gunshot shattered the scene.
“Ah!”
Students ran in every direction, stampeding from Buller’s Den. Shoving, screaming, limbs flailing, and Jacques lifting me up and running us away from it all. Riot Royale was over.
And there was no winner.