Page 131 of Crave
“Don’t bother calling back.” I muttered and turned around. “I’ve already handled it.”
Angelica stepped in front of me. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. The air in Theo's room was stale, thick with sweat and sex, the weight of something unspoken that clawed its way to the surface.
I tore my gaze from her.
I had to.
Because seeing her like this—branded by my brothers—made something inside me twist too tight.
I forced a breath through my teeth and dragged a hand down my face.
“Someone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?” Theo growled.
The slick sound of sheets shifted as he pulled himself upright.
“They hit the warehouse.” Jude answered. “Sloane’s…Sloane’s?—”
“Dead.” I answered for him, staring at our sister. “Sloane isdeadand our brother and Kieran were thenexton the list.”
“The goddamn cartel?” Theo stood, then stumbled forward.
Jude just stared at me. “That’s what Silas is saying. But that’s not all. There was a message…one left embedded in Sloane’s chest.”
“What fucking message?” Theo snarled.
Therehe was, the real brother. The one not buried under a mountain of cocaine and alcohol.
“Did you know?” The words slipped from my lips.
Her brow furrowed, confusion flared before panic set in.
I took a step closer, feeling the full weight of my brother’s stares. “Did you…know?”
“Know what?” She whispered.
“That they were coming for you.” I answered.
Silence.
A sharp, uneasy, deafening silence.
Angelica shook her head slowly. “No,” she whispered. But something about the way she said it—too soft, too uncertain—made my stomach clench.
Theo stepped closer, glancing from me to her. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
She shook her head, the confusion fading fast now, leaving only fear and terror behind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I didn’t believe her.
Neither did Theo.
Neither did Jude.
“Oh yeah?” Theo stepped closer, lashing out to grab the back of her neck and pulled her closer. “Maybe we don’t believe you, little liar. Maybe we don’t believe a goddamn word you say.”
The sound of tires screeching against the gravel cut through the silence. It was barely a second later that headlights slashed across Theo’s darkened window, white-hot and blinding, casting harsh, cutting shadows against the walls.
Silas.
