The blackness surrounds me again now.
I don’t realize I’ve knocked a glass from the counter until War is standing a few feet away.
“J?” he barks.
Turning my head, I stare at him. “What?” My tone is as flat as the surface of the water that day.
With a narrow-eyed gaze, he shifts his attention to the shards of broken glass. “What’s up?”
My own glance passes the laptop where it sits open on the counter, the offensive picture glaring at me. I flip the screen down, snapping the computer closed.
“Knocked a glass over,” I say with a shrug I hope appears casual.
Something in my features gives me away. Or perhaps it’s something else. He may have called my name a few times. I’m not sure.
War watches me like I’m an unknown quantity, which in this state, I am. My subconscious mind is five steps ahead of coherent thought. All my instincts are screaming at me to get the long rifle with the scope.
Calm the fuck down,I finally tell myself.You have the man in your sights now. A picture on the computer is as good as having him in the room.
Internally, I shake off my racing heart and racing thoughts.
Meanwhile, War is perfectly still. Like an animal scenting trouble in the distance. It’s something I’ve seen before in him and admired. In moments of chaos, there is no wasted motion from War. No wasted energy.
Drawing in a breath, I frown. “Everything’s all right.” This time, I’m sure I’ve made my voice sound normal.
My shift toward calm is something he must recognize because he turns and walks away.
Good.I need to be alone to think.
In the time it takes me to clean up the broken glass, I’ve made my first decision.
Robert Allendale will lose his only son, and if his grief doesn’t level him, I will keep going until I find something that does.
32
SAWYER
At Jamie’s, I’m trying to pretend things are normal and that Clare Duffy didn’t steal my mom’s Briar Club bracelet out from under me. And also that fucking Brad didn’t help her do it. Unfortunately, on and off, my mind reels from the pain and frustration. I don’t know if it’s too late to get it back somehow. I hope not. Though, I can’t figure out how I’d pull that off.
There’s no way I would whine about it to Briar Club leadership. They know that vintage bracelet was my mom Celine’s, so if they let Clare trade hers in for it, they’ve already decided it should go to an accomplished senior rather than incoming-freshman me, who has yet to prove herself.
My hands are clasped in my lap as I sit on a barstool at the downstairs kitchen island. Jamie sits at the end, and as usual, War is standing. This time, however, War stands because he’s cooking, rather than so he’ll be at the ready to turn and stalk up the stairs.
War is dressed in jeans and a tight black t-shirt for a band called Five Finger Death Punch. As he cooks an Asian chicken stir fry, Jamie drinks whiskey and speaks with an accent so thick I can barely understand him.
I eat a pea pod as I watch them.
Jamie uses a string of words I don’t recognize, and War murmurs, “If you take a nap like a five-year-old, you’re out.”
Jamie chuckles.
Studying him, I cock my head. “What did you just say?”
“Ah, sorry. War lived in Ireland for a time, so he understands me the way people from the island would. I just said I’m feeling exhausted.Knackered,we say.”
I nod. He’s never spoken with such a thick accent around me before. It’s almost as though he’s trying to shut me out or to emphasize to War that I’m no threat to the closeness of their friendship. Since I’ve never done anything that should make War have issues with me, I have to assume it’s because he and Ash are at odds.
Picking up another loose pea pod, I study him. “Where else have you lived, War?”
