 
# The Falling of Raven

## (The Falling Series, #1)

## Jessica Sorensen
The Falling of Raven

Jessica Sorensen

All rights reserved.

Copyright © 2019 by Jessica Sorensen

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

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For information: jessicasorensen.com

Cover Design by MaeIDesign

  Created with Vellum

# Contents

Prologue

1. Raven

2. Raven

3. Raven

4. Raven

5. Zay

6. Raven

7. Raven

8. Raven

9. Raven

10. Raven

11. Raven

12. Raven

13. Raven

14. Jax

15. Hunter

16. Zay

About the Author

Also by Jessica Sorensen

# Prologue

Raven

Six years earlier...

* * *

Padded walls surround me. I'm trapped. Not just in this room. I feel trapped in my own mind, stuck in a place splattered with blood, pain, and torment, all of which were put there by me. At least that's what the police are saying. The doctors here have been trying to figure that out.

"So you can't remember anything about that day?" the doctor asks me.

He's sitting in a chair in the doorway and is holding a handheld device, jotting down notes while he tries to pick apart my brain. He's under strict orders not to let me out of this room, which has been my home since the day I was hauled in here, covered in blood, completely numb inside.

Completely in shock about the blood staining my hands.

I shake my head, hugging my knees against my chest. "I can't remember anything other than when the police showed up."

He taps his stylus against the screen of the handheld device, studying me way too closely for my liking. But he does that a lot. It used to not bother me, but then the incident happened, and now I wish he'd stop looking at me at all.

"Why do you think that is?" he asks. "Or do you really remember and you're just too afraid to tell the truth? I know that's how it works sometimes. Fear is potent like that. It can make us do things we never imagined we'd do. Is that what happened that day, Ravenlee? Were you afraid?"

_Fear pulsates through me._

_Blood on my hands._

_Blood everywhere._

_But I feel nothing._

_See nothing._

_"You are nothing," he whispers in my ear. "Remember that if you ever think about this again."_

_"I'm not afraid of you," I say. I can't see his face, but I can smell him—smell the blood on him—_

I blink from the memories. "I'm not afraid."

The doctor studies me, and I can't tell if I've failed or passed this test.

_Am I ever getting out of here?_

Finally, he stands up. "Your aunt and uncle are going to be here to pick you up tomorrow."

"Wait... I'm getting out of here?" I ask, surprised.

From what I understood and what everyone kept telling me, I was going to be locked up for a very long time.

He nods, tucking the stylus into the front pocket of his shirt. "Some circumstances in the case have changed. The witness they thought they had is no longer a witness. And some of the evidence the police thought they had against you no longer exists."

Weird. But everything about the last handful of months has been weird.

Starting with...

_Blood on my hands._

I yank myself from the memory, refusing to think about that day. "You said my aunt and uncle were coming to get me?"

He nods, stepping into the room. "From what I understand, you're going to go live with them. I think they're your only living relatives. Am I right?"

Frowning, I nod. I barely know my dad's brother and wife. Have only met them a couple of times, and from what I could tell, my dad and him didn't get along very well. My mom wasn't a fan of them either.

My frown deepens.

_Everything is in the past tense._

_Stop thinking about it._

"Well, I hope you'll continue your therapy wherever you end up." He stays inside my room as he shuts the door.

My guard instantly goes up.

The last time he shut the door...

He smiles at me. "Now, little bird, how about a proper goodbye."

I shut my eyes as he reaches me. I shut down.

Just like the day my parents died, my mind shuts off.

Blanks out.

And in the end, I remember hardly anything.

But maybe that's for the better.
1

# Raven

A lot of people say my name has a magical sound to it. I guess it does.

I used to love my name. Ravenlee Wilowwynter, Raven for short. It's different. Unique. Pretty even. But it also has a deeper meaning. Or, well, an actual raven does.

Bad luck.

That's what those birds represent. And right after I turned twelve, I realized this. Like those dark-feathered birds, I became bad luck. Cursed even. Because I'm the reason my parents died. I'm the reason they're buried beneath the ground. I'm the reason they aren't here anymore.

These guilty thoughts creep through my mind as I stand in front of the mirror, examining my long, dark hair that looks similar to the dark shade of a raven's feather—midnight black, with hints of violet and blue when it catches the light. I can't help questioning if I used to be a raven in another life. Perhaps that's why I bring bad luck wherever I go.

"Ravenlee Wilowwynter! Get your butt down here," my aunt Beth shouts from downstairs. "You don't need to make everyone else late to your first day of school because you can't get your lazy butt moving."

My initial instinct is to throw back a snarky retort, but I know better than to do that while my uncle's home. So, I take a deep breath before calling out, "I'm just about ready."

She doesn't say anything to me directly, but I hear her tell my uncle, "That damn girl is really getting on my nerves. She's always late. And don't even get me started on how much trouble she gets into. And the mouth on her... I don't understand why we can't kick her butt out when she turns eighteen. I don't think I can put up with her crap until graduation."

"I made an agreement when I took her in, Beth. She's going to live with us until she graduates high school, and that's final," my uncle Don replies in a cold tone.

He's my dad's brother but, where my dad was a nice, caring man, my uncle is frigid and angry all the time, especially with me. Although, there are occasions when he seems almost thrilled to be around me, but that's never a good thing.

"Now, go make me my breakfast. It's my first day, and I'm not going to be late."

I roll my eyes as my aunt says, "Of course, dear."

My aunt usually does what she's told, at least when it comes to my uncle. She stays home, where she cooks, cleans, and has dinner on the table every night when he gets home from work. I swear it's like they still think it's the 1950s or something. If I didn't despise my aunt so much, I might try to encourage her not to be such a doormat. But if I tried to tell her that, not only would my aunt ground my ass, my uncle would smack me a good one.

He's been doing that kind of shit since I moved in with them and their daughter right after my parents died. At first, I put up a fight, trying to battle back. But a shit-ton of good that did. I quickly learned that fighting back meant more hits. So, I learned to swallow my pride and keep my mouth shut when I'm around my uncle. All bets are off, though, with everyone else.

I wish I had another choice. Wish I could turn him in. I thought about doing so when he first started smacking me around. The problem is, he's a cop. And I'm the rebel piece of shit niece they so kindly took in after she did horrible things. At least, that's how everyone sees it.

And I have a feeling things with my uncle are about to get even worse now that he's officially the sheriff on Honeyton, a small town that we moved to just a handful of days ago, today.

The place is out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by hills that give a sense of seclusion and friendliness. Well, that's the bullshit my uncle told us when he announced we were moving here. Personally, I'm not buying it. I took a walk around town yesterday, and the looks I got from the townspeople were less than friendly. I could practically smell the judgment and snobbery lacing the crisp fall air and feel my impending outcast title waiting for me today when I enter the hallways of my new school. I do look kind of intimidating, though.

But it's cool. I can handle it. I can and have dealt with a lot worst. In fact, I'm used to being the outcast. I've been one since I moved in with my uncle, aunt, and their daughter, Dixie May.

Dixie fucking May. Though she's my cousin and is the same age as me, we have no other similarities. If I'm a reincarnated raven, then Dixie May is probably a hawk, which I once read are supposed to be predators to ravens and can represent danger. Honestly, from what I've read, ravens can usually only fend off a hawk if there's a group of them, also known as a conspiracy. I like the name conspiracy better, probably because I mentally conspire all the time to take Dixie May down. But I've never had any real friends, at least long-lasting ones, so, more than likely, that's not going to happen. Not that I just let her walk all over me. I don't at all. But Dixie May is the most manipulative, fake, and devious person I've crossed paths with. She's also very pretty and charming when she needs to be, except at home where she acts like a spoiled brat. She also has ammunition against me—knows the reason I came to live with her and her family all those years ago. And when she told everyone at our old school about it, I instantly became labeled the freak that people not only despised but feared.

"Oh my God, I'm so sick of these damn boxes," Dixie May complains from her bedroom across the hall from mine. "I can't find anything at all. And my favorite pair of shoes are missing. I bet the movers stole them."

I roll my eyes. The movers were two big dudes who seemed nice enough, and in no way, shape, or form seemed like the kind of people who'd steal designer shoes. Not to mention, one single pair of shoes.

"I'll call and make a complaint," my aunt calls out to her.

"What's a freakin' complaint going to do?" Dixie May whines. "It won't get me my shoes back. And they were my favorite pair."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," my aunt tells her. "If you want, we can drive over to the city this weekend and go shopping."

"Fine. But you better buy me a couple of extra pairs in case this happens again," Dixie May warns.

"Of course," my aunt says. "I'll even buy you a few new outfits if you want."

I'd roll my eyes again, but at this point, I'm starting to worry that they'll get stuck in my head. For reals, though. Dixie May has so many clothes that my aunt and uncle had to add an extra closet to her room before we could move into this house.

Then there's me. My entire wardrobe fits into a bag and mostly consists of secondhand items that I purchased with money I saved up from jobs I worked here and there. But I like my clothes. They fit my personality, and when I wear them, I like to imagine who they used to belong to and what kind of life they had while they wore them.

Right now, I'm rocking a Nirvana shirt that I'm convinced someone wore to one of the band's concerts decades ago. I also have on a pair of cut-off shorts, knee-high tights, and clunky, scuffed boots that lace up all the way over my knees. I topped off the look with a plaid overshirt and a leather jacket that used to belong to my mother. It's one of the few items I have left of hers. I like to occasionally breathe in the scent, pretending I can still smell her perfume.

_I miss her so, so much._

As tears begin to well in my eyes, I suck them back and focus on finishing getting ready, putting on a velvet choker then adding leather bands to my wrists. I always wear them to cover up the scars marking my flesh.

Like always, my dark hair is swept to the side in a wild mess of waves, and I kept my makeup minimal, consisting of kohl eyeliner and some lip gloss—I'm not really a makeup sort of girl.

"Raven! You have one more minute to get your butt down here, and then we're leaving you!" Aunt Beth shouts, a warning ringing in her tone. "It's not like it's going to matter anyway. I'm sure I'll probably get a call from the school halfway through the day, informing me that, once again, you got yourself suspended."

She might be right. I do have a reputation for getting suspended. Most of the time, it's because I get into a fight, either one that someone else started it or I took the first swing after someone repeatedly called me names. I've had to go to anger management classes a couple times that, honestly, I'm not sure helped.

It's not like I'm angry all the time. Most of the time, I can pull off indifference pretty damn well. But there's a particular name that really gets under my skin and, annoyingly, it's one of the words scarring my flesh beneath my clothes.

As my chest pressurizes at the memories of how the scars got there, I tear my gaze off the mirror, collect my bag, and then stick my hand underneath the mattress to grab a joint from my stash.

I have quite the collection under there. Most of it comes from my uncle, who sometimes brings drugs home after he's done a bust. He's been doing it for years, stealing a bit here and there then reporting that a less amount was found during a raid. How do I know this? Because I overheard a phone conversation once between him and one of his buddies. He didn't know I was home—I wasn't supposed to be—but I'd decided to ditch after a group of guys and girls jumped me and kicked my ass. I fought back, of course—my dad taught me how to protect myself at a young age—and I even got in a few good swings. But I was completely outnumbered. In the end, I gave someone a black eye and someone else a fat lip, while my face looked like a freakin' lumpy blueberry.

But anyway, I left school, went home, and hid up in my bedroom. My uncle had come home for lunch and, as I was sneaking around, trying to stay hidden, I noticed him empty some bags out of his pockets, stuffing them into the attic crawlspace. Then he called someone and informed them of what he had managed to bring home that day.

"I got a lot today," he said then paused. "Yeah, I know. I want you to push it as fast as you can."

Before my parents died, I'd been raised in a questionable neighborhood and knew enough about the drug world to understand what that meant.

When he left, I snuck up to the crawlspace and _jackpot_. I didn't take it all, just enough that he wouldn't notice. After that, it became a routine. Usually, I'd find only weed in there, but on a couple of occasions, I found some ecstasy and coke.

I'm a little worried about how things are going to work now that we've moved and he has a new job. I guess I'll find out. It's going to suck if he stops stealing drugs and stashing them in the house. Not that I'm addicted, but getting high often calms me, and I need help with that whenever I can.

"Raven! For the love of God, get down here!" Aunt Beth shouts furiously.

Sighing, I put the joint in my bag then head down the stairs to start what I'm sure is going to be a hellish first day of school.
2

# Raven

I end up crossing paths with my uncle on my way out. He's in the kitchen, sitting at the table, eating breakfast, and reading a newspaper. He doesn't look a lot like my dad—shorter and stockier with a bald spot on his head—which I'm grateful for. He's also dressed in his uniform.

I try to pass by the kitchen without being noticed and hurry toward the front door, but he glances up before I can make a quick exit.

His gaze sweeps across me then he frowns. "You're really going to go to school dressed like that?"

I bite back a rude remark and shrug. "Yep."

He eyes me over again, making my skin crawl. "You look like a slut."

M anger ticks, and I want nothing more than to walk up and clock him in the face. But I fight the urge and turn for the door, preparing to walk out.

"You better not get into trouble today," he calls out after me. "If you do, you'll be punished. I mean it, Ravenlee. You'll learn to obey, even if I have to—"

I rush out the front door and close it behind me, cutting off whatever threat he was about to throw my way.

I might pay for the move later, but right now, all I want to worry about is getting through school, so I keep my head low and climb into the backseat of my aunt's car.

"God, it took you long enough. You can move so slow sometimes, Ravenlee," my aunt gripes as she drives down the driveway, heading for the main road.

I shrug and stare out the window, too tired to get into it with her right now.

_I really need some coffee. And breakfast. Why did my uncle have to be in the kitchen this morning?_

I zone out for most of the ride to school while Dixie May babbles about some reality TV show she's been watching. Aunt Beth occasionally joins in on the conversation, but Dixie May is usually the one to fill up the silence. The girl could probably break the world record for her ability to talk and talk and talk, especially about reality TV.

As soon as my aunt pulls up to the school, Dixie May's focus switches.

"This is seriously the school we have to go to?" She crinkles her nose at the brick building. "It's so small. And where the hell is student parking?"

"I'm sure it's around here somewhere," Aunt Beth tells her as she stops in the student drop-off area at the front. "Maybe at the back of the school."

Dixie May glares at her mother. "Well, they better have it, because there's no way in hell I'm parking Cutie in this tiny parking lot when it arrives."

Cutie is Dixie May's BMW that she got for her sixteenth birthday. Her parents didn't want her racking up miles on it when we moved, so they had it shipped over. It hasn't arrived yet, something Dixie complains about every day.

Me? I'm kind of grateful it hasn't arrived because, when it does, I have to go back to riding to school with her. And she usually ends up leaving me stranded after school, so I either have to walk home or catch the city bus. I don't think Honeyton has a city bus, which means I'll end up having to walk the five miles home. I'd be okay with, except Honeyton's winters are supposed to be intense.

"I'll look into it," Aunt Beth assures her.

"You better." Dixie May frowns at the school. "Great. I bet there's not even any FHs here."

I roll my eyes. FHs stand for _fuckable hotties_ in Dixie May language.

"Oh, I'm sure there are." My aunt smiles as she points at a muscular guy walking past our car. "Look at him. He's cute."

"Ew, Mom, you're so disgusting. Seriously, are you having a mid-life crisis or something?" Dixie May says with her nose crinkled. Then she sticks out one hand in her mom's direction while pulling the visor down. "Give me some lunch money, so I get out of here and away from your gross comments."

"Oh, okay." My aunt starts rummaging through her purse.

While Dixie May waits for her mom to dig out some money, she does a quick check of her hair and makeup. She fixes a couple of her blonde curls, twisting them before flipping up the visor. Then she glances down at the pink top and white skirt she's wearing, smoothing out a few invisible wrinkles. By the time she's finished, Aunt Beth has put a twenty-dollar bill into her palm.

Dixie May stuffs it into her bag then shoves the door open and moves to get out, but then she pauses, glancing over her shoulder at me. "Don't even think about talking to me today. You know what will happen if you do."

"You'll have to pull out a dictionary to look up all the above four-letter words I'll use?" I question.

"Ravenlee," my aunt snaps. "Don't be a brat."

"Yeah, Ravenlee, don't be a brat, or else everyone here is going to find out who you really are," Dixie May sneers with a smirk.

The muscles in my jaw tick, and I curl my fingers inward, stabbing my fingernails into my flesh, wrestling back the urge to punch that smirk off her face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Dixie May smirks at me one more time before climbing out of the car.

"Have a nice day," my aunt says to Dixie May, who shoves the door closed without even replying.

My aunt lets out a quiet sigh as Dixie May walks away, heading for the entrance doors. Once she's inside, Aunt Beth looks away, frowning at the passenger seat. "Crap, she forgot her makeup case." She reaches over, picks up a sparkly case, and hands it to me. "Find Dixie May and give this to her. And don't even think about stealing it. I'm going to text her to let her know you have it."

"She doesn't want me to talk to her, remember?" Not that I'm actually going to obey Dixie May. I really just don't want to talk to her or carry around her stupid sparkly case.

"I'm sure it'll be fine if you're giving her the case," she insists. When I make no effort to take it, she gives me a dirty look. "She needs her makeup, and you're going to take it to her because, unlike you, my daughter cares about her appearance."

"So what if I don't care?" I stuff the case into my bag. "Looking pretty isn't the most important thing in the world."

She arches a brow. "Have you looked in the mirror lately? You look like a homeless person."

Sometimes, I think she treats me so shitty because of how her husband and daughter treat her, like she's deflecting all her bottled-up aggravation on me. It used to hurt. Now, it just pisses me off and makes me want to annoy her.

"Yeah, well, it's better than looking like a skank," I tell her.

Her eyes widen in horror. "My daughter does not look like a skank. How dare you say so?"

I raise a brow at her. "Who said I was talking about your daughter?"

She shakes her head furiously. "You know what? It's time for you to get out of this car. I'm sick of looking at you."

I'm more than ready to get out, but as I peer outside at the school, a drop of anxiety rises inside me.

Dixie May was right. It's a really small school. Way smaller than the one we used to go to. I don't know whether to be nervous about that or not. On the one hand, it means fewer people will mock me. But it also means people will be nosier.

"Get out!" Aunt Beth snaps. "And I'm not giving you any lunch money. You'll have to use your own."

"I'm not stupid enough to believe otherwise." I reach for the door handle.

Her lips curl into a sneer. "That's very debatable."

I push open the door. "So is Dixie May's IQ."

"Dixie May isn't stupid." She rotates around in the seat to glare at me. "She just prefers fashion and guys over schoolwork. That's not that uncommon for a teenage girl. You're the anomaly, Raven."

I give a shrug. "I wasn't trying to argue that I wasn't an anomaly. I was merely pointing out that, if you think I'm unintelligent, then you must think your daughter is an idiot."

"Dixie May isn't an idiot," she scoffs. "She just gets distracted because she has a life." She flashes me a smirk. "Unlike you."

"I may be a social outcast, but at least I'm not an idiot. And when this last year of hell is all over and I graduate, I'm going to take my good grades, go off to college, and make something of myself, while Dixie May probably ends up having a shotgun wedding because she can't keep her legs closed."

Her nostrils flare. "You little shit—"

I hop out of the car and slam the door shut.

She starts to roll the window down as I hurry toward the sidewalk that leads to the front doors, knowing she won't make a scene. It's not her style. No, her style is to tell my uncle, who's going to either be annoyed with her that she's being a tattletale or pissed off at me, depending on his mood. Either way, there's going to be shouting in the house when my uncle Don gets home tonight.

"You can get your own ass home, Ravenlee Wilowwynter!" she shouts from the car. "I won't be picking you up!"

I cringe as the handful of students walking around glance in my direction.

Awesome. What a great way to start my first day at a new school. Then again, if Dixie May has her way, it'll be a shitty day for me anyway. And now I have the walk home to look forward to. It's my own damn fault for riling my aunt up. I just get so sick of her shit sometimes.

Letting out a slow exhale, I continue toward the school with people eyeballing me, eyeballing my outfit, eyeballing my crazy hair. Then the whispering begins. Finally, I can't take it anymore, so I stick my hand into my pocket and dig out my phone. Then I grab my earbuds, pop them in, and crank up some classic rock, the same music my dad used to listen to.

I've been entering school this way for as long as I can remember. Music helps block out everything, including my own annoying thoughts. Though I made a promise to myself not to do that today, to try a fresh start, I guess old habits die hard.

I don't want to listen to the whispering. Don't want to listen to the name calling. Don't want to listen to everyone talk about all the made-up stories Dixie May has spread about me.

_"She's a slut."_

_"She's a satanic freak."_

_"I once saw her kill a puppy just for fun."_

_"She slept with a teacher."_

_"Slut."_

_"Freak."_

_"Murderer."_

I yank myself away from the memories, telling myself that I don't need to rehash the lies she told about me.

Well, almost all of them were lies.

One carries some truth to it.

_Murderer._
3

# Raven

I decide to take a little detour before I enter the school and sneak out by the dumpsters to take a few hits. It's a risky move, for sure, since I'm not familiar with how this school works, but I need my _calm_.

I smoke until my mind is hazy. I smoke until I can't feel anything but sedation—numbness. I smoke until I can't think about much of anything.

_Emptiness. Just how I like it._

Once I'm good and blazed, I spray some perfume on, put some eye drops in, and then head inside the school.

Last night, my aunt told me that I'm supposed to stop by the office this morning to pick up my schedule. I expect to see Dixie May in there and plan on giving her the stupid sparkly case then, but by the time I enter the office, she's either already picked up her schedule or she decided to spend the morning trying to find a clique she can dictate.

The secretary sitting behind the front desk looks up at me as I wander in, eyeing my outfit over. After seeing how most of the people in the hallway are dressed, I kind of expected that.

Preppy is the word that came to mind when I noted the outfits almost everyone is sporting. Not that I believe everyone is preppy here, but there are an awful lot of polo shirts and khaki pants.

Once the secretary is done scrutinizing me, her lips move, but I can't hear what she's saying.

Shit. I forgot I had my earbuds in.

I tug one out. "Sorry, I didn't hear you. Can you repeat that?"

She gives me a wary look and I wonder if she suspects I'm high as a mother effer.

"I said, can I help you with something?" she asks with mild tolerance.

I do my best to focus on her and rest my arms on the counter. "Yeah, I'm new here and need to get my schedule."

She turns toward the computer. "What's the name?"

"Ravenlee Wilowwynter."

She starts typing then pauses. "How do you spell the last name?"

I spell it for her, and she types it in, briefly smiling. "That's a beautiful name. Does it mean anything?"

I could tell her the reason my parents named me after the cursed bird, tell her the prettier part of the name. But nothing about me or my life is pretty anymore, so I answer her with honesty instead.

"Yeah, bad luck. Or well, Raven does, which is what I go, by so..."

She glances up at me with her brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Raven, the bird, represents bad luck," I say with a shrug. "Which is what people call me."

She blinks. "Oh." Then she starts to look back at her computer.

_Awesome, Raven. She definitely probably thinks you're on something._

I'd probably would be more worried, but that numbness I love so much settles me.

_Calms me._

_Calm._

"They also symbolize wisdom, knowledge, creativity, mysteriousness, and unpredictability," a guy who looks to be around my age says as he steps up beside me.

I start to turn my head, wondering how the hell this guy knows what ravens symbolize. Then I blink, sure I'm seeing things.

He seriously might be the prettiest guy I've ever seen, with chin-length blond hair, long eyelashes, and bright blue eyes. And just by looking at his pretty face, I expect him to be dressed in an outfit that goes with the preppy theme around here. So, I'm surprised he's wearing a black shirt, matching jeans, and boots. He also has a chain dangling from his belt loop and leather bands covering his wrists.

The strangest part about him is the way he's smiling at me. I can't even remember the last time someone smiled at me, let alone some pretty guy with eyelashes so long I swear he could be wearing mascara.

"Are you real?" I ask, blinking again.

His forehead creases, the corners of his lips quirking. "Yeah, are you?"

I nod, pulling my head out of my ass.

_Did I just ask this guy if he's real?_

_Dude, I smoked way too much this morning._

"Good morning, Mr. Hathingford," the secretary greets him with what can only be described as a somewhat tolerant, somewhat amused look. Still, the look lets me know this pretty guy is totally real. "And to what do I owe the pleasure of your presence today?"

He rests his arms on the counter and gives her the same charming smile he tried to dazzle me with. "Now, what'd be the fun in just telling you? Let's make a game out of it. I'll give you three tries to guess, and if you guess wrong, I get to walk out of here, free and clear."

I glance at the secretary, expecting her to get annoyed. Instead, she shakes her head and cracks a small smile. "I'm not going to guess, because I already know. And I'll give you the pass for today. This is the last time, though. I swear, the next time you come and ask me for one, I'm going to give you a detention slip instead." Then she pushes back from the desk, stands up, and walks off toward the back of the room.

Grinning, the guy leans over the counter, steals a sucker out of a bin on her desk, and then pops it into his mouth.

_Okay, I guess it's going to take a while to get my schedule._

I start to lift my earbud toward my ear, preparing to go back to my Zen state, when the guy smiles at me.

"So, girl who's most definitely real, are you new here?" he asks, rolling the sucker in his mouth. "I haven't seen you around."

I could just answer him. It'd be the polite thing to do. I could try to be nice and see if I can make a friend, but that'd be pretty naïve of me. And while I may be a lot of things, I'm not polite or naïve.

I let out a quiet sigh and lower my earbud. "Do I really need to answer that?"

Amusement sparkles in his eyes as he angles his head to the side in confusion. "Yeah... Why wouldn't you? And, I mean, I did answer you when you asked me if I was real."

_True, but still..._

I cross my arms on top of the counter. "Yeah, but this school has a total of what? Like two hundred people? So I'm pretty confident you know you've never seen me around before and already know I'm new."

His confusion fades, amusement taking over and he pulls the sucker out of his mouth. "That's an excellent point." He gives a glance around before leaning toward me. "Want to know a little secret? I really did know you are new. I was just trying to find an opening to start a conversation with you."

I struggle not to smile. "As flattered as I am, I can totally assure you that, come lunchtime, you're going to pretend like I'm invisible."

His amused smile remains, but his brows pull together. "And why's that?"

"Because you're an FH," I reply with a half-shrug.

His amusement doubles. "Do I want to know what that stands for?"

I shrug. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."

His grin widens. "Maybe you should just tell me now and spare me the headache I always get when I think too much. And while we're at it, why don't you tell me something about you? Like, what grade you're in. Where you moved from. If you have a boyfriend."

Wait... Is he flirting with me?

It's not like I've never had a guy flirt with me before. I have a couple of times, but it usually happened at school, and Dixie May always found a way to ruin whatever allure I had toward the few guys who gave me more than a second glance. And while I'm totally flattered that the prettiest guy that I've ever seen is semi-flirting with me, I know that, when Dixie May spots him, he won't ever smile at me again. Because she _will_ spot him. The guy is way too pretty for her not to notice. And while style-wise, the two of them don't look similar, their pretty faces will go well together on those shotgun wedding invitations.

"Nah, I'd rather not," I tell him, figuring he'll back off. But he only grows more intrigued.

"Oh, come on. Just a little bit of information. That's all I'm asking for."

"Nah. I think I'm going to hold on to my mysteriousness for now. Make sure I'm representing the symbolism of my name to its truest form."

He chuckles softly. "Hate to break it to you, but you already messed up with that, because you just gave me a little bit of info about yourself."

"Um, no, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"How?"

He grins, pointing the sucker at me. "You let me know you're amusing."

"Oh, I'm not," I assure him. "I'm being totally serious."

"I have no doubt you are, but it's still amusing." He gives a short, considering pause. "And I also think you're a little bit stubborn."

I roll my eyes. "You can't determine that after talking to me for, like, thirty seconds."

He throws a dramatic glance at the clock. "Actually, it's been a little over a minute."

"That's still not enough time."

"Says who?"

"Says the person who determined the time length required to be able to give an accurate analysis of someone's character."

He cocks a brow. "And what's this person's name? Because, as far as I know, no one has ever come up with such a thing."

"His name is Jerry." I make up a name then decide to make up a story. "And he lives somewhere in Switzerland where there's no internet or cell service, so he hasn't been able to publish his findings yet. But I met him once while I was on vacation, and me and Jerry had a good, long chat about his theory on the time it takes to get to know a person. And he told me that you have to know someone a lot longer than a minute to determine what kind of person they are."

He stares at me confoundedly, and I wait for him to back off, to realize I'm a weirdo that he doesn't want to know. Instead, a grin takes over his face.

"You and I have to be friends," he insists.

I shake my head. "Sorry, but that can't happen."

"Why not?" He sulks, jutting out his lip, pouting. He looks adorable when he does it and seems like the kind of guy who knows it.

"Because it just won't work." Again, I struggle not to smile, but I'm totally gonna blame it on being buzzed.

He shakes his head then grins. "I think it totally will. In fact, I think we might be the perfect match."

"Trust me; I know it won't work." _Because Dixie May will make sure of it, even if she has to tell you about how I'm a murderer._

"There's no way you can possibly know that." He gives me a curious look. "Unless you're a psychic."

"As awesome as that would be, I'm just a normal girl," I assure him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

He stares at me in a way that makes me squirm. "I really doubt that. In fact, I think you might be one of the most interesting people I've met in a long time."

I tug at the sleeve of my jacket, a self-conscious move I always do to make sure my scars are hidden. "Do I really need to tell you again about Jerry and his theory?"

"Yes, _theory_ ," he stresses. "Not fact."

"Did I say theory?" I smack the heel of my hand to my forehead. "I meant fact. Stupid me, I always get the two mixed up."

His grin is as shiny as a goddamn black diamond ring and just as pretty. "Yeah, we're definitely going to be friends."

I'm racking my brain for a good protest when the secretary returns with a pink slip of paper in her hand. She smiles as she hands the paper to the guy. "This will get you out of last period, and last period only, which I noted multiple times on the slip. And in permanent marker," she warns. "Do not try to pull any of that funny business like you did the last time I gave you one of these, when you erased the date and gave it to all your teachers to get out of all your classes."

He presses his hand to his chest and dazzles her with a grin. "You have my word. No more funny business."

She sighs tiredly. "One of these days, I'm just going to tell you no."

"But today's not that day." He winks at her.

The bell rings then, announcing class is about to start and that I was right when I guessed I was going to be late.

"Just get to class," she tells him then sinks down onto her chair.

He salutes her then turns to me. "I'll see you around, mysterious Raven. And when I do, I expect some more details about you. You know, so we can start establishing our beautiful impending friendship." He winks at me then pops the sucker into his mouth and strolls out of the office.

"That one is a handful," the secretary remarks as she types a few things onto her computer.

I focus on her. "Yeah, I can tell."

She clicks the mouse. "He's a good kid, though, especially considering what he's been through. It's also probably why I have a hard time telling him no."

I want to ask her so many questions, like why she gave him a slip to get out of class. Or what he's been through. Or better yet, what his name is since all I ever heard her call him was Mr. Hathingford.

But doing so would mean I have an interest in him and would put me a little bit closer to knowing who he is. What would be the point in that? Like I said before, by the end of the day, he'll have no desire to be friends with me anymore.
4

# Raven

Like I guessed, I end up having to walk into first period late. Thankfully, the teacher lets me slide on in without too much of a fuss. And as a double bonus, Dixie May isn't in this class.

I keep waiting for something to happen. For the whispering to start. For the labels to begin being thrown at me. Strangely, though, the morning goes by pretty uneventfully. Well, until fourth period rolls around.

Like I did in every other one of my classes, I first go talk to the teacher when I walk in to tell him I'm new.

"Oh, yes, right." Mr. Mcnellton, a middle-aged guy with thinning hair, glances up from the stack of papers on his desk. "I think your sister was in my second period class."

"Cousin," I correct. "But, yeah, we live together."

"Oh, I see." He clearly doesn't, confusion flooding his eyes.

He wants to ask questions, but like most, he won't, over the fear that the answer might be uncomfortable to hear.

It is, too, for everyone who dares to ask.

_The girl who murdered her parents._

He clears his throat then adjusts his tie. "Well, you can sit anywhere you like. The seats aren't assigned. And I'm sure I'm going to enjoy having you in my class."

I want to tell him my story of Jerry and his theory that proves there's no way he can be sure of that, but I decide to attempt to keep on the teacher's good side for now.

I nod then wander toward a row of desks lining the middle of the classroom, choosing the far back one where I can keep my head low and hopefully not get called on.

Once I'm seated, I set my binder on the desk, pop my earbuds in, and then recline back in the seat. I have about four minutes until the bell rings, so I should be able to listen to one full song.

A minute later, I'm zoned out, tapping my fingers to the beat, when a guy approaches my desk. He has on a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head, and his eyes are as dark as storm clouds, although completely and utterly gorgeous—and intense. His jawline is covered with stubble, along with a scar, and his expression is intense. I'm not sure what he wants, but I don't really care too much, at least not enough to take my earbuds out. He makes no effort to move, though, continuing to stare at me.

_What the hell is this guy's deal?_

I tug one of my earbuds out. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you're in my seat," he grumbles.

I'm so confused. "Really? Because the teacher said they weren't assigned."

A beat of silence passes by as he stares at me intimidatingly.

"They're not officially assigned," he finally states with a hint of annoyance. "But anyone who has any self-perseveration knows not to sit in that seat." He nods at the desk on my right then my left. "Or in those."

I tap my finger against my lip. "Huh? I guess I must've left my self-preservation at home today."

The tiniest bit of surprise flickers in his eyes, but he swiftly extinguishes it. "Well, I suggest you go find it before you end up doing something stupid." He places his hands on my desk and leans in. "Now get out of my seat."

My heart thunders in my chest. How do I want to handle the situation? I mean, I want to keep going about my day unnoticed, and if I put up a fight with this guy, that'll draw attention. But his demanding attitude is annoying. It's like he just expects me to do what he says, like everyone in this world does.

He's like a male version of Dixie May, only more intense.

His irritation festers the longer I sit in the seat without moving. His jaw ticks, his eyes darken, and his muscles wind into tight knots.

"Trust me, new girl; you really don't want to play this game with me," he warns in a low tone.

"What game?" I carry his gaze. "I'm just sitting at a desk, trying to mind my own business."

"At _my_ desk," he stresses. "Now get up and go find a seat somewhere else before I make you."

My pulse spikes, but so does my stubbornness. When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that being stubborn would be a benefit and a curse. But she was wrong. It's only been a curse for me. I wish I could get rid of it, but sometimes it creeps up on me without warning. Like when brooding guys get up in my face and threaten me.

Lifting a brow, I recline in the seat.

Surprise blazes in his eyes. It's like no one has ever defied him before. It makes me feel both proud of myself and a bit nervous. But I conceal the latter. I'm good at that—concealing my emotions. At least I have been for the last almost six years.

His jaw ticks as he straightens. "Fine, you wanna play this way, then let's play."

I hold my breath, waiting for him to jerk me out of the seat or something. Instead, he turns around and drops into the seat in front of me.

"You just destroyed your chances of making it here, new girl," he warns, throwing me a dirty look from over his shoulder.

"Awesome. I didn't have a chance anyway." I move to put my earbud back in.

"Hey, Mr. M." The blond guy from the office this morning strolls into the classroom, smiling at the teacher.

The teacher glances up from the papers. "Hey, Hunter. That was a good game Friday. You played well."

So his name is Hunter, and I'm guessing he plays some sort of sport.

I crinkle my nose. Jocks are usually the worst. At least, they were at my old school. But Hunter doesn't look like the jocks at my last school.

_Maybe he plays chess or is in the math league._

A smile tugs at my lips at the amusing thought. At that exact moment, Hunter glances in my direction. I'm sure I look like a freak with a stupid grin on my face.

A smile appears on his lips. "Hey—"

I stuff my earbud into my ear.

Shaking his head and grinning, he starts down the aisle, his grin quickly dissipating as his gaze settles on the guy in front of me. His gaze dances from me to the guy, then his lips move.

I'm curious what they're talking about, but I refuse to let the curiosity win. But then the song ends, and it's the last song on my playlist, leaving the noise in the classroom to creep into my ears.

I move to turn on another song.

"So, she stole your seat?" Hunter says to the guy, his voice a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"For today. But she'll learn her place soon enough," the guy warns, fishing a pen out of his pocket.

I pause from selecting a song, deciding to eavesdrop.

Hunter casts a glance in my direction then looks back at the guy. "Did you at least tell her that she was sitting in your seat?"

"Yep." He restlessly taps the pen against the desk. "Apparently, the girl has no self-preservation."

"Aw, come on, Zay, give her a break. She's new." Hunter plops down in the desk across from the guy. "Remember how scary it was on your first day?"

The guy—Zay—lets out a hollow laugh. "I wasn't scared."

"Bullshit," Hunter teases. "You were six. All six-year-olds get scared about their first day of school. Even you." When Zay doesn't respond, worry flickers across Hunter's face, his lips parting. "I'm sorry, Zay. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"It doesn't fucking matter," Zay mumbles. "None of this does."

They grow quiet, and Hunter continues to frown as he sneaks glances at Zay. I can't tell if he's afraid of him or worried. Maybe a little of both. I find myself fascinated by it. How can he make people so afraid of him, even his own... friend? If that's what Hunter is. What I wouldn't give to have that talent. Then maybe people would stop tormenting me.

Eventually, people begin pouring into the classroom. No one says anything to Hunter or Zay, but a lot of them do double-takes in their direction then gawk at me. I'm not positive, but I have a suspicion that it has to do with the new seating arrangement. Why the hell is it such a big deal? Just what kind of guy is Zay?

The frown remains on Hunter's face until a tall guy with dark, chin-length hair enters the room. Like Hunter, he's dressed all in black and has a pretty face, although his seems to have a more beautifully haunted way about him, all serious, as if he hasn't laughed in a very long time. He also has a lip and brow piercing and tattoos cover his lean arms.

"Dude," Hunter says as he approaches. "I thought you weren't gonna show today."

"I didn't think I was either. My fucking car wouldn't start, and then..." He trails off as his gaze skates from Zay to me, a crinkle forming between his brows as he looks back at Hunter. "Did Mr. M. finally assign seats?"

Hunter shakes his head. "Nope."

The stranger looks at me, but I pretend not to notice, picking at my chipped fingernail polish.

He looks back at Hunter. "Is she aware she's sitting in Zay's seat?"

"Yeah," Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat and kicking his feet up onto the chair in front of him. "Apparently, she didn't want to move."

"She was a real bitch about it, too," Zay mumbles as he twists sideways in his seat.

So, I'm a bitch because I wouldn't move out of the seat when he demanded?

Annoyed, I tug out my earbuds. "I wasn't being a bitch just because I refused to obey you."

As Zay's gaze cuts to me, the stranger's brows rise while Hunter gives me some sort of cryptic pressing look.

Zay studies me for an intense beat. "You're right; you don't have any self-preservation."

"Actually, I think my exact words were I left it at home," I remind him. "Maybe I'll remember it tomorrow. But probably not since I have a habit of forgetting things. I'm so bad that I had to install that app on my phone that helps me find my phone because I kept losing it. But I don't think there's an app that helps people find their self-preservation. Maybe, though. I'll have to look into it."

Hunter smashes his lips together while the stranger stares at me with a crinkle between his brows.

Zay's dark gaze practically bores a hole into my head. "You know what? I think I'm going to enjoy teaching you your place here." Then he gets up and storms out of the classroom.

The stranger lets out an exhausted sigh. "Do you want to go check on him this time?" he asks Hunter.

Hunter shakes his head. "Might be better to let him vent it out this time."

"Maybe." The stranger drops into Zay's seat then turns around to look at me. "So, who are you?"

I have no plans of answering him, but Hunter does it for me.

"That'd be Ravenlee Wilowwynter. Raven for short." A smile dances at his lips as he glances at the stranger. "Ironic, isn't it?"

_Huh?_

The stranger stares at me with an unreadable expression. "Perhaps."

_Dude, these guys are weird._

"I tried earlier to get more information out of her," Hunter informs him, still appearing amused. "But she insisted she wants to remain mysterious. I'll wear her down, though. In fact, I predict we're going to be BFFs by October eighth." He winks at me.

"That's a really random number," I tell him. "Maybe you're the psychic."

Strands of his hair fall into his eyes as he shakes his head. "Nah, I'm just a goal setter, something you should know about me if we're going to be friends. You should also know that I almost always meet my goals, so get ready to start making those friendship bracelets."

"You might want to go easy on setting that goal," the stranger warns, "until you talk to Zay."

What is Zay? Like their ringleader or something?

Hunter slumps back in his seat, totally sulking. "Jax, why you gotta always ruin my fun like that?"

"Someone has to be your babysitter," the stranger—Jax—tells him, digging his phone out of his pocket.

Hunter's pout deepens. "I don't need a babysitter. You just think I do."

"Know. I _know_ you do," Jax throws back at him while opening a notebook.

The bell rings then and the teacher walks to the front of the classroom to start class.

Jax lowers his voice and whispers one final thing to Hunter. "Do I need to remind you of what happened with Clara? Or Jessa? Or Katy?" He gives Hunter a pressing look. "You get me? Or do you want me to keep jotting off names?"

Hunter frowns. "No, you can stop. I get it, and I'll try to back off." He flicks one quick glance in my direction, offering me what appears to be an apologetic look.

What the hell he's sorry for is beyond me. But what I'd really like to know is what happened to those girls Jax spoke of. And who the heck Jax, Zay, and Hunter are and why everyone appears to be afraid of them.

But, as a minute ticks by with me overanalyzing all sorts of ideas about it, I realize I'm focusing way too much time on these guys. And that's not my MO. So, I focus on class, refusing to even glance in Hunter or Jax's direction.

But, for some strange reason, I swear they're watching me. If they are, I have a feeling that isn't necessarily a good thing.
5

# Zay

I'm beyond riled up, which is never a good thing. But that goddamn girl has me all wound up in knots. Never have I had someone defy me like she did. Usually people fear me, and it's the way I like it. It makes people keep their distance, and that's what I need—what I want. The only exception to this is Hunter and Jax, my only friends.

The wall I put up is there for a good reason. It protects me from ever letting anyone into my life that might hurt me again. It also gives me the control that I need. After spending years of being controlled, I can't ever go back to that again.

But it feels like this girl with hair like raven feathers is trying to take my control away from me.

"Fuck," I growl out, gripping the steering wheel, rage pulsating underneath my skin.

After I stormed out of class, I headed out to Jax's SUV to attempt to get my shit together. But the longer I sit here, the more I think about the way that girl looked at me with such defiance. I can't get the look in her eyes out of my head. It's running on repeat in my mind and fueling my anger.

Those eyes...

That fucking defiance...

I can't get them out of my head, just like I can't get rid of this strange feeling that I know her from somewhere. But I can't figure out from where.

I've been suffering from random memory loss ever since I was a kid. While I've never been officially diagnosed with anything, my therapist believes that my memory loss happens whenever I experience something traumatic, which means I could know Raven if she was around me when something traumatic happened to me. But she didn't seem like she knew me. Maybe because she can't remember me?

Or maybe I'm just going crazy like everyone said I would. My dad has always said this to me because crazy runs in my family on my mother's side. It's part of the reason my dad hates me so much—because he thinks I'll go crazy like my mom did. And he's spent most of my life making sure I understand that he despises me. But he's just as big of a monster as I can be.

Like I'm about to be. Because in order for me to calm down, I'm going to either have to hurt myself or someone else. And while part of me craves the bite of a cold, metal, razor blade peeling away some of my flesh, the other part of me wants to hurt the girl that's made me lose my control over things—control over myself.

"Yeah, that girl needs to learn her place here," I mutter to myself then climb out of the car, already feeling the slightest bit better knowing I'm about to regain that control I crave.
6

# Raven

Zay never returns to class. I hate that I'm aware of this. Just like I hate that I'm aware of how Hunter ignores me, even when we walk out of the classroom at almost the same time.

Apparently, the warning Jax gave him Hunter was enough to make him back off his determination to become my new BFF because he doesn't say a word to me. It's probably for the better since, pretty soon, he'll meet the spawn of Satan since it's lunch break. And then she'll inform him of the deaths I have staining my hands.

"You're new, right?" A girl with long, brown hair and hazel eyes approaches me as I'm heading toward my locker. She's wearing jeans and a T-shirt, along with a plaid shirt and Converse sneaker. Her casual style makes her look like someone Dixie May wouldn't associate with, but I'm not going to completely discount the idea.

I nod, putting up my guard. "Yeah, I am."

She walks beside me, glancing behind us and down the hallway. Then she looks back at me and leans in. "Well, here's a little warning. That guy's seat you were sitting in today in class, his name is Zay and, trust me, you don't want to mess with him or his friends, Hunter and Jax, those other two guys that sat by you. They're kind of dangerous."

"Okay...?" I'm totally confused. "Thanks for the warning and everything, but why is it such a big deal that I sat at this Zay dude's desk? I mean, the seats aren't assigned."

She wavers. "It's kind of hard to explain to an outsider, but I'll try to give you the quick version of the story. That way, you'll understand and hopefully make the smart choice of staying away from The Raven Three."

"The Raven Three?"

"Yeah, that's what we call them. Or, well, it's the name they gave themselves. No one's really sure why."

The Raven Three, huh. No wonder Hunter said it was ironic that my name was Raven. That also might explain why he knew so much about the symbolism of the bird.

I study her with suspicion. "Why are you telling me this? I mean, why are you helping me?"

"Because I was new once and had to learn the hard way." She smiles. "I'm Katy, by the way."

_Katy_. I heard Jax mention her name on that list he prattled off to Hunter. But, what happened to the girls on the list?

"I'm Raven," I tell her with a small smile.

It's weird smiling at school. It's been a long time.

A long damn time.

"Raven? Huh, I really like that name." She adjusts the handle of her backpack higher onto her shoulder. "It's way more original than Katy."

"I like Katy better," I tell her as I swing around a couple making out in the middle of the hallway.

"You must be crazy then," she jokes with a grin.

Man, if she only knew how close to the truth she was. How I briefly spent time in a psychiatric hospital right after my parents died.

"Maybe a little bit," I agree, my chest feeling slightly pressurized.

_Slut._

_Freak._

_Murderer._

My scars throb.

She laughs like I'm making a joke, but I'm not. "You're funny, Raven. You should come sit with me and my friends at lunch." Her laughter fades and seriousness takes over. "It'll be good for you to have a group at this school, too. Someone to protect you."

Confusion swirls inside me. "Protect me from what?"

She sneaks a quick, nervous glance around at the people flooding the hallways. "The politics in this town. Sadly, the more money and power your family has here, the more shit you can get away with at this school. It's so bad that teachers will literally look the other way, even when someone is getting their ass kicked by some pretentious, rich, spoiled brat. And don't even get me started on the sexual assaults that get dusted under the rug."

Jesus, is she being serious? She sure looks like it, but...

"Doesn't anyone report that kind of stuff to the police?" I ask. "I mean, sexual assault cases don't really seem like they should be handled by school administrators."

"The police are just as bad at looking the other way, because they get bought off. And if they do try to do something about all the illegal crap going on in town, they end up like old Sheriff Bethrtor, may he rest in peace." She draws a cross over her chest. "Although, I heard a rumor that we have a new sheriff in town, so maybe that'll change. Doubtful, though."

Yeah, I doubt so, too, since my uncle isn't the type of do-gooder guy who will turn down cash to do the right thing. Obviously, since he has a huge-ass stash of stolen drugs. But I'm not about to tell her that.

"Yeah, maybe," I mumble.

She bobs her head up and down, dazing off for a minute. "But yeah, anyway, if you want to be smart and stay off the radar of all this corrupt shit, I'd recommend staying as far away from Zay, Jax, and Hunter as you can." She steps closer to me and lowers her voice. "Jax comes from one of the wealthiest families in town, and Zay is his cousin and lives with him. No one knows why he lives with him, but he's just as spoiled as Jax. But I've heard rumors that his dad's straight up crazy. And Jax's dad is a total asshole. He owns a huge part of the town, so a lot of people have to do what he says. It's really weird."

I attempt to process the information she just gave me but, _holy crap_ , this is weird. "Well, what about Hunter?"

She goes all doe-eyed for a moment before hastily blinking away the look. "Hunter lives with Jax and Zay, too. His dad works for Jax's dad as his"—she makes air quotes—" 'business consultant.' But everyone around here is pretty sure he basically makes sure anything ugly that could potentially tarnish the Capperellie name gets wiped clean."

That sounds... sketchy. "Wiped clean how?"

"I'm not sure, but there're a few theories. One being..." She drags her finger across her throat. "So, yeah, if I were you, I'd stay away from them. Especially Hunter."

Does she really believe that? That Hunter's dad kills people? Or does she just like to spread rumors?

"Really? Because Zay seems scarier."

"Oh, Zay is completely fucking scary," she assures me. "He's also into some really weird shit."

I adjust the books in my hand as we near my locker. "What kind of weird shit?"

She lifts a brow. "What sort of weird stuff do you think I'm talking about?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

She gives me a look like I'm an idiot. "Sexual shit."

"Oh." Now this is a topic of conversation I'm a bit unfamiliar with, being a virgin and all. Not that I'm some sort of prude who's going to blush over this or something. And it's not like I'm saving myself for marriage or anything like that. I've just never had the opportunity to have sex. I've never even been out on a date. I did get kissed once, but it was a stolen kiss that I refuse to ever think about.

"I'm not positive how true the rumors are since I haven't, and never will, go near Zay," Katy continues, "but I've heard he's into some really twisted stuff. And he never kisses anyone on the mouth and rarely touches anyone when he's messing around with them. And I've heard he likes it rough."

Okay, I may be a little naïve when it comes to sexual stuff, but that seems a bit weird to me.

"Why's he like that?" I wonder, telling myself I'm only curious, not interested. But it might be a little bit of both.

She shrugs. "Who the hell knows? I've heard, like, a ton of rumors about it, but the only people who really know the truth are Zay, Hunter, and Jax."

"They're, like, best friends, right?" I stop in front of my locker and start to spin the combination.

"No. They're more than that," she tells me. When she notices the confusion on my face, she adds, "It's kind of hard to explain, but the three of them are like some sort of freaky, human wolf pack or something. When I first moved here, I thought they were brothers, but I quickly learned their relationship is tighter than that. They aren't friends with anyone else, they never bring in outsiders, and they make no effort to associate with anyone, yet they always get invited to every party. It's partially out of fear and partially because I think a lot of people are hoping they'll be the lucky asshole who gets brought into their group." She shakes her head with a disgusted look on her face. "I don't know why they consider it lucky, though. They're jerks. And crazy. And just..." She shakes her head again.

"Sounds like you got a beef with them," I say as I pull open my locker.

She chews on her bottom lip. "Well, I hooked up with Hunter once. It was the biggest mistake of my life, something I realized right after, when he told me to take care and left me lying in bed naked. He didn't even wait for me to get dressed before ditching me. And we were at his house, and he just took off, and..." She clears her throat. "But anyway, I should've known better, because that's what Hunter does. He uses girls and everyone knows this, yet I somehow convinced myself that I'd be the one to change him."

"I'm sorry... I can kind of see how you fell for him, though. He seems really..." I waver for the right word. "Charming."

"You've talked to him?" she asks, and for the strangest second, I detect a hint of jealousy in her eyes.

I nod, my guard going up even more. If she is jealous, then that means she's not over him, and I don't need any jealous girl drama on top of the drama Dixie May is going to cause for me.

"Yeah, he was in the main office this morning when I picked up my schedule." I choose my words carefully. "He just said hi, but I wasn't really that interested in him."

Her brows elevate. "Seriously?"

"Yep."

"How? I mean, you did see him, right?"

I nod. "Yeah."

She gapes at me. "And you didn't think he was hot?"

"No." Not a total lie. Yeah, I thought he was pretty. Honestly, all three of them are. But I'm not about to tell her that aloud.

She shakes her head, her jaw practically hanging to her knees. "You really are crazy, aren't you?"

I bump my locker shut. "I think we already established that, didn't we?"

Grinning, she points a finger at me. "You know what? I think you and I are going to be good friends."

That's the second time someone has said that to me today, but that doesn't mean I'm hopeful. No, I've had friends before. However, they ended the moment my parents died. For anyone else who thought to be my friend, they quickly reconsidered after they found out the truth. And I know it'll always be that way, because no one wants to be friends with a murderer.

Her lips part then close, her forehead creasing as she retrieves her phone from her pocket. She reads a message then curses. "Shit. I forgot I was supposed to meet the counselor at lunchtime." She stuffs her phone into her pocket. "I gotta go, but if you want, you can sit by my friends at lunch. They sit at the table near the far back doors." She backs away from me, moving down the hallway. "Most of them will have sketchbooks out, 'cause we're all art nerds. But we're cool. I promise." She throws me a wave then spins around, her shoes squeaking against the linoleum as she hurries off.

Sighing, I wander down the hallway, trying to decide whether or not I want to endeavor the cafeteria or just skip lunch and pick something up on the walk home waiting for me at the end of the day. Normally, I skip lunch, mostly because of an incident in seventh grade when I got a tray of spaghetti dumped onto my head, then everyone started cracking jokes about how I must've killed someone again, that the spaghetti sauce was really blood. After that, I made a point to bring my lunch and eat it in the bathroom. Then, eventually, I started walking to food places to get something to eat. But I don't know my way around town yet, so I'm unsure if I have time to make it to any fast food places in time.

I could take up Katy's offer and try to sit by her friends, but without her around, it just seems weird. And who knows if rumors have been spreading about me yet? I haven't heard anything, so maybe Dixie May is waiting to spill the gossip about me. Why she's waiting, I have no damn clue.

And what about this Zay guy? He warned me that he was going to show me my place in this town. Before, I wasn't that worried, but after what Katy told me, I feel slightly apprehensive. I'd probably be scared shitless if I hadn't spent the last six years of my life living in bullied hell every day.

_Slut._

_Freak._

_Murderer._

Just as I'm about to arrive at the cafeteria, I receive a text message, which is weird. No one ever texts me. Like ever. Well, except for on the rare occurrence when my aunt notifies me of a chore that she wants me to do while she's out. It's really the only reason I have a phone. And it's a really shitty phone. Like, I'm talking one that flips open.

I dig my phone out of my pocket, and my guard instantly goes up when I see Bitchy Bitch of the West has texted me. Aka, Dixie May.

**Bitchy Bitch of the West: My mom says you have my makeup case. You better give it to me ASAP before I get pissed. And you better not touch any of my makeup. The last thing I want is to get like herpes or something from you.**

I roll my eyes as I type back.

**Me: Yes, I have it. And no, I didn't touch it. I have no desire to look like Bobo the Clown on my first day of school.**

**Bitchy Bitch of the West: Nah, you just prefer to look like a hobo, which, FYI, you're doing a stellar job at.**

**Me: Well, at least I can do a stellar job at something. You can't even work your clown look.**

**Bitchy Bitch of the West: You know what? I was trying to be nice to you, but since you've decided to be such a bitch, I think I'm going to let everyone know who you really are. I've already obtained the phone numbers of some very popular people in the school, and I think I'm going to send them a link to that article about your parents' deaths.**

I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

**Me: You can, but then I just might dump your makeup case in the trash.**

**Bitchy Bitch of the West: Don't be a freakin' idiot. There's like hundreds of dollars' worth of makeup in that case. And the case is designer!**

**Me: Yeah, so? Like you've pointed out a ton of times, I don't really care about that sort of stuff.**

**Bitchy Bitch of the West: Raven, I swear to God, if you don't give me my makeup case, I'm gonna make your life a living hell.**

I'm about to type back how I'll hold her makeup case as collateral until I can be certain she won't send that link to everyone when a guy steps out from one of the alcoves and right in front of me. I slam to a stop but not quickly enough and end up slamming into him.

"Sorry," I apologize, stepping back. Then I frown.

Zay is standing in front of me, his eyes dark, his face just a shadow beneath the hood of his jacket. He has his arms crossed and a ghost of what some might consider a smile on his face. Me? I know better. Know that the twist of his lips is a warning of what's to come. My uncle's lips do the exact same thing right before he's about to beat my ass.

Instead of freaking out, I calmly move to step around him, but he darts his hand out, wrapping his fingers around my arm.

"You're not going anywhere," he whispers in a low tone.

"Fuck off." I try to jerk my arm back, but his grip tightens. My gaze slides to him. Though his lips are twisted in that frightening way, I keep myself composed, knowing that, if I panic, this'll go down a lot worse. "Let go of my arm," I warn.

"Or what?" he challenges.

I rack my brain for a good comeback. Usually, I'm better at this, but Katy's warnings are screaming loudly in my brain. "Or I'll slam my foot into your balls."

He lets out a low laugh. "Go ahead and try. I'll knock you out before you even come close."

Goosebumps sprout across my flesh, yet I manage to hold his gaze. "Go ahead and try," I taunt back. "My bet is my foot will come into contact with your balls before you get your swing in." I smirk. "I can kick pretty damn quickly."

His lips curl into the eeriest smile I've ever seen. "Yeah, but can you kick fast enough to get all three of us before I knock your ass out?"

_Three of us..._

I scan the hallway, and that awesome buzz I had earlier dissolves.

Standing just a ways back and leaning against a locker with his arms cross is Jax. Other than that, no one else appears to be in the hallway.

Where did everyone go?

Did they make everyone leave?

Why?

And why did he say the three of us?

I look back at Zay, who's grinning, but not in a happy sort of way. No, his grin is all sorts of sinister.

"Still think you can get that kick in?" he questions with a smirk.

Despite the nervousness bubbling inside me, I shrug. "Jax is far enough away that I'm sure I could still get one good kick in before he reached me. And FYI, three comes after two, not the other way around. It's okay, though. Not everyone can learn to count past two. My nephew always gets two and five mixed up. Then again, he's two, so..." I smirk.

His smirk broadens. "You should pay more attention before you start smarting off. Because, in about three seconds, you're gonna feel very stupid."

"Three seconds? Or two?" I throw back at him, my stomach churning.

He shakes his head, his jaw ticking. "Stupid girl. You do have a death wish."

My lips part, about to fire a comeback, even though, deep down, I know I should keep my mouth shut. If I had any self-preservation, I would. But I already established that I don't. That I'm stubborn and have a temper that often makes my mouth do stupid things. It's gotten me in trouble many times. I used to try to break the habit, but at this point, I've given up.

_Give up, Raven._

_Just give up._

God, how I've wanted to many times, and honestly, I'm not sure why I haven't yet.

"Sorry, little raven," a male voice whispers in my ear as I feel an arm slide around my waist.

I move to elbow him, but he slides his arms up, trapping my arm against my side, while Zay still holds my other arm.

"Let me go," I growl out.

Zay holds up three fingers. "One, two, three," he counts off, folding his fingers into a fist. Then he cranes back his arm, as if he's going to punch.

I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the impact. But it never comes.

After a few beats of silence skip by, I crack open my eyes, half-expecting him to be gone. But nope. He's still right in front of me, his arms crossed, a pleased smile possessing his face.

"Take her to the car," he tells the guy who has his arms wrapped around me.

The guy's chest crashes against my back as he lets out an exhale. "You sure you want to do this, Zay? This might be enough. I mean, she's shaking pretty badly."

That voice... I've heard it before. Hunter, the guy who I thought was charming. Now, he just seems like a whipped pussy. Zay being the one who's whipped him into submission.

"I'm not shaking." I hold my chin high. "I'm not even scared."

Zay leans in, his breath hot on my face. "Liar."

"Psychopath."

That eerie smile returns as he slants back. "Yeah, you definitely have a death wish."

"And I have a feeling you have a fetish for handing those out," I quip. "But if you so much as try to take me out of this school, I'll scream."

He laughs darkly, causing a chill to slither up my spine. "Go ahead. Scream. No one here's gonna do a damn thing about it. And soon, you'll learn why."

"I already know why," I inform him. "I don't need a recap about who you are. The Raven Three."

He measures me up. "Who told you?"

I lift a shoulder. "A little raven."

"I want a name so I know who's been running their mouth about shit they shouldn't." He digs a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his jacket. "And I'll know if you're lying." Then he lights up right there in the hallway.

What the actual shit?

He takes a drag off the cigarette. "Clock's ticking. And if you don't give me a name soon, I'll punish you for their mistake."

"Why's it a mistake?" I ask as he blows smoke into my face. "They just told me about you. And, if I'm remembering correctly, you wanted me to know about you when I sat in your seat."

He sucks in another inhale from the cigarette. "People aren't allowed to gossip about me. Everyone knows this. And if they break the rules, they need to pay."

I hold my breath as he exhales a cloud of smoke into my face again. "Yeah, well, I'm not gonna out them."

He drags his finger along the end of the cigarette, scattering ashes all over the floor. "Then I guess you're going to pay for their mistake _and_ for yours."

My lips twitch in annoyance. "I didn't do anything to you, other than sit in your damn seat."

He gets in my face "You smarted off, which is about the worst thing you can do to me."

I roll my tongue in my mouth, my blood boiling. "Other than kick you in the balls."

He's so surprised that it takes him a second to speak. "Nah, I can handle that just fine." He flashes me an emotionless grin then backs down the hallway. "Let's take her to _the spot_."

Hunter keeps his arms around me as he pushes me forward, forcing me to follow Zay. Jax moves up beside us with his hands stuffed into his pockets, his gaze fixed on Zay.

I attempt to dig my heels into the floor, but it doesn't do any good.

"I can't just leave school," I gripe. "It's my first day."

Zay glances over his shoulder at me and rolls his eyes. "That's the last thing you should be worried about."

"Why? What're you going to do to me?" As I ask the question—and calmly, I might add—a revelation dawns on me.

I've become fairly numb to fear, either because I'm used to it or I really do have a death wish. I'm not even certain I fear death anymore. I did once, back before and during my parents' deaths. I feared it then. But over the years, that will to survive, to live, has slowly withered like a wilting raven feather.

He lifts the end of his cigarette toward his lips again. "Now, what'd be the fun in telling you?"

"To scare me?" I suggest.

He shakes his head and looks forward again, muttering, "Damn stupid girl does have a goddamn death wish."

_Yeah, Zay, I completely agree._
7

# Raven

We leave the school without crossing paths with anyone. When we start across the parking lot, though, a couple of people are lingering around, eating their lunches. But everyone looks in the opposite direction as we pass, except for Mr. Mcnellton, who's heading to his car. He glances at the three of us and frowns.

Seizing the opportunity, I give him a come-on-dude-help-me-out look, but he quickly looks away and ducks into his beat-up Honda Civic.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, I wiggle my arms, attempting to escape again. Hunter just pulls me closer, holding me against his chest.

"Easy, little raven," he whispers in my ear. "If you cooperate, things'll end up a hell of a lot better for you."

"I really doubt that," I mumble back. "And stop calling me little raven."

"But it's such a fitting name." Amusement flitters in his tone.

"No, it's not," I scoff. "Yeah, my name is Raven, but I'm not little."

"Hate to break it to you, little raven, but you kind of are," Hunter teases as he slows to a stop in front of a black SUV with tinted windows.

I tense at the sight of the car, flashbacks of the day my parents died flickering through my mind.

_A dark SUV with tinted windows rolls up to the front of my house._

_"Who is that, Mom?" I ask as I peer out the window._

_She gasps as she looks out the window. "Hide. Now, Raven. Don't let them see you."_

The memory fades. It always does. I can barely recall anything else that happened, except the blood that ended up on my hands and what everyone told me they believed I did.

_You killed them._

_Murderer._

_Evil._

"I'm five-foot-nine," I point out, shoving away all thoughts of that day and the days that followed. I can't think about it too much. If I do, I'll crumble, which is fine when I'm alone. But in front of others, I have to be Raven, the girl who doesn't give a shit about anything. And I really need to be that girl in front of these guys. "That's far from little."

"Yeah, but you're still small compared to us," he quips as Jax moves in front of us and opens the back door to the SUV, seemingly distracted by something on his phone.

True. These guys are at least six-two, if not taller, which makes me feel kind of small. But not little...

My thoughts become sidetracked when Hunter nudges me toward the SUV, trying to shove me into the back seat. Panicking, I prop my foot up on the sidestep and throw my weight back, opening my mouth to scream.

"Help—"

Hunter curses, slapping his hand across my mouth and muffling the scream. "Help me out, Jax."

Jax looks up from his phone then tosses it into the SUV before grabbing my legs. "This is gonna happen whether you like it or not," he tells me as he drags my legs away from the sidestep.

Then Hunter and he work together to shove me in the car. But I manage to kick Jax in the stomach. He grunts, letting go of my legs. Grasping the opportunity, I bite Hunter's hand. He lets out a string of curses, his grip on me loosening just enough for me to escape from his arms.

I whirl around, preparing to run, when another set of lean arms wrap around me.

"Fight all you want. This is going to end in only one way," Zay says in the most eerily bored tone ever.

I throw my weight forward. "Go fuck yourself."

"That statement is going to seem pretty damn ironic to you in just a few minutes." Then he scoops me up and slings me over his shoulder.

As his words replay in my mind, the fear I thought was gone pours through me.

Wait... Does he mean—

He tosses me into the back seat hard enough that I bounce against the leather and fall onto the floor. I scramble to get up, but Zay climbs in and grabs ahold of me, dragging me up onto the seat beside him.

"Let go of me, asshole." I move to head-butt him, but he slants back.

"The more you fight, the worse this is going to be."

"Says every serial killer ever," I mutter, fury burning underneath my skin.

"Are you saying I'm a serial killer?" he asks, mildly amused.

It's the first time he's shown any signs of emotion, besides irritation, and considering the situation...

"Are you?" I ask.

He chuckles. Actually fucking chuckles. "I guess you're about to find out."

That whole grasp on calmness I had is starting to fray.

Hunter sticks his head into the car and glances at me then at Zay. "You want me to drive?"

"Yeah. I'll sit back here and make sure she behaves," Zay tells him, drawing me closer to him.

I manage to jab my elbow into his side, hard enough that he winces.

A smile plays at Hunter's lips as his gaze skates from me to Zay. "You sure you can handle her? She's feistier than we're used to."

I glare at him. "You haven't even seen feisty yet."

Hunter arches a brow, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Is that so?"

"Yep." I offer him a cold smile. "But you'll find that out soon."

He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he returns his attention to Zay. "So, you're good with sitting with her?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Just drive careful," he warns in a quiet tone.

The statement and his tone seem oddly out of place considering how taunting he's been.

Nodding, Hunter closes the door then climbs into the driver's seat while Jax hops in on the passenger side.

"So, are we going with option one or two?" Hunter asks as he starts up the engine and adjusts the rearview mirror.

"It should be option two." Jax cracks the window open then pops a cigarette into his mouth, lighting up. "I have a feeling she's not going to go for option one."

Hunter gives him a curious look. "Why do you think that?"

Jax shrugs, casting a glance at me. Then he looks forward and shrugs. "Because she's a fighter."

I struggle to maintain even breathing. He's worried because I'm a fighter? What're they planning on doing to me that he's worried about me fighting? None of the possibilities that come to mind seem like a good thing.

Katy's warnings ring in my head. _You don't want to mess with them. They're kind of dangerous._

I can't keep the shiver from rolling through my body, and then I internally cringe, knowing Zay felt it.

Keeping one arm in front of me, he dips his lips toward my ear. "So you do get scared. Good to know."

I try to smack my head against his again, but he leans out of the way and chuckles.

Jax tosses a curious yet confused look over his shoulder at Zay.

"What?" Zay questions as Hunter steers out of the parking space. "What the hell is that look for?"

Jax lifts a shoulder then cracks the window open a bit more, letting cool air gust into the cab. "What look?"

"You know what look." Zay shifts his position as Hunter pulls the SUV onto the road. Then he drags me to his side and stiffly puts one arm in front of me, pinning me against the seat.

His movements are slightly shaky, like either he's too worked up or afraid of me. The latter doesn't make sense, though.

My fingers curl into fists, my fingernails piercing my flesh. Instead of running my mouth, though, I try another tactic, wiggling my arms around until my fingers are near my pocket where my phone is. If I can get to it, I might be able to call for help.

Jax shakes his head as he ashes the cigarette out the window. "No, I really don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, brother."

"Brother?" I ask as I feel around in my pocket for my phone. "I thought you guys were cousins?"

"We are cousins, technically." Jax stares ahead at the road as he lifts the end of his cigarette to his mouth. "But Zay is more of a brother to me than even my own brothers. He's been there for me when no one else has, and I know without a doubt he'd take a bullet for me."

The concept of cousins being close is lost on me, and when Jax glances over his shoulder at me, he must notice my confusion.

"You have a cousin, right? The one that you live with?" he says, but it's not really a question. "Aren't you close with her?"

I snort a laugh. "Yeah, that's a big, fat no. But, how do you even know we're cousins? Usually, she tries to keep that info pretty hush hush."

"Oh, we know all about you, Ravenlee Wilowwynter," Zay taunts. "The parentless girl who lives with her aunt, uncle, and very shallow cousin. Who's gotten suspended from school countless times, yet hasn't gotten expelled because her uncle, who just happens to be a cop, bails her out every time. I'm wondering why, though? Is it because he loves you or is it an embarrassment to his family? From some of the stuff I've read in your files, I'm guessing it's the latter."

_I'd really like to know the answer myself..._

_Wait..._

My pulse quickens. "What files?"

"Oh, I read all sorts of files during my little fourth period break," he continues to torment me. "Your school records. Your therapy records. I even saw a copy of the agreement your uncle signed when he took you in after your parents died. Apparently, he did it because, if he takes care of you until you graduate, he'll get a nice chunk of the cash your father left behind."

The words my uncle said to my aunt this morning pierce through my mind.

_I made an agreement when I took her in. She's going to live with us until she graduates high school._

I've often wondered why he's never gotten rid of me. Now it makes sense. Then again, my parents weren't rich by any means, so I'm still kind of confused. I mean, my mom worked at a gas station and my dad... Well, he stole a lot of stuff and conned people for a living. But he wasn't a terrible man, at least to me and my mom. He also didn't have ton of money, so how is my uncle getting a big payout for taking care of me until I graduate?

"I also know you spent a little bit of time in a psychiatric hospital," Zay continues. "Because, apparently, there was speculation that you killed your parents."

Images flash through my mind, along with rage.

_Blood on my hands._

_Where am I?_

_Who are those bloody people lying on the floor in front of me?_

_What happened?_

_Where am I?_

_Why can't I remember anything?_

"Shut up," I whisper in a shaky tone.

Tears sting my eyes, but I suck them back. Will them to get the fuck out of my eyes. I haven't cried since that day, and I sure as hell am not going to start now, especially in front of these guys.

"Why?" His tone is all sorts of mocking. "Is it hurting your feelings?"

"No," I reply flatly. "It's pissing me off."

"Pissing you off because it's true?" he goads with a smirk.

As blood roars in my eardrums, I stab my fingernails deeper into my palms until I feel the flesh split open.

"If it is," I say in a calm tone, "then you might want to be a little more careful around me."

Jax looks back at me while Hunter glances at me through the rearview mirror. Neither pity nor fear reflect in their eyes like I expect. No, they look intrigued.

A low laugh reverberates from Zay's chest, but not of drop of humor rings in the noise. "You know what I think?" he says. "I don't think I have anything to worry about. And you want to know why? Because I don't think you killed them."

"Then I guess you're an idiot," I say. "Because I did."
8

# Raven

No one utters a word for about a minute after my declaration. And for a second, I think that maybe I've scared them enough that they'll bail out of whatever they plan on doing to me. But then I realize I'm wrong as Hunter makes a turn off the main highway and down a side road that leads toward the hills that are dotted with snow.

"So, we're going with option two then." Jax bobs his head as his gaze skims the snowy hills and trees bordering the road. "Good call."

"Don't pretend like I made the call," Hunter replies as he speeds up the SUV. "You know you always get the final say."

Jax flicks his cigarette out the window then reclines in the seat and crosses his arms. "Because I'm the only rational one out of the three of us."

To imply any of them are rational has me rolling my eyes.

Jax notices but doesn't remark, looking away from me and staring out the window again. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't the only rational one. It'd make things a hell of a lot easier."

"You could always just stop," Zay suggests, using his free hand to dig a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

While he's distracted, I shift my position and move my hand into my pocket. A breath eases from my lips as my fingers brush against my phone. I wait for Zay to catch me, but he seems too distracted with lighting up his cigarette and taking a drag, so I keep going, slowly flipping my phone open. Then I slide my fingers along the buttons, pushing the one I believe is my aunt's contact number—

"What're you doing?" Zay snaps, jerking on my arm and yanking my hand out of my pocket.

My phone flies out and lands on the floor with a thud.

"Stop!" I shout, writhing around in a lame-ass attempt to escape. I'm not going to stop fighting until the end. It's in my blood to fight.

_"Whatever you do, never give up,"_ my dad once told me. _"Hold your ground and fight. You got that, Raven. You fight until the very end,"_

He did that a lot—taught me to defend myself—starting when I turned six, and we moved into a neighborhood that had a pretty high crime rate. And even though I know Zay is a huge dude and I probably don't stand a chance, I keep on fighting.

Jax's gaze snaps back to us. Then he leans over the console and scoops up my phone.

"Give me that!" I growl. "That's mine!"

Jax ignores me, rolls down the window, and throws it out of the car.

"You're an asshole," I snap as Zay pins me against the seat again.

Jax gives a shrug. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have," I snap, my pulse pounding and not just with fear. No, I'm more pissed off than anything else.

How dare they take me against my will.

How dare they taunt me.

How dare they read my personal files.

It's just like with Dixie May, always controlling me. Everyone is always controlling me. I'm so pissed off. But I'm also tired. Really, really tired of always being pushed around, mocked, beaten down.

"How did you get ahold of those files about me?" I ask, sounding way too calm with how I feel inside.

"I have connections," Zay replies simply. "All of us do. With the teachers, the cops. In fact, we have almost everyone in this town wrapped around our little fingers, which makes getting what we want pretty damn easy."

"Good for you," I say. "But whatever you're about to try to make me do, it's not gonna happen."

"Is that so?" Zay questions. "Well, I guess we're about to find out."

Right as he says it, Hunter slows the car to a stop, and fear manages to prickle up through my anger.

We're parked in front of an old, rickety bridge that stretches across a river. It's cold enough up in the hills that patches of snow cover the area and chunks of ice stick out from the shore and stretch out across the water.

I swallow hard. "Why are we here?"

Zay doesn't utter a word as he shoves the door open and climbs out. Hunter silences the engine and follows Zay's lead. Jax is the one to linger inside as he rotates in the seat to face me.

"You know, part of me wishes you would've just given him his damn seat," he tells me. "You seem like a nice enough girl. A bit feisty, but not really in a bad way." He assesses me for a beat. "Why didn't you just give him his seat?"

I lift a shoulder. "I don't like being told what to do. And I don't like arrogant jerks who think they always get their way and can walk all over everyone. I'm tired of it... Tired of getting pushed around."

He studies me unnervingly. "Have you been pushed around a lot in your life?"

For reals? He wants me to open up to him?

"Does it really matter?" I ask. "If I tell you my sob story, is it gonna make you pity me enough to let me go?"

He shakes his head. "No."

"Okay, then let's get this over with." Mustering up every ounce of courage I have, I scoot to the edge of the seat then hop outside.

The air is way chiller up here than it was in town, and the space of flesh between my knee-highs and the hem of my shorts instantly dots with goosebumps. I shiver, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Holy balls, it's cold up here," I mutter, my breath puffing from my lips in a cloud of smoke.

"Funny you think that, because in just a second, you're going to remember this moment and the warmth." Zay smiles at me coldly then unnecessarily reaches around me to shut the door.

I resist asking questions, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's got me worried. And he does have me concerned. What he said...

My gaze drifts to the water. Water which I'm sure is freezing, considering the ice floating around in it.

Noticing the direction of my gaze, Zay grins. "I think you might be putting two and two together. Maybe you're not as dumb as I thought." He grabs the sleeve of my jacket and tows me to the front of the car where Jax and Hunter are waiting.

Hunter appears fidgety, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt while Jax takes out his phone and glances at the screen.

"We have about an hour before we need to be at the house," Jax says. "So let's make this quick." He stuffs his phone away then turns to me, raking his fingers through his hair. "The thing is, Raven, we have a reputation to uphold. People are scared of us, and for good reasons. And we need them to stay that way. But for that to happen, we have to keep up that fear factor, which means making sure everyone knows their place. You, however, seem to have a hard time with that. And while you may be one person, if your defiant attitude becomes a fad, we're going to have a problem on our hands."

"It's not going to become a fad." I wrap my arms around myself as the wind picks up, blowing strands of hair into my eyes. "I'm not the kind of girl who sets fads. I'm the kind of girl that people try not to be like."

Jax's gaze flicks up and down my body. "I really doubt that."

"I don't know why you would. You know I'm a murderer. Just like almost everyone back in my hometown did." I shift my weight. "No one wants to be like a murderer." Well, except for maybe Zay, but I decide to keep my snarky thought to myself for now since I'm fairly confident they're about to force me into that freezing cold river.

_I need to talk my way out of this. Need to be nice._

_Remember how to be nice, Raven?_

The problem is that it's been a really long damn time since I've had a reason to be nice.

But I have to try.

"I can try to be better," I force the words out of my mouth. "If you'll just let me go."

Jax briefly studies me before gazing out at the water. I think he might be considering my offer until I spot the apologetic look on Hunter's face.

"We can't just let you off without punishing you first," Jax says, redirecting his attention to me. "It's not really how we work, and we can't start working that way. Not unless we want to lose our power. And with how things are at..." He trails off as Hunter gives him a wide-eyed, pressing look.

I wonder where he was going with that statement. How things are where?

"Anyway," Jax continues. "We need our power. And while I want to believe you'll change and can be trainable, you're really stubborn, which leaves us with only one option."

I hold my breath as I wait for him to tell me what I think I already know.

"So, here's what you're going to do." He turns toward the river and points toward a rusty beam that extends out from the bridge and over the water. "You're going to climb up there and jump into the river." His gaze slices to me, his expression turning cold. "And the next time you so much as even think about smarting off to any of us, you remember what it was like to feel your blood turn to ice and the chill of the water seep into your bones." He steps toward me, his boots scuffing against the snowy dirt. "Remember what it was like not to be able to breathe for a second, to have the cold water rip away your ability. Remember what it was like to sink to the bottom and, for a split moment, worry that you won't ever make it to the surface again." He traces his finger along my cheekbone. "Remember that helpless feeling we gave you. Remember we're in control of everything in Honeyton and that we'll do anything to keep that control." He strokes my cheek like I'm a pet.

Okay, maybe I was wrong when I said Zay might be the serial killer. Jax might be even scarier in a very serial killer-ish sort of way.

"And what if I won't jump?" I ask, relieved I've still managed to hold on to the ability to sound calm.

"Oh, you will," he assures me, withdrawing his fingers from my cheek. "Either you can do it willingly or we can help you out."

I swallow hard, my gaze drifting to the river again. Not only do the rapids look freezing, but I'm not sure how deep the water is, which poses a huge problem, seeing as how I can't swim. Not that my parents didn't try to teach me. They did a couple of times, but they kind of gave up when they realized I feared water and would freak the hell out every time they put me in a pool.

_Maybe if I tell them, they won't make me do this._

I nearly laugh at the stupidity of my own thoughts, but decide I have to at least try.

"I can't swim." I fidget with the leather bands on my wrists, feeling very exposed at the moment.

Zay snorts a laugh. "Nice try, but we've heard better lies from others trying to get out of this."

My gaze skims the three of them, my heart rate quickening. "You guys do this to people a lot?"

Zay gives a lazy shrug. "How do you think we got everyone to fear us?"

As the urge to chatter arises, I press my lips together. Jesus, I think I'm going to have to jump. If I do, are they going to save me when they realize I can't swim?

Probably not, which means...

Am I about to die?

I could try to run, but we're out in the middle of nowhere, with three of them and one of me...

My gaze travels to the road behind me. _How fast can I run?_

As if sensing my thoughts, Zay sidesteps in front of me and folds his arms. "Don't even think about running. You won't make it very far, and you'll be punished even more if you do."

"Punished more than potentially dying? Yeah, I doubt that," I mutter, racking my brain for another way around this.

Zay gives me a calculating assessment. "There is one other option if you're too chicken shit to jump."

Aw, yes, option one, the option Jax believed I was too much of a fighter for.

"What is it?" I ask warily.

Zay rubs his lips together then glances at Jax.

"We decided we should stick with option two," Jax reminds him, resting his arm on top of the hood.

"I know." Zay flits a glance in my direction then looks back at Jax. "But if she doesn't want to jump, we might as well give her the option."

Jax's brow meticulously arches. "And giving her this option has nothing to do with you wanting to give her the option?"

"No," Zay insists in an irritated tone. "She's just interesting enough that I'm curious how it'll go if we give her the other option."

Jax rubs his jawline as snow begins fluttering from the dark clouds. "If you want to give it to her, then go ahead. I don't think it's going to turn out how you want it to, though." He steps back and gestures at Zay to get a move on.

Hunter grins at me, snowflakes covering the top of his head. "I really hope, little raven, that you think carefully about your options here and make the smarter choice because, personally, I don't want to see that pretty face of yours frozen in pain if you dive into that water."

I glare at him, but he keeps on grinning.

Gritting my teeth, I twist back to face Zay. "What's the other option?"

He gradually reclines against the front of the car and drags out the silence, probably to show me that he's the one in charge here. "Instead of jumping off the beam, we'll let you spend the rest of the year being our servant."

"Your servant?" I repeat, unsure if I heard him clearly because, seriously, he wants me to be his _servant_?

No fucking way.

"Yes, servant. Which, in case you're too stupid to understand what that word means"—he smirks at me when I glare at him—"it means you'll spend the rest of the school year doing whatever we want you to do."

I frown. "That sounds really unappealing."

He shrugs. "Then I guess it's the water for you."

I hug my arms around myself and chew on my bottom lip. Maybe I could do that—be their servant. Swallow down my pride for a bit. But I guess it really depends on what that entails.

"Like, what sort of stuff would you want me to do? Clean your house? Make you food? Because you should know I'm a terrible cook."

"I'm not talking about cooking or cleaning our house," he says with a dark grin. "Well, unless I'm in the mood to see a little maid outfit on you, which doesn't sound like a bad idea now that I think about it."

Wait... Does he want me to be, like, his naughty maid or something?

As he assesses me closely, he tilts his head to the side. "You know, just by looking at you, and after talking to you for the last hour and reading through your files, I wouldn't have guessed you're naïve. But I don't know... That confused look on your face has me wondering."

"I'm not confused," I lie, because I kind of am.

He casts a quick glance at Jax and Hunter then slides his gaze back to me, dragging it up and down my body. Then he crosses his arms. "Are you a virgin?" he asks bluntly. "Because, if you are, I'm not sure option one'll work."

It clicks then that I was correct about what he wants.

My stomach churns, my fingernails delving into the fresh wounds covering my palms. "You want me to be your whore? No effing way."

He angles his head to the side as he studies me with mild amusement. "You wouldn't be a whore if you didn't want to do it."

"I don't," I assure him.

He tilts his head to the other side. "Huh. I've never heard that one before." He glances at Hunter. "What about you, brother?"

"Nope." Hunter steps up behind me and brushes a few snowflakes from my shoulder, making me want to smack him. "I think we might have an anomaly on our hands."

He sounds just like my aunt, which pisses me off.

"I'm not an anomaly," I bite out. "And I really doubt this is the first time a girl has turned down your option."

"Oh, it is." Zay assesses me way too closely with his dark eyes. "But every other time we've given a girl the option, it hasn't been under these circumstances. We've never had to drag a girl out here before. We've always picked who we wanted and proposed the idea. And none of them turned it down. In fact, they're always eager to accept. It was never a threat, but an honor."

"Bullshit," I say. "I bet they're just afraid of you."

He rolls his eyes. "We've never had to scare a girl like this before. You're an anomaly whether you think you are or not. Now, we have taken some guys out to this bridge, but they don't get option one. But none of them have ever made the jump either."

I swallow hard, not wanting to ask, but needing to know. "So, what happened to them?"

"Happened to who?" he says with a smirk, and my stomach sinks. Still smirking, he snaps his fingers. "See how fast we can make you disappear, Raven? And from what I've read about you, I don't really think anyone is going to miss you, the little murderer whose aunt and uncle had to take in because the police couldn't build a good enough case to put you in juvie or in a psych ward permanently."

I ball my hands into fists. Then I lift my hand, preparing to swing at him. Deep down, I know it won't do any good, but at least I'll get to hit him one time before I dive to my death.

He catches my fist, stopping me right before my knuckles collide with his cheek. "Nice try, but you're going to have to do better than that." He shoves me back a little before releasing my hand. "Now, it's time for you to decide your fate because my brothers and I got other shit to do today."

He acts as if this isn't a big deal, which makes me wonder what kind of stuff is a big deal to him. Just how bad do things have to get before he feels some sort of guilt?

_I guess I'm about to find out._

"I'm not going to sleep with you and be your servant." I square my shoulders. "I choose to jump off the bridge."

Disbelief flickers in his dark eyes, but he quickly erases it and shrugs. "Fine." He gestures at the bridge. "Go ahead then."

I suck in a breath, and then another, waiting for them to announce that this is all a joke. Not that I really believe that's going to happen. I can see in his eyes that he doesn't care what happens to me. Still, I latch on to hope, stupidly probably.

After a few slamming heartbeats go by and no one says anything, I turn and start toward the bridge. Snow flutters from the sky and covers the ground, causing my boots to slip underneath me. Having lived in a rather warm place most of my life, this whole snow thing is relatively new to me. I just hope the water is not too much colder than the air. How cold does it have to be before I get hypothermia?

I really hope I don't find out the answer to that.

I sigh as I reach the bridge. Then I inch over to the side and peer down. The water isn't too far down, but I was never worried about the distance. Honestly, I'm not even super concerned about hypothermia either, because freezing to death isn't going to matter if I can't figure out how to swim to the surface.

_"Just kick your feet, Raven," my dad tries to encourage as he stands in the pool with me, helping keep me afloat as he tries to teach me how to swim. "You can do this, sweetie. You can do anything if you put your mind to it."_

God, how I wish his words were true, but I'm not sure my mind is going to get me out of this. No, the only thing that'll be able to save me is for me to either run and hope they don't kill me, which I kind of think they might, or jump and hope I either float to the surface or that one of them feels sorry enough that they save me.

"Quit stalling!" Zay shouts out, his voice echoing across the hills.

I glance back at him, then at Jax, before finally looking at Hunter, searching for a sign that this is all a big joke or that they feel bad, but I can't see their expressions through the falling snow.

Sucking in a breath, I direct my attention away from them. Then, taking another inhale and exhale, I hoist myself over the railing and onto the beam. My boots instantly slide against the wet metal, so I grasp on to a beam running above my head. Gripping tightly, I peer down at the water.

_It's not that far._

_You've got this._

_Just jump, get it over with, and then you can..._

_Can what? Go home to your family and tell them what happened? Yeah, you don't have a home or a family, you made sure of that. And now you have to live an endless amount of days feeling that emptiness that constantly fills you, day in and day out._

Suddenly, being up here doesn't seem as scary. No, the future is what is really scary. Knowing nothing is ever going to change. And it's all my fault.

All of this is.

So, letting out an exhale, I let go.

I let go of everything and fall.
9

# Raven

I hear someone shout something, but the words are stifled as I crash into the river, my body instantly locking up as I sink.

Holy shit, Jax was right. The coldness has taken my breath away. It also feels like a thousand needles are piercing my flesh. That pain is the easiest to handle, though. It's kind of like the pain that came when those words were carved into my flesh.

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Murderer._

I think my uncle may have enjoyed that punishment more than all the others he's given me.

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Murderer._

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Murderer._

_The girl who killed her parents._

And now I'm going to be the girl who killed her parents and paid for it when she sank to the bottom of a river and froze to death.

_This is going to be my tomb._

But as soon as my feet touch the bottom, my instincts kick in, and I try to swim to the surface. The chill of the water burns my muscles, winding them into knots and making them useless.

I start to sink again, darkness taking over. And I start to let it...

_Blood on my hands._

_"Hide, Raven," my mom begs. "Hide and don't come out. Do you understand?"_

_I frantically shake my head. "No. I can't leave you."_

_She grabs my shoulders and looks me in the eyes. "You have to. And you have to promise to forget what's about to happen. Promise me."_

_I shake my head again, tears burning my eyes. "No, I'm not going to. I'm staying with you. I'm not going to hurt—"_

Arms wrap around me, and then I'm being pulled upward, toward the sky. I'm dead, and I'm going upward. But that can't be right.

No, when I die, and if there is a Heaven and a Hell, I definitely won't be going upward.

_You've got it wrong._

_You're going the wrong way._

_I need to go back down—_

I gasp as I break the surface of the water then cough as the air burns my lungs.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Zay glares at me as he holds me in his arms, swimming us over to the shore, the water rushing around us.

I want to answer him, but I'm chattering too hard to form any coherent words.

He shakes his head, his muscles wound tight, water dripping from his soaked hair and onto his face. "Why the hell did you jump?"

I want to gape at his stupid question, but exhaustion is grasping ahold of me. My eyelids start to lower as water drips down my face.

"Don't you dare go to sleep," he growls as he drags me onto the shore.

My clothes are soaking wet, and I realize my jacket is no longer on my body.

"You wanted to be stubborn, so you keep it up," Zay says, leaning over me, his storm cloud eyes full of fire. "Do you understand?"

I give a feeble nod. Or, well, I think I do. My head feels so heavy.

"My jacket..." I mutter. "I need it..."

"Forget your fucking jacket," Zay snap, droplets of water dripping from his lips as snowflakes fall around him. "It's gone."

I start to cry. Well, I think I would, except my eyes are too frozen. "I need it... It's important to me..."

When he lets go of me, I peel my eyelids open and try to move, but my arms are useless lumps of frozen flesh. So instead, I slump into the dirt.

Zay shouts something, his words muffled, sounding so far away. I'm drifting into the cold with the snowflakes...

Hunter's gorgeous face appears over mine, his skin as pale as the snow. "Jesus," he whispers. "I can't believe you did that, little raven. Why...?" He crouches down beside me and rakes his fingers through his hair. "We need to get her somewhere warm."

Again, I don't understand why they're acting as if they had no part in me jumping.

Jax only adds to that confusion as he rushes down the hill, shouting, "We need to get her in the car and get her warmed up before hypothermia kicks in!" When he reaches us, he nudges Hunter out of the way and scoops me up into his arms.

A drop of warmth starts to seep into me as his body heat engulfs me, but the cold hastily takes over again.

_Numb._

_I feel numb._

_I feel nothing._

_Weightless._

_And it's kind of blissful_.

"Get the car running," he orders as he jogs up the muddy, snowy incline that leads to where the SUV is parked.

Hunter hurries ahead, running up the hill much quicker than Jax, but he's also not carrying my frozen ass. That doesn't explain where Zay is.

I try to peer around Jax and see what Zay is doing, but my body is useless. Giving up, I turn my head toward Jax's chest and close my eyes.

_He feels so warm..._

_And smells like snow..._

_Snow I could drift away with..._

_Drift away back to that peace I felt for a split second as I sank..._

"Raven, look at me." Jax's demanding tone yanks me out of my daze.

My eyes roll in my head as I try to do what he said.

Dizzy. Everything is spinning. But I'm starting to not feel cold anymore.

"Dammit, open your eyes," he orders with a trace of anger in his tone. "Or I'm going to pry them open."

I force my eyelids open, but only to glare at him.

"Don't look at me like that. You keep your damn eyes open or I'll do it for you. And it'll be a lot more painful if I do it." His expression is hard, his eyes as cold as that damn water.

I want to keep on glaring at him, but it's becoming extremely complicated the more numbed over my body gets.

My eyes roll into the back of my head again as my eyelids force their way closed.

"Dammit," he curses, quickening his pace. I'm not sure it's going to do any good. I'm fairly sure I'm dying. And while part of me is scared shitless over the idea, another part of me, a part I wasn't even aware existed, welcomes it.

_I deserve to die for what I did to them._

I continue fading in and out of consciousness until Jax sets me down. That startles me enough that I force my eyelids open to see where I am. I half-expect to be lying in the snow somewhere with them beside me, digging my grave. But I'm not. No, I'm lying on the back seat of the SUV, soaking wet and shivering. I can't see any of The Raven Three, so maybe they decided to set me in here while they dig my grave...

"Are there any blankets in the back?" Jax's voice floats from somewhere.

"Yeah, I keep a couple in there for..." Hunter trails off. "Well, I guess that doesn't matter right now."

Jax sighs. "Just go get them."

A beat of silence skips by, and my eyelids close.

"So, we're gonna just what? Wrap her in blankets?" Zay snaps harshly. "That's your brilliant fucking idea."

"No, we're going to take her clothes off first," Jax replies over the sound of banging. "You and Hunter can do that, while we drive back to the house. Then we'll figure things out from there."

_WTF? They're going to take my clothes off?_

"And what if this doesn't work?" Zay snaps. "What if she—"

"She's not," Jax insists, though a drop of worry resides in his tone. "God, this is a disaster. I should've just gone with my gut instinct and not let you follow through with your stupid plan. We don't need to be dealing with this shit right now. Not with everything else going on. We should be focusing on bigger, more important things."

"Yeah, well... I didn't think she'd jump," Zay bites back. Then he lowers his voice to a whisper. "Why do you think she did?"

"I have no idea," Jax mutters. "But I guess, now that this is happened, we might have to find out." He sounds less than pleased about that.

Again, it grows quiet, and panic manages to rise inside me, lacing with the cold.

They said they're going to take my clothes off? Are they going to rape me before they kill me?

_No, no, no!_

I try to flip over so I can crawl off the seat and out of the car. The door above my head is open, so all I need to do is get that far. Then I can tumble into the snow and... Well, I don't really know where I'll go from there. All I know is I've got to get out of here.

By some miracle, I get my body turned over. But as I'm dragging myself toward the edge of the seat, Zay steps up in front of the open door.

His hoodie is off, so I finally get a good look at him. His short, brown hair is covered in snowflakes, his eyes are somehow darker, and that scar I noticed earlier is way more prominent in the daylight.

As he stares at me silently with a hesitant expression, I start to slide back on the seat to try to climb out the other side. The movement seems to draw him out of his hesitancy and he moves, climbing into the back seat with me. Then he shuts the door and peels off his wet shirt.

I attempt to move, panic soaring through me. Holy hell, being frozen makes it really freakin' complicated to move, so I barely get anywhere before Zay grabs the sleeve of my plaid shirt.

"Easy," he says as he sits me up and pulls me toward him, even while I try to kick and hit him. My efforts are pathetic, and before I know it, I'm sitting right beside him. Or, well, leaning against him since I can't hold my body up very well.

He pauses, staring at me undecidedly. "You're gonna have to chill while I do this. Don't fight or it's going to complicate things."

Is he kidding me?

"N-no," I chatter.

He rolls his eyes then start tugging off my plaid shirt. I lift my hand and push against his chest, but he merely removes my hand and yanks the soaked fabric off me, tossing it into the back. Then he reaches for the hem of my shirt.

As a glimmer of strength blazes through me, I grip his hands. "S-stop," I chatter, my body shaking, either from the cold or the fear.

He rolls his eyes again. "Stop being a pain in the ass. I'm trying to help you." Then he tugs my shirt over my head and throws it back with my other shirt.

I hug my arms around myself, every muscle in my body quivering.

_Oh my God, this is really going to happen..._

Zay shifts his weight forward, reaching toward my feet, but then he pauses, his gaze locking on my side.

I know what he's looking at, and I hate it. Hate that he can see all the ugliness all over me. Hate that he can see me at all.

Blinking then shaking his head, he leans down and tugs off my boots. I move to kick him, but he easily swats away my lethargic attempts. Dizziness overtakes me again, and I slump back against the seat, my eyelids lowering as I veer toward passing out.

Zay works on peeling my tights off, and I try to kick him again, but my legs won't budge and he gets those off. Next, he moves toward my shorts. That's when I really begin to freak the hell out and that will I thought was lost ignites.

"Stop... Stop... Stop..." I tip to the side, digging my fingernails into the edge of the seat, pulling myself away from him and toward the door.

"Goddammit," Zay growls out. "Will you just hold still?"

I shake my head as I grab the door handle, but the door swings open on its own. Hunter appears on the other side with an armful of blankets, snowflakes falling around him. When he catches sight of me, he frowns, his gaze straying to Zay.

"Why don't you have her clothes off already?" he asks him. "You need to move more quickly, Zay. I mean, I know you have issues with this shit, but get over it."

"I'm trying to take off her clothes." Zay grabs ahold of my ankle. "She's not being very cooperative."

Hunter's gaze returns to me. "Little raven, you gotta relax and let us help you."

"Just hold her down," Zay tells him, "while I take off her shorts."

"No," I plead with Hunter.

He ignores me, setting the blankets down on the floor. Then he hops into the car and rolls me over, holding my arms. "Just relax." He stares down at me while skimming his thumb along the inside of my wrist.

I can barely feel the movement. Can barely feel Zay tugging my shorts down my legs. Can barely feel anything.

_Numb._

_I am numb._

_This isn't happening._

_I'm not going to feel it._

Somehow, through the sea of numbness consuming my body, tears force their way into the corners of my eyes.

Hunter's eyes soften, and then he lets go of one of my wrists to brush away a tear with the pad of his thumb. "Aw, don't cry. We're not going to let anything happened to you. You're one of us now."

His words barely register as he looks at Zay. "Are you sure you can handle this? It might be better if I do it."

"I... I can handle it."

"You don't sound so sure."

"Oh, shut the hell up... I'm fine." He doesn't sound fine, though. He sounds like he's freaking out. "And besides, I need to warm up, too." He sucks in an uneven breath. "Just give her to me. I can handle this."

"If you say so." Hunter sounds doubtful as he helps me sit up until I'm facing Zay. He's only wearing a pair of boxers now, and all I have on is my bra and underwear. But even the little scraps of clothing I have left give me no sense of security. Even worse, Jax has climbed into the driver's seat.

He cranks up the heat, flips on the windshield wipers, then casts a glance back at us. "Is everyone good?"

"Yep," Hunter answers, reaching down to pick up the blankets.

Jax drives forward then turns the vehicle around while Zay pulls me onto his lap. I try to fight, but I'm pretty sure my body has shut down.

Moments later, my chest is pressed against his, and his body heat seeps into my skin.

Warmth.

I thought I'd never feel it again.

Never thought I'd be this close to anyone ever again.

I've been so cold for the last handful of years.

It's been a long time since I've been touched, I realize this now, and I stupidly sink into it instead of pushing away.

_Weak. I'm so weak right now._

"Wrap the blankets around us," Zay mutters, slipping his arms around me and tucking my head beneath his chin, a move that confuses the hell out of me.

"Fuck, she's so cold." His muscles stiffen as he pulls me closer against him until my ear is resting against his chest right where his heart is beating. _Soaring_. So, so fast. He's either got a lot of adrenaline rushing through him or he's freaking the hell out.

What would scare him, though? He's the one who's scary...

Fabric touches my back and more warmth spills across me.

_Maybe he isn't going to hurt me..._

My eyelids lower as I breathe the feeling in, wanting to go to sleep.

"Just keep ahold of her until we get to the house," Jax says. "Then we'll figure out how to handle this."

"I was planning on it," Zay's heartbeat echoes in my ear. It sounds like the flutter of a hummingbird's wings, so fast, so panicky. "But she's really fucking cold."

"She'll be fine," Jax assures him. "We just need to get her to the house."

They grow quiet after that, and I start to let sleepiness grab ahold of me.

"She jumped," Zay suddenly mumbles, skimming his fingers up and down my spine. "I can't believe she did it... I didn't think she would... If I had..."

"I know," Jax says. "I didn't think she would either. No one ever has. Well, except for us."

"But, even we didn't do it during the brink of winter," Hunter points out. "She made us look like pussies."

"Yeah, I guess she did." I can't tell which one of them says this, their voices starting to blur together as exhaustion cocoons me.

"You know what this means, right?" one of them says.

Another skip of silence and then...

"Yeah, The Raven Three have just become The Raven Four."
10

# Raven

_Warm blood covers my hands as I stare down at my parents. Blood is all over them, covering their clothes, their hair._

Why is there so much blood? And why is it all over my hands?

_"Mom," I whisper as I collapse to my knees._

_I can't remember how I got here. Can't remember where the blood came from. All I can remember is the screaming. So much screaming._

_"Raven! No!" my mom shouts a plea. "Please don't do this, sweetie. You don't want to do this. Just go. Run!"_

But I can't go. Not until I get to her.

_"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm sorry I can't forget."_

_She screams—_

My eyelids flutter open as I leave the hazy memory and return to... well, I'm not really sure where I am. From what I can tell, I'm in a large bed with lots of pillows and blankets around me.

Blinking, I peer around, my confusion deepening. The bedroom, if that's even what it is, looks almost as big as my house. It has a gothic ambiance with black walls, matching trimming, and a giant fireplace with a fire currently crackling in it. The ceiling is domed and painted a midnight blue with a thorny chandelier dangling from it. And the bed I'm in has four massive, ebony posts and is enclosed by black curtains.

"Is this Hell?" I mutter as I slowly sit up.

Everything is so dark, like I imagine Hell would be. But if I am in Hell, then that means I'm dead.

I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat against my hand.

So I'm alive. I'm also wearing someone else's shirt, and my body feels like it was run over by truck. Or like it slammed into a freezing cold river...

As memories of what happened gradually surface, I throw the blankets off me. Then I frown. My legs aren't covered up by anything.

"Crap," I breathe out, recalling how Hunter held me down while Zay tugged down my shorts. But then he had hugged me against his chest, which was confusing. After that, things become hazy and that sends a trickle of fear through me. The last time I blacked out...

_Blood on my hands._

_Murderer._

Scooting to the edge of the bed, I lower my feet to the floor, wanting to get up and get the hell out of here... wherever _here_ is.

When I stand up, my legs wobble, but I put one leg in front of the other and gradually stumble over to the dresser. Then I open the drawers, hoping to find some pants. But all that's inside are knives and a bunch of other weapons.

_I need to get out of here._

Abandoning my plan to get some pants, I shuffle toward the door, where I pause for a second, listening for any sounds coming from the other side. When only silence graces my ears, I twist the knob, open the door, and step out...

Into the longest and widest hallway I've ever seen.

I glance left then right, both directions seeming endless. No windows are around either, so the only light is flowing from antique lanterns hanging up on the walls.

Great. How in the hell am I supposed to find my way out of here?

"Come on, Raven; think of a way to get out of this." I pinch the brim of my nose as my head pounds.

I really need a painkiller.

What I need is a map of this house. Or my phone. But Jax threw that out the window, something my aunt is going to yell at me for. That is, if I ever get out of here.

No, I'm going to. I've made it through jumping off a bridge. Getting out of a house should be a piece of cake.

I take a deep breath then start down the right side of the hallway. Every one of my muscles screams in protest, but I force myself to keep going, to find my way out of here...

"Shit," I mutter as I reach the end of the hallway that opens up into a very spacious room filled with leather couches, a pool table, a fireplace, and the biggest flat screen TV I've ever seen.

I glance around for another exit but can't find one, so I start to turn around to head back in the direction I came from. Then I freeze when I hear voices floating from somewhere.

"Dude, I'm really getting tired of this crap."

I tense at the sight of Hunter, Jax, and Zay wandering down the hallway toward me. Hunter is looking at Jax, who's staring at his phone, and Zay is glancing over his shoulder in the opposite direction, so I see them before they see me.

As images of what happened earlier flash through my mind, I duck to the side before they can spot me. Then I frantically look around, searching for some sort of hidden way out. I spot a door in the far back corner, tucked away near a bookshelf. I'm unsure what's on the other side but decide it's got to be better than dealing with these a-holes again. I hurry over to it and duck inside.

Relief washes over me. _It's just a closet._

Quickly closing the door, I sink to the floor and rest back against the wall, figuring I'll wait it out until they leave. Then I'll make my escape.

"We only have to deal with it for a little bit longer." Jax sounds close enough that I assume they've entered the room.

"I know, but..." Hunter sighs. "I just want to be on our own finally, you know?"

"I know. And I do, too," Jax agrees. "But in order for us to get our freedom, we have to finish out our agreement with my father."

"I know, I know," Hunter mumbles. "Your dad really sucks."

"Yeah, he does. But he's also helped us out a lot," Jax reminds him. "And when this is all over, we're going to come out on top."

"If we survive that long," Hunter continues to gripe.

"We will," Jax says with certainty.

A weighted sigh then Hunter says, "You're being really quiet, Zay. And you seemed distracted earlier... Where's your head at, man?"

"I'm not distracted," Zay insists. "You just haven't stopped talking for the last hour. Or, well, stopped bitching."

"Dude, I don't bitch." Amusement glitters in Hunter's tone. "I vent."

"Bitchy vent," Zay throws back at him.

Hunter chuckles. "All right, maybe I do bitch sometimes."

Silence settles, and I begin to wonder if they left. But then Jax says, "Someone should go check on our caged raven and make sure she hasn't woken up yet."

The muscles in my jaw tick. _Caged raven? Like I'm their pet?_

"I'll do it," Hunter eagerly volunteers.

"Yeah, I'm thinking with how eager you just sounded that Zay better do it," Jax tells him.

"What the heck, Jax?" Hunter sounds sulky. "Why're you so worried about me being around her?"

"At first, I wasn't. You do what you do and we've always been fine with that," Jax replies over the clanking of what sounds like pool balls being racked. "But if she's going to be one of us, we're going to have to set some rules, especially for you, before I can allow you to get close to her or else things could get complicated fast."

"Allow me to get close to her?" Hunter scoffs. "Newsflash, Jax: you may act like our babysitter, but you're not the boss of us. If I want to get close to our little raven, then I will. And I'm sure Zay agrees with me."

_Our_ raven?

_Oh, hell no._

"I think I agree with Jax on this one," Zay says. "If she's gonna be a part of our group, it might be good to set some rules with her."

"Seriously?" Hunter questions in bewilderment. " _You_ want to set rules?"

"With this, I think it might be a good idea," Jax says with indifference. "She's... Well, she seems wild and—"

"Interesting. Gorgeous as hell," Hunter offers.

"Yeah... maybe." Zay pauses. "I think she's got some deep issues, which could lead to an entire set of other problems... Did you see those scars on her side?"

"Yeah," Hunter says softly. "Who do you think did that to her?"

I hug my knees against my chest, breathing in and out through my nose. I forgot they saw my scars, saw the third worst moment of my life carved on my flesh.

"I don't know," Zay replies. "Maybe she put them on herself."

"I kind of doubt it," Hunter disagrees. "Do you know how painful that'd be...? How much pain you'd have to be in to do that?"

"She jumped off the bridge," Zay stresses. "She clearly doesn't give a shit about pain... or herself."

I'm not a fan of how closely they're assessing me, or how close they are to the truth.

"What scars?" Jax asks.

"They're all over her side," Hunter explains. "They look like someone carved words into her flesh with a knife."

" _Freak, loser, murderer_ ," Zay mutters. "That's the three I managed to read. There might be more, though."

My fingers travel toward my scarred side. There are six in total. They apparently didn't see the bottom three that are close to my hip.

Silence stretches between them until Jax finally breaks it. "Yeah, we really need to set some rules with her."

Why me having scars on my body makes him more certain of this decision is beyond me. But it doesn't really matter, because there's not going to be any rules. Because I'm not going to join their little gang. I'm not even sure why they want me to when they made it pretty clear they don't like me.

"I'll go check on her and make sure she's asleep," Jax announces. "Get the game started while I do that."

"Sure thing, boss," Hunter jokes, the amusement returning to his voice.

I assume Jax leaves then to go check on me. I wonder what he'll do when he realizes I'm gone. Panic? Be relieved? Get pissed off?

"So, what do you really think about our little bird?" Hunter asks and the name sears at something inside me.

_"Little bird, come here," the doctor whispers as the door to my padded room shuts..._

I blink sharply from the memory, unsure of where it even came from.

_Forget_.

_Why am I always forgetting?_

"I think you need to stop calling her ours," Zay replies over the clinking of pool balls crashing together.

"Would you rather I call her yours?" Hunter questions.

"Shut the fuck up," Zay snaps. "That's not what I meant, so stop implying shit. That girl means nothing to me."

"That's total bullshit, or else you wouldn't have jumped into the river to save her," Hunter quips. "I've known you for most of my life, so I know you don't do shit like that for people."

"She would've died if I hadn't," Zay grumbles. "I didn't do it because I want her to become our fourth member in this twisted fucking group of ours. Or become mine."

"Again, I call bullshit. You didn't even hesitate when she jumped. You just ran and jumped into that freezing cold water."

"Yeah, well, you screamed like a little bitch."

"Um, yeah, because I didn't think she'd jump. She's crazy. But I like crazy."

"That's because you are crazy," Zay says, and I can practically hear the eye roll through his tone.

"Then that'd make you a straight-up psychopath," Hunter retorts.

"Probably." Zay gives a short pause. "She called me that. Raven, I mean."

"I know," Hunter says. "They say great minds think alike or some shit like that."

The balls clank again.

"Why do you think she didn't try to swim out of the water?" Zay asks. "I mean, do you think...?"

"I'm not sure." Concern fills Hunter's tone. "She did tell us she couldn't swim. Maybe she wasn't lying."

"But, why would she choose to jump if she couldn't swim?" Zay points out. "Why not pick the other option we gave her?"

"To piss you off? To be stubborn?" Hunter suggests. "Or maybe she's a virgin like you guessed." Amusement seeps into his tone. "Can you imagine if she is? A virgin in our circle? That'd be... interesting."

"More like trouble," Zay says. "And if she is, you definitely need to stay away from her—"

"We have a huge problem," Jax announces, cutting off their conversation. "Our caged bird is gone."

"Wait... What?" Hunter stammers. "How?"

"She must've walked out of the room while we were in the kitchen," Jax tells him. "But the alarms haven't gone off, so she hasn't left the house."

_Alarms?_ Suddenly my plan just to take off is feeling out of reach.

"Did you check the security cameras?" Zay asks over the sound of a soft bang.

_Security cameras? Shit._

"I'm working on it," Jax says. "I'm still waiting for the system to load up on my phone."

I cross my fingers that maybe his system won't load.

"Wait... Okay, it's on," Jax mumbles, squashing my hope.

Silence briefly stretches amongst them.

"Wait. Go back to that other one," Hunter mutters. "Look right there." Another gap of silence and then, "And so we've been overheard."

_And so I've been caught._

I push to my feet then feel around the closet, searching for some sort of weapon. But the only items in here are coats hanging up on plastic hangers. Why do they have to be plastic? Why can't they be like those old-school wire ones my parents had? Better yet, why didn't I steal one of those knives from that dresser drawer?

_I need to get my head in the game if I'm going to get out of here._

_I need to leave the closet and try to run._

_Fight until the end._

I wrap my fingers around the doorknob and start counting down from three—

The door swings open, and I step back, tugging on the hem of my shirt as Jax appears in the doorway.

He's wearing a different outfit than he had on earlier; sporting a black, short-sleeved button-down shirt, dark jeans, and boots. Suspenders dangle from his belt loop and wisps of his dark hair hang in his eyes. Eyes that are sweeping up and down my body. Apparently, unlike Hunter, Jax isn't too thrilled by my looks, a frown forming at his lips.

"Why the hell are you hiding in here?" He's looking at me just as coldly as he did when he carried me to the SUV while I was freezing to death.

Crossing my arms, I carry his icy gaze. "I wasn't hiding. I was trying to find my way out of here."

He cocks a brow. "You do realize this is a closet and not a front door, right?"

"Really?" My tone oozes sarcasm. "I just figured the outside shrank to the size of a closet and that it was nighttime. Stupid me."

A series of emotions flicker across his expression, ranging from surprise to irritation.

Good. Let him be irritated. The feeling is mutual.

"And since I'm clearly so stupid," I continue, "maybe you can show me where the front door is so I can get out of your hair? Does that sound like an awesome idea?" I try to sound enticing, although I'm not very confident it works.

A crease forms between his brows, and his lips part to say who knows what. I never do get to find out, since Hunter nudges him out of the way and steps into the doorway.

He's wearing a different outfit, too; black pants with a lot of pockets, a grey shirt with stitching on the sleeves, and a vest decorated with chains.

Like with Jax, he deliberately looks me over; but unlike Jax, a grin plays at the corners of his mouth. "There's our little raven. For a minute, we thought you tried to fly away and we were gonna have to hunt you down."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Stop calling me little raven and yours. And while I'm at it, stop using creepy bird analogies."

Hunter grins. "No way. Your name makes it way too easily. And now that you're one of us, you're like a double raven."

"Jesus, Hunter, how do you come up with this shit?" Zay grumbles from somewhere.

I can't see him, but the sound of his voice does weird things to my stomach as I recall him pressing his bare chest against mine...

Warmth.

Connection.

Touch.

I'd forgotten what that felt like.

Hunter's gaze remains locked on mine as he says to Zay, "Aw, brother, don't be jealous of my awesomeness."

Zay laughs dryly. "Awesome's not the word I'd ever use when referring to your lame-ass lines."

Hunter's eyes glint with hilarity. "Charming?"

"Try annoying and full of himself," Zay throws back, his tone laced with annoyance.

"All right, that's enough." Jax pushes Hunter out of the way and reaches for me.

I skitter back. "Don't touch me."

He freezes then lowers his hand. "I'm not gonna fucking hurt you."

I shake my head and step back, crossing my arms. "Why the hell should I believe you? You forced me to jump into a freezing river, and I almost died because of it."

"Don't be overdramatic. You didn't almost die. You got a mild case of hypothermia. And we didn't make you jump," Jax says so matter-of-factly.

"You didn't give me any other choice," I point out. "It was either jump or end up like those other guys you hauled out to that bridge. And from what Zay said, I'm betting their frozen corpses are beneath that frozen ground surrounding that river."

He gives me a tolerant look as he braces his hands on the doorframe. "Actually, we did give you another choice. You just didn't want to take it."

I glare at him. "That's because freezing to death sounded way better than being your whore."

"Sounded. As in the past tense?" he questions, his brow arching. When I make no effort to respond, he thrums his fingers against the doorframe. "Well, regardless of what you didn't or did want to be, now you're one of us, so..." He shrugs, lowering his hands to his sides.

"Yeah, no thanks," I mutter.

"No thanks?" Jax looks livid. "You should be a bit more grateful about this."

"Why? Because you guys are so awesome?" I question. "You basically kidnapped me today and threatened my life, so why the hell would I want to be friends with you?"

"We're not offering our friendship." Zay steps up behind Jax.

Like Hunter and Jax, he's wearing nicer clothes than he was earlier; wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a red tie hanging loosely around his neck. It's the first time I've gotten a real look at his face without his features being shadowed by a hoodie. Well, besides when he pulled me out of the river and presses his body against mine, but I was really out of it then. I realize that he's even more gorgeous than I thought. And scary. And intense.

Dangerously gorgeous is probably the best word to describe him.

"We're offering you protection," Zay explains, seeming oblivious to my subtle inspection of him. "Something I'm guessing you need since you're crazy enough to jump off a bridge. And I'm sure that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble around here. You're gonna need someone to have your back."

I growl out in frustration, "I had to jump off the bridge. It was either that, get murdered, or be your whore. The bridge seemed like the best option."

Zay shakes his head and rolls his eyes. "Not every threat means something, princess."

Hunter and Jax give him a curious look for who the hell knows what reason, but Zay doesn't even so much as a glance in their direction.

"Not in my world," I tell him. As the words slip from my lips, I tuck my arms against my side as my scars throb. "And don't call me princess. I'm far from being one."

Zay's gaze drops to my side, then he looks up at me, his eyes burrowing into mine. "Where'd those scars come from?"

I smash my lips together. _Nope. I'm not talking about this._

Zay narrows his eyes. "You have to answer me. It's part of our rules."

I shake my head. "I don't have to follow your rules, because I'm not part of your stupid circle."

Zay's nostrils flare. "God, you're the most frustrating person I've ever met."

"The feeling is mutual," I retort, equally as irritated.

Zay glowers at me. "You better be careful, _princess_ , or that mouth of yours is going to end up around—"

"Okay." Hunter pushes Zay out of the way. "I think you need a timeout."

Zay's glare snaps in Hunter's direction, his chest heaving as he breathes raggedly. "Don't fucking tell me what to do."

Hunter gives him a pressing look as he puts a hand on his shoulder. "You need to chill out before you say something you'll regret."

Zay grinds his teeth. "Whatever." He glances at me one final time, our gazes colliding.

Intensity blazes from his eyes and my pulse accelerates, but I refuse to look away.

Finally, he tears his eyes off of me, and reels around, storming out of the room.

Jax starts after him. "I'll go check on him this time," he tells Hunter. "You rationalize some sense into her."

Rationalize some sense into _me_?

Anger trickles through me, but fizzles a bit when Hunter smiles at me.

"So, I was wrong about October eighth being the start of our friendship. I guess I'm not a psychic after all." He grins. "Not that I care. I'm kind of glad I was wrong if it means we get to start being friends sooner."

"Friends?" I question. "I thought the circle was for protection and nothing more."

"Its main purpose is for protection. The friendship part is just an added bonus." He winks at me. "Especially when it comes to you."

I roll my eyes. "I already told you that you and I aren't gonna be friends. And that was before you guys did all that shit to me earlier... How much time has gone by since I passed out?"

"Only a couple of hours." He offers his hand to me, not trying to grab me, which I'm thankful for. "Come sit by me for a while. There're some things I need to explain to you."

I want to protest, want to yell at him to let me leave, but I have a feeling he won't help me out of this mansion until I at least hear him out.

I cross my arms. "Fine. But I'm not taking your hand."

He juts his lip out. "Well, that's not very fun."

"Holding my hand isn't very fun," I insist. "I suffer from clammy hand syndrome."

Curiosity sparkles in his eyes. "Is that really a thing or are you telling me bullshit because you think I have cootie?"

I lift a shoulder, struggling not to smile, which is so annoying. I shouldn't find him amusing. Not after what happened.

_I really am crazy._

Grinning, he steps back and motions for me to step out. "Okay, fine. We can pretend I have cooties for now. But eventually, I'll prove to you that I'm as clean as a whistle."

"Whistles aren't clean." I inch out of the closet and peer around the room, at the hardwood floors and at all the artwork covering the walls.

I'd been in such a rush before I dove into the closet that I hadn't even noticed the artwork. One in particular draws me in; a painting of what can only be described as a shadow girl hiding in a forest. I can't see her face, but I can almost feel her pain flowing off the canvas.

"You like art?" Hunter asks as he watches me closely.

I shrug, looking away from the painting. "I don't really know much about it, but the stuff on your wall seems cool. Or, well, maybe cool's not the right word..." I waver. "Maybe hauntingly sad and dark."

A pleased grin tugs at his lips. "I'll take that as a 'you like my work.' "

My lips part in shock. "You painted these?"

He nods, stepping toward me and stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Which one's your favorite?"

My gaze magnetizes back to the shadow girl. "I don't know... Maybe that one." I rub my lips together, highly aware of him studying me as closely as I'm studying his painting. "She looks sad. I can almost feel it."

I turn my attention back to him, only to find him staring at me sympathetically.

"Maybe it's because you're sad and you see some of yourself in the girl." He starts to reach for my hand then withdraws, crossing his arms and tucking his hands underneath his armpits. Then his expression turns serious. "Why'd you jump? And please don't say it was because we made you. Sure, we may have made it seem like you had to, but with how feisty you are, we thought you'd try to run. And we were going to let you do that."

I frown. "Then what was the point of any of it?"

He shrugs. "What Jax said was true. We need people to respect us around here, and to gain that respect, we took the route of instilling fear in people. It almost always works. Almost every time we've hauled someone to that bridge and threatened them, they've nearly pissed themselves and ran away. And they fear us after that. But that _almost always_ used to be an _always_... until you." He unfolds his arms then hesitantly tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Why did you jump when you can't swim? At least, that's why I'm assuming you didn't swim out of the river yourself."

I lean away from his touch and wrap my arms around myself. He frowns at my offish move but doesn't comment.

"I tried to tell you guys that I couldn't swim," I mutter.

"I know, and I'm sorry we didn't listen." He offers me an apologetic smile. "But in our defense, that's the most common excuse we've heard."

"Well, it wasn't an excuse."

"Clearly." He pauses, eyeing me closely. "How are you feeling anyway? You don't feel sick or anything, do you?"

I shake my head. "I feel a little tired and irritated with you guys, but other than that, I feel okay."

"Good. I'm glad you're okay. And I'm glad that whole shared body heat thing wasn't a myth."

"Shared body heat...?"

"That thing Zay did to you in the back seat," he explains with a pucker between his brows. "What did you think he was doing?"

I lift a shoulder. "Honestly, I thought he was going to rape me."

His eyes widen. " _What?_ "

I shrug again. "He was yanking off my clothes after he threatened me and proposed I could be you guys' whore. What else was I supposed to think?"

His expression plummets. "We may be a lot of things, little raven, but we have and never will rape anyone. That's not who we are."

"Then who are you?" I wonder, really curious to know the answer.

He smiles and tugs on a strand of my hair. "And that's what I'm trying to explain to you." Then he grabs my hand and tows me toward a leather couch.

Deep down, I feel like I should pull away from him, but honestly, I'm really tired of fighting.

_Just give up._

I kind of did today when I jumped. For a moment, I had let myself sink to the bottom of that river, and I would've stayed there if Zay hadn't jumped in and pulled me out.

"Why did Zay jump in and save me?" I ask as he plops down on the sofa and pulls me down with him.

"Well, for starters, we didn't want you to drown. And Zay's the best swimmer. Plus, he reacted quicker than Jax and I." He slips his arm around my shoulders. "Also, the moment you jumped off that bridge, you became one of us."

"You keep saying that, but I still don't understand why. Honestly, I don't really understand what you are. I mean, I know you're called The Raven Three and that you're like super powerful or something because you're scary. I know your dad works for Jax's, who's also Zay's uncle and that you're all like super rich. I was also warned that I should stay away from you. And to not piss you off."

His lips quirk. "Clearly, that was advice you didn't take."

I roll my eyes. "That wasn't by choice."

His brow curves upward. "So, you're saying that, if we hadn't cornered you in the school, you would've just backed off and ignored us? Even if Zay told you to get out of his seat again?" When I hesitate, he grins. "Face it, little raven, you're a feisty little shit, and if we kept crossing paths, you would've mouthed off until we tried to teach you a lesson."

"Maybe," I admit. "But in my defense, you're not the first people that have come after me because I smarted off one too many times."

"I already assumed that." His gaze strays to my side, making me too aware that I'm wearing nothing but a shirt and my underwear. "Did those scars get put on you because you smarted off one too many times?"

"Honestly, it was a combination of a lot of things." I huff out an exasperated breath. "Look, I really don't want to talk about my scars, so why don't you tell me why me jumping off this bridge now makes me the fourth member or your... whatever the heck you guys are."

He glances one more time at my scarred side then focuses on me. "Jumping off that bridge is an initiation into our circle, which we now have to retitle The Raven Four."

"So, you, Zay, and Jax all jumped off that bridge so you could be part of a group ran by yourself?" I ask dubiously.

He lifts a shoulder, giving a half-shrug. "It was a long time ago when we did it. And really, it kind of started out as a dare that we ended up turning into an initiation. Although, none of us jumped into that water when it was as cold as it was today." He combs his fingers through my hair and smiles. "You little show off."

"I'm not a show off," I promise. "And how has no one else done it before? I mean, I know I'm a bit crazy, but I'm not an anomaly like you all say I am."

"Um, yeah, you sort of are," he insists, rotating on the sofa until his leg is pressed against mine. "We gave at least ten guys the opportunity to do what you did today and none of them ever did it."

"Maybe I was just too stupid to realize I was going to get hypothermia?" I suggest, trying to get him to stop looking at me like he is now.

Like I'm completely fascinating.

"No, you knew what you were getting into. I could see it in your eyes. It just looked like maybe you didn't care all that much about what happened to you." He searches my eyes. "Is that what it was?"

I remain indifferent so he won't be able to see the lie. "Nah, I'm just a thrill seeker."

His frown deepens. "Fine, I won't press you for the truth. _Yet_." He sits up straight, removing his arm from my shoulders and plastering on a smile. "But whatever the reason you did it, you are now officially one of us."

"And what if I keep refusing to be part of your circle?" I ask. "What will you do to me?"

"Nothing. And you want to know why? Because you're not going to refuse." He laces his fingers through mine and stands up, pulling me up with him. "Not after you hear the benefits." He pauses, as if waiting for something, then his head bobs back as he lets out a frustrated groan. "Oh, come on, you've got to give me something other than silence."

"Okay... But I'm not sure what you want from me."

He groans again then looks at me, wetting his lips with his tongue. "Do me a favor and try not to say stuff like that to me, okay? Jax is gonna make up these stupid rules that won't let me answer that kind of question truthfully. At least not with you."

Catching on to what he's saying, I nod. "I'll never ask it again."

"Don't say never, little raven." He grins impishly.

"Good God," I groan. "Stop calling me that."

"But it's so fitting." The corners of my lips twitch as I narrow my eyes at him. "Oh come on. Stop giving me that look. Deep down, you know you're meant to be one of us. Not just because you're crazy as hell, but because of your name. I mean, it's like fate brought you to us or something."

"Yeah, I don't agree with you." I pause, wondering something. "Why did you guys end up calling yourselves The Raven Four?"

His eyes sparkle mischievously. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, but you can't tell Zay, okay?" He waits for me to nod, then leans in. "When Zay was little, he was really into birds. He would make Jax and I go bird watching with him for like hours every day. It was the most boring thing I've ever done, but I did it for him because while Zay and I aren't technically blood related, he's my brother in every way that counts."

"So you named your group The Raven Three because Zay was really into birds?" That's really the entire story?

"Not completely." He hesitates. "Zay actually used to have a pet raven."

"Is that even legal?"

Hunter gives me a _really_ look. "Does Zay seem like the kind of guy that'd care if it wasn't?"

"Good point."

He offers me a small smile, but then it fades. "But anyway, Zay had this raven that he called Raven."

"No way," I say. "You're messing with me."

He looks at me in all seriousness. "I swear I'm not. He named it Raven because his dad told him that giving something a name, or nickname, made them more important to you, and that made you weak, so Zay rarely uses people's names, or gives people nicknames. And his dad used to—and still does—refer to Zay as Kid. It's really messed up... But that's kind of the story of all our lives... But anyway..." He clears his throat, looking a way for a second before glancing back at me. "To make a long story short, Zay's dad killed his raven on the same day we created our group. Zay was upset, but he wouldn't admit it. So to honor the bird, we decided to name our group after it."

So many questions fill up my mind, like why did Zay's dad kill the raven? And why is Zay calling me princess if he doesn't give nicknames?

"That's really messed up." My heart hurts a little for Zay. "I mean, that his dad killed his bird."

He offers me a sad smile. "Messed up is what we are, little raven. And I think, deep down, you're just as messed up as us."

I want to argue, even though it might be a lie, but then some old clock chimes off the time, making me aware of how late it is.

Crap. I can't even text my aunt to let her know where I am. Not that she'll be worried. No, she'll be irritated that I wasn't home in time to clean the house, something she makes me do whenever I misbehave like I did this morning... So, yeah, I clean the house a lot.

"I need to get home, like, soon, especially since someone threw my phone out the window." I narrow my eyes at him, but it's kind of a playful move.

I'm not sure why I can't be mad at him. He's just too smiley and it's kind of contagious.

"Hey, I didn't toss out your phone," he protests with exaggerated offense. "That was all Jax."

"Yeah? So? I still don't have a phone."

Worry creases his face. "Are your aunt and uncle gonna freak out on you for being out so late?"

I chew on my bottom lip. "They might freak out, but not over that."

His brows knit. "What'll be over?"

I sigh heavily. "This morning, I may have called my aunt a skank after she told me I was an idiot or something like that. I honestly have a hard time remembering our little bitch-fests. They're such a common occurrence."

"So, your aunt's a bitch then?" he muses, scrubbing his hand across his jawline.

I nod. "Basically."

He bobs his head up and down understandingly. "My mom's a prick, so I get you."

"A bitch and a prick," I muse. "Maybe they should be friends."

He smiles brightly. "Nah, I wanna be your friend."

"What are we? Like in middle school or something?" Strangely enough, the last time I actually had a friend was in middle school, right before my parents died.

"Oh, totally," he says in an off-pitch falsetto tone. "You got those friendship bracelets I told you to make or what?"

"You only told me that hours ago, so there's no way I could've possibly made them yet," I point out, the corners of my lips twitching. "But I'll put it on my to-do list."

He playfully narrows his eyes. "You better."

A quiet laugh escapes me, a foreign sound and one I never expected to hear after what happened on the bridge. I didn't expect to hear anything other than the silence of death.

"What's so funny?" Jax enters the room with an irritated-looking Zay trailing behind him.

At the sight of him, my thoughts drift to the story of the raven that Hunter told me, and for the slightest instant, I feel pity for Zay. Yeah, he's intense and bossy, but no one deserves for their parent to kill their pet. And to refer to them as "Kid"... Even my aunt and uncle call me by my name.

Then again, my uncle has given me cruel nicknames that he's carved on my side, so...

_I really miss my parents. God, do I._

"Me, obviously." Hunter flashes him a grin from over his shoulder and snapping me out my thoughts.

Jax stops near the end of the pool table, his gaze gliding from me to Hunter, then his pierced brow meticulously curves upward. "Soon, we're going to sit down and talk about all of our new rules. But I'm throwing one out here right now." He gives a stern glance at everyone. "Everyone is to remain just friends. Do you all understand?"

Is he being serious right now?

Apparently, Hunter thinks so, because he gripes, "Dude, you're ruining the potential."

Jax fastens his firm gaze on him. "There's no potential other than drama."

"Whatever," Hunter grumbles, totally sulking.

Jax looks at Zay. "What about you? You got any complaints about my rule?"

Zay's gaze flits to me, and for a flash of a second, he looks hesitant. But then he shakes his head. "Nope."

"I hope really hope so, but there's a couple of things that have me concerned. We'll talk about that later, though," Jax tells him, and Zay blasts him with a dirty look. But Jax ignores him and twists to face me. "What about you?"

I shrug. "I don't even think of us as friends, so..." I shrug again.

Hunter rolls his eyes while Zay stares at me with his arms crossed, his gaze boring into me.

Jax reclines against the pool table with his arms folded across his chest. "I'll accept that answer for now. But there's some other stuff we need to talk you about right now."

I shake my head. "No, I need to go home before I get in even more trouble than I'm sure I already am."

"We'll make sure you don't get in trouble," Hunter offers with a devious grin then cracks his knuckles. "Just tell us who we have to scare? Your crazy aunt?"

A trace of a smile pulls at my lips as I imagine the look on my aunt's face if these guys showed up and threatened her. But then my uncle might get involved and...

My smile goes _poof_.

"That's probably not a good idea."

"Why not?" Hunter asks with his head tilted to the side.

I shrug. "Because my uncle's the sheriff."

Hunter stifles a grin as he flicks a glance at Zay, who bizarrely is as equally amused.

"Did you hear that, Zay?" Hunter asks. "She thinks we should be afraid of her uncle 'cause he's the sheriff."

Zay picks up a pool stick and rests his weight against it. "I did hear that." His gaze fastens on me, the corners of his lips spasming. "Maybe you're right, Hunter. She is amusing." But he says it like it's not a good thing.

"And you're kind of moody," I retort. "Seriously, you're like the most hot and cold person I've ever met."

He lifts a shoulder and gives a lazy shrug. "I've been called a lot worse."

"I'm sure you have," I reply haughtily.

Zay mutters something with a shake of his head.

Jax straightens his stance and crosses the room, stopping in front of me. "We can take you home, but after we have a little chat." My lips part to reiterate my earlier concern, but he puts his finger against my lips. "That's not up for negotiation." He lowers his hand from my lips then crosses his arms. "If you want us to, we can talk to your aunt and uncle about you being late. Or we can help you make up some bullshit story. I really don't care, but we're talking to you before you leave." With that, he turns around and strides toward the doorway. "I have to go reset the alarms." Then he exits the room.

I raise my brows at Hunter. "Is he always so bossy?"

Hunter chuckles. "That's actually pretty mild compared to how he can be."

I crinkle my nose. "I'm not sure I can do that bossy. Maybe he should take that into consideration before he tries to force me into you guys' circle. It seems like we're gonna clash."

Hunter moves beside me and drapes his arm over my shoulders. "Actually, little raven, I think you might fit in perfectly with us."

"I completely disagree. Jax is way too bossy for me. And you"—I point at Zay—"are pretty bossy, too, but you give in pretty easily, so it's not as intense as Jax."

Zay's brows dart upward. "That's... What...?" He shakes his head. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

"You're just irritated 'cause you know I'm right," I reply in a semi-teasing tone. "You may get mad, but from what I've seen, you like to storm out and have a temper tantrum instead of confronting the problem."

His brows lower as his shock erases. Then he sets the pool stick down and ambles toward me with his hands stuffed into the back pockets of his pants. "I assure you that I'm just as scary as Jax. In fact, most people—the smart ones—think I'm scarier." When he reaches me, he crosses his arms and stares me down intimidatingly. "And I may not confront the problem right away, but only because I like to plot out what I'm going to do. That way, I can make sure the punishment is nice and cruel." His lips twist into a smirk. "Just the way I like it."

"I have no doubt that you do," I tell him. "All I'm sayin' is that you don't seem as bossy or as intense as Jax."

When his face twists with repulsion, Hunter chuckles, drawing me closer to his side.

Maybe I should step away from him, but... I don't know, his arm around me feels nice. Foreign but... nice. "This is going to be amusing to watch," he remarks.

Zay scowls at him. "You think it's funny that she's pissing me off?"

Hunter shakes his head. "Nah, she's not pissing you off. She's frustrating you because you're not used to people being so blunt when they're around you." When Zay's eyes scorch with annoyance, Hunter stage-whispers to me, "I think one of those temper tantrums you mentioned is coming."

Zay glares daggers at Hunter. "If you don't knock it off, I'm gonna start plotting against you."

"Oh, come on, Zay, you know we're just messing with you. And I think, deep down, you kind of like it. And I know you're not going to do anything to me or to her." Hunter rests his cheek against mine. "I mean, look how cute we are. Would you really want to do anything that'd mess up these pretty faces?" Then he whispers to me, "Hurry and bat your eyelashes at him. He's a sucker for that shit, whether he'll admit it or not. Although, most girls don't have the balls to do it to him."

Not totally believing him—Zay doesn't seem like the kind of guy who'd go for the whole batting eyelashes thing—I still do what he instructs anyway, fluttering my eyelashes at Zay.

"Now stick out your lip and say please, please don't mess up my pretty face," Hunter whispers, his breath dusting my cheek.

I give an eye roll but do what he says. I'm not even sure why, other than it's been a long time since I've been this entertained. The circumstances are a bit weird, though, after what happened.

"Please, please don't mess up my pretty face," I say to Zay with my bottom lip jutted out.

Zay shakes his head then sighs. "I'm not going to mess up your pretty face, so stop pouting." He fixes a firm look on Hunter. "You need to lay off this, though."

"Lay off what?" Hunter bats his eyelashes innocently, and I giggle.

Zay sears him with an insinuating look. "You know what."

"Oh, don't give me that look." Hunter carries his gaze. "You're acting just as bad as I am."

Zay rolls his eyes. "Fuck off. I am not."

"Um, yeah you are," Hunter insists. "The only difference is I always act this way. You never do, so the question is: why?"

Zay's eyes shadow over as he glares at Hunter. "You better shut it, brother. You're crossing a line with this, and that's the only warning I'm going to give you."

Hunter releases a dramatic sigh then removes his arm from my shoulders and holds up his hands in front of him. "Fine, I'll chill." His lips quirk. "For now."

Zay scratches his arm and mutters, "You're so damn annoying sometimes."

I'm not sure what to make of what I saw. These guys are crazy. But so am I.

_Crazy._

_Freak._

_Murderer_.

My scars throb, reminding me that I'm barely wearing anything.

"Hey, while we're putting out requests and demands, can I put in one, too?" I ask, stretching out the hem of the shirt I'm wearing.

"What do you want?" Zay grumbles while Hunter says cheerfully, "Anything you want. Name it and it's yours."

"What if I ask for a unicorn?" I ask him.

A smile curves across his face. "Then I'd say give me a couple of days and I'll make sure to have a sparkly, glittery horse with a horn that poops out rainbows waiting for you on your front porch. I'll even put a sparkly bow on it."

"Sounds appealing, but FYI, unicorns don't poop out rainbows. Not sure where you got that information from." I shake my head, realizing I'm getting sidetrack again. "But actually, I was going to ask for some clothes to wear. Preferably mine, but I'm not sure if they're still wet."

"We put them in the dryer a couple of hours ago, so they should be nice and dry now." Hunter's gaze scrolls up and down my body. "You sure you don't want to just wear my shirt? It looks amazing on you."

Shaking his head, Zay reaches out and smacks Hunter on the back of his head.

Hunter gives him a dirty look as he rubs the spot. "Ow... What the heck was that for?"

"For flirting with her and already trying to break the rule." Zay nods at the doorway. "Go get her clothes. And while you're at it, take the time to really think about what you're doing. And I mean in a way bigger context. Like what's going to happen in the long run instead of in the next few minutes."

"You know that's not my style," Hunter points out, lowering his hand to his side.

"Well, you need to temporarily make it that way until we can figure this out or it's not gonna work," Zay stresses. "Now go get her clothes."

"Oh fine." Hunter starts to leave, but then he pauses, grinning at Zay from over his shoulder. "Just because I'm doing what you told me to do doesn't mean I'm actually letting you boss me around. I'm just trying to clear my head before things get too out of hand." He sneaks an almost worried look in my direction then walks out of the room.

"Jesus fucking Christ, he's so annoying sometimes," Zay mumbles, sinking down onto the edge of the pool table and massaging his temples with his fingertips.

"And you aren't?" I question.

He lifts his gaze, giving me a dirty look. "I'm not annoying. I'm just complicated."

"Maybe Hunter is, too," I suggest.

"Are you defending him?" he questions with a cock of his brow.

_Am I?_ "I don't know... Kind of... Maybe."

"Why?" he asks skeptically.

"I don't know... I guess because, out of all of you, he's been the nicest to me. And he seems easygoing. Well, when he's not helping you and Jax threaten me."

"Hunter is easygoing. He's also fucked almost every chick in our school. Then, after he does, he ditches them."

I remember what Katy told me. "So I've heard."

His brow quirks as he crosses his lean arms. "And that doesn't bother you?"

"Should it?"

"Depends on why you seem to like him?"

"I'm not sure I'm following you."

"I'm asking if you want to fuck him," he states bluntly. "Because, if you're going to be in our circle, you can't fuck any of us."

"Don't you think, if I wanted to fuck him or any of you guys, I would've taken you guys' other option back at the bridge?" I tell him, self-consciously wrapping my arms around myself as memories of falling off the bridge flash through my mind.

_I just gave up._

He drums his fingers against the side of the pool table. "Maybe. But maybe you just want to fuck Hunter. Who the hell knows? You seem like a really confusing girl."

"I am, but I don't want to have sex with any of you." It's the truth, too.

Sure, they're all hot, but I've barely kissed anyone, so screwing seems a little far out of my reach right now.

His gaze dissects me. Or tries to. Doubtful he can actually see the real me, especially since I can't really see her anymore.

"You never did mention who was running their mouth about us to you," he says.

Strands of my hair fall into my eyes as I shake my head. "I'm not going to rat out this person so you can haul them to the bridge and scare the crap out of them."

He pushes away from the table, his boots scuffing the hardwood floor as he takes a step toward me. "Being in this circle means telling each other stuff."

"But I still haven't said I want to be in your circle," I remind him, holding my ground.

He inches closer, his gaze piercing into me. "You will once you realize it's better than being out there alone."

I scratch my wrist and adjust my leather bands, making sure the scars he still hasn't seen yet remain hidden. "Alone is what I know."

He's thrown off a bit, missing a beat, but he quickly recovers then moves even closer to me. "But it doesn't have to be that way. I mean, I understand that sometimes it can seem easier to be alone, but the truth is, it's really not."

I tip my head back to meet his gaze. "Are you speaking from experience?"

He smirks. "Maybe one day you'll find out... if you become one of us. But I rarely tell outsiders shit about me. If I did, then they could use it against me. And I don't need anyone having anything they can use against me. It's too dangerous."

I wonder how he'd feel if he knew what Hunter told me about him. Not that I'm going to tell him and rat Hunter out.

"Why's it dangerous?" I ask.

He just stares at me instead of replying.

"Right," I say. "I have to join your circle before you start telling me stuff."

A slow smile spreads across his lips. "Finally, you're catching on."

"I guess so. But I still have a ton of questions before I even consider joining you guys' weird-ass circle that seems an awful lot like a gang."

"I'm sure you do, but not all of them are going to get answered," he replies as he digs out his phone then glances at the screen.

"Some have to be answered first... I mean..." I try to figure out where to start. "Is this a gang?"

His gaze elevates to me. "If I said yes, would it be a deal breaker?"

"I don't know..." I chew on my bottom lip. "Are you guys killers?"

His barely-there smile sends a chill down my spine. "If we were, it'd be stupid to ask me that."

"Why? You asked me if I was one."

"Yeah, but I'm fairly sure you're not."

"And I already told you that you're wrong." I rub my hands up and down my arms as a coldness settles over me.

"Are you saying that because you really can remember what happened that day?" He observes me with curiosity. "Or are you just buying into what everyone's been whispering about you?"

"How do you know I can't remember...?" I trail off, frowning. "Right. You read my therapy file." My frown deepens at how much he really knows about me. "Don't you think it seems fair that I get to read yours then?"

He grins coldly. "Who says I have one?"

"Don't you?" I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm betting I'm right. Just like I'm betting he's been to therapy for anger management issues.

He rolls his tongue in his mouth. "Yeah, I do."

"What's it for?" I wonder. When he makes no effort to respond, I elevate my brows. "Come on, Zay." I mock. "I thought you weren't scared of anything."

"I never said that. What I said is that I want people to be scared of me, which means keeping my secrets to myself." Then he crowds my personal space, dipping his lips toward my ear. "I'll tell you what, though," he whispers. "If you tell me what really happened with your parents—and I mean all the gory details—I'll give you my therapy file."

I fight back a shiver as I imagine what it would be like to talk about my parents' deaths aloud. I've only ever done it with a therapist. It was part of the deal that was struck when I was released from the psychiatric hospital.

"Just like that?" My tone comes out even, despite the goosebumps dotting my arms.

"Just like that." He slants back and waits for me to answer.

And man, do I want to agree to this deal. Not only over my inquisitiveness to find out more about him, but to have ammunition against him if he decides to pull another stunt like the bridge. But the idea of confessing that dark day—and I mean all the details I've never told anyone—makes my stomach churn.

I shake my head then pat his shoulder. "Nah, I'm good with the whole I'll-keep-my-secrets-and-you-keep-yours thing."

He glances at the spot on his arm where I touched him then back at me and a muscle in his jaw pulsates. "We'll see about that."

"Oh really? Is that a challenge?"

Surprise flickers in his eyes. It seems to be a reoccurring thing when I talk to him.

"If it is, you better be afraid," he warns ominously. "I never lose a challenge."

"I think I've already made it pretty clear that I'm not afraid of you, Zay."

"Bullshit. You were completely afraid of me at the bridge."

"I was mildly alarmed for a little bit, but then you jumped in that river to save me, so your scary factor went down a freakin' ton." As I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, the scent of the river water engulfs my nostrils.

God, I stink. I need a shower.

"Yeah, I did save your life," he agrees. "And you never even thanked me for it."

I roll my eyes. "You kind of owed me that since you're the reason I was in the river at all."

He shakes his head. "Do we really have to go over this again? We were never actually going to make you jump."

I'm actually starting to believe him, but still... "I'll thank you for saving me when you apologize for making me think I had to jump."

He stares me down hard. "I don't apologize for anything."

"And I rarely say thank you."

He inches toward me until the tips of his boots graze my bare feet. "You're driving me crazy. You know that? I jump into a fucking freezing river and drag your ass out. Then I go back in to get your jacket because you wouldn't stop whining about it. And I let you use my body heat." He leans in until only a sliver of space is between our faces. "Do you understand how big of a deal that was for me?"

"No, because I don't know you." My heart is beating very hard inside my chest, but I can't quite figure out why. Am I scared of him? No, I don't think so. And what about what he just said? "You went back and got my jacket?" I ask, my heart tightening in my chest in a way I never felt before.

"Yeah, but only because you wouldn't shut up about it." He gives a short, considering pause. "Why's it so important to you?"

I feel very strange inside, like kind of warm and gooey. "It was my mom's. It's pretty much the only thing I have left that belonged to her."

"Oh." Sympathy briefly reflects from his eyes. "I guess I'm glad I went back and got it for you then."

The warm feeling stirring inside me is making me feel all squirrely. "Why's that?" I ask distractedly.

He shrugs, staring at the floor. "My mom's dead, too, so I get it... Kind of."

I observe the way he shifts his weight and scratches his neck, as if he's nervous. Yet, he's acted so tough up until this point.

Just who is Zay?

Hunter may have told me a little bit about him, but I have a feeling there's way more to this complicated, and dangerously gorgeous guy standing in front of me.

"Thanks for getting my jacket," I tell him quietly. "It means a lot to me."

His gaze glides back to me, question marks filling his eyes. "You thank me for saving your jacket but not yourself?"

I fidget with the leather bands on my wrists as vulnerability flickers through me. _I feel too exposed right now._ "That's the only thank you I'm handing out for today."

His gaze sears into mine. "Is it because you wanted me to leave you in that river? Is that why you won't thank me for saving you?"

He strikes a nerve. A deep nerve that is way too close to a truth I won't admit.

_I gave up for a moment..._

"No, I won't thank you because it was partly your fault I was in that river. Something I've told you like ten times already."

He grits his teeth. "Has anyone ever told you how frustrating you are?"

"Yep," I reply, unashamed. "It might be something you want to consider before you bring me into your group."

He grows silent, and I think he's contemplating what I said, until he says, "We already brought you in."

I let out a frustrated groan, my head bobbing back. "Not when I haven't agreed to it, and I already told you that I can't until I get some questions answered first. I mean, I don't even know anything about you guys, other than the stuff that person told me today. And for all I know, that could've been gossip."

"It wasn't," he replies with indifference.

I lift my head and look at him inquisitively. "How do you know that? I haven't even told you everything she told me."

His lips coil upward into a chilling grin. "So, it's a she?" He rubs his jawline. "Good. That's a starting point."

I tense, realizing my mistake. "Don't go looking for her."

He grins menacingly. "Why? Whoever it is, I'm sure you barely know them."

"Yeah, so..." I frown. "They were nice to me today."

"I was nice to you, too. Not just when I jumped into the water to save you, but when I held you and pressed your chest against mine... And..." He yanks his fingers through his hair roughly. "You know what? Forget it. Be ungrateful." He spins around as if to leave the room.

Memories of being in the SUV pressed up against his warm chest swirl inside my mind. He'd been so tense, and Hunter had asked him if he could handle it. Handle what, though?

I recall something else Katy said to me, about Zay being into kinky stuff, how he never kissed on the mouth and, from what she had heard, he was rough, cold, and didn't like to touch very much. But he touched me. A lot. Sure, it was to save my life, but still...

"Thanks for saving me," I call out. "And for not letting me freeze to death afterward."

He slows to a stop, curling his fingers into fists as he turns around to face me. His expression is guarded, his posture rigid. But then he abruptly relaxes, his lips kicking up into a smirk. "You should be."

I groan. "Oh, good Lord, you're a drama queen."

"He really is." Hunter strolls back into the room with a small stack of clothes in his arms. "You'll get used to it, though, and eventually find it amusing. That's when the real fun is going to begin." He sets down the clothes on the pool table then rubs his hands together with a devious grin. "Now that I have a partner in crime."

I point at myself. "You think _I'm_ gonna be your partner in crime?"

He steps past a glaring Zay, his attention glued to me. "Yep. I can see it now. You and me, tormenting everyone that we find annoying with our clever jokes and wittiness. We'll be the funniest duo ever."

Again, I can't keep a smile off my face. Seriously, what is it with him and getting me to smile all the time? "Then wouldn't that make us The Raven Two?"

He points a finger at me. "You're right. We should ditch these other two." He nods at Zay. "Jax and him have been holding me back with their uptightness and constant panties-in-a-bunch issues."

"Have you ever tried just getting them bigger panties? Maybe their constant uptightness has to do with constant discomfort down there." I gesture at Zay's lower region, eliciting a nasty look from him.

Hunter grins from ear to ear. Then he bounds forward, scoops me up into his arms, and slings me over his shoulder, startling the hell out of me.

"I'm keeping her," he declares as I tug on the hem of the shirt I'm wearing, trying to keep my ass covered. "She's all mine." Then he skips toward the doorway.

A giggle slips from my lips. "Dude, put me down before I flash Zay."

Hunter chuckles. "Maybe you should just flash him. He might chill out a bit."

I lift my head and sweep my hair out of my eyes, turning my head in an attempt to see Hunter's face. "Why the hell would seeing my ass make him chill out?"

"Because you have a tight ass and he's a tight ass," he quips, which literally makes zero sense for multiple reasons.

I glance over at Zay to see what he thinks about all this and... well, if looks could kill, I would be a dead woman standing right now. Or hanging upside down anyway...

"You haven't seen my ass, so how do you know it's tight?" I ask Hunter, gripping the back of his shirt as I feel myself starting to slide off his shoulder.

He laughs as he reaches the doorway. Then he twirls around so he's facing Zay, leaving me to stare at the hallway. "Dude, our little raven thinks we haven't checked out her ass," he states with hilarity.

"I haven't checked out her ass," Zay snaps but Hunter just laughs.

"Yeah, right," he teases. "I know for a fact you have."

"There's no way you could possibly know that," Zay says. "And unlike you, I don't have to check out everyone's ass. Hell, you even checked mine out the other day."

"Only because I could see some sort of weird stick thing stuffed into your back pocket. It looked weird," Hunter says, gripping the back of my thigh to keep me from falling.

"What was it?" I ask, bracing my hands against Hunter's back.

"Well, he said it was a knife." Hunter drapes an arm over my lower back as he repositions my weight. "But I don't know. I kind of wonder if it was a dildo and he just didn't want to tell me."

I choke on a laugh and lose my breath as blood rushes to my head. The combination makes the room spin.

"I told you it was my knife," Zay says with annoyance. "And you know it was. You're just doing what you always do—trying to show off."

"And you're being moody, just like always." Hunter shifts his weight, causing me to slide farther down his back. Spots dot my vision.

"Um, I think I might pass out."

"Put her down," Zay orders. "You shouldn't be carrying her around like that."

"Until there's a rule I can't carry her, I'm gonna, because friends can carry each other around. But I'll put her down for now, because I don't want to see her black out again." He lowers me to the floor then positions me in front of him, placing his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "It scared the shit out of me the last time you did."

"I scared the shit out of myself." I press my hand to my forehead as dizziness continues to consume my brain. "Whoa, total head rush."

Concern masks Hunter's expression as he levels his gaze with mine. "Are you okay?"

I bob my head up and down. "Yeah, I'm just a little bit dizzy. Hanging upside and laughing will do that to you."

"You need to take it easy with her," Zay tells Hunter as he steps up beside him. "She almost froze to death only hours ago, for hell's sake."

Hunter gives a dramatic roll of his eyes. "Sometimes you sound too much like Jax."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Jax's stern voice sails across the room.

"Crap, we pissed big brother off," Hunter mumbles to Zay.

"I didn't do shit," Zay hisses then turns toward the doorway where Jax is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

"Big brother?" I look at Jax. "Does that mean you're older?"

Wisps of hair dangle in his eyes as he shakes his head. "No."

"We call him that 'cause he acts like he's the boss," Hunter explains, slipping his hands into his back pockets. "We're actually all eighteen."

"Oh." I peer around at the three of them. Honestly, if I hadn't met them in the high school, I probably would've guessed them to be older.

"How old are you?" Hunter asks, eyeing me over.

"Seventeen," I say. "I'll be eighteen soon, though."

He bobs his head up and down. "Good to know."

I raise a brow. "Why?"

"So we can start planning your birthday party, obviously." He flashes me a toothy grin.

For some reason, I feel like he's not being entirely truthful.

"Why would you do that?" I question. "We're not friends, and I never agreed to be in your circle."

"Good Lord," Zay mumbles then looks at Jax. "Can we please sit down and explain some stuff to her? She's driving me crazy with this bullshit."

Jax studies me for a flutter of a heartbeat then nods as he straightens his stance. "Yeah, let's go into the room."

I pull a wary face. "The room? That sounds... ominous."

"It's just a soundproof room," Hunter insists, lacing his fingers through mine. "Stop being scared of us, little raven. We're here to protect you, not harm you."

A soundproof room? Yeah, that sounds normal. And what do they need to even soundproof anyway? Screaming?

I sigh internally, still not convinced they won't hurt me, no matter what they say. Not after what happened today. Not after what's happened to me almost all the days of my life since my parents died.

_"You're such a freak," he tells me as he shoves me into the janitor's closet. "Do this school a favor and leave. No one wants you here, you freak."_

_"You killer," his friend adds, stepping up behind him and sneering at me._

_Blood is trickling down my forehead from when they shoved me forward and my head slammed against the corner of my locker. I want to cry from the pain, but I refuse to. I always do in front of the bullies. I just wish they'd leave me alone._

_At my old school, I had a lot of friends. Now I have no one. Dixie May made sure of that when she told everyone what I was once accused of._

_Killing my parents._

_I don't even know why Dixie May doesn't like me. My aunt and uncle don't either. My aunt, though, is just a bitch about it. My uncle... he seriously despises me. At first, I thought it was because he believed I really did kill his brother, but I overheard him telling my aunt how much he loathed my dad and how much he hated having to take care of me._

_"This is where you belong. In the dark, by yourself, where no one has to look at your stupid face," the guy who shoved me into the closet says as he reaches for the doorknob._

_I don't even know his name. Sure, I've seen him around, but other than that, we've barely crossed paths. Except for this morning when he showed up and shoved me into the locker before him and his friend then shoved me into this closet._

_I put up a fight, but these guys are a lot bigger than me. Doesn't mean I'm going to back down, though._

_"Shut up," I growl out as I stumble to my feet, ignoring the dizziness spinning in my brain. Then I storm toward the door, preparing to fight like my dad taught me, but the door is slammed in my face._

_Tears prickle my eyes as I grab the doorknob and push on the door. It won't budge._

_"Let me out!" I shout as I bang on the door._

_Laughter echoes from the other side._

_"I bet this feels familiar, right?" one of the guys mocks from the other side of the door. "Just like your jail cell."_

_"I was never in prison," I mutter, sinking down into a crouch and wrapping my arms around my legs._

_"Liar," he says. "Have fun in there, killer, locked up just like you should be."_

_When it grows quiet after that, I figure they left._

_I should get up and open the door, go to class. Instead, I stay where I am, rotting in the dark, just like my soul already is._

"Hey." Hunter's warm palm against my cheek draws me out of memory lane. Worry floods his eyes as he examines me. "You okay?"

I give an unsteady nod. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Because you just zoned out for, like, a minute straight." Hunter chews on his bottom lip. "Where'd your mind just go?"

"Nowhere," I quickly say then sweep my gaze across the three of them. Zay appears genuinely puzzled, Hunter looks worried, and Jax's expression is neutral. But they're looking at me, like _really_ looking at me, and that makes me squirm.

What if they can see my vulnerability, my self-hatred? From my past experiences, allowing bullies to find your weaknesses is never a good idea. Not that I'm positive these guys are bullies... Honestly, I'm still somewhat confused about what they are and what they want from me.

Maybe I need a timeout.

"I'm going to go get dressed." I back away from Hunter and Zay and pick up my clothes from off the pool table. "Where can I do that?" I don't direct the question to any of them in particular since I'm still not sure whose house I'm in.

Silence stretches for a moment, then Jax motions for me to follow him. "Come on; I'll find a room for you." He starts down the hallway.

I hurry after him, squeezing between Zay and Hunter on my way.

"You sure you're okay, little raven?" Hunter calls out after me with a hint of worry lacing his tone.

"Yep," I assure him without a glance back. Then I rush down the hallway, telling myself that I am okay.

That I always am.

But what happened today on the bridge proves that, deep down, I'm really not.
11

# Raven

Jax makes no effort to speak to me, and I let the silence be, not really in the mood to talk anyway. The memory of being locked in that closet was a total buzzkill, a reminder of how ugly my life is and how ugly it will always be.

And I deserve ugly for what I did to them.

"You're being quiet," Jax remarks, finally breaking the silence as he leads me down yet another wide hallway lined with doors and paintings.

"I normally am. Today was just a weird day." I eye the paintings on the wall. "Did Hunter paint all of these?"

Jax glances at me warily. "He told you he paints?"

I nod in confusion. "Was he lying?"

He shakes his head, his intense gaze fixed on me. "No. He just normally doesn't tell total strangers he does."

"Really? Because, to me, he seems like the kind of guy who tells everyone everything."

The corners of Jax's lips tip into a shadow of a smile. "Sometimes he does have a big mouth, but he never talks about personal stuff, whether it's his or mine or Zay's."

Hmm... I wonder if he'd still be saying that if he knew what Hunter told me about Zay and the raven.

He comes to a stop in front of a closed door and adds, "Something you should take note of."

"I'm not a gossiper." I stop beside him, holding my clothes against my chest. "In fact, I'm a great secret keeper. Not that it matters since I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be in your group."

He doesn't react at all, simply staring at me. Either he's the most unemotional person ever or he's very... controlled I guess is the right word.

"If you don't want to, that's fine," he finally says as he extends his hand toward the doorknob. "But you might want to hear what we have to say before you make this decision, because Honeyton isn't just some small town. It has a darker, dangerous side to it."

"Yeah, but I'm not part of that darker side."

"But your uncle's the sheriff."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Because his job is to keep an eye on that darker, dangerous side of town. Unless he lets it buy him off. But that still comes with risks." He pushes open the door as my lips part with a ton of questions. "That's all I'm going to say for now. I'll explain more after you get dressed." He backs away from me. "When you're done, head in here." He stops in front of a door three doors down, pushes it open, and then walks inside without saying anything else.

His ability to dismiss things is impressive. I almost envy him because of it. But I also don't know much about him either. Maybe there's a deeper reason for why he hardly reacts to anything.

Frowning, I turn back to the open door and tentatively step inside, a bit apprehensive about entering an unknown room. But relief instantly trickles through me.

It's just a bedroom. A stunning bedroom with deep violet walls, a black ceiling, and antique light fixtures. A fireplace is on the far back wall, along with a curtain covered window, and in the center of it all is a massive four-poster bed covered with a purple velvet blanket.

Shutting the door, I cross the room, set my clothes down on the bed, and then head over to the window to peer outside so I can try to figure out where the hell I am. As soon as I draw the curtain back, my jaw nearly smacks the black and white checkerboard floor.

"Holy mother of... Where the hell am I?" I gape at what I'm assuming is Honeyton glimmering in the distance below the hill that this house is perched on like some freakin' royal castle. Hills roll in the distance, and the sun has set, the midnight blue sky sparkling with silver stars and moonlight.

Shaking my head, I let the curtain go then return to the bed to get dressed.

Once I get my shorts, shirt, tights, and shoes on, I move to put on my jacket, but something doesn't seem right. I lift the leather fabric up to my nose and breathe in. Then tears burn my eyes. It doesn't smell like my mom's perfume anymore, but like freshly fallen rain.

A tear slips from my eye as another piece of her is ripped away from me. But I hastily swipe it away and suck the tears back.

I don't deserve to cry.

Not about this.

_Blood on my hands._

_My parents' lifeless bodies in front of me on the floor._

_I can't remember how I got here. Can't remember anything after my mom told me to hide. The police officer, though, staring at me right now, has a horrified look on his face, like he knows exactly what happened. Then he grabs me and jerks me toward him—_

I blink, slightly gasping as the memory fades. I hate when I have random flashbacks. Hate that I can never put all the pieces together. Although, deep down, part of me fears what will happen—what I'll see—if I ever remember everything. The police had their speculations. I'd been known to have a temper, just like my dad. And with the blood on my hands... it looked suspicious. There were also a couple of witnesses who said they saw me fighting with my parents earlier that day out in the front yard, something I don't remember at all. Weirdly, though, those witnesses went off the radar, leaving the police with hardly any evidence against me, other than how they found me that day. But my lawyer argued that I could've easily just found my parents, that I panicked and tried to resuscitate them, and that's why I had blood on my hands. That my hands didn't put the knife wounds in their bodies.

I wish I believed him, but sometimes...

_"I hate you!" I scream at my dad, a potent rage burning inside me. "I wish you'd just go away!"_

_Blood on my hands._

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Murderer._

Swallowing hard, I lift the hem of my shirt and peer down at the scars marking my flesh.

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Unwanted._

_Ugly._

_Tainted._

_Murderer._

My uncle carved them into my flesh the very first day I pissed him off. He held me down and told me this is what my parents felt like when I carved them up. I didn't shed a single tear. I took my punishment. I fucking hate my uncle.

Tugging down the hem of the shirt, I slip on the leather jacket then adjust my leather bands to make absolutely certain those scars are hidden. The guys have seen too much of my ugliness already. Then I walk over to an oval mirror hanging on the wall and glance at my reflection.

I look like shit; pallid with dark circles under my eyes and my hair a wavy mess. But it is what it is.

I exit the room to go find out what in the world is up with these guys. And what the hell sort of town this is that I just moved to.
12

# Raven

The room Jax told me to go to looks a lot like the room with a pool table. The main difference is a set of drums and a couple of guitars are perched in the corner, along with some sound equipment.

When I enter, Jax is over at a bar area, pouring himself a glass of what looks like whiskey, and Hunter and Zay are sitting on the couch, drinking whiskey and chatting about something. They don't notice me come in, which I find kind of funny.

"You guys in a band or something?" I ask loudly, mostly to try to startle them. I do, too.

Zay nearly jumps out of his skin, and Hunter spins around on the sofa. Jax, though, doesn't even so much as blink in my direction, capping the whiskey bottle then returning it to a shelf.

_Yeah, that guy is seriously the most controlled person I've ever met_ , I decide right then and there. I wonder why. Just like I wonder why Zay is so moody and why Hunter is such a flirty manwhore.

Hunter quickly recovers from being startled and grins at me. "We are. Are you impressed?"

I shake my head. "Nah. I'm not really into modern day music."

"You like classic rock, then?" Hunter muses with a thoughtful expression.

I nod. "Yeah, my dad was into..." I stop myself. Jesus, was I just about to talk about my dad with them? My dad who I killed. _I don't deserve to talk about him_. "But anyway, yeah, I like classic rock."

Hunter smiles. "I bet we could learn how to play a few songs for you."

I just shrug, not wanting to let myself get caught up in this whole "friendship" thing with them. Not when I know it's not going to last.

Looking away, I step further into the room, highly aware that all of them are watching me.

"It took you forever to get changed," Hunter says in a teasing tone, as if he's trying to lighten my mood. "For a second, I thought I was going to have to come in and check on you to make sure you didn't need any help getting dressed. Which, FYI, if you ever do need help getting dressed, I'm your guy."

"I'm sure you are." I inch farther into the room, my gaze skimming across the paintings on the walls... No, not paintings. Photos. Beautiful ones of places I've never been to, of lakes, of cities, of trees shedding their leaves. Of life. _I wonder if Hunter took these?_ "So, whose house is this anyway?" I ask, tearing my attention off the photographs.

"Ours," Hunter is the one to answer, lifting the brim of his glass to his lips.

"So, you all live here?" I ask, and he nods, lowering the glass. "Okay, but who technically owns the house?"

" _Us_." Hunter slants forward, sets the glass down on a table in front of him, then pats the cushion between him and Zay. "Come sit down so we can talk. There's some stuff you need to understand."

I scratch the corner of my eye. "Can't I just stand over here while we talk? I can hear just fine right now."

"Yeah, but it's so much more comfortable over here." He pats the cushion and gives me a come-hither look.

I forcefully smash my lips together as laughter tickles my throat. "Yeah, but it's so much closer to the door over here."

Huffing out an exhale, Zay rises to his feet and strides across the room toward me.

As he nears me, I instinctively take a step back at the fire blazing in his eyes. I expect him to try to pick me up and sling me over his shoulder when he reaches me; however, he gently takes my hand.

"Just come sit down so we can get this over with," he grumbles, leading me to the sofa then pulling me down with him as he plops onto the cushion.

Hunter slants forward to look around me and at Zay with a twinkle in his eyes. "You okay, man?"

Zay gives a nod. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Hunter elevates his brows then gives a pressing look at Zay's and my interlocked fingers.

Zay immediately jerks back like I have cooties then scrubs his hand over his head, looking away and muttering, "Can we just get this over with? I have other shit to do tonight."

And I guess we're back to him being irritated then.

"You really are the moodiest person ever," I remark, sinking back on the sofa.

Zay's gaze cuts to me. "And you're the most stubborn person ever."

I shrug, crossing my legs. "Tell me something I don't already know."

"How about this?" He rotates on his seat and brings his knee onto the cushion while sliding his arm across the back of the sofa right behind me. "You, princess, have officially made your home in a town full of mobsters."

"I already told you I'm not a princess..." I trail off as his words register and my eyes widen. "Wait. Mobsters?"

Zay's lips kick up into a smirk, clearly pleased with catching me off guard. "Yep. The town is full of them. There are five main ones all crammed into this lovely, little place you now call home."

"Well, I guess we're just going to jump into this then," Hunter mumbles from beside me.

Zay keeps his gaze welded with mine as he tells Hunter, "Might as well. It's not going to be any easier if we try to ease her into this, like you suggested."

"Not everyone is like you, Zay." Hunter reaches for his drink. "Some people actually feel things other than disdain and anger."

I want to remark on what he said, but my mind is still stuck on what Zay said.

"Mobsters?" I repeat. "Like real ones?"

"No, we're talking about fake ones." Zay's tone seeps with sarcasm. "Of course we're talking about real ones."

I glance from him then to Hunter, who's guzzling his drink like his life depends on it. Then my attention shifts over to Jax, who's leaning against the bar, facing us, arms resting on the counter top. An empty glass is beside him, his gaze is on me, and his head is slightly angled to the side. He's assessing me—that much I can tell—but his expression is so blank that I can't tell much of anything else.

Blinking, I look back at Zay. "Are you messing with me? I mean, is this like... I don't know. Is this like the bridge thing? I didn't die, so you decided to screw with me?"

Zay slowly shakes his head, his gaze never wavering from mine. "Nope. And I already told you we never wanted you to die. That we didn't even expect you to jump."

I'm still not sure I believe him. And I really don't think I believe the whole mobster thing. I mean... "How is it possible for five main mobster groups to live in Honeyton? The population is, like, nothing."

"Because a lot of population is part of a group." Zay takes a sip of his drink. "About twenty-five percent of the town, actually."

"Oh." I sink back into the chair as I attempt to process this information. "When you say mobsters, do you mean like a bunch of powerful people that hang out? Or mobsters as in, we drop people into a lake with a brick tied to their feet mobsters?"

"Probably more the latter. Although, I've never personally dropped anyone into a lake with a brick tied to their feet." Zay finishes the rest of his drink then sets the empty glass down on the table.

"No, you just threaten them into jumping into a river," I joke but I'm still swirling in shock.

_Mobsters? Mobsters live here?_

_Wait. Are they a part of one—_

Zay's nostrils flare as he leans forward, getting in my face. "You know what? I'm really starting to regret jumping in to save you."

I roll my eyes then place my hand against his chest to push him back, a comeback tickling at my tongue. But the moment my hand comes into contact with his solid chest, I pause.

His heart is racing so fast. Like he's freaked out of his damn mind. Or on some sort of drug.

Zay takes a shaky breath, his eyelids lowering.

"Little raven," Hunter says cautiously, "pull your hand away."

I start to do what he says, when Zay encloses his fingers around my wrist, stopping me. I tense as he then slips his finger underneath my leather bands and grazes the elevated scars. Then his eyelids lift open and he stares at me. He doesn't react, which makes me wonder if he noticed the scars earlier, like maybe when he saved me. I wonder just how much he saw of them. If he put two and two together. Whatever he knows, I feel the need to defend myself, make up a story about where they came from, because I don't want him to know about that ugly. The one I put on myself.

But, as my lips part, not a single sound leaves my mouth.

Zay takes a shaky inhale, skimming the pad of his thumb across the scars again. When he repeats the movement, my heart sputters inside my chest.

Touch. There it is again, the thing I had completely forgotten existed.

The warmth. That spark of connection.

But a warning rings in the back of my mind.

_Pull away, Raven. Don't let him read you anymore. Don't let him see those scars, the ones no one knows about._

But despite my thoughts, I remain frozen, stuck in some sort of trance with my hand against his chest, his heart hammering inside.

_Why does he seem so afraid?_

_What is he hiding?_

"Zay." Jax's demanding voice slices through the intense moment. "Let her go."

Zay stares at me for a beat then blinks, jerking away. "I wasn't going to fucking hurt her," he mutters then gets up and crosses the room to the bar to pour himself another drink.

A shaky breath eases from my lips. _Holy intense._

Maybe one of the most intense moments of my life, which is saying a lot.

Maybe I should be worried about Zay and his intensity toward me. Hunter and Jax sure as hell seem to be. It makes me wonder what Zay has done. Has he hurt people? Is he part of a mobster group?

"Are you guys mobsters?" I dare ask, hugging the arm Zay had ahold of against my chest. Not because he hurt me. My scars just feel so... exposed right now, like a big, red letter _A_ has been branded to my chest. Only it's not an _A_ , but a declaration of just how much I hate myself sometimes.

_Just let go._

_Give up, Raven._

When I realize no one has answered me, I glance at Hunter since he seems like my best bet in getting to the truth. "Are you?"

Rubbing his lips together, he wavers. "Sort of."

"Okay." That wasn't really an answer. "What does that mean exactly?"

Hunter sighs, his lips parting.

"It means that we are for now," Jax is the one to answer as he ambles over to the sofa across from where Hunter and I are sitting. He takes a seat and leans back, resting his arms on the armrest.

For some weird-ass reason, I can picture him sitting in a chair behind a desk, dressed in a suit, everyone referring to him as "The Boss." But that stuff is all in the movies. This is real life.

"For now?" I say slowly. "So, eventually you won't be?"

Jax shrugs, swishing around the ice in his drink. "Yep."

Jesus, could he be more vague?

"How does one get out of the mafia, though? I thought it was like a leave and die sort of thing." I give a short pause. "And can anyone join it? I mean, you guys are only eighteen... How long have you been part of it?"

Jax watches me from over the rim of his glass as he lifts the drink to his mouth and sips a gulp of whiskey. Every one of his movements is careful, calculated.

"All our lives," he says as he lowers the glass.

"So, you were born into it?" I glance at the three of them. "All of you?"

Jax nods, placing the drink on the end table beside him. "My father is the leader of the Capperellies. We control the east side of Honeyton. Zay's dad is my dad's brother. Hunter's dad was an outside member who was brought in, but he's been part of it for longer than Hunter's been born." He leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. "So, yeah, we were born into this. It's all we know. For now anyway."

"Again, you say that like you're gonna leave," I say as Hunter slides his arm behind me.

"That's because we are," Hunter says, drawing my attention to him. "We made a deal with Jax's dad quite a while ago. We've been working for him ever since, and we'll continue to work for him until we graduate. Then we're free to go live our lives."

"Just like that?" I question with skepticism.

Hunter grows serious, a side of him I didn't believe existed.

"It hasn't been easy... what we've had to do..." His throat muscles work as he swallows hard then looks away.

The room grows so quiet I can hear the racing beat of my heart.

"So then, why bring me into your circle?" I ask quietly. "I mean, you guys don't seem like you even like being part of it."

"Our circle has nothing to do with the Capperellies." Zay walks over and sits down beside me, leaving more space between us than he did last time. "We created it to protect ourselves from other families... from our own families." He downs another cup of whiskey then sets the glass aside. Then the three of them trade a look, having some sort of silent discussion with their eyes.

"The thing is," Hunter says, looking at me. "With your dad being the sheriff, you're in a very vulnerable situation. If he tries to play good cop and goes up against the five families, things are going to get really ugly for your family fast."

"And if he decides to let one of the families buy him off," Zay adds, "then the other four families are going to come after you."

"So, basically, I'm screwed," I state, unsure how I feel about that, about any of what they're saying.

"You should sound more worried," Zay warns, his gaze searing into mine. "This isn't a joke. The people who run this town are dangers. Trust us. We've been working with them for years and have seen the darkness..." He slouches back on the chair and mumbles, "We're part of the darkness ourselves."

Again, I wonder what sort of things they've done, if they're as bad as me.

"I am worried," I tell him. "I just... I don't know..." I shrug, not wanting to explain how messed up I am, how I hardly allow myself to feel much.

Zay's dark eyes try to unravel me. "You just what?"

I shrug again. "I really don't know. I mean, all of this—the mafia, your circle—I've never had to deal with anything like it before."

Zay arches his brow. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah...?" Puzzlement webs through me. "Why?"

Zay shrugs then sneaks a glance at Jax. "Just wondering."

My puzzlement deepens, but before I can ask more questions, Zay turns back to me.

"Look, I know you think you don't want to be part of our circle, but we're not screwing around when we say that you're putting yourself at risk if you don't join." He crosses his arms. "This town, it's full of unsaid rules and territories, and if you don't know where not to go and what not to do, you're gonna end up a hell of a lot worse than how you did today."

"We want to help you, little raven." Hunter threads his fingers through mine to capture my attention. "But you have to accept our help."

I shake my head, the words overwhelming me and making me put my guard up. "Why, though? Because I jumped off some dumb bridge? Because it doesn't make sense. Not really... I mean, people don't just help other people out 'cause they're crazy enough to jump into freezing cold rivers." I nibble on my bottom lip. "I feel like there's more to it. Like maybe this is a setup."

Zay shakes his head and mumbles, "You have more trust issues than I do."

"I wouldn't go that far," Jax states, his gaze dissecting me. "But she definitely has trust issues."

I resist the urge to squirm. "Let's just say I've been stabbed in the back a lot."

Jax stares at me so intently that I feel like he's peeling back layers of my skin. "By who?"

I lift a shoulder. "A lot of people."

He mulls over what I said with a blank expression. "You give us one name, and we'll take care of it."

Zay's gaze snaps to him. "Are you being serious right now?"

Jax shrugs, his gaze relentlessly boring into me. "She needs to trust us. Let's give her a reason."

Hunter grins wildly from beside me as he rubs his hands together. "Oh, I'm liking the sound of this."

"So who's it going to be?" Jax stares at me with a challenge in his eyes, as if daring me to give him a name. Maybe I shouldn't. I mean, I've seen what these guys are capable of. They warned me that they're dangerous. And they're in the mafia for hell's sake. But then the scars on my side start to throb, pulsate, begging me to let out that pain, just utter one name.

Dixie May?

My aunt?

Almost everyone from my old school.

The cop who hauled me away from my house that day.

The doctor from the psychiatric hospital who studied me way too closely.

I could even tell them myself. Punish myself for putting those scars on my wrist.

The scars on my side throb harder, begging me to say one name.

"All right," I say. "I want you to take care of my uncle."

Jax gives a nod, not a drop of surprise evident in his eyes, like he expected me to say just that. "All right, consider it done."
13

# Raven

After my declaration, Jax gets up and leaves the room and Zay follows after him. So does Hunter, but he pulls me up with him and keeps ahold of my hand as he guides me out the door and into the hallway.

None of them exchange any words as Jax walks ahead with Zay right behind him and Hunter and I tagging along at the end. As the silence creeps up on me, unease stirs, and I instinctively reach into my pocket to grab my iPod and earbuds. Then I remember I left them in my locker, along with my stash of weed.

"Dammit," I gripe unintentionally aloud.

Hunter glances at me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I give a dismissive shrug.

"Oh, now, come on. I wanna know." He pouts, batting his eyelashes at me.

"Dude, how many times a day do you pull that crap?" I gesture at his batting eyelashes.

"All the damn time," he answers shamelessly. "And it almost always works. Just like it's going to now." He bats his eyelashes again.

I roll my eyes hard. "Whatever. It's not even a big deal. I was just curing 'cause I left my iPod at school. And my stash of weed."

"Weed, huh?" His brow cocks. "You a stoner?"

I shake my head. "Nah, I just do it when I want to tune out. I actually steal it from my uncle."

Hunter's forehead creases as we reach the end of the hallway that splits into two other hallways.

"Your uncle sells?" Hunter asks, steering me to the right.

I shrug as I peer around at the stars painted on the ceiling. "I'm not sure. All I know is that he steals some of the drugs from the raids he does and stashes them in our attic, so I occasionally sneak up there and steal a little here and there. I'm not sure what he does with the rest, but my bet is he sells it or does the drugs himself... Although, I'm not sure if he's going to have a stash now that we live here." I blow out a sigh. Which means I'm probably going to have to find a dealer since weed isn't legal here yet. And even if it was, I'm not old enough to buy it. I had a fake ID once, but my uncle found it and cut it up. He also bruised the hell out of my face for it.

Back in the day, before I went to live with my aunt and uncle, I used to see dealers all the time, hanging out on street corners, in front of the school, sometimes in our living room. But I never did drugs until I moved in with my uncle, and I have no idea how to even find a dealer. Unless these guys deal. Do mobsters deal drugs?

Hunter smiles at the look on my face. "Where's your head at, little raven? Because you look confused, like you're thinking too hard, and it's really adorable."

"I'm never adorable," I argue, but he only grins. "Whatever." I sigh. "I was just thinking—or, well, wondering—where I'm going to get my stash if my uncle doesn't hide drugs in our attic anymore." I arch my brows at him and say sarcastically, "Pretty damn adorable, right?"

"Definitely." He wiggles his hand from mine then slings his arm over my shoulders. "Don't you worry your pretty little head. Zay and I'll take care of you."

"Why?" I question. "Are you guys a bunch of potheads?"

He dismisses my question with a flick of his wrist. "Nah, we just like to have fun occasionally."

"Only occasionally, huh?" I tease, looking up at him.

He gives an exaggerated nod then leans in and whispers, "If it were up to me, I'd have fun twenty-four seven, but big brother up there"—he nods at Jax—"is a total buzzkill. Seriously, he's all about working... and blah... blah... blah..." He flaps his hand, making talking motions.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Jax calls out without looking back at us.

Hunter's eyes go mockingly wide. "Shit, now I'm gonna be grounded."

I giggle, the sound echoing down the hallway, again reminding me how ungodly huge this place is.

"Is this really you guys' house?" I glance around at the cathedral-like ceiling.

"Yep." He pulls me closer to his side. "All our names are on the deed and everything."

I stare at him in awe. "I just... How is that possible? I mean, you're eighteen for crying out loud. You can't own a house yet."

His eyes sparkle as he leans in. "Says who?"

"Says the rest of us almost eighteen-year-olds who own nothing but shoes."

"Some own bigger stuff, like cars."

"Yeah, well, I don't. I don't even know how to drive."

He slows to a stop, his eyes widening. "Please tell me you're kidding."

I give a shrug. "Sorry, but I'm not. It's not that big of a deal, though. I'm only seventeen. Well, soon I'll be eighteen, but..." I shrug again, unsure of what else to say.

He stares at me unfathomably. "Why hasn't anyone taught you yet?"

I shift my weight, hyperaware that Zay has stopped just a ways down the hallway and is listening. "Well, I asked my aunt once, but she said she didn't have time." Actually, she said she didn't want to waste her time trying to teach an idiot to drive, but I leave that part out. "And there's nobody else to ask except Dixie May, but she's already been in, like, five accidents already, so I didn't think it was a good idea to learn from her. Plus, like I said, we don't get along. At all."

Zay backtracks toward us. "What about your uncle?"

I glance at him. "What about him?"

His lean arms flex as he crosses them. "Why didn't you ever ask him to teach you? He's a cop. I'm sure he knows how to drive pretty well."

My lips tug downward and my hand drifts to my side. "My uncle and I... our relationship is complicated, hence the reason I threw his name out to you guys."

"Yeah, but why?" Zay's dark eyes search mine. "What's he done to you that made his name almost instinctive when we asked you who we should take care of? I mean, it basically rolled off your tongue— " he snaps his fingers—"just like that."

My fingers curl around my side. "Is that really important?"

He nods, his gaze blazing with the same intensity I saw earlier, right before he made Hunter drag me out of the school. "It is. And you want to know why?" He waits for me to answer and part of me wants to shake my head, a little afraid of the answer. Instead, I find myself nodding. A grin curls at his lips. "Because, when we punish someone, we like to make sure the punishment fits the crime. So whatever your uncle has done to you, we want to do the same to him. Only maybe we'll do it a little bit deeper, make him bleed a little bit more, drag out the pain a little bit longer."

I gulp down a shaky breath. "What if I told you all he did was call me names?"

"You don't throw out a name like that without having some deep issues with the person." He inches toward me. "So, tell me, princess, how did he hurt you?"

My heart thunders in my chest for a flash of a second as I actually contemplate telling someone about that god-awful day.

"I..." My words fade as a series of beeps echo through the air.

"Shit," Hunter curses, sticking his hand into his pocket.

Zay does the same thing, and then both of them take out their phones.

I'm about to ask what's going on when Jax announces from the other end of the hallway, "We've been summoned by The Bosses."

The Bosses? How very mobster-ish.

"But why?" Hunter gripes, clutching his phone. "I'd way rather go take care of her uncle."

"It's fine," I say, although a twisted part of me was really looking forward to whatever they were going to do. "I probably shouldn't have asked you guys to do anything to him anyway."

"No, you should've," Hunter assures me, grazing his knuckles across my jawline. "And don't pout. We're still going to take care of him. It'll just have to be tomorrow."

"Why?" I pry. "What are you guys doing tonight?"

Hunter's lips part, but Jax talks first as he walks toward us.

"We can't tell you about that yet." He stops beside Hunter. "Not until you take the pact."

I pull a confused face. "Pact?"

"We all had to make it." Hunter turns to look at his reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall while Zay fixes his tie then runs his hands across the top of his head.

Why are they getting all primpy? Just where are they about to go?

"What kind of pact is it?" I try to pry more information from them, to no avail.

"We'll explain that tomorrow," Jax answers as he sends a text message. "Right now, we need to go."

Hunter turns around to face us again. "Are we dropping her off on our way?"

Jax shakes his head as he stuffs his phone into his pocket. "No, I'm having Zee drive her."

Hunter nods. "Good idea."

"Who the heck is Zee?" I interrupt.

"Our driver," Hunter answers simply, like it's totally not a big deal that they have a driver.

"Oh. Okay. Cool." I have no idea what else to say.

This is all so weird. They're so weird. This freakin' day is so weird. But who am I to judge them?

I mean, I am the girl who was accused of killing her parents and couldn't even remember doing it. That's beyond weird. And creepy. And scary.

_Freak._

_Loser._

_Murderer._

_I hate myself._

When Jax's phone beeps again, he turns to Zay and Hunter. "That's probably Zee. One of you walk her out front. I need to go grab some stuff." He gives a quick glance in my direction then walks past me without even saying goodbye.

"I'll walk her out," Hunter volunteers with a trace of a smile.

Zay promptly shakes his head. "You go grab our stuff. I'll walk her out."

"Oh, fine." He pouts for a microsecond, but then his smile returns as his gaze slides to me. "I'll see your beautiful face tomorrow." Then he leans in and kisses me on the forehead. My brows rise to my hairline in surprise, and he chuckles, saying, "So cute," before walking away.

Zay sighs then shakes his head before nodding for me to follow him. "Come on, princess; let's get you home."

I walk beside him as he starts down the hallway. "You know, I really think if you're set on giving me a nickname, you should come up with one better than princess. It doesn't fit me at all." I also want to point out that from what Hunter said, he usually doesn't give nicknames to people, but I don't want to rat out Hunter.

He casts a mildly amused sidelong glance. "I think it does."

I scrunch up my nose. "I think you're wrong. Princess seems like a nickname for someone who's high maintenance, and I'm not. At all."

"You're not, huh?" he mocks as we reach a set of wide doors. "I've only known you for a day, and I've already had to jump into a freezing river to save your ass."

I let out a groan. "Do we really have to go over this again?"

"Hey, you're the one who thanked me for saving you." He smirks at me then turns toward an alarm box on the wall and pushes a series of buttons. When the locks to the doors click, he reaches over and opens a door, peering out first before stepping outside.

I follow him out, folding my arms around myself as the chilly night air nips at my skin. Then I peer around in awe at the wraparound porch lined with wide columns and the driveway that curves around in front and leads to a tall, iron, gated entrance.

"This place is so freakin' huge," I mutter as I follow Zay off the porch and to a dark car with tinted windows parked in the arched driveway just in front of the house. Then I turn back around to get a good look at the place.

It's dark, but several porch lights are on, so I can still take in the two-story mansion lined with shutters and one of the biggest garages I've ever seen.

"It looks better in the daylight," Zay says, observing me observing the house. "But the best part about it is its seclusion."

I glance back at him. "Yeah, you guys seem to like your privacy. I guess I can kind of understand why. Well, sort of. I'm still a little bit confused about this whole five mafia families' thing. I mean, are all of you like rivals with each other? Or do you work together?"

Zay snorts a laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "We definitely don't work together. But we're not entirely rivals either. We just have a..." He wavers. "A mutual understanding, I guess is the best way to describe it. And as long as one of the groups doesn't do anything to piss off another, everything is fine. Unfortunately, a lot of us get off on pissing people off."

"I'm guessing you're one of those people," I say with a conniving grin.

He raises his brows insinuatingly. "Like you're not."

I give a shrug. "I never said I wasn't."

He shakes his head. "I think you're going to drive me crazy. I really do."

"Going to?" I question. "I thought we were already there?"

He shakes his head again, stepping closer to me. "You know, you're the first person to talk to me this way in a long time, and I have no damn idea what to do with it." His confession throws me off. So is the way that he's staring at me, like I'm a complicated puzzle he's unsure how to solve—or if he even wants to solve. But then he blinks and puts on a neutral expression. "There's still a ton of other stuff I—we need to explain to you, but I don't have time to do that right now." He opens the back door to the car, indicating that my time with him is up. "Tomorrow, though, we'll all sit down and have a talk. Then you can take the pact."

"Sure." I force a smile, completely doubtful that'll happen. Because, deep down, I know something will happen that'll make them change their minds about bringing me into their group. That's how it always works for me. Every single time.

I move to get into the car, when he captures my arm.

"Why did you sound so doubtful about that?" he questions, his eyes shadows against the darkness.

"I didn't," I lie.

"No, you did. And I want to know why," he demands, taking an intimidating step toward me.

I roll my eyes. "Didn't I already tell you that you're not as scary as you think you are?"

"That's because I haven't even tried to be scary yet." He slides his hand up my arm then pulls me closer, his fingers trembling a bit. "Now tell me why you sounded doubtful about us sitting down and talking with you tomorrow." He's trying to act scary, but the way he quivers makes me feel almost sorry for him.

He hates being touched. And I can barely remember what it feels like.

"I just don't think it's going to happen," I say. "I think, by tomorrow, you guys are going to realize you don't really want me in your circle and that's gonna be that."

"So you think we're going to dump you?"

"Yeah, pretty much. But it's cool. Like I said before, I do better alone."

He silently stares at me, a cool breeze gusting around us. "It's going to be fun proving you wrong." He releases my arm, steps back, then gestures for me to get in. "I'll see you tomorrow, princess." He aims one last smirk at me then hikes toward the front doors.

Looking away, I climb into the car and shut the door. The driver, an older guy with grey hair, greets me with a smile but doesn't ask me where I need to go, driving forward toward the gate.

"Do you need my address?" I sit back in the seat and stretch out my legs.

"No, Mr. Capperellie gave me the direction," he replies, pushing a few buttons on his GPS. "You just sit back and relax."

I highly doubt I'm going to be able to do that with how wired I feel. Still, I rest my head against the window and watch the fields pass by in a blur as we drive down the hill and toward town. It takes us at least twenty minutes to get there, and by the time we're pulling up into my driveway, exhaustion has crept up on me.

"Thanks for the ride," I tell the driver as I reach for the door handle.

"You're welcome." Then he reaches over the seat and hands me a card. "If you ever need a ride anywhere, just call me. Mr. Capperellie has already informed me that I'm to drive you anywhere you need at any time of the day."

"You mean Jax?" I make sure since Zay's last name is the same.

"Or Zay." He urges me to take the card. I do, confusion whisking through me as I glance at it. All that's written on it is a phone number.

Why would Jax have him give this to me? It doesn't make any sense.

"Just dial that number," he tells me. "That's all you need to do."

"Okay." I fold my fingers around the card. "Do you have a name at least?"

He smiles warmly. "It's Zee."

Right. I remember one of the guys mentioning that.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Zee." I reach over and offer him my hand to shake. "I'm Raven."

He puts his hand in mine. "It's nice to meet you, Raven. I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other now that you've joined Mr. Capperellie's circle."

Again, I'm not sure if he's referring to Jax or Zay.

"Yeah," is all I say, my head spinning in confusion as I push open the door. "Thanks for the ride." I wave then climb out, feeling completely... Well, I'm not sure there's a word that fits how I feel right now.

Totally mystified. Freaked out. Baffled. Yeah, those might work.

Stuffing the card into my pocket, I hike toward the front door of my house and decide to shove thoughts of the guys aside for now since I'm sure I'm about to get my ass chewed out for mouthing off this morning. Plus, I never did give Dixie May her stupid makeup case.

"All right, Raven, this is going to go a heck of a lot better if you just keep your mouth shut," I give myself a pep talk, hoping for once I can listen to myself and keep my lips zipped.

Taking a breath, I open the front door and enter the house. The instant I step over the threshold, my guard goes up. All of the lights are off in the house, except for the hallway lights upstairs. The air is quiet, too.

Where is everyone? Did they go out for a family dinner or something?

I smile at the thought as I step inside, shut the door, and head for the stairway. If I can pretend to be asleep by the time they get home, I might be able to get away without a lecture and a punishment until at least morning.

But my smile fades the instant I enter my room and my gaze falls to my bed. The lamp is on, revealing the stash of drugs that I stole from my uncle scattered across the mattress

_Shit._

I spin around to run, but my uncle steps out from behind the door and blocks my path, anger blazing in his eyes.

"So you thought you could steal from me, huh?" He crosses his arms and stares me down.

He's not a very tall man, which is strange since my dad was really tall. But he's bulky and has a mean right hook—that I know. He's also still dressed in his sheriff uniform even though he's probably been off work for a couple of hours. He wears it, though, when he's trying to intimidate me. I don't know why he thinks it does, though.

"I didn't steal that from you." My voice comes out even. I've learned not to show fear when he gets like this. That it only seems to rile him up more. "That's stuff I bought." Yeah, I'm basically admitting that I bought drugs, but I'd rather have him believe that than know I stole from him.

He gives a hollow laugh as he steps toward me while reaching back for the door. "How stupid do you think I am, Raven? I'm well aware that you've been stealing from me. But do you want to know what pisses me off even more?"

I bite down on my tongue until I taste blood, resisting the urge to throw out some snarky remark.

He slowly closes the door, then _click_ , he locks it. "That you know a little secret of mine."

I push down the fear wanting to emerge inside me, let out a slow breath, and inch back. "I don't know anything."

"Liar." He matches my move, stepping forward and stealing the distance I put between us. "You've always been good at that—being a lying cunt." He steps toward me again, his fingers drifting toward his holster. "Remind me. Have I marked you with that word yet? Sometimes it's hard to remember with all the marks I've put on you already." He pulls out his knife and flips the blade open. "You make it so easy, though, with that mouth of yours. It's like you like me cutting you up."

_Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in..._

_Exhale._

"Look, I'm sorry for stealing your drugs. I don't know why I did it, but I'll stop. And I won't tell anyone about the stash you have. I'm a lot of things, but you know I'm not a narc."

He lightly traces his finger along the edge of the blade. "You know the only way I can get you to listen is to punish you. It's the only way to get you to obey me."

He always says this to me, but it never makes any sense since I rarely obey anyway. In reality, I wonder if he gets off on this, on seeing me in pain, which is so messed up.

"I'll start behaving better," I lie, the backs of my legs bumping against the bed as I take another step back.

_Shit_. I'm cornered, but I refuse to allow myself to panic.

_Numb, Raven. Tune out that fear._

He shakes his head. "Don't lie to me again, Raven."

"I'm not lying, " I insist. "I promise. Just please don't cut me again."

His eyes flicker with delight for who the hell knows why. Then he reaches out and grabs my wrist. "You know I can do this. You know we have rules in my house."

"Why am I the only one who has to follow them?" I growl out, jerking on my arm. "Let go of me, you fucking asshole."

A sinister grin curls at his lips. "And there she is." He shoves me down on the bed. "I don't know why you always try to pretend like you're obedient in the beginning. It never lasts. And you want to know why?"

I move to climb off the bed, but he wrestles me down, climbing on top of me and pinning me down. "Get off me!" I scream. "Now—"

He smacks me so hard my ears ring. Then he pins my hands down beside my head, leaning in and breathing into my face, "Because you're just like your stupid mother. You're a spoiled little brat who thinks you can do whatever she wants."

"Shut up!" I scream, tears pooling in my eyes.

"Aw, am I hurting your feelings? Well, good." Pinning both my hands in one of his, he leans back and lifts the hem of my shirt. "The next time you even think about trying to steal from me, you look down at this and remember." He points the tip of the blade at my side and nicks my skin, causing blood to pool out. "Remember what you are."

Then he starts cutting, moving the blade over my flesh. I barely feel the pain, though. I've become numb to this. Numb to everything. Almost.

My thoughts drift to the card in my pocket. If I had a phone, I could try to call the number. But I'm still not sure anyone would show up if I did. And I don't need to start relying on people only to be let down. I've done that before. Many times. I don't think I have anything left in me to deal with it again.

"You're quiet tonight," my uncle remarks as he climbs off me.

Droplets of blood are on the blade of his knife and his hands. My blood.

_Blood all over my hands and anger searing through my veins, consuming my mind._

"Got nothing to say?" My uncle stands by my bed, staring down at me with expectancy.

I stare at the ceiling, not moving, refusing to say a word.

"Looks like it worked then." He wipes the blade of his knife across the side of his pant leg, cleaning off the blood. Then he puts the knife away and looks at me again, waiting for something. When I make no effort to even budge, he shakes his head. "Whatever. At least I got you to shut up." He turns around and storms for the door. "Don't ever touch any of my shit again," he snaps then walks out of my room, slamming the door behind him.

I don't move. Barely breathe.

_I don't want to be here._

_I want to fade away._

_Why couldn't that water have swept me away with it?_

After what feels like hours, I drag myself off the bed and walk over to the mirror to see the damage. My side feels like it's on fire as I lift up the hem of my blood-stained shirt and peer at the newly marked word branding my flesh. Then I shake my head, my jaw ticking.

_He didn't only carve one word into my flesh, but three._

_Disappointment._

_Invisible._

_Forgotten._

I lower my shirt then sink down onto my bed, sitting in the middle of my drug stash that he just left in here, probably trying to send me some sort of cryptic message—my uncle really likes his minds games. What the message is, I haven't got a clue. And I really don't care.

Shoving the drugs out of the way, I lie down and close my eyes, trying not to think of anything. But my thoughts drift to The Raven Three again. While I'm skeptical that they'll associate with me tomorrow, a tiny part of me can't help hoping that maybe, just maybe, I won't be let down for once. That we'll have our talk. That they'll make good on their promise and take care of my uncle.

That I'll get my revenge.
14

# Jax

"Do you think she got home okay?" Hunter asks as I drive us toward my father's house that's located on the other side of town.

Ever since we left our house, he's been rambling on and on about the girl with hair like raven feathers, the girl who pushed her way into our lives today.

"I think it's time to talk about the rest of the rules," I say as I steer down the dark, desolate street lined with trees. While I have nothing against Raven, I'm not about to let Hunter become obsessed with her, for several different reasons, one being it could complicate this whole addition-to-our-circle-thing.

"I second that," Zay mutters from the backseat.

He has his sleeves tugged down and is rippling with tension. And while the situation probably has him wound up, I worry he might be cutting again.

He used to do it a lot, but has been better lately. Today, was an emotionally intense day, though, and Zay doesn't handle emotions very well. Whenever things get too chaotic or intense, he replaces whatever's going on inside him by bleeding it out of him or someone else.

Hunter turns around in the passenger seat to look at Zay. "What's your deal today? This is the second time you've tried to pretend you're all about the rules, but we all know you're not."

Zay slants forward and rests his arms on his knees. "If we bring Raven into the group and you fuck her, it's going to cause drama. And I hate drama more than I hate rules."

Hunter rolls his eyes. "Newsflash, brother: you're the walking definition of drama."

"Not girl drama," he stresses. "That's your thing."

True. Hunter has been sleeping around since he turned thirteen and has never been with one girl more than once. But he has some deep, dark issues; ones that Zay and I are aware of, but no one else knows.

And Zay is the exact opposite of Hunter in every way. He never sleeps around; can barely stand being touched, which is another reason I'm worried he might have cut today—because of how much touching he did with the raven that fell into our lives.

But bringing it up with him is a complication. I know he'll get pissed and probably throw my own issues into my face, which is part of the reason I'm not going to bring it up right now. The other reason is we all need a clear head right now. We need our masks on, the ones we put on when we're around anyone else but each other. It's how we keep our secrets a secret.

We've done a lot to make sure no one finds that out about who we really are. We've told lies and spread rumors to bury who we are.

It's what we do. Have each other's backs no matter what. Make sure no one knows our weakness so they can't use them against us. This is how it's been since we were old enough to realize how screwed up our families are. Then, when we turned twelve, we created The Raven Three just to set in stone who are and who we vow to be. It also a way to protect ourselves from all the evils in this town. And that's how things have been since then. Just us three.

Until today, when Raven jumped off that damn bridge.

The three of us made a vow a long time ago that if anyone were ever brave enough to jump off the bridge, we'd bring them into our circle. Mostly it was just a joke and we never thought anyone would actually do it because to do it, you've got to be either a total adrenaline junkie or completely messed up in the head. We never thought some beautiful, scarred girl with the saddest eyes I've ever seen would be the one to do it.

But it's not like we had to make her one of us just because we made some vow forever ago. We could've easily not told her after Zay pulled her out of the river. We could've just driven her home, but something about her sad eyes, the scars, her defiance, the loneliness seeping from her, the stuff Zay found out about her... She's almost as fucked up as us and that made us want to bring her into our group.

But bringing a female into our group could complicate things, which is why we need rules. I just hope everyone will follow them, but none of us have ever been good at following rules.

As Zay and Hunter continue to argue, I focus on setting more rules. "We have the rule I set earlier when Raven was around, but I want to make another rule for just us that kind of goes with that one. So rule number two is no sleeping with her."

"That doesn't sound fun at all," Hunter gripes, twisting back around in the seat.

"Rules aren't meant to be fun," I say as I slow down the car to make a turn. "Rule number three: no fighting over her. If there's something that needs to be addressed that has to do with her, we'll discuss it privately. I know that technically we're going to bring her into our circle, but when it all comes down to it, if there're any problems, it'll end with just us three. Got it?"

Hunter melodramatically rolls his eyes. "Whatever, big brother. I get that you're totally bossy." When I continue to stare him down, he adds, "Fine, I got it. We come before her."

"Good." I glance at Zay in the rearview mirror. "What about you?"

He gives a nonchalant shrug, his hand resting on his arm where more than likely he cut himself. "You guys are more important to me than some girl will ever be."

For the most part, I believe him. Except one small thing makes me hesitant. Zay saved her today, which was weird but not completely out of the realm of reality. No, what was completely insane was that he was the one to share his body heat with her. He said he had to do it because he was cold, but I think, deep down, he feels slightly connected to Raven because of her scars. Zay has scars too that run deep, both invisible ones and ones that mark his flesh.

But while he said he could handle it, it's pretty fucking clear he couldn't, since he's cradling his arm now.

He probably cut a little too deep.

Fuck, this isn't good.

And I want to say something to him, but again, remind myself that now isn't the time.

When I don't say anything, Zay glares at me. "If I say I got it, then I got it," he snaps, slumping back in the seat.

"Okay." I let it drop for now and direct my attention back to the road. "And rule number four—"

"God, there's another one?" Hunter groans, pinching the brim of his nose.

I ignore him, continuing, "We need to look more into her past. Zay, I know you got some information on her, but I want to know everything about her." I flip on the blinker to make a turn onto a driveway. "If we're going to let her into our inner circle, we need to make sure she is who she says she is. Because, if she ends up somehow tied to one of our enemies, she could mess up our freedom waiting for us at the end of the school year. And that's not something I'm willing to risk just to help some girl make it through a year here. I'll feed her to the wolves if it means we get our freedom, understand?"

"That's harsh, man," Hunter mutters.

"Harsh is what I need to be," I say, feeling a hint of guilt over what I'm saying, but I shove it down with the rest of my feelings.

Feelings I never let out. It's what I've been trained to do. To bottle up everything inside me. To be in control. I spent a lot of my childhood not being in control, my father controlling my every move. When Zay, Hunter, and I moved in together and I got a taste of freedom, I took all of the control back that was taken from me. Now, I'm the one that does the controlling.

Hunter heaves a sigh. "Yeah, I get what you're saying. We come first. We always have."

As silence skips by, I glance back at Zay. "You good with these rules and looking into her more?" I ask as I slow to a stop in front of the gate to my father's three-story house.

All the porch lights are on, lighting up the night, yet the place carries so much darkness for me.

Zay nods, but for a crazy second, I swear I see him hesitate.

_What the hell?_

"You didn't find something out about her already, did you?" I question as I put the car into park, but I don't buzz us in right away.

Instead I take out my flask and down a few gulps, knowing I'm going to need it to stay calm. Because I need to stay calm or else I'll lose control. And when I lose control bad shit happens, which is why I'll do anything not to lose my control.

Zay wavers. "The place Raven and her family lived when she was younger was in Kingsley's territory, but I couldn't find any connection between them and Raven's family, so I think it's okay. Plus, her last name is Wilowwynter, which I've never heard of before."

"I hope so. But we should look into it more just to be safe." Because if Raven is somehow connected to the Kingsley name, she's definitely not going to be a part of our circle since the Kingsleys are the Capperellies' number one and pretty much only constant rival.

The used to be a part of our town until they moved to the city. It was right after... Well, this thing we refer to a "The Game" stopped happening. We still have no association with them, and it's an unsaid rule that if you do, you'll be punished.

But all my worries about Raven dissipate as the gates open. They're technically the gates to my father's place, but for me, Hunter, and Zay, they feel more like the gates to Hell.
15

# Hunter

Jax and his stupid rules. It's driving me crazy. Yeah, I get that he's always kind of been the "boss" of our group, but only because he likes to boss everyone around. We don't technically have a leader, and it's worked for us since none of us have ever been good at following rules.

When we were younger, we used to get in trouble all the time. We still do, but I've learned how to sweet-talk my way out of stuff, like this morning with Mrs. Elmford, the secretary at the high school. No matter how many times she acts like she's going to turn down my request for a pass to get out of class, she always ends up giving me one. Every single time. It's why I was so thrown off when I tried to flirt with Raven in the office and she basically turned me down. Not that I ever gave up. No, I'm pretty damn persistent, especially when I meet the most amusing, gorgeous girl I've ever seen.

For the most part, I like that I'm this way—can charm anyone—but when things get serious, I struggle to keep the darkness inside me. It happens occasionally, and I've had a few breakdowns. Jax and Zay have seen me at some of my worst moments, and it wasn't pretty. But nothing about my life has been pretty.

Darkness has mostly surrounded me. The few exceptions were when I was around Zay and Jax. They're the reason I escaped the darkness—escaped my father and and his games. __ And escaped _her_. My stepmother, who is still my stepmother, but I rarely see her. At least when I get my way. But tonight, things don't seem to be going my way, something I realize as Jax, Zay, and I enter the spacious meeting room in his father's house.

A long, mahogany table runs up the center of the room in front of a fireplace, surrounded by chairs and surveillance cameras. And sitting in one of the chairs is Diane, my wicked witch of a wench stepmother.

She's wearing a red dress, a leather jacket, and a diamond necklace. If I didn't know better, I'd guess she was going out clubbing, but this is how she always looks—overly dressed with sparkly things decorating her. She's kind of a sparkly thing herself, being about fifteen years younger than my father. The only reason she married him was for his money and power. She doesn't love him, doesn't care that he sleeps around, doesn't care about anything except what she wants. And she'll do anything to get it.

Anything.

"Boys," she greets us, her eyes lingering on me. My stomach churns when she smiles at me.

I hate when she looks at me. I often dream about a day when I can gouge out her eyes so she can never look at anyone again. But my father has made a rule that she's off limits, and if we break any of our fathers' rules right now, Jax, Zay, and I aren't getting out of this hell at the end of our senior year. And we want out more than we want anything else.

_I really should've done a line before we left, but we were in rush._

_But fuck, I can't deal with this—her—with a clear head._

"Why're you here?" Zay glares at her as he sinks down into a chair.

She flips her red hair off her shoulder. "I've been summoned on behalf of your bosses. They wanted to speak to you themselves, but they had other things that needed to be taken care of tonight."

The bosses are our dads, but we refer to Jax's dad, the leader, as The Boss. They're all straight-up crazy and not anyone you want to piss off.

"Whatever," Zay mumbles while Jax takes a seat at the head of the table.

Me? I stay in the doorway.

When Diane notices, she crooks a manicured finger at me. "Come sit down, sweetie. There's some things I need to discuss with all of you."

My jaw ticks. "I fucking told you not to call me that."

"Call you what?" she feigns dumb, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh, shut the hell up. You know exactly what I mean." As anger sears under my skin, she grins, getting off on it.

"That's enough," Jax interrupts, his intimidating gaze zeroing in on Diane. Then he leans over, pulls his gun out from his ankle holster, and sets it down on the table. "I'm going to tell you this once and only once. Stop wasting my time and tell us the message you have for us. And don't look at Hunter. Look at the fireplace and nothing else. If you don't, I'll break those painted fingers of yours right off your hands."

She glares at him. "How dare you talk to me like that? When your father hears about this—"

Jax cuts her off with a dark laugh. "If you think my father gives a shit about you, then you're stupider than I thought." He uses his gun to point at the fireplace. "Now look over there and let's get this over with. I've got other shit to do tonight."

Gritting her teeth, Diane glares at the fireplace.

A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips. Jax may sometimes piss me off, but no one has my back like he does.

But then my mood instantly nosedives when Diane says, "Your bosses, especially The Boss, want me to talk to you guys about the new sheriff and his family."

Yeah, I definitely should've done a line before we left the house. But I didn't so now I'm stuck dealing with whatever's about to happen without numbing bliss consuming my mind.
16

# Zay

For once, I'm not the only one riled up. Hunter has been practically crawling out of his skin since he saw Diane in the meeting room. I don't blame him, though, for acting this way. The woman is more messed up in the head than almost everyone I've ever met, right next to my dad.

The scars my dad put on my body... the things he used to do to me... they still scar my mind and body. It's why I can barely stand touching or getting touched by anyone, which is why no one can make sense out of why I decided to hold Raven's cold body against mine. I can't even make sense of it.

All I know is that, when she jumped, something broke inside me. I was reminded of the day I stood up on the roof of my father's building with thoughts of jumping. The only reason my feet never left the roof was because Jax and Hunter found me and talked me out of it.

They've always been there for me, and part of me wonders if I'd still be here if I didn't have them in my life.

Some of the stuff Raven said... about being alone... the scars on her wrist and side I noticed when I held her... the pain she must feel... I can relate to it too much. Both the emotional pain of it and the physical. In fact, I can feel the physical pain of it right now, burning on my flesh as the fresh wounds that cover my arms rub against the inside of the sleeve of my shirt.

It's been a while since I've cut, but when we arrived home after spending the entire drive with my bare chest against Raven's, I was beyond worked up. My head was a mess, and either I was gonna have to beat the shit out of someone, or cut the shit out of myself. Since no one was around to be my punching bag, I settled on the latter. And I felt better for a while, but now... being here... I'm all worked up again.

"What about the sheriff?" Jax asks, wrenching me from my thoughts of my internal misery.

Diane continues to stare at the fire while restlessly thrumming her fingers against the table. "The Boss wants you to find out more about him. He wants to know his weaknesses—stuff he can use against him if he can't be bought off." She crosses her legs. "He also wants to know more about his family. From what he understands, he has a daughter around you guys' age. He also has a niece who lives with him that's around your age, too. And he wants info about why she's living with him. And I'm not talking about the basic stuff you can learn from rumors. He wants inside information about the living situation and inside info about the girl, which means you three are going to have to get close to her."

I stiffen. Why do our bosses want to know about Raven...? Does it have to do with me feeling like I know her?

_Fuck, what the hell is going on?_

Jax trades a cautious look with Hunter and me before looking back at Diane. "Why does he want to know about the sheriff's niece? I can understand wanting to know more about the sheriff, but why bring this girl into it?"

Diane lifts a shoulder. "How the hell should I know? I'm just here to repeat the message and give you instructions." She rises to her feet, still staring at the fire as she crosses the room toward the doorway. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to do besides playing babysitter for you spoiled brats. Just make sure you do what the bosses want."

Hunter sidesteps from the doorway as she nears him. Then his fingers curl into fists as she slips a smile in his direction before walking out of the room.

"She's such a crazy bitch," Hunter mumbles through a shaky exhale.

"She is," Jax agrees, drumming his fingers against the table with his thinking face on.

I know where his thoughts are. Or, well, I have a pretty good idea.

I shove the sleeves of my shirt up and rest my arms on top of the table. "Why do you think the bosses want to know more about Raven?"

Jax shrugs, glancing at me. "I have no idea, but I'm sure it's not for something good."

"I know." I give a considering pause. "So, what're we going to do?"

Jax shrugs again. "What we have to do."

Hunter frowns. "We can't just throw Raven under the bus like this."

"I'm not saying we're going to," Jax tells him, reclining back in the chair. "But we were already going to look into her. Now we're just doing it for him and for us."

Hunter's lips part in protest, but Jax elevates his hand, silencing him.

"You know our deal with the bosses," Jax reminds him. "If we don't do what they ask for the next six months, we'll end up buried in this town. Is that what you want? To be stuck here, seeing Diane all the time? To be stuck in a down that's splattered with tainted memories?

Hunter reluctantly shakes his head. "No."

"Okay then." Jax lowers his hand.

"But Raven's one of us now," Hunter says, crossing the room and sitting down at the table. "We're breaking the rules if we do something that'll hurt her. Plus, we're supposed to be taking care of her uncle for her. How are we going to do that if the bosses want us looking into him more?"

"We'll still take care of him. We'll just have to be more subtle about it than I was planning." He slips his gun back into his ankle holster. "And we're not going to hurt Raven. We're just going to get to know her and find out more about her. And from what Zay said, there's not really much to look into anyway." He looks at me, his brow arching. "Right?"

I nod. For the most part, I'm telling the truth, except for two small things. One being that I feel like I know Raven from somewhere. I'm not sure why, but I want to keep that to myself for now, which is weird because I rarely keep things from Jax and Hunter. I haven't told them the other thing yet, because I knew Jax would worry about it, and he needed a clear head while we were at his father's place. I didn't realize Diane was the only one who was going to be here. If I had known, I would've been more worried about Hunter.

"There is one other thing," I say. "I couldn't find any info on Raven up until the age of five. Before that, it's like she didn't exist. So, either her family was living off the radar—which leaves me asking _why_ —or she wasn't with her family up until that point. Again: why?"

A drop of worry flickers in Jax's and Hunter's eyes as we all trade a look. I'm guessing we're all having similar thoughts.

Just who is Ravenlee Wilowwynter?

I want to find out the answer more than I probably should.

# About the Author

Jessica Sorensen is a _New York Times_ and _USA Today_ bestselling author who lives in the snowy mountains of Wyoming. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.

# Also by Jessica Sorensen

**The Falling Series:**

The Falling of Raven

The Falling of You and Me

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Guardian Academy Series:**

Entranced

Entangled

Enchanted

Entice

Charmed

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Monster Academy for the Magical:**

Monster Academy for the Magical

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Deadly Four

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Trial

Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Clique

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Harlynn's Mystery Investigations:**

Sugar Cookies & Zombie Secrets

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Sunnyvale Mysteries:**

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Alexis Files:**

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**My Life with the Band:**

Discovering Benton

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Mysteries of Star Grove**

Suspicion

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Rebels & Misfits Detectives:**

Spies, Lies, & Cupcakes

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Lexi Ashford Series:**

The Diary of Lexi Ashford

The Diary of Lexi Ashford: The Agreement

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Enchanted Detectives Series:**

Enchanted Chaos

Charmed Chaos

Entangled Chaos

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**My Cursed Superhero Life:**

Cursed

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Honeyton Mysteries:**

Chasing Hadley

The Deal & a Secret

The Mystery & a Kiss

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Heartbreaker Society:**

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Tangled Realms:**

Forever Violet

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Curse of the Vampire Queen:**

Tempting Raven

Enchanting Raven

Alluring Raven

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**The Unraveling Mysteries Series:**

The Mysterious Guy Next Door

The Mystery of the Symbol

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**A Pact Between the Forgotten:**

The Art of Being Friends

The Rules of Being Friends (coming soon)

* * *

**Shadow Cove Series:**

What Lies in the Darkness

What Lies in the Dark

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Mystic Willow Bay Series:**

The Secret Life of a Witch

Broken Magic

Stolen Kisses

One Wild, Crazy, Zombie Night

Magical Whispers & the Undead

Untitled (coming soon)

* * *

**Standalones:**

The Forgotten Girl

Wreck Me

Ruin Me

* * *

**The Coincidence Series:**

The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden

The Redemption of Callie and Kayden

The Destiny of Violet and Luke

The Probability of Violet and Luke

The Certainty of Violet and Luke

The Resolution of Callie and Kayden

Seth & Greyson

* * *

**The Secret Series:**

The Prelude of Ella and Micha

The Secret of Ella and Micha

The Forever of Ella and Micha

The Temptation of Lila and Ethan

The Ever After of Ella and Micha

Lila and Ethan: Forever and Always

Ella and Micha: Infinitely and Always

* * *

**The Shattered Promises Series:**

Shattered Promises

Fractured Souls

Unbroken

Broken Visions

Scattered Ashes

* * *

**Breaking Nova Series:**

Breaking Nova

Saving Quinton

Delilah: The Making of Red

Nova and Quinton: No Regrets

Tristan: Finding Hope

* * *

**The Fallen Star Series:**

The Fallen Star

The Underworld

The Vision

The Promise

The Lost Soul

The Evanescence

The Mist of Stars (untitled)

* * *

**The Darkness Falls Series:**

Darkness Falls

Darkness Breaks

Darkness Fades

* * *

**The Death Collectors Series (NA and YA):**

Ember X and Ember

Cinder X and Cinder

Spark X and Spark

* * *

**Unbeautiful Series:**

Unbeautiful

Untamed
