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I don’t like this at all.
And I don’t trust my brother.
I never have.
For many fucked up reasons. Reasons that not even Jax and Hunter know about.
“Aw … Look at my baby bro, standing around and sulking.”
Speak of the devil.
My brother appears from the crowd and drapes an arm around my shoulders.
I have my arms crossed, my infamous broody mask on, and tension is flowing through my body. I’m sure he can feel it—how wound up I am.
“Fuck off,” I mumble, eyeing the crowd.
I’d been upstairs for a while, watching the cameras, but I knew I had to make an appearance. So, I came down here, part of me secretly wanting to check on Raven, too.
When I was watching the cameras, she’d been in the garage with Hunter, playing beer pong. But by the time I got down there, they were gone. So, I wandered into the living room to see if they had gone there. The crowd is thick, though, and the lights have been dimmed, so it’s hard to see anything. It’s making me twitchy—not knowing where she is. And that in itself is making me even more twitchy.
I shouldn’t care.
For all I know, she could be playing us.
Stop caring.
Just stop.
My brother chuckles. “Man, she’s got you all wound up, doesn’t she?”
His words send a jolt of tension through me, but I try to play calm.
“Who?” I ask, even though I’m fairly certain of the answer.
“Your pretty little raven,” he replies, his tone shifting into something cold, which reminds me a lot of how our father speaks to me.
I turn my head and look at him. He’s grinning, but it’s an emotionless grin—a taunting one.
“What the hell did you do?” I ask, because somehow I just know.
My brother, while not as cold as my father, has never been that great of a sibling to me. He used to torment the shit out of me when I was younger, beating me up, locking me in closets, letting his friends join in. It was brotherly fun, people used to say.
People fucking suck.
“Oh, you know, just breaking your little bird and basically handing myself the win in this game.” He gives my shoulder a rough squeeze. “You should’ve told her yourself.”
“Told her what?” But I think I already know the answer.
“Now, Zay, I lived with you for long enough to know when you’re full of shit,” he says over the music pulsating in the air. “I also know how you work, so I know that when your friends brought some stranger into your group, you were pissed and more than likely tried to dig up information on her. I’m also betting there was a familiarity about her, right?” His smile is cruel.
I hate him.
I hate him so much.
“You should’ve told her first,” he says in a taunting whisper. “But it’s good for me that you like to avoid issues that are difficult for you. It left me the perfect opening to break up your team and give mine the perfect opportunity to win.”
“We’re in the same damn family,” I snap, shoving him back and drawing attention.
