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“Yes, I did.” I squeezed his arm. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Have you seen Mom and Dad yet?” Ethan asked, catching my attention.
With a shake of my head, I peered around the gym. I didn’t want to say too much with strangers nearby. “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you all first. Is there somewhere we can have some privacy?”
The tension in the room spiked, and Ethan’s expression tightened. “Is everything okay?”
“Not sure,” I replied.
Ethan nodded toward the hallway. “Come on. We can head to the back.”
I followed behind him, and everyone came with us. Once inside the vacant room, Ethan shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest while the others rested their concerned eyes on me.
“What’s going on?” Ethan demanded.
Reagan stepped up beside me. “Show them the letter, Em.”
The guys exchanged curious glances as I reached into my purse. It confirmed that none of them had received one. I pulled out the envelope and handed it to Ethan. “This was left at my apartment. There’s no postmark or return address.”
Ethan slid the black card out and opened it, his expression dark as he read the words. “What the fuck?” He passed it to Ripp, and once he was done, he handed it to Brooks and Braden, who then gave it back to me. I couldn’t even stomach to reread it.
“Guys, am I being paranoid? I feel like it’s serious.” I glanced down at the closed card. “When I read it, it literally turns my blood cold.”
“Do you think it could be tied to what happened to our parents years ago?” Reagan suggested. “The words specifically say ‘the sins of your family.’ That doesn’t just include our father,” she reiterated, gesturing at Ethan and me. “It means Uncle Cam too. We’re family.”
Ripp and Brooks exchanged weary glances before settling them on me. “I don’t know what all Uncle Ryley’s told you,” Brooks began, “but our father’s been pretty honest about his past. He did some shitty things, things you won’t find in any news article on the internet.”
Ripp blew out a sigh and pinned his blue eyes on me. “What do you know about the Dark Side?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Only what I’ve read and what my dad told us. He was forced to fight there, just like your parents,” I said, acknowledging Braden. And that included his mother. The Dark Side was an underground organization that a man named Scar put together. The fighting was brutal. People died, and a lot went missing, presumably dead. It was a place where you could fulfill your sickest, most disgusting, and violent desires.
Braden’s jaw tensed. “My dad was called the Reaper. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what his job was. He has the skull tattoo of the Dark Side, just like Camden.” This was true. Camden and Paxton were deep into the workings of the Dark Side. My dad was forced in because of Camden, so he didn’t have the skull tattoo.
Ethan waved a hand at me. “Can I see the note again?”
I gave it to him, and he read the words aloud, sending chills down my spine. “Whoever sent this was physically at your apartment building?”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “Yes.”
“Fuck,” he hissed, handing the note back. “If you tell Dad, he won’t let you go back to New York by yourself.”
“I know. That’s why I need you all to promise you won’t say anything until we figure this out,” I urged, acknowledging each of them. “Hopefully, it’s just a sick, twisted prank. But if not, and I hate to say it, it’s got me scared. If this does have something to do with our parents, I don’t know why they’d come after me.”
Brooks spoke up. “That’s easy, Emma. You’re the easiest target. You’re alone in New York without any of us there with you. You’re unprotected.”
His words held truth, but it made me feel vulnerable … weak. “I can take care of myself, Brooks. I may not be a competitive fighter, but I’m still a Jameson. Fighting is in my blood.”
With a roll of his eyes, Brooks huffed. “That’s not what I’m saying, Emma.”
Ethan held up a hand. “No, Brooks, you’re right. And before you come back with a smart-ass comment,” he said to me, “hear me out. “You are the easier target because you live so far away. It might be best if you stay in California for a while. Take some time off.”
It was my plan anyway, but it didn’t make me any less angry. “So what? I have to put my life on hold?”
Reagan draped an arm over my shoulders. “Is it really so bad? You can take jobs around here. You already booked one in San Francisco. Will it honestly hurt you to stay?”
No, but it left me prone to see a certain someone I wanted to avoid. I could handle a week, but more than that? I was screwed.
“If this is connected to Scar or whoever was involved with the Dark Side,” I pointed out, “they will find me here and think I’m afraid.”
