Page 74 of Unmask
They were all here, sitting comfortably in my cousin’s kitchen, Brock and the Elite nowhere to be seen.
I froze in the doorway. “What the hell are you guys doing here?”
Mason smirked, flinging the card in my direction so it sailed perfectly through the air, only for Kreed to catch it before it could smack me on the forehead. “Heard you missed us. Couldn’t let that go unaddressed. Not in your time of need,” the younger twin said.
I choked on nothing. “Your delusions are getting scarier.”
Raine grinned as he pointed his peanut butter–covered spoon in Kreed’s direction. A glob of the sticky spread clung to the metal, threatening to drop onto the pristine countertop. “If you can forgive this asshole,” he said, nodding toward Kreed with theatrical emphasis, “surely you can find it in your heart to forgive us poor, misunderstood souls.”
“I haven’t forgiven anyone,” I muttered.
Maddox tilted his head. “So you’re not sleeping with Kreed?”
“Because I swear he was in your room last night,” Raine added innocently, licking peanut butter off the spoon.
Hovering in the doorway, I glared at the four Corvos who were the bane of my existence. “You guys show up just to annoy me into a mental breakdown?”
“Pretty much,” they chimed in unison, unbothered.
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “Where’s my cousin?”
“What, we’re not enough?” Maddox asked, taking another sip of his drink. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and when he lowered the mug, there was genuine hurt in his expression that I almost believed. “I thought we really bonded when you lived with us, shared trauma and all.”
“If Kreed can’t be reasonable,” I snapped, “maybe you three can. You want to help? Then tell him”—My eyes locked on Kreed’s—“that I should do the trade.” The words left my mouth before I’d fully decided to say them, but I didn’t take them back.
The air died.
Kreed turned so fast his spine should have cracked under the violent motion. “Do what?” he growled, absolutely furious.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry as desert sand, but I didn’t back down. Not when Kenny’s life hung in the balance. “They want me. That much is clear. We could use that. Set a trap. Trade me for Kenny?—”
“No.” The word exploded from his lips like a bullet, hitting me with the same devastating force. It ricocheted off the kitchen walls.
“Kreed—”
“Absolutely not,” he snapped. “Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. We talked about this.”
I met his glare head-on, fire meeting fire. “They have her. What if it were me? What if I were the one missing?”
“I think you know what I would do. Besides, we have no guarantee they will keep their word. We could agree to the trade, and then what? They take you both and disappear before we even blink?”
“You won’t let that happen.” The certainty in my voice surprised even me.
“Now you suddenly have unwavering faith in me,” he snorted, crossing the kitchen to Maddox and taking the bottle of rum, tipping it back.
Rum for breakfast. I couldn’t fault him because I was contemplating having some myself.
Frustrated, I blinked back the tears stinging my eyes. To think I thought I’d purged myself in the shower.
“The cold truth is,” Kreed continued, lowering the bottle and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “unlike Kenny, they won’t keep you around to dangle as bait. You’ll be sold immediately—probably within hours, and then my chances of finding you drop to practically zero.” His silver eyes burned with a fury that made the air shimmer. “Assuming they bother putting you up for auction instead of just disposing of you outright. Is that what you want? To be sold to some sick freak for his personal entertainment?”
My stomach churned at the images his brutal honesty conjured. “You don’t know what will happen. You can’t be sure they won’t let her go.”
“I do. Because I know how people like this operate. You think they want you so they can hand over Kenny with a thank-you note? You’d be walking into a life you don’t come back from.”
Tears stung my eyes, hot and unwelcome. “She’s my best friend.”
Kreed’s expression shifted in the hard mask. “I know what she is to you,” he bit out. Then he was moving, crossing the space between us in two quick strides, his calloused hands coming up to cup my face with devastating gentleness. “But you—” His thumb brushed away a tear, the touch so tender it made my chest ache. “You’re mine, little raven.”
