ONE
ELLIOT
Dread slithers into my brain,taking up residence, as I stare at the phone in my hand—the one with the gay pride sticker slapped on the back that I’d given my best friend, Will, last summer when he’d come out to me. Thinking back to that day, he’d been so anxious about anyone finding out, the rainbow sticker had ended up hidden underneath his phone case, concealed from the world… including the brothers at Hawthorne Hall.
My trust in Kingston, Cannon, and Archer has dissolved in an instant. Betrayal coats every inch of my skin. And the desire for revenge slicks hot and sticky through my veins.
It’s time to dig deep into their wicked, deceitful game.
I clutch the sheet to my bare chest, my hands cold and clammy. Forcing myself to think, to breathe, my head throbs—and, whether it’s the lingering effects of the mild concussion I sustained last night during one of the brotherhood’slovelygames or the tangled web I’ve found myself in, I haven’t a clue. It simply doesn’t make sense why the fuck I just found Will’s phone in Kingston’s room. I know the police looked high and low for it. But he’s had it all this time? Disturbing, gut-wrenching scenarios swirl through my head, too complex and upsetting to fully dissect right now.
I wish I had it all figured out. I really do. I’ve wanted so badly to ask questions, but without knowing who to trust, I’ve had to move at an agonizingly slow pace. If I’d have come in, guns blazing, blatantly digging into all their shit, they’d have kicked me out on my ass so fast.Learning the ins and outs of the brotherhood and keeping my eyes open is the only way I’m going to know who I can count on, so I’ll have to continue on as I have, picking at the loose threads until something begins to unravel.
“Motherfucker.” Kingston’s biting tone carries a note of genuine surprise all the way from the other room, and the expletive is followed by the vicious slam of my nightstand drawer. Apparently, the threatening notes I’ve been receiving aren’t to his liking, which is hilarious, considering my discovery.
I suck in a breath as it hits me—this could be very bad. I thought I had a good idea of who I needed to take a closer look at, but it’s clear now that I don’t know shit. Not which brothers hate having me here, not who is responsible for the notes, nor how many of them or which ones know something about Will’s disappearance.
My stomach twists and lurches because ever since I learned that Will had been placed with Alec, Joel, and Stuart, I’d assumed I needed to keep my eyes on them. But with this latest development, I’m questioning everything.
Kingston? He’s been adamant in his opinion of my presence here—so much so that it’s hard for me to wrap my head around what’s happened between us. My heart tugs. Despite everything he’s put me through, I thought I could trust him. But now, the fragile connection we had is shattered.So fucking stupid.
With Kingston involved, I have to assume Archer and Cannon are as well. I must play by the rules of the house to unravel Will’s mysterious disappearance, but in order to do that I’ve made myself a willing victim in all the games these brothers play. But how long can I go on like this? I want to explode and unleash my rage on Kingston. But if I do, I’ll be giving up my one shot at finding Will.Control. Restraint. Bide your time.
I swallow hard, look around his room, and press a few fingers to my temple. Should I put the phone back into the drawer where I found it? If there was a way to get it out of here without him seeing it, I would. But I’m naked, and even if I threw on the T-shirt and underwear that I came in here with, there would still be nowhere to hide the phone.
From my room, Kingston lets loose with another muttered curse. I don’t know what he’s doing in there, but he’s going to be back any second.Think, Elliot. Fuck.
My hands shake as I shove the phone back into the little black pouch and seal the Velcro flap. With my heart thrashing about in my chest, I bite my lip, making the snap decision to slip the phone under his mattress. I can’t risk putting it back in the drawer only to have it go missing again. Hopefully, he won’t realize for a while that it’s gone, and I can sneak back in here and grab it.
Gulping in air, it hits me that the charger Kingston told me I could use must still be in there. Not wanting him to get suspicious, I hurriedly make a lunge for it, yanking the drawer open. This time when I feel around, I come up with a second black pouch with a drawstring closure. I dump the contents onto the bed, revealing the charging cable and brick I’d expected to find the first time around.
What are the damn odds that I’d pull the other bag first? If I hadn’t, I would have been none the wiser. I trusted him. My eyes crash shut, and a tiny whimper escapes my lips. I let him kiss my scars. I laid myself bare when I told him a little about why I used to cut myself.
I would have gone on as is… my face heats and flushes. I’d have kept right on fucking the guy who has my missing friend’s phone in his possession. A wave of nausea rolls through me.Oh god. What have I done?
My heart rate ratchets up a notch as Kingston stalks into the room, larger than life, his jaw tight. I swear I stop breathing and all I can do is stare at him, noting his agitated movements. There’s a lump growing steadily in my throat, and I swallow hard past it. I can’t reconcile the guy who let me see him at his lowest point earlier with this furious oneorthe person who has secret knowledge of Will’s whereabouts.
He walks directly to his desk and slaps the hate notes I received right next to the photo of him and his sister, Juliette, that I’d found on the floor earlier. “When I find out who sent these to you, I’ll make them pay for it. I’ll fuckingendthem,” he grits harshly, then pivots on his heel, his bare chest rising and falling in his agitation. His teeth clamp down viciously on that full lower lip of his. He’s fuming mad. If he’s acting, he’s really good at it.
And dammit, I’m so fucking annoyed with myself for being distracted by his half-naked body, yet my eyes dance over the toned, carved muscle of his chest and abs before dropping to the jeans, which he never bothered to zip up and button before he stormed out of here.Shit.Why can’t I stop looking? I avert my gaze, tearing it from the thickly muscled V and the trail of hair that points downward into his pants. I can’t believe he made me feel something for him—and not only on a physical level. We were connecting emotionally. I felt it. Was it all one big fake out? He’s hiding important evidence… but does he know he should be hiding it fromme?Does he know who I am and how Will and I are connected?
Clearly, even though I thought I was beginning to know what to expect from him… I was dead wrong.
Motherfucker.
I press the heel of my hand to my head. I’m so woozy, it makes it impossible to untie any part of the knot I’ve found myself stuck in. I can’t think for shit. Slamming my eyelids closed, I rub both hands over my face. I don’t know what the right move is. Should I extract myself from this situation? Scream at him? Or should I stay and let him continue to take care of me as if nothing happened to see how much deeper I can dig?
The bed dips with Kingston’s weight as he sits beside me. “Hey. Sorry,” he murmurs. When I don’t respond, he rests his hand on my shoulder. “Elle?”
Don’t call me that. Don’t be sweet with me now.Without looking at him, I take a deep, cleansing breath. I don’t know what the right answer is, so I go with option one… and maybe a little bit of three. Extract myself from the situation, escape. And let them thinknothinghas changed.
Until I can come up with a strategy, anyway.
The problem with that is the relationship I was developing with these guys hadn’t felt fake to me.
In need of a cool, collected head—which I don’t have with Kingston nearby—I mutter, “I’m not feeling so hot. Maybe I should try to rest in my room.”
“Hey. Look at me.”
