Page 1 of Dark Things
1
Rebelle
Freedom.
Most people piss it away like it’s nothing. I was one of the stupid ones—until I wasn’t. No matter how gilded the cage, it’s still a fucking prison. And no amount of polish will make servitude taste sweet.
This is the first thing that claws through my mind as I cross the courtyard on day one at Skyton College.
Five years. Five years trapped inside cages they’ll never see.
And now—here—they swarm around me, a sea of free, breathing idiots. Laughing. Smiling. Blissfully blind to the shadows where deals cut like knives and lives get torn apart without a second thought.
They don’t know what waits in the dark. But I do.
“Did my dad talk to you about the race next week?” Haunt asks, looking down at me from his six-foot-threeheight. His ebony hair is longer now than the first time I met him, but those baby blues and the dimple in his chin are still the same. The tug in my chest flutters exactly the way it always has, even three years later.
“Yeah, he texted me this morning. Just a date and time, nothing else. You hear anything?” I reply. I know my face is blank. Haunt can read me like a book, always has been able to, but I still maintain an air of stoicism when we’re in public.
I may love him, but our keeper is always watching.
He scans my face, trying to find the crack in my armor, but I hold all the emotions back. That’s the first thing two years in juvenile detention taught me—showing emotion will break you.
“You’ll be racing Black Caviar. He brought him up from Kentucky,” he replies, rubbing his forehead.
This time my mask slips just a little. Black Caviar is Stan’s pride and joy. An ace in the hole and a horse I’ve never rode. A dangerous animal with a frothing bit and a drive to win. He scares the shit out of me.
“That’s…that’s good. At least we won’t have to use Stormbreaker Fury.” Storm was my old racehorse. A horse that could have done amazing things if his owner wasn’t a fucking dick. Stan destroyed every chance at greatness when he pulled him from racing for his own selfish needs, and it cost Storm and me our record.
Haunt’s face is impassive, but he knows what I went through with Storm. He knows how much he meant tome. For so long I didn’t allow myself dreams, but riding Storm was the closest thing to hope I’ve ever had.
We’re at Skyton because of Haunt’s father, Stan Graves, and his need for power and control over New York City. Stan’s been in hiding for five years, always keeping one step ahead of his rival Mario Russo, head of one of New York’s mafia families. And he uses us anyway he sees fit to accomplish his goal, taking back what he deems is his, regardless of who suffers.
When my gaze travels to the fountain in the center of the courtyard, the rest of what Haunt says doesn’t register. I’m frozen, breath coming in short pants. Heat rises through my neck, blurring my vision. The red haze of rage floats through me, and my world tips until all I see is the man in front of me.
Colter Shultz.
He’s here at Skyton College. Happy, laughing. Surrounded by people. Always the center of attention, the golden boy who was quick to make friends and charm anyone.
One of the men who put me in my first cage when I was sixteen. One of my former best friends and first loves. One of the guys I thought I was going to marry and have children with. One of the few people I trusted with my whole heart.
Betrayer.
And if he’s here, so are the others. They were never far apart, and I know for certain they’ll be somewhereon campus. It’s something we always dreamed of, starting a life with one another.
“We’ll be all together. It doesn't matter where we go as long as we stay with each other. I love you, Belle, and nothing is going to keep us apart.” Colter pulls me in for a hug, running his hands through my hair as he does.
“Promise? Promise me we’ll get away from them and live happily ever after,” I lift my head up and press my lips to his.
“I promise. Always.”
“Reb!” I feel the shake of my upper arms. It’s the contact that makes me snap back into the present. Haunt blocks out my view, but we’re far enough away that we’re not causing a scene. “What the fuck is wrong?”
“Nothing, sorry. I just zoned out. I’m kinda freaking out about having to ride Black Caviar.” I pull myself out of his arms and take off for the building of my first class. Haunt’s steps pound behind me as we near the edge of the courtyard. I need to get to class before he starts asking more questions.
I have plans for those boys, but I didn’t think I’d get the opportunity so soon. I wanted to wait until we were free from Stan, had my brother back, and could live in a world where murder and suffering weren’t an everyday occurrence. Then I’d get my revenge, make them see all the pain that I was put in because of them. Now my timeline has been moved up, because as muchas I don’t have time for this, I will make the time. There’s no way I can walk away.
“Reb, wait up. Don’t make me tackle you on the grass. You know I’ll do it.”
