All but one.
My boots were barely a whisper against the polished floor as I cut through the small crowd, catching glances, but never holding them.
A few of the prey nodded like they recognized me, though they didn’t know why. That was the trick. I always let them think they knew me when they didn’t know a fucking thing. They knew my title, my name, but far from who I truly was.
I grabbed a vodka bottle from the tray, not because I wanted it, but because empty hands drew questions. The liquor burned as I swallowed, but I didn’t flinch.
Where had my sister dragged her sad little boyfriend to?
Upstairs, a door shut faintly, and my eyes flicked toward the staircase.
Shiloh.
He was wrapped in a soft towel, heading toward my sister’s old room, likely holing up with her to use her for sex and comfort. I could almost feel him beside me from here. Coiled and tight. That restless ache, how he tried to scrub me off his skin with her willing pussy. It made me smile into the neck of the bottle. He thought a bed and a body could cleanse him. He’d learn.
You can’t wash away a sin that defines you.
“Carrington.” One of the hunters clapped me on the shoulder as he passed by, grinning widely with the too white teeth that everyone had. “Glad you showed. We all have a challenge to beat your title. I saw your dad’s trophy man. That’s sick. I wish my dad were that cool. Making a fucking maze for me to chase and fuck girls every year.”
I forced a smile and tilted my vodka toward him.
No words.
Words gave too much away.
When he wandered off, the silence becoming too unsettling for him, I started for the stairs, slow and unhurried. I wanted everyone to think I had all the time in the world to walk around this house again, to play their game once more and leave with the prize I wanted.
Because I will.
“Boy.”
The voice cracked like a whip across the hall, stopping me mid-step as I got to the top of the stairs. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. That sharp, grating baritone had been carved into my bones since childhood.
I kept my back to him. Slowly letting the glass bottle dangle from my fingertips, until a sharp clap on my shoulder had me hissing and turning away from his touch.
My father leaned against the doorway to one of the rooms. His thick, woodsy-smelling cigar was clamped between his teeth, smoke curling up around his face, hiding the lines of age, but not the cruelty set deep in the grooves. His suit was sharp, and his shoes were polished to a mirror shine, hardening power dressed in the flesh.
Fuck you.
“You skulking around again?” he drawled, narrowing his eyes at my disheveled appearance. “Always slithering in the dark corners like a fucking rat. Makes people nervous, Carey. You should know better. Have you forgotten how to act normal, for God’s sake? Your mother says you did not even do the hunt tonight. We were all counting on your scores.”
I took a slow sip from the liquor, letting the burn smooth out my voice when I finally spoke. “Maybe they should be nervous, Pops.”
His laugh was low, ugly, and filling in the spaces between us until I was dizzy. “Still got that smart mouth, I see. One day it’s gonna write checks that your hands can’t cash.”
I said nothing, watching the way his eyes flicked over me, searching for cracks he could exploit. We both had enough dirt on each other, but neither of us would make a move without becoming a detonator for everything and everyone.
He’d never find my scars, never see any weaknesses in me to dig his grubby fingers into…I learned long ago to show him only what I wanted him to see. But the truth of the matter was, I was not weak. I did not have any weak spots.
He tapped his cigar, ash dropping onto the expensive floor he paid too much to own. “Don’t forget whose name you carry. You embarrass me, you embarrass this family, and I’ll cut the strings I have allowed you to control. Understood? You think you have bested me, but don't forget who taught you all you know. You won’t even see the blade coming.”
I tilted my head, letting a small smile curl on my lips. “Cut me loose? That a promise? If I remember correctly. I was the one doing all your dirty work while you cowered in the bushes waiting to claim the heads.”
His jaw tightened, just for a second. Then he laughed, that rich asshole laugh you instinctively hate. “A true leader doesn’t need to sully his hands. Their slaves do that for them. But the control you think you have is an illusion, and if you don’t behave yourself, Carrington, that illusion will pop.”
I thought he would hit me right there in front of his guests, showing the pathetic drones what a man he really was. But he just sneered, pushing off the doorway.
“Stay upstairs. Stay out of sight. Remember, son, you’re only here because I allow it. When you have no use left to me, you will cease to exist.”
