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But I was desperate enough to go to Mason about it. Not that I felt entirely comfortable approaching Mason about anything.
We didn’t like each other, and given the way he stared at me whenever he saw me with the twins, I knew something was pissing him off. But he was the only member of the Inferno I had anything to do with, so he was the best choice.
The conversation was pleasant at first, our first real truce for all of fifteen minutes when he explained even the group had no idea.
Unfortunately, it went downhill from there, and I walked away with a warning that if I cause problems with the twins, there would be hell to pay for it.
As it turned out, I did cause problems.
I just haven’t yet paid the price.
Which is why I shouldn’t have accepted the twins’presentat the engagement party, and also why I’ve been hiding in my house for two days since.
I’ve never asked a damn thing from the Inferno, but that doesn’t mean I don’t owe them.
A night that left me scarred, both physically and emotionally, was also a night that put me on the Inferno shit-list, a sad truth I’ve kept to myself.
Not even Ivy or Ava know the full story of what happened. And maybe if I hide for the rest of my life, I can keep it that way.
I betrayed the twins.
I broke a promisebeforethey left for college.
I was the reason they went to jail that night.
And the entire Inferno knows it.
It’s too bad my traveling days are over now that I’m engaged. It would be nice to hide out in Germany or Italy, Greece or even Romania, if it meant I’d be as far away from this mess as possible.
“Not anymore, killer...You broke the promise. Not me.”
It sounded like an innocent comment, didn’t it?
Something as simple as me not picking up a phone.
Except there was a warning in those words that stretched back ten years, and you would have to know what the promise was to understand what he meant.
To put it mildly, I’m fucked.
I know it.
The Inferno knows it.
The only people who don’t know it are my closest friends. And I have to keep it that way if I have any hope of protecting them from the fallout.
No matter how bad things get, I have to keep my mouth shut. It shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve had a lifetime of practice pretending to be perfectly happy in a life where I’m trapped.
We need to talk...
Those are never good words to hear, no matter where they’re coming from.
I certainly hadn’t expected them.
Almost ignoring the text, I’d stared at my phone for twenty minutes, tapping my nails against the plastic before I finally shot off an answer agreeing to that conversation.
It’s been two hours since, and when someone knocks on my door with a quick three taps, I close my eyes and prepare myself for what’s coming.
Pushing to my feet, I cross the room on silent steps, a shaky breath leaking out of me as I grip the handle and twist.
