Brock and Grayson exchanged a brief glance, but it was enough to set uneasiness squirming in my chest.

  “With you under their thumb, they can use you as leverage. A bargaining chip. They can force the Vipers’ hand and make them surrender what your father spent his life building.” Grayson’s gaze sharpened, voice dropping low. “Your dad didn’t just build the Nest, Kay. He hid things in it, things bigger than drugs, bigger than money.”

  I swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”

  “Ledgers. Records. Names,” Brock cut in. “Politicians, cops, businessmen—all the assholes who kept the city in his pocket. He wrote it all down. Insurance. Blackmail. Enough dirt to bury half of Elmwood alive if it ever saw the light of day. Where do you think we get half of our intel?” Brock’s brows lifted. “That’s what Donovan’s after. Not just you. Not just revenge for his wife. If he controls you, he controls that legacy. He can use you to unlock everything your dad left behind.”

  I shook my head, my stomach twisting. “I don’t have any of that. I don’t know where it is.”

  Grayson leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees, his eyes never leaving mine. “You don’t have to know. You are the key. The bloodline. The heir. As long as you’re breathing, you’re leverage to be used to give up this information, and every crew in this city knows it.”

  Cold sank into my bones, heavier than the snow still clinging to my boots. My father’s sins were chained to me, inked into my skin like some invisible mark I couldn’t scrub away.

  Brock sighed, rubbing a hand down the stubble peeking from his chin. “It’s a fight you never should have been brought into. I’m telling you what your father would want me to say. You don’t want to get mixed up in that world. He didn’t want that for you.”

  A shiver crawled down my spine, but I refused to look away. “So what the hell am I supposed to do?”

  He braced a hand on the counter, casual in a way that felt anything but, a glint gleaming behind his eyes. “I should tell you to leave, to get the hell out of Elmwood.”

  “Is that what you would do?”

  “I think you know the answer to that. If it were me, I’d go back to school.”

  I blinked. “What? Isn’t that the opposite of what I should do?”

  “Probably,” he agreed, but the calculation in his expression didn’t change. “Lying low is an option. Or…you walk into Public with your head high, and you show them that they didn’t break you. That you’re stronger than their lies. That you won’t fucking run and hide. That they don’t own you. You take your life back.”

  The words hit deep inside me. “Rusty won’t like that. He thinks I should stay hidden, tucked away somewhere in the middle of nowhere.”

  “And then what?” The question dangled for a moment between us. “The decision is yours, but it’s going to take more than a house in the woods to stop the Ravens from finding you. Take my word for it. If it were me, I wouldn’t stop.”

  He was right. If I disappeared, if I let them win, then I was exactly what they wanted me to be, weak and afraid.

  “I’m not saying be reckless,” Brock added. “You’re not alone. You have us now. And you know the truth; that’s power right there.”

  Before I responded, the doorbell rang.

  Grayson pushed out of his chair and made his way to the door, grabbing the takeout bag from the delivery guy without a word.

  My cousin sat back down, his expression turning serious. “Take a few days. Think about it,” he said, sliding a container toward me. “But the Corvos only win if you let them. You have more fire in your veins. The Kaylor I know wouldn’t hide. She’d fight back.”

  I swallowed hard. He was right. Life had beaten me down lately, but I was still the girl who didn’t take shit from anyone. Certainly not some moody bad boy from the other side of town.

  “The cycle of retaliation ends with you, Kaylor,” Brock continued. “Or we hit back. Revenge is my specialty. Either way, I’ll back you. And I’ll do whatever it takes, starting with seeing if I can get our lawyers to discredit your father’s altered will. There might be an original copy out there. And if there is, Fynn can find it.”

  I should be a little afraid of what means of revenge he was willing to take, but I wasn’t. Brock and the Elite were damn good at what they did.

  Brock and Grayson left hours ago, giving me space, but now that I had it, I didn’t know what to do with myself. They couldn’t stay but would have if I had asked. And he asked. Repeatedly, but the truth was, I needed a moment to myself; although at the same time, I feared being alone.

  Being in Brock’s house was so different than being in an isolated cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. There was a strange comfort here, a pulse of normalcy the cabin had lacked. Out there, it had felt like the world had ended. Here, it just kept spinning.

  Before leaving, Brock had ordered groceries, fully stocking the kitchen and leaving me with one of his credit cards. He assured me that Fynn would monitor the house and grounds through the security system and gave me a quick rundown of how it worked. If I were ever in trouble, a button was all it took to alert the police.

  Now I had to deal with Rusty. That was a call I wasn’t looking forward to. Hopefully, he was still at the shop and hadn’t returned to the cabin and found me missing. He would assume the worst, that the Ravens were involved. I should have left a note. The last thing I wanted was to add to the strife between the crews.

  Unlocking my phone, I wavered between my phone app and the text app, my finger hovering midair. Fuck it. I sent Rusty a quick text, letting him know I appreciated everything he’d done, but I needed a few days to myself. I told him not to worry, I was safe, and I’d be in touch soon, leaving it at that. I had a feeling he wouldn’t be happy about my choice, which made a text easier.

  I could only handle so much shit in a day, and my brain was currently clogged with all things Corvo. What I needed was a shower to clear my mind. I did my best decision-making in the shower, scrubbing all the gunk off me physically and metaphorically.

  I took one of the guest rooms upstairs but stopped at Brock’s bedroom to grab some sweats. I didn’t think he would mind if I borrowed some. Eventually, I would have to figure out what to do about clothes…and my life. Thanks to Donovan and his illegal alteration of my parents’ will, I didn’t have access to a single penny. Even if I managed to prove his fraud, by then, he could have taken or spent every cent my parents worked for.

  Nothing seemed clear to me. It was all still so confusing and impossible to believe. This couldn’t be real. It was easier to believe I’d wake up from this nightmare than it was to accept how messed up my life was.

  I was so fucking mad at myself for being so trusting, for letting Kreed in, for thinking for a second that Donovan might have had my best interest in mind. I’d wanted so bad to be out of that house, but now that I was on the other side, it wasn’t better. I wasn’t happier.

  Just the opposite.

  I never felt more alone or lost.

  Dragging myself toward the attached bathroom, I turned the water on as hot as I could stand it and stripped off my clothes. Steam filled the room, thick and suffocating, but I welcomed it. Stepping under the spray, I let the scalding water pound against my back, tilting my head down as droplets streamed over my face.

  I scrubbed my skin harder than necessary as if I could erase the last few days, the confusion, the betrayal, and the way my body still reacted when I thought about him.

  Kreed.

  Fuck him.

  He made his choice. He played with my life, helped manipulate me, and let me believe I could trust him. That I could want him.

  And yet…

  I slammed my palm against the tile, letting out a breath.

  I didn’t want to miss him. Didn’t want my heart to squeeze every time I thought about the way he looked at me, touched me, and made me feel like I was his. I should hate him. I did hate him. “I hate him,” I murmured, thinking saying it out loud would make it true, but at the same time, I hated myself more for still caring. For still feeling anything at all.

  As I braced my hands against the shower wall, drops of water rolled down my skin as I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Screw them.

  Screw Kreed. Screw Donovan. Screw the Corvos.

  Brock was right. I couldn’t hide. Or more like I didn’t want to. They had fucked with the wrong girl. I would finish my senior year at Public, graduate, and make the Raven Crew wish they had never set eyes on me.

  I wasn’t normally a vindictive person, but circumstances had changed me, and the fire kindling in my blood crackled for revenge.

  Even if it killed me to see him…to see them.

  5

  KREED

  The second I stepped into Elmwood Public Monday morning, I scanned the halls, searching for Poppy. I didn’t give a damn about the whispers that followed me as I moved through the crowd. People always stared. Envied me. Feared me. That wasn’t new, but today, I wasn’t in the mood for their bullshit.

  I needed to find her.

  I caught sight of Poppy near the lockers, rummaging through her bag. She wasn’t hard to spot—bright red hair, black combat boots, distressed stockings, and an oversized hoodie that swallowed her frame. The moment I strode up, her head snapped to me, and her expression twisted into a scowl. “What the hell do you⁠—”

  “Have you heard from Kaylor?” I cut her off.

  Her scowl morphed into confusion as she slipped her bag strap over her shoulder. “You mean you don’t know where she is?”

  No. And that fact alone was enough to make me fucking unhinged. “She’s gone,” I gritted out.

  Poppy’s brow furrowed, concern flashing across her face. “What do you mean gone? Like…dead.”

  “God, no. She’s fine… I think.”

  Her gold eyes widened. “What the fuck happened, Kreed? Where is she?”

  I clenched my jaw, inhaling deeply through my nose. “I mean, she’s not at the Corvo estate, and she sure as hell isn’t answering my calls.”

  Poppy hesitated, then shook her head. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I haven’t been able to get a hold of her since Friday night…since the game.” She swallowed hard. “Since we snuck out and those guys took her.”

  My stomach twisted. I already knew what happened that night, knew Kaylor walked away from me, chose the Vipers, but hearing it out loud sent a fresh wave of fury through me.

  I ran a hand over my face. Think, Kreed. Focus.

  I needed to find her.

  I needed to talk to her.

  Poppy was my best shot at making that happen. “Listen,” I said, deciding to be as straightforward as I could. “I need your help.”

  Poppy slammed her locker door shut with a metallic clang that vibrated down the hallway. She turned slowly, arms folding across her chest like a barrier she had no intention of lowering. “Why the hell would I help you?”

  I didn’t flinch. Just leaned against the wall, one boot scuffing the floor as I held her stare. “Because you’re worried about her. And so am I.”

  Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as if searching for the lie between my words. “Is she avoiding you or something?”

  “Or something,” I conceded, the corner of my mouth twitching though there wasn’t a trace of amusement behind it. “Will you help me, Poppy?”

  She tilted her head, studying me like I was a strange specimen under glass. “Never thought I’d hear those words from Kreed Corvo’s mouth.”

  “I’m asking nicely,” I replied.

  “And if I refuse?”

  I straightened, just a little, letting the quiet stretch, letting her feel what I wasn’t saying. “Then we move to me not asking nicely. Either way, I’ll find out where she is. Don’t give me a reason to unleash what I’m barely restraining.”

  Hesitation fluttered across her face, perhaps. A sliver of fear she quickly masked. “Why is this so important to you? It’s not like you haven’t been a complete dick to her.”

  “A complete dick, huh? I’ll own that, but I don’t have time to explain everything,” I said. “But the people she’s with? They’re dangerous.”

  She arched a brow, lips parting slightly. “More dangerous than you?”

  My gaze held hers. “Yeah.”

  Her arms dropped an inch, and the sarcasm drained from her face. “Holy shit. You’re not kidding.”

  “I wish I were.”

  Poppy shook her head slowly, almost like she couldn’t believe she was about to say what she did. “It’s hard to imagine someone worse than you and your brothers.”

  I huffed a breath. “Cute.”

  She hesitated. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

  “Will you text her or call her?” I asked. “Set up a meeting. Tell her you want to see her. But don’t tell her I’ll be there.”

  Poppy’s expression darkened. “That’s a horrible idea.”

  I sighed, my patience wearing thin. “Poppy⁠—”

  “No, seriously,” she cut me off, glaring. “If Kaylor wanted to talk to you, she would. You wouldn’t need me to play fucking messenger. Not to mention, I’ve tried calling her. It seems she doesn’t want to talk to either of us.”

  The words stung, but I pushed through them. “I don’t care. I need to see her. Reach out to her friends from the Academy. They might know where she is.”

  Poppy let out a breath. She’d never seen me like this before. No one had, and maybe that’s why, after a long moment, she muttered, “Shit,” under her breath. “Fine. I’ll try again. But only because I need to know she’s okay.”

  Relief cut through me.

  “Don’t get too excited, Corvo,” Poppy added, pointing a finger at my chest, “if she hates me for this, I’m blaming you. And after I do this, you’ll tell me why she’s in so much danger that it has you on edge.”

  I’d agree to anything, but it didn’t mean I would deliver. I just needed Poppy to say yes.

  Mason leaned against my desk, his arms crossed, watching as I sent Poppy the phone numbers he’d dug up for Kaylor’s friends from Elmwood Academy. It was scary the personal data you could pay to acquire online. “You sure about this?” he asked, his fingers messing up his hair.

  “No,” I muttered, tossing my phone onto the bed. “But I’m doing it anyway.”

  The card flipping between Mason’s fingers halted. “She’s not gonna be happy to see you.”

  “No shit.”

  “She might actually try to kill you.”

  I gave him a flat look. “If she wanted me dead, she wouldn’t have run.”

  Mason smirked, but there was something behind it, something thoughtful. “Maybe she’s plotting her revenge. I still think you should let me go instead.”

  I already knew where this was headed. “Not happening.”

  “Come on, man. She hates you right now. Me? She hates less than you.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  Mason shrugged. “Might be easier for her to talk to someone she doesn’t associate with breaking her heart.”

  My fists clasped at the word. “Yeah? And what exactly would you say to her?”

  “I don’t know. Probably something like ‘Hey, sorry we kidnapped you and manipulated you into trusting us, but in our defense, we kind of like you now.’”

  I shot him a glare.

  Mason smirked again, but his expression sobered. “Look, I get it. You need to talk to her. Just… don’t make it worse.”

  My jaw locked.

  Mason sighed, pushing off the desk, dropping the joker card on top of the table. “I can’t believe you’re going rogue. Do whatever the fuck you want, but if you come back looking like she took a baseball bat to your ribs, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  I didn’t bother responding because I already knew the risk, and I was taking it anyway. I couldn’t keep living with this feeling inside me.

  Needing an outlet for the turmoil buzzing and the nagging impatience within me, I headed downstairs to our home gym, letting loose on the punching bag. It was either the hundred-fifty-pound bag or someone’s face. The urge to drown myself in booze was just another reason to wear myself out in the gym. It was too easy to get drunk and forget her name. The only problem was I had yet to find out how much booze it would take. She never seemed to stray from my mind.

  It was easy to convince myself I was tracking Kaylor for my father, but it was an excuse. I wanted to find her for purely selfish reasons, and it was time I acknowledged that I didn’t just want her back; I wanted her.

  There was also the fact that there was a mole in her father’s crew, and no matter how many pieces I tried to force into the puzzle, I couldn’t figure out who it was, and my father sure as hell wasn’t volunteering the information. He had an arrangement. One that my father benefited from and would continue to profit from.

  Someone had been feeding him information. Detailed shit. Timelines. Movements. Conversations that should’ve never left private circles. That betrayal was how her parents died. Not because of a business deal gone sideways, but because someone close to them, a friend, a fucking traitor, sold them out, and now my father was still pulling strings, still manipulating everyone like the greedy bastard he was.

  For Donovan Corvo, it was never enough. No one knew the impossible expectations of him better than his sons.

  I didn’t want to be concerned with Kaylor, but the fact that I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her drove me nuts. If the only way to make this insanity stop was to bring her back, then the choice seemed obvious.

  Someone in her crew had blood on their hands. Her blood. If she got too close, if she trusted the wrong person again…

  I pumped my fist into the bag over and over, my already raw knuckles protesting at the repeated pain.

  I shouldn’t care.

  I shouldn’t be concerned with what happened to her.

  I was raised not to give a damn about anyone outside the family and the crew. Taught to shut down emotions, ignore feelings, focus on loyalty, strength, and power, but somewhere along the way, she cracked my shield.

 

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