I could rearrange all his tools—or maybe hide a few—and watch him lose his mind trying to work. Or I could add water to the gas tank of his bike and savor the moment it stalled, maybe even bleach and wait as it destroyed the entire bike. But then I wouldn’t be able to ride with him.
I needed something bigger.
Something to show me whether Aiden was here for me—or if it really was only loyalty to my brother keeping him by my side.
I needed an answer.
Something to crush the glimmer of hope in my chest that he might care about me as more than a duty. Or at least something sharp enough to shatter the patronizing armor he wore whenever I got too close.
I lay down, clicking on one of my favorite romance movies to calm my frayed nerves before drifting off into a fitful sleep where my plan stitched itself together seamlessly.
Chapter 4
Evie
Our redbrick mansion sprawled across the middle of the property. The scorched side, which had burned down months ago, was nothing more than a patch of grass and shrubs now—a quiet marker of the new chapter we’d all started. A better reminder of Rook finally letting go of his obsession with revenge for our parents’ deaths.
I didn’t crave revenge like Rook had. I only wanted answers. Who were my parents before they were killed? What did they do in their free time? And more importantly, why did Cameron target them in the first place?
We knew Cameron Fletcher—Regan’s dad—used our parents’ business to smuggle illegal goods into the country. We knew he destroyed everything they built. But I never understood why he chose them. From everything I remembered, they were quiet, kind, normal people. What made them stand out as targets to someone like Cameron?
Even with Cameron dead, the questions lingered. Letting those questions go didn’t feel fair—not when I survived and my parents didn’t.
I dreamed about them often, but nothing like I had the other night, nothing about their actual deaths. It was getting worse.The guilt always nagging me that I was alive and they weren’t. Their memory nearly wiped from our lives.
The house thrummed with life as always, a constant mess of voices and movement with seven of us under one roof—plus Harper, Regan’s best friend, who was basically an eighth resident at this point. The familiar noise of Hero and Mason bickering filtered in from the kitchen as I rounded the corner.
“Taste it. What if it’s delicious?” Hero demanded, stirring a dark liquid in the pot.
Mason leaned back, sandwich in hand. “And what if it kills me?”
“I’ll give you twenty bucks.”
“To possibly kill me? Make it thirty.”
Hero’s dead eyes lit up, but he nodded. Mason grinned, dunking the spoon into the pot before dramatically tasting it. His yell rang out, Hero groaning as I slipped past, laughing under my breath. Hero could bake—the formulaic methods were right up his alley—but cooking wasn’t quite a strength for him.
In the living room, Zack and Kane lounged on the couches, beers in hand despite the early hour. Zack’s grin spread wide as his gaze locked on me. “Evie,” he said, his deep voice always making me smile. “You’re looking dangerous as always.”
“Dangerous is the goal,” I shot back, tossing my hair with a dramatic flip of my hand.
“Dangerous? You have enemies in the house or something?” Kane asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Keep your friends close, right? Sometimes your enemies are better company.”
They exchanged a knowing look before Kane broke into a smile. “It’s Aiden, isn’t it? Always the enemy.”
I didn’t answer, only flashed a grin and continued toward the stairs. Rook and Regan passed me, their laughter soft as they headed toward the kitchen together.
The noise faded as I climbed the stairs and reached my room.
The second I passed through the door, the weight of the morning settled over me, thick and unshakable. It had started as a slow simmer—irritation lurking beneath my skin, easy to ignore. But like an ember fed too much fuel, it had grown, and by the time I woke up today, it was an inferno.
I’d been angry at Aiden since the night at Hellfire, but the feeling had sharpened into something colder, more deliberate. At first, I told myself to let it go and any anger I had at what he did—what he was always doing—wasn’t worth the energy. But Aiden knew better than anyone he couldn’t ruin my day, meddle in my life, and walk away like nothing happened.
I didn’t want big revenge like Rook did, but I would do a lot to slowly tear apart someone’s life for my own type of revenge.
My fingers flexed with the restless weight of an idea forming as I paced my room. I wasn’t just going to get back at him. I was going to make him pay.
