Page 52 of Rayne

"Seriously?" I gasp, scrambling onto the backseat. "Why can't I drive myself home?"

The seat clicks back into place as Jett climbs in front of me, looking over his shoulder. "Too wet to drive home," he answers. "Put your seatbelt on. Hawk likes to drive fast."

Hawk doesn't respond to the comment as he sits down in the driver's seat, but realizing I'm not going to win this argument, I speedily reach for my belt and put it on.

The engine revs loudly, tires squealing as Hawk rips out of the parking spot, taking the tight corners too fast for my liking. My hands fumble, grabbing onto anything I can to hold on for support.

When we reach the exit of the underground parking lot, the rain immediately crashes down onto the car, drowning out any sounds or opportunities to speak. Hawk makes a right instead of my normal left, and my heart drops.

I lean forward, raising my voice to speak over the loud rain. "You're going the wrong way. My home is in the other direction."

"We're not going to your apartment," Hawk replies simply.

"What do you mean?" I ask in a panic. "Where are we going?"

I squint through the windows, noticing that we're not going in the direction of our parents' house either. Neither of them answer me, despite my repeated requests.

Resigning myself to the fact they aren't going to talk to me, I slump back in my seat, knuckles deadly white as the car weaves in and out of traffic.

At least I'll die in a nice car…

We travel for about twenty minutes in traffic until finally we reach the outskirts. The rain eases up slightly, giving me the chance to view my surroundings. We're in the more expensive part of Phoenix—Paradise Valley, if I'm correct.

Large, luxurious houses—no, mansions—fill the streets, lights appearing as people get home from work.

Finally, we pull into the long driveway of a huge gray modern house. In the distance, there's astonishing views of Camelback Mountain. The garage door opens with a click of a button and we pull inside, the sound of rain fading away.

The car turns off and I wait for them to speak. Hawk gets out of the car, ignoring us, as he heads to an internal door. Alone with Jett, I stare at him curiously.

"Do you live here?" I ask, taken aback.

"Yep," he answers, flinging the door open and pulling the seat forward. He holds out his hand for me, which I automatically grab without thinking. Clutching my hand firmly, he gets a steady grip on me as I climb out of the Porsche.

I hover next to the car, eyes glancing over at the open door leading to the inside of the house. "What am I doing here, Jett?"

Jett closes the car door, stepping closer to me. "Come on. I'll give you a tour of the house."

He turns, leaving me standing there as he heads to the door. It leaves me no choice but to follow, a decision I'm sure to regret later.

As I step out of the garage, we head down a corridor which leads to an open space living area. Large windows cover the adjacent wall from top to bottom, looking out over the mountains. Everything is white or some variation of it, the tiles absolutely spotless as our footsteps echo.

Jett stops, watching me as I walk over to the window, gazing out with astonishment. "Do you like it?" he asks, a hint of excitement in his voice.

"It's gorgeous," I tell him, giving him a confused look. "Is this really your house?"

He looks surprised. "Why wouldn't it be?"

My eyes scan the room—the light colors, the neat presentation, the simplistic furniture—it just doesn't exactly scream psychopaths.

"Just not how I pictured it."

"So, you've pictured it?" he asks with a laugh.

My head snaps back toward him. "That's not what I meant. I'm just surprised, that's all."

"We designed and built it," he says proudly. "Only finished a month ago."

I stare at him, stunned. "You designed this?"

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