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“Great,” I mumble, watching as Lilith continues past the gates on the side of King and Perse’s, no doubt making her way back to the lake house.
“Does she know that it’s like a three hour walk to the lake house? And is she hurt? She has a lot of blood on her.” Cartier’s questions don’t do anything to balm my anger. I grab the collar of my shirt and pull it off, wrapping it around my knuckles that are still bleeding.
Cartier’s eyes fall to them. “What the fuck happened and where’s Eli?”
I sidestep away from her, jumping onto my bike that’s parked on the drive and firing her up. I don’t bother with Cartier’s questions, because no doubt there will only be more. I need to get to that fucking bunker, and I need to get there now. Obviously, our parents know something we don’t, and the longer I’m here waiting, the more time they have to decide they won’t tell us. “I’ll send the Doc over to you!”
I squeeze the throttle and jolt forward, annoyed with how much space everything is taking up in my head. I need to go and talk with our parents and then hit the track to clear my head. I hear the rest of The Brothers bikes scream up behind me, but I don’t bother looking. We’re all headed to the same place, and I know that if given enough time, one of them is going to piss me off.
Kicking up the stand of my bike, I start walking toward the hatch that leads down into the bunker when a hand comes to my arm.
“Ky…”
I turn to face King. “What?”
“We gonna talk about everything that happened?”
“No.” I turn back around, but he stops me again.
“I need to tell you something…”
“I don’t want to fucking hear it, King.” I squeeze the metal latch to lift the airtight seal, his next words hitting me like a ton of bricks. “He’s gone, bro. He gave her ten years.”
“What?” I narrow my eyes. “What do you mean, ten years? And who the fuck is this Kennedy person really if she has enough pull to fuck with not only us, but The Kings, too?” I take another step toward him, tilting my head. “Unless you know something that I don’t?”
“I don’t,” King says, his eyes pinned on mine. King is a good fucking liar, but he isn’t right now. He’s a man of order and structure, and will lie if needed, but this doesn’t fall into that category. “But I get what you’re saying. The only thing is, is that we know Kennedy and Patience, Ky. They’re done. Lilith has The Dolls at her disposal. She killed Kij, the last standing runner, and now Kennedy is on the run and desperate. We have the last of their soldiers, look right down there” —he points to the entrance to the bunker—“so no, I don’t think she’s someone who we don’t know.”
“Then what?” Killian asks, leaning against his bike.
“Then she has something that we want.”
“Yeah.” I glare at Keaton and his little two cents. “She has fucking Eli.”
Killian shakes his head. “Nah, man. It’s something else. She has something on Eli, or The Kings. She’s using him as a way to stay alive.”
I flick the hatch and pull the cover wide. “I’m about three seconds from killing someone, and I’d prefer to do it without our parents all waiting.”
I hook my foot on the ladder and move down, dropping onto the concrete floor once I hit the bottom. The bunker is designed in one big line, with rooms going off each for different reasons. I head down the hallway, lights lighting up above us as we come through. Having The Four Fathers here should be alarming, but because of all the current events, I have no doubt they’re here more to talk business and less about what’s been happening with Patience.
Once I reach the conference room, I open the door to everyone. A rectangle table sits in the middle, with leather chairs tucked beneath. A single light hangs from the ceiling, hovering just above the table, and a single TV hangs on the wall opposite where Kauis is seated.
“So good of you all to be here.” Our mothers aren’t here, so that’s a bonus, since most of them are the ones who run the tight ship. “Take a seat.” Kauis points to the empty chairs. “You’re probably all wondering why I called you here today, and I bet you’re all wrong.”
I take out my cigarettes, waiting for him to pull up some talk about how we need to get back on the road or we’re going to be doing an international tour to make up for money lost—like we fucking need it. We don’t. Midnight Mayhem is a billion-dollar business enterprise, and The Brothers of Kiznitch families are all on the Forbes list. But as my dad always says, the reason why we are the way we are is because we all worked to get there. Billionaires don’t get lazy; they get richer.
