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The houses are huge, too, since all our parents are pretty wealthy. So, most everyone who doesn’t really know us, which is honestly everyone outside our group, thinks of us as spoiled brats. They don’t know all the ugliness that’s gone on in our homes. Of how we were broken. Of how our parents—if you can even call them that—got that wealth that they flash around for the entire town to see.
Money and power. That’s all our families care about. And that kind of mentality makes people do messed-up stuff, makes them cold and uncaring.
But Jax, Zay, and I left all that behind the start of our senior year when we moved out of our homes and into our own place and started our own business. Our parents weren’t happy at all, mostly because it made them look bad, as if their children didn’t want to be part of the family anymore. Which is completely true. And if I’m being honest, what happened this morning is exactly what I’ve been expecting to happen since the day we moved out.
It started with my wicked wench of a stepmom knocking on the front door of our two-story home in the small neighborhood we live in. While the place isn’t a dump, it’s also nowhere near close to the mansion I grew up in, which is what I wanted—to remain lowkey and live a normal life. Well, for the most part. Our job choice is anything but normal. But hardly anyone knows about what we do.
The Raven Three. That’s what we call our company. And our job business description includes hacking, digging up intel, tracking someone down, and pretty much anything that has to do with solving a mystery for someone. We’re basically a private investigative business, although we don’t call ourselves that. We learned all our skills from the best, too, since my father has several private investigators on hand for his business. Having grown up around it, we got to learn the trade, and now we use it to our benefit. We have to remain anonymous as possible, though, which we do.
Creating the business allowed us to move out of the house and gave us a chance at attempting to live a semi-normal life, minus the whole PI thing. But I should’ve known better. You can’t be a Hathingford and live a normal life. No, in order to be one, you have to be corrupt—it’s how my family got and kept their wealth and status. And everyone with the last name has to play their part, something I am reminded of when I step out onto the front porch of my home.
She didn’t even knock, which causes me to startle.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out with my hand pressed to my chest as I stumble back.
Once I see who it is, I start to turn to go back in the house where I plan on locking the door and staying in there until she leaves.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she tells me with a warning tone. “Unless you want this,” she pauses, her tone oozing with sarcasm as she eyeballs the house, “lovely little set up of yours to be over.” She grins as I grit my teeth and stay put.
A few of my neighbors are wandering around and eyeballing the scene. I don’t blame them. On top of her shiny red Porsche parked out front, she’s wearing a red dress, a leather jacket, and a diamond necklace. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess she was going out clubbing, but this is how she always looks—overly dressed with sparkly things decorating her. She’s kind of a sparkly thing herself, being about fifteen years younger than my father. The only reason she married him was for his money and power. She doesn’t love him, doesn’t care that he sleeps around, doesn’t care about anything except what she wants. And she’ll do anything to get it.
Anything.
“Smart boy,” she says, her grin broadening, her gaze trailing over me.
I hate when she looks at me. I often dream about a day when I can gouge out her eyes so she can never look at anyone again. But my father has made a rule that she’s off limits, and if I break any of my father’s rules while I’m still living in town, Jax, Zay, and I will be punished for it. I know it sounds crazy, but trust me, that’s how much power my father has over this town. And me.
“What do you want?” I bite out, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorframe, trying to appear more confident than I really am.
She doesn’t answer right away, just smiles at me, toying with me—her favorite thing to do.
She once told me I was her favorite toy, but it never really made any sense, since she did everything in her power to break me.
But I didn’t break. I’m still standing here. Granted, I wish she wasn’t here.
“One of your father’s employees has bailed out,” she informs me.
By bailed out, she means either he ran or is currently at the bottom of a lake somewhere.
I lift my brows at her. “So? What does that have to do with me?”
“He needs you and your little friends to fill in,” she explains, fiddling with one of her earrings.
I promptly shake my head. “No way.” I step back inside and move to shut the door, but she slams her palm against it.
“If you don’t do this, he’ll make your life a living hell. And you should know better than anyone that he can very well do that.”
My fingers curl inward, my fingernails piercing my flesh. I want to scream out a protest, but know she’s right. I hate how much I know she’s right.
“I’ll just do it,” I tell her. “Zay and Jax don’t need to get involved.” Deep down, I know this is a pointless argument. Because Zay’s father and Jax’s father work with my dad so, more than likely, they’ve sent the wicked wench to deliver messages to their sons, too.
She rolls her eyes. “You know that’s not how this is going to work. Their fathers have instructed that they be part of this, too.” She smiles at me. “Your first job is tonight.”
“What’s the job?” I ask, not really wanting to hear the answer. But eventually, I’m going to have to, so I might as well rip off the Band-Aid.
“For now, you’re going to be doing intel on the new sheriff,” she explains, her heels clicking against the front porch as she backs away. “You’re to find out what sort of guy he is then report back to me.”
While it sounds easy enough, spying on the sheriff is never a good thing. Plus, if the dude turns out to be a good guy, my father will do everything in his power to ruin his life and get him fired. Because, if he can’t be bought off, then my father can’t continue running his illegal businesses that range from drug trafficking to illegal underground casinos. Yeah, he’s a real winner.
