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I look away from Jax before he can see it and slowly exhale.
I don’t want him to see the fear I’m feeling on the inside from the sound of the person’s voice filling my head.
Deep, male, and unsettling.
And it’s triggering an emotion so deep inside me—an overwhelming emotion.
Undiluted and pulsating fear.
FOURTEEN
HUNTER
She’s distracted; I can tell. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s stoned or if it’s something else. I feel like it might be something else, though, by the tension in her body. She shouldn’t be tense. She should feel good—that was the point of us getting high. Maybe it’s just that she’s nervous about the people currently filling up my living room—too many people for this early of an hour.
Yeah, when that doorbell rang about an hour ago, it ended up being Benton and a couple of his friends; a guy named James, who is so chatty he makes me look quiet, and Ellis, Benton’s right-hand man and who’s done some questionable things. I’m not a huge fan that he’s here, but I can’t really fucking do anything about it at the moment.
What is kind of weird is that Benton never really explained why they arrived so early. He just complained about the weather and asked if it was cool if they were there. It wasn’t like I was going to say no, not when he’s paying us to throw this party. Still, showing up too early is just about as annoying as showing up way too late. We weren’t even completely set up for the party. Luckily, the cameras were so that we didn’t have to try to sneak around and do it, since Benton wants it to be a secret.
Zay is currently upstairs in the attic, where we put the computer that shows the cameras' views, and I’m guessing he’s probably watching them to see if anything looks off. But with Zay, it’s hard to tell for sure. For all I know, he could be still trying to dig up dirt on Raven.
And Jax is downstairs with me, standing just inside the living room, messing around with the stereo. He’s all about the music and will probably try to play DJ all night.
And me? I’m in the kitchen with Raven.
She’s barely said anything, but that might be due to Benton and his friends being around. She went from chatty to guarded the moment they walked in. It didn’t help that one of Benton’s friends, James, was eye-fucking her from the moment he stepped over the threshold. Not that Raven noticed—the girl is smart as hell when it comes to a lot of things, but not when it comes to how beautiful she is.
Like really, really damn beautiful.
I got one photo of her. Although I wanted to take more, I didn’t want to push her. I haven’t developed it yet, but I’ve taken enough photos to know when something will turn out soul-moving, and this one is for sure.
Ever since then, she acts like she’s about to crawl out of her skin.
We’re getting some plastic cups and plates. Or, well, I’m digging them out of the panty while she stares off into space just behind me. I flick a glance over my shoulder and frown at the sight of her standing there with her arms wrapped around herself, looking as if she’s about to break apart.
I set the cups and plates down and face her. “Raven, baby.”
She jolts, her gaze snapping toward me. Then she blinks, puzzlement crossing her features. “Huh?”
Something’s wrong.
With a drop of hesitancy, I step toward her and cup her face between my hands. “What’s up, baby?”
“Nothing,” she says in an emotionless tone.
“No, I can tell something’s up.” I skim my finger along her cheekbone. Damn, her skin is so soft. “So, just tell me.” I give her a small smile. “So I can make you feel better.”
She swallows audibly. “It’s really nothing. I’m just nervous about the party.”
I can tell she’s lying by the flatness in her tone and the avoidance of my gaze. It’s not even just that. I can just tell she’s holding something in. Like my mind remembers her—Willow—and how she used to bottle stuff in. Jax and I would always have to dig the truth out of her. Zay was never good at that kind of stuff, but he was her protector. She was ours, though, too. It was such a beautiful thing—the four of us untiltheybroke it.
Just like they break everything that is innocent and beautiful.
“That’s not it,” I say softly. “I can tell something’s bothering you, so please just tell me. I … Holding it in never helps.”
I would know. I hide everything behind a mask of smiles and sex. That’s all I appear to be, and that’s all I’ve wanted anyone to see for a damn long time.
She stares up at me with her big, bloodshot eyes. She’s clearly stoned, and I can see confliction, either because she’s confused or is debating whether to tell me the truth. Part of me feels bad, because I know if she does confess whatever is worrying her, it might be due to her being high.
