Page 17 of Crooked Crows (Boys of Briar Hall 1)

I snapped my mouth shut.

“You coming with?” Rook asked him, the moment erased as though it never happened.

“No,” Corvus said in a shaky breath. “I’m heading to the gym.”

“Man,” I started, but stopped myself when I saw the look he gave me.

Corvus barely slept, that was normal. He woke at the smallest sounds around the house and refused to wear earplugs or move out to the loft where it’d be quieter. But lately, it’d been worse. Like he wasn’t bothering to try to sleep at all anymore.

For a guy who didn’t let us have any secrets, he sure kept a lot of his own. He knew everything about Rook and me. Our pasts. The things we’d done, both before we wound up at Barrett’s Home for Boys and during. I shuddered out of the memories trying to pull me under.

He never talked about his own past though. Not ever. I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t wonder what kept him up most nights—what led him to Diesel and the Saints years before we were in the picture.

“Check in when you get back to the Crow’s Nest,” Corvus added as he stalked out the open door and into the night, not bothering to look back as he picked up his pace, starting a slow jog back toward town.

“Should’ve brought his Ducati if he was going to ditch,” I mused aloud, my gut twisting as he vanished from view, swallowed up by the dark.

I shook my head. He’d be fine.

“I’d be shook, too,” Rook said, clearing his throat. “Shit’s on the radio now. There’s no taking it back.”

“Think Dies will recognize his voice?”

“Nah. I doubt it.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched before his gaze trailed away from the cool night and back toward the bar. “Let’s grab a drink and head out. I’m not in the mood for mourning.”

“I’ll let you have your fill first,” I joked. “Let me know if there’s any whiskey left when you’re done.”

He licked his lips and tossed me a wink before carving a path through the throng to the bar. I had to remind myself it wasn’t drugs, that at least we’d gotten him off his weeklong coke benders. Booze and cigarettes we could deal with. When he was on blow, he was a fucking hurricane, and neither of us could do a damn thing to stop him.

Watching the other members, most almost twice his age, part like the fucking Red Sea made me smirk. People outside of the Saints always assumed Corvus was the psycho, but he was just the most lethal of us. Rook was the one they needed to be wary of. Where Corvus would plot your murder, taking into consideration every risk and possible outcome over a course of weeks before acting, Rook was liable to just snap at any moment.

And that moment was coming.

I’d have to call Julia tomorrow. See if she had anything new for us from the helpline.

My pocket buzzed, and I dug it out in a rush, thinking it must be Corv. That the Ace who carved that shit into Randy’s chest was still around. But it was just Bri.Again.

Her message, the twentieth since lunchtime today, flashed over the screen.

Brianna: Meet you at your place around seven before school? I’ll let you make it up to me...

My brows pinched, and I looked down at my traitorous cock. The thing wasn’t even the least bit excited to get some action.

I readjusted myself.

Nothing.

Frowning, I thumbed out a quick reply. Annoyance washed through me, but I wasn’t sure if it was directed at myself or her.

Grey: Busy.

Her reply was immediate.

Brianna: Are you serious?

Was I? I’d never turned her down before. The annoyance I’d felt before magnified as the new girl’s face blew through my mind again. Bri didn’t have any sort of claim on me. It was time I stopped letting her act like she did.

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