Page 52 of The Unravelings

“One day, we’ll leave,” I murmur against her stomach, trailing kisses across her abdomen. “One day…” I trail off, setting my chin on her stomach and reveling in the feel of her fingers running through my hair. Goosebumps prickle across my flesh, and I sigh. “Right, Trouble?”

She smiles down at me, tracing the stubble on my jaw. “Our future. Our new life.” I know she’s ready. I know she wants out of her house even if her father hasn’t really been present.

“He asked about your dad again.” The uneasiness I’ve felt for weeks boils inside me.

Olivia stiffens under me. “I don’t know where he goes,” she whispers. “He leaves and meets up with that kid he took under his wing.”

“You met him once, right?” I raise a brow when she meekly nods.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything special. He had dinner with us, and I’ve never seen him again.” Her face twists, and she relaxes back into my bed. The way she should be.

Her father is up to something. Something bad. Something we haven’t figured out yet. And Franco is on the prowl, asking questions he shouldn’t be and stirring the pot. I’m afraid to tell her Franco called her uncles.

So, I won’t.

I won’t tell her anything. Not yet. Not until I have all the facts.

“Right,” JJ clears his throat, drawing me back into the present. “I almost forgot about it.” His eyes dart past me and then to his computer screen again, with tension edging onto his shoulders as they hunch closer and closer to his ears.

Him? Forget? He’s the keeper of the calendar. The man who always knows the plan at least a week in advance.

What the hell is he up to?

“Are you distracted by something?” I click a few buttons and the Keurig comes to life, producing a tall mug of southern pecan coffee.

My girl’s favorite. And now? It’s mine, too. I drink it every day in her memory.

“Just the recruits.” His eyes move back to the computer, and he types again quickly. “There were only ten people this time. I’m running the background checks and looking into their school files.”

“Ten,” I snort. “Lower than last year.” Maybe they’re wising up and running for the hills.

Usually, there’s more. Of course, not everyone makes it through the initiations. Or they go to another frat to fulfill their gang or Mafia dreams.

Everyone is so eager to join our frat and reap the benefits of our organization. Salivating to get a spot next to us and on Franco’s radar. God only knows why. Who the fuck wants to commit crimes and run a part of California for a living?

It’s tiresome.

Sometimes I wonder if the new recruits have any idea what they’re signing up for in the first place.

Popularity? Money? Notoriety?

They think it’s all to live on Syndicate Row. Party all night long with the other students and hookup with girl after girl. Everyone who is anyone on campus wants to be there. Be in our presence. With us. In our frat. The Franco Syndicate.

The most powerful gang in Southern California, leaching into other parts of the United States. Vegas. New York. Florida. Illinois. North Carolina.

You name it. Franco has his claws in it. He’s a damn disease that needs to be wiped out of existence.

Some way. Somehow.

We’ll change the trajectory of our lives. It takes time. Planning. Well, more planning than we did before. More doing than we did before.

“Now, the question is, do we take them all on and let them all compete?” I ask, rubbing at my chin. “Or do we…” Fabricate their background checks and make every single one of them ineligible for our frat?

JJ’s lips part as if he’s about to answer, but he’s cut off.

“Of fucking course we take them all on!” Mack announces gleefully, marching through the front door with determination written on his face. Sweat drips down his bare chest and trickles off his shaggy blond hair as he shakes his head like a damn dog, flinging his disgusting sweat everywhere.

“Gross,” JJ nearly snarls, covering his face with his arms. “You’re a damn animal.” He scowls, sending a death glare in Mack’s direction.