Page 46 of Deadly Little Games

My heart sinks, and everything around me fades away into the background. If Alec isn’t here, then I have no idea where he is. The last bit of hope I held of finding him shatters into a million little pieces.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lucas

After a long four-hour drive in silence with Freya lost in her head, we drop her off at home, and I don’t want her to go. The more time I spend with her, the more I’m falling. She’s everything I think about, everything revolves around her. I want to be near her every second of the day, and it’s making me crazy. Like a lovesick puppy. I’ve never been like this with anyone. Girls flock to me like bees to honey, and I used to love the attention, but now I don’t care for it. I want more—but only with her.

“I don’t think we’ll be finding Alec alive. Not now we know he isn’t in Bexley,” Gage says, pulling up to my place.

“Just don’t go opening your big mouth around Freya. She’s still holding out hope,” I say, shaking my head.

“One thing I don’t understand is why we haven’t gotten any information yet. We know everything going on here,” Hazen says from the backseat.

“We’ll keep looking, and one way or another, we will find him. Let’s hope for our sake, and hers, he’s still alive,” Gage mutters, then pulls out his phone and starts typing away.

“See you tomorrow for training,” I say, before slipping out the door.

I walk up the front steps. The door opens and my mother’s there, leaning against the frame, her silk nighty wrapped around her body. Fucking hell. I just want nothing more than to go to bed.

“Where have you been?” she asks, ushering me inside.

It’s sad that I’m twenty-three, still living at home, and getting grilled by my mother about where I’ve been. Fuck my life. Dominic may be a distant father, but it’s better than coming home to this and a father who’s practically dead.

“In Bexley with Freya, helping her look for her brother,” I say with a yawn. She crosses her arms over her chest.

“What have I told you? Keep away from that girl. She’s nothing but a distraction.” She sighs, walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got to keep focused on the endgame: ruling over The Brotherhood. Now that your father is on his deathbed, I’m counting on you. We need to keep up appearances, and all of this”—she gestures up and down her body, then around the house—“doesn’t pay for itself.”

“I know, Mom,” I say, biting back any smartass remark. It’s late and I can’t be bothered.

All she cares about is what effect my father’s dying will have on her lifestyle. My father’s been in and out of treatment for years and my mother never checks on him. She’s just waiting for the day he’s gone. Their marriage has just been for appearances. There’s no love there, never has been. It’s why I never believed in it either until Freya came back into my life. Her claws have tightened around my heart and there’s no releasing them. But I still love my mother, and as far as parents go, she’s got my back.

“I’ll try to stay away,” I reply because what harm will a little white lie do?

“Good boy,” she says before kissing me on the cheek, and part of me clings onto that approval from her. She might drive me insane, but I do love her and the way she protects me. It feels good to know someone cares enough about me.

I take the stairs two at a time, holding back the scream I want to release. I reach my door but stop. Faint music and light comes from across the hallway in my little sister’s room. Turning around, I knock on the door before slowly opening it. Her small body is engulfed in her king-size bed, and she’s got a book in her hands. She looks over the top of it and smiles.

“Lucas,” she says with a big smile, and all my anger from moments ago vanishes.

I move over to the other side of her bed and jump in. She cuddles up beside me, passing me her book.

“Hey, princess. Whatcha reading?”

“A fairytale about a long-lost princess who finds her prince charming. Are all boys like the princes in my fairytale books?” she asks.

I don’t want to break her eight-year-old heart, but I also don’t want her thinking about boys—not now, not ever. I’ll spend my whole life protecting her from them. My father signed a contract about marrying her off to another Brotherhood in another state. Over my dead body will that ever happen.

My family has only ever cared about what use we are to them and how we affect their reputations. My father raised me to be a ruthless member of The Brotherhood. He taught me to never let my emotions get the better of me, and to never let anyone close because they are just distractions.They take our attention off our duty of making everyone fall at our feet as the upcoming leaders of Daring. He always said love was for the weak. I used to believe it all, take everything in like a sponge, and I never liked disobeying him or my mother. I wanted their approval—I craved it. But since Freya’s been around, everything has changed.

My father was right about one thing: emotions are distractions. Because every thought I have is of her. Wanting to be around her and needing to gain her approval. But he was wrong about saying love is for the weak because the love I feel for my sister, Layla, isn’t weak. It keeps my heart beating on the bad days. Those days when everything is too much, when I remember every evil thing I’ve done to be part of—and eventually lead—The Brotherhood.

“Some are, Layla, but some are like those villains you read about. They aren’t good people,” I say, and she frowns, leaning further into my body and wrapping her arm over my chest. I don’t tell her I’m one of the bad guys, that I’m a villain, because she wouldn’t believe me. That’s the problem—villains aren’t easy to find, they hide in plain sight.

What if Freya is a villain and she’s been playing us this whole time? Maybe she’s the one who got rid of her brother? What if this has all been a ploy to get close to us? I shake my head. Fuck no, she’s been too distraught over her brother. The pain’s written all over her face; there’s no way she’s that good at acting. I know real pain when I see it.

“So, I just need to find the good ones?”

“Why don’t you leave that to me?”

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