Chapter Eight

Kieran

Fox entered the dark living room like a ghost. Not even the dim light exposed his shadow. Focused, he moved with fluid movements as if the very air molecules around him bent light, so he'd be undetected. Fox and I had been friends since we were twelve-year-old brats in Arcadia Middle School. He'd been tall and limber, while I'd been short and focused. He was the chaos wrapped in my precision. And he was beautiful to watch when set loose.

The guy in his way never stood a chance.

Like the angel of death, Fox spread his wings and with one hand, he clamped the guy's mouth, lifting his chin and stabbed his carotid all in the same motion. The guy's eyes widened as the back of his head fell against Fox's shoulder. His hands cupped Fox's hips until he gave up and dropped them to his sides. Not moving.

"You're dead, motherfucker," I whispered and covered his mouth with duct tape. The guy didn't move. Didn't make a sound. I winked at him and followed Fox.

As team lead, I knew my team's strengths and weaknesses. River and Wren worked well together. While River had a penchant for safety, checking corners and shadows, Wren moved like Fox. Ghosts. Wren could sweep this place on his own, and that was the problem when setting him loose. River kept him grounded, so I made sure to keep them together.

River and I moved like the wind, and like the wind, our presence could be detected if we weren't careful. River and I also lacked patience. While my patience waned with the anticipation of a fight, River's patience began and ended within Wren's headspace. If this were a legitimate operation, the mission would take priority over collateral damage. We weren't the good guys. We'd never be the good guys. Collateral damage was a thing we thought little about. We always went in stealthy but weren't afraid of the chaos when there wasn't another option.

While River and I had the bulky guns, Wren and Fox preferred blades.

"Two down," I whispered into comms.

"Floor one cleared," River responded. "Moving to two."

Time to go up, I tapped Fox's shoulder twice.

The house was old, the walls thin, and the area too damn quiet. "Check the floorboards," I whispered on comms. "Walls thin."

"Copy," River whispered back.

As if I'd just called out the old house, Fox took a step and froze. I heard the push against the old board. The rusty nails grinding. A soft sound that could've been mistaken as the house settling by someone less experienced. A door lay about five feet to our left. I'd bet my first born that Ashton waited beyond that wall and Ashton wouldn't be quiet. The fucker didn't care about his team. He wanted me. It may have been because how I left his sister in tears Friday night.

Not my fault.

I knew what Ashlee was trying to do with Tomás. It had worked but not the way she had hoped. I couldn't get my eyes off Tomás. And watching him dry hump her, with their mouths fused, had drawn something dangerous out of me. Something toxic that I hadn't felt ever. Despite the faceless, nameless sins I'd dropped inside my soul, I'd never felt this need to dominate before. To control. To ravage. I'd always maintained a certain distance from anything remotely emotional. I'd learned to control my feelings. To desensitize myself from guilt, blame, death. Other emotions like anger, fear, sadness, jealousy, loneliness, love, did not fall within the scope of my range. I'd regulated all that shit to the point where I'd become a numb shell with only basic instincts and needs. Eat, drink, plan the demise of my enemies, and survive. I did not have sex without forethought. Every girl I'd taken to bed, kissed, talked to had been precisely planned. Every person, even my brothers, had been vetted to serve a purpose.

But not Tomás. My beautiful dark temptation.

Dancing close to Tomás had been dangerous. Fortunately, he had left before I lost my shit. I had no desire to stay with Ashlee afterward. She hadn't been happy. I didn't care. We'd messed around a few times, but that shit had been over for weeks. And so, here we were with Ashton, her brother, pissed as all hell. But pissed off idiots always made mistakes.

Don't underestimate your opponent. Never assume the trap will work. Always, always have a plan B.

I showed Fox five fingers. He nodded.

I tapped comms five times and got a two-tap reply.

In five, we'd breach the silence. I got one tap from River.

Then I started the countdown. One. I moved around Fox taking care not to step on the same floorboard. It put me near the door. Two. I readied my weapon. Three. I made sure Fox was ready. He nodded. Four. I stood in front of the door. Five. I kicked the door open. In real life this would not have worked. Doors are not that easily broken, but the locking mechanism was fake, and the door was hollow like the wall.

The door slammed inward, and I knew he was behind it. I launched inside in a roll, came up, and shot him center mass even before he got me in his sights. If this were real life, his intestines would've been spilling toxic shit into his body. The clock ticking away his life.

This was not real life and he launched himself at me.

I heard other pop shots outside, and the thought of anything happening to my brothers because of this piece of shit asshole made my blood rise. I caught him with an elbow to his chin before he could land a strike. His knee dug into my stomach, and I slapped him away, gave him an upper cut with the air tank of the paintball gun. I heard his teeth gnash together and a grunt. The idiot would feel that in a few hours. I kicked his feet out from under him and kicked him again for good measure.

"You're dead, asshole," I grunted.

Apparently not. He squirmed under me. If this were real life, I would've knocked his teeth in. This wasn't. I kicked again, turned him over, and planted my knee on his back.

"Tap out or you're going to lose the ability to walk again," I warned, pressing my knee deeper into his spine. I couldn't kill him within school grounds, but I could disable him, permanently.

He knocked twice on the floor. I waited a few seconds before I got off him and went to check on my team. My mission was to clear the floor, not to wipe this bitch with my fists. I left him there and swept into the hallway, breathing hard. Wren, River, and Fox were leaning on the wall. Wren was acting like he was shaving his nails with his blade. River was whistling. And Fox had his eyes closed, snoring.

"Fuckers," I mumbled.

"Oh, you done with the princess in there, because if you needed help…"

I gave them all my middle finger just as the lights turned on.

I hated this part.

We all descended the stairs back to the first level just as the door opened. Mr. Fahey led an entourage of students into the mock living room. He'd once been a SEAL. Aged, like leather, he still could commandeer a room. His left eye twitched. A consequence of drug use, the reason he'd been termed from the military, though honorably discharged. We had dossiers on all the teachers here, and most of the students. Henry was good at digging shit up.

I respected Fahey, but he still creeped me out. I was sure he'd be just as comfortable praising us as putting a bullet in our skull. "As always, impressive," he said. "Now." He turned to the students behind him. They had watched the whole thing on camera in a separate room. "The Arcas team is the best we've seen. I want you to study their formation on video for closed quarters extraction and write up a usable report. And remember," he added as the noise level started to increase. "The games begin next week. If you want to challenge the defenders, add your team by the end of the week." He clapped some more, and the class started to disperse.

"Why do I always feel like stabbing his eyeball?" Fox glared at Fahey's back because he'd never do it to his face. The man was capable of yanking Fox's eyeball out with his fingers.

"It's that twitch," Wren said, pointing at his own twitchy eye.

Fox pushed him out of his way as Wren started to laugh. Just then, Ashton walked down the stairs, glowering, rubbing his chin. Pain in his expression and he looked like he'd been crying.

"Next time stay dead," I warned. I kept him in my peripherals. Fuck if I was going to allow him a pop shot.

He sneered, maybe growled. Who cared?

I headed out of the mock house jittery as fuck. My blood sugar shocked to all hell. Fox walked behind me. The war games were an important distinction of Arcadia University. There were weapons training, strategy games, team combat training, endurance trainings, anything and everything you can think of in order to survive an op. We weren't military, but it was good to learn their tactics. This semester, the game Fahey was referencing was capture the flag. And The Ark Boys were the defenders.

I was almost slammed into by someone rounding the corner. It wasn't until Fox stuck out his leg and tripped him that I realized it'd been Tomás and for the love of all the bastard gods, I wanted to catch him. Stop his fall. Because he fell hard. Like a cat, he managed to catch himself on his hands before he ate floor. I bit back the shit I wanted to tell Fox. Like leave him the fuck alone. Stop your petty ass bullshit. I was the only one allowed to mess with Tomás, no one else. I didn't do any of those things.

Tomás got to his feet and dusted his hands on his hoodie, glaring at Fox. Heat pooled into my lower belly. I took in every nuance of his expression. His lids lowered at half mast, nostrils flared, his lips tightened.

"Oops," Fox said.

"Asshole," Tomás grunted.

"What you say?"

"I called you a dick. A little dick," Tomás said. "Because we all know what bullies have between their legs, or what they don't have."

Fox started forward but I caught his arm. "We don't need this shit right now."

He pulled away from my grasp, glared at Tomás, and headed to the dressing room.

"You're going to want to watch that mouth of yours," I said and regretted it when my eyes lowered to his perfect, plump lips. He took that same moment to swipe his tongue along his bottom lip, leaving them wet. I snapped my attention back to his eyes. Not that it made me feel much better. That beautiful smile he wore made him so much more tempting. And the fucker must've known it. "I'm not going to always be here to protect you."

Tomás snorted. "Whatever," he said and headed to the group waiting for him including Ashlee and Ashton.

Son of a bitch.

I headed to the dressing room with a painful erection behind my pants and the need to pump Tomás full of bullets. Real bullets.