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Not even when I snuck into my aunt’s house while she was out at Bingo, like she always was on Wednesday nights. Or when I doused my uncle’s bedroom in gasoline and set it on fire.
Grey didn’t come out until the windows were bright with orange flame and inside, we could hear my uncle screaming until he didn’t scream anymore.
He sat with me, slung his arm over my shoulder, and didn’t say a fucking word until the firetrucks and police and ambulances showed up. With all the chaos, they didn’t even notice we were there, tucked away in the dark entry of the abandoned house across the street. It wasn’t until they had the fire almost completely subdued that he stood up and extended his hand.
“Best barbecue I’ve ever been to,” he said. “But I think we should get back before anyone notices we left.”
That was when I knew: he was more than a kid I met at some lame excuse for a group home. He was my brother.
I could still taste the phantom flavor of gasoline on my tongue. Acrid and tangy. I licked my lips.
“Well, Frank,” I said, stretching out my kinks as I stood again, snubbing out my cigarette on the top of his charred skull. “It’s been a pleasure.”
Grey cursed when I stepped into the doorway to leave and almost ran him over. He grimaced, and I wasn’t sure whether it was me or Frank that offended him. Probably both. I was almost as covered in gore as our buddy inside.
It took me a second to register why he was standing awkwardly, his hand clutching his upper arm.
“The hell happened to you?” I asked, my veins flooding with heat. My hand jerking back in case I needed to draw my gun. I peered over his shoulder, looking. Listening.
Grey pushed past me, using one hand to dig around the various tools of my trade. “I thought I heard something,” he said. “Ran into the trees to check it out and sliced myself good.”
“On what?” I asked, scrutinizing the amount of blood soaking his arm. Still trying to squeeze past his fingers. “Are trees growing fucking razorblades?”
“Do you still have that stitch kit in here or not?” he hissed, shooting me a glare. I didn’t miss how his eyes kept darting outside.
Either he was expecting company, or he didn’t want Corvus to see this.
“Rook?” he pressed. “A little fucking help, bro?”
I gave my head a shake, deciding I didn’t exactly care what happened, as long as the idiot didn’t let it happen again. Hopefully, he learned his lesson.
I knocked a still smoking Frank from his chair and brushed off his ashes. “Sit down. I’ll get the kit.”
“You think Bri will be there?”I asked Becca as we got in her Audi, the all-black interior swallowing us up before she started the ignition and the dash came to life, painting her in shades of blue.
Becca pulled out of the school lot, giving me a curious look. “Why? You miss her?”
Turned out she went on a shopping trip to LA. Or at least, that’s what Becca thought. Bri went every year around this time for some big annual sale a designer put on in the fall. It would be just my luck if she got back in time for the party.
“So much it hurts,” I replied, my voice dripping sarcasm.
It was a relief not having to deal with Bri the last few days, but I’d still had to weather the Crows this morning. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t just a little bit on edge walking into homeroom, not knowing whether or not Grey would hold to his word to keep last night’s unfortunate rendezvous between us.
It seemed he had, though. Corvus was his usual quiet, menacing self. Rook looked almost...serene.And Grey? Grey just kept on fucking staring at me. Not even bothering to try to hide it, either. Earned himself a solid jab to the ribs by Corvus at one point, too. Though I didn’t know why.
Best not to question it.
Not to even think about it at all.
Banishing all thoughts of the Crows from my mind, I sank back in the seat, letting the supple leather conform to my curves. “Hey, nice car by the way.”
“Thanks.”
I took note of how the passenger side seat was slid all the way back and lowered, as though someone tall frequently sat in it. I wanted to ask, but it wasn’t any of my business. I wondered if he was handsome. Older, I was betting. Maybe a teacher?
Becca had the air of someone much older than she was. I could totally see her banging a teacher. I just hoped it wasn’t that Harry Potter wannabe from homeroom.Ugh. Or Mr. Williams from AP math. That guy gave me the creeps.
“What?” Becca asked after a few minutes of quiet driving. “Do I have something on my face?”
