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After carefully placing the bike out of sight of the house, I turned on the little torch I’d brought with me and made my way into the dark interior.
As soon as I made it onto the upstairs landing, and I was debating whether to go left or right, I heard a soft creak which sounded like it came from the right. My heart was pounding so hard I could almost hear it, but I reminded myself that the likelihood was that it was one of my brothers or their friends. After all, my tracking had shown that Tim was here.
When I peered around the door frame, I immediately caught sight of a fire burning in the fireplace. Smoke was pouring out into the room, and I clapped my hand over my mouth, stifling a gasp. That wasn’t good, was it? This room looked like it was one of the only ones with remaining windows, too.
Tugging my coat up over my nose and mouth, I ran for the nearest sash window, yanking it open. I gasped out a breath, the still night air filling my lungs, and as I did so, a sound came from down below.
A sound I was all too familiar with. The low, rumbling purr of a motorbike.
Zayde was here.
I needed to find Tim and speak to him before Zayde did. While Zayde had promised me that he’d stay away from my brothers, they hadn’t made any such promises—since they didn’t know anything about the two of us. And I knew that realistically, if my brothers did try anything with Zayde, he would be well within his rights to retaliate.
Turning away from the window, I made my way back to the corridor as quickly as I could and tried the next door.
By the time I’d reached the end of the corridor, I had to face it. There was no one in this part of the house. I should’ve gone left at the top of the stairs, not right.
Retracing my steps, I headed back to the staircase and then paused. Footsteps sounded overhead.
The third floor.
I had to go up.
When I reached the top, a cold breeze washed over me. This part of the house was in an even worse state than the floor below, whole sections of the roof crumbling, making the ceiling cave in, in places.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
The voice was instantly familiar.
I crept forwards.
“Why? What’s stopping you?”
Tim.
I swallowed hard. Neither of them was aware that I was here, lurking in the shadows. When I looked around the corner, holding my breath, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
The moonlight was streaming into the room in front of me. It seemed overly bright to begin with until I realised why.
Half of the wall was missing. Where the windows should have been was a huge, gaping hole.
Zayde and Tim were standing right in front of it.
EIGHT
I’d made a promise to Fallon, but it was going to be fucking impossible to keep it. Tim was on edge, his lip curled and his eyes narrowed as he clenched and unclenched his fists. Yeah, I probably could take him down without too much trouble, but if he did get hurt, then I’d have that on my conscience. My girl was pretty much the only person who gave me a conscience, so I knew it would be making itself known when it involved her brother.
The truth was, I was so fucking tired of this petty shit. Pranking each other was something that should have ended when we finished school. When you’d grown up in my world, you soon learned what was and wasn’t worth holding a grudge over. But here in this privileged world of the elite with all the rich, vacuous bullshit, playing political games and smiling at someone’s face while you stabbed them in the back, a generations-old business rivalry took on a whole importance of its own. Fuck my family name. Sometimes I hated being a Lowry. When I’d been a Smith, I’d been…well, I was just another kid on the estate. Not someone whose name was automatically associated with power and wealth.
“You really want to do this?” I raised a brow at Tim as he took a step towards me.
“Fight me, you bastard.” There was a tremor in his voice. I had the feeling that Tim was just as tired of this as I was, but like me, he’d been sucked into this.
Tugging down my bandana so he could see my face and know that I meant every word, I met his gaze head-on. “I’m not gonna be the one to throw the first punch.” Taking a step to the side, I moved away from the edge. I was close to the gap in the wall. Too close.
The loose, cracked floorboard under my feet squeaked, throwing me off balance.
Three things happened at once.
