“I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t—” My words cut off as fresh sobs claw their way up my throat, overpowering me.
Mom continues ushering me somewhere, but my feet stumble as I drag them like walking through thick mud. When we make it to my room, she sits with me on the edge of the bed.
“I killed him.” The words slip from my lips, barely there. “I killed Zach.”
It’s my fault.
The ringing in my ears grows louder, drowning out the world.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a fresh start. A better life for Mom and me.
Instead, I broke everything.
Chapter 1
Zach
I flex my fingers on my left hand, breathing out sharply through my nose. Goddamn useless fingers. After five years, I can barely feel them.
Picking my phone off the airplane tray table, I read Raiyne's text message again. Viktor’s contact had been able to obtain an updated image of Merci and Jackson had pulled it up while hanging out with his boyfriend and Raiyne a few weeks ago.
Turns out the fucking redhead Serpent knows my little stepbrother. They work together on occasion for some exclusive sex club that happens to be having an event tonight in Miami, which is why I'm taking a flight down the day after Christmas.
The fucking holidays mean nothing to me. Can barely tolerate being home. And there’s no love lost in the household. My father’s always been distant with me, and my stepmother Evelyn, well, the holidays—and my presence—only seem to make her miss her son more.
“Here, eat something.” Viktor offers me half a grilled-cheese sandwich with tomato, part of the corner bitten off.
I grunt and take it, not bothering to look at him.
“Going to tell me what’s bothering you because I know this has nothing to do with the cockroach we’re going to snuff out?”
“No problem.” I take a bite of the sandwich, not that I really enjoy it. Food, in general, tastes . . . flat.
Bland.
I can’t even distinguish between sweet, salty, and sour, which is the reason Viktor’s always eating my food. He took it upon himself to become my personal taste tester after I drank sour milk at a tournament when we were sixteen. I had no idea it went bad until I was vomiting on the ice.
I never wanted my friend to know I have . . . weaknesses. But that persistent fuck doesn’t give up. Like right now.
“Put on that robot voice all you want, but I know you better than you think.”
“He’s just pissed you have a boyfriend.” Jackson stretches out his legs and rests his hands behind his head. “Speaking of, how did you get Coach Harper to let you come with us?”
“No one stops Novy from doing anything he wants. Not even his beloved.” Connor tosses a pretzel at Viktor’s head.
Viktor looks over the seat at Jackson and Connor with a lopsided smirk. “You really want to know?”
“Don’t make me vomit all over Walsh’s private jet. His dad would make us all clean it up with a toothbrush.” Jackson fake heaves and then starts laughing.
“My father can go fuck himself.” Connor practically snarls as he speaks.
Viktor quirks a brow at him. “Daddy issues? Thought he would be thrilled you finallysettled downwith what’s her name.”
“Zach’s stepbrother won’t be the only one to turn up as a corpse tonight if you don’t drop it.”
None of us have ever met the Walshes. They’re always traveling for one reason or another, and my friend seems to like it that way. So, Connor’s current attitude is . . . surprising.
When I drove by his house yesterday, it appeared he was alone. And although spending Christmas by myself would be a relief, I doubt my friends see it that way. They feel things differently than I do. Maybe that’s what’s got him bent out of shape.
