Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Lucas

It's four in the morning by the time everyone finally leaves Rush House, and not because they want to. They'd stay all damn weekend if we'd let them, but for the Sacred Sons, Rush House is home, and Jackson takes that shit very seriously. He likes having the place cleared out by three or four in the morning, even the chicks unless they're in one of our bedrooms with us.

I walk into the living room, where Jackson is playing a video game on the couch. "You're still up," I say. "Where are Ash and Christian?"

Jackson glances up at me briefly before returning his focus to his game. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"In my room," I answer. "Avoiding people."

Jackson snorts. "I heard about that shit with Kai last night. He's fucking pissed. "

I snort. "You sure about that? When I pulled him off Wyn, he actually apologized to me."

Jackson laughs. "Of course, he's going to apologize to your face. You're a Sacred Son. But behind your back, he's saying you were out of line."

"Whatever. Kai is an idiot."

"Well, he's not the only one pissed at you. Ava's been trying to get a hold of you all night."

Ava is my consort. At the start of every academic year, it's tradition for each of the Sacred Sons to choose a chick for the year. Technically, any chick can be chosen, but we usually make our selections from within the Burning Crown. It's a prized position in our world and comes with a fuck-ton of perks. For that reason, the competition is pretty cut-throat among the girls. Ava won my attention this year. Next year, it'll be someone else, but a carbon copy, because they're all the same.

I blow out a breath and drop onto the couch next to Jackson. "I don't have Ava's number programmed into my new phone, so her call probably went straight to voice mail."

A few weeks ago, the police stormed into Rush House with a warrant, and took my phone, my computer, and all of my electronics. So I've had to buy all new shit. According to my lawyer and Jackson's uncle, John McNight, the police think Gabriel's death may not have been a suicide. I guess a witness stepped forward, and said Gabriel was pushed onto the tracks. No idea whether or not that person named me, specifically, because the police won't say. But since I was the closest to Gabriel, I'm guessing that's why I'm a suspect.

"Oh, yeah, how's all that shit going? Any word from the police? When are they giving you your shit back?"

"Nope." I pull a hand down my face and sigh. "They refuse to tell John anything. I assume they're having my phone and computer analyzed, but God only knows how long that shit will take."

"You don't seem stressed about it."

Oh, fuck, yeah, I'm stressed. For a multitude of reasons, and the investigation against me is just one of them. "Your uncle is the best of the best. He has shit under control."

Jackson pauses and flashes me a probing look. "Do you need the best?"

I tilt my head to the side. "Are you asking me if I shoved my cousin into the path of an oncoming train?"

Jackson raises a dark brow. "I'd say you don't have it in you, but we both know that's a lie."

I nod. That's fair, I guess. As Sacred Sons, we've all had to kill people. It's just a fact of fucking life when you're in a secret society like ours. It's something we all accept before we take those vows at initiation.

But rather than answering his question, I look at Jackson squarely, throwing a question back at him. "Why would I hurt my own cousin?"

Jackson's attention is back on his game, and he's stabbing the controller viciously. He glances at me for a split second. "I mean, do I have to say it?"

Leaning back against the couch cushions, I throw my arm over the backrest. "I'd love to hear it."

"We all know you've had a thing for Wyn."

"I've had a thing for Wyn," I repeat incredulously, my stomach clenching tight. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Come on, man, ever since?—"

I cut him off by standing abruptly. "Whatever, dude. Wyn is just a chick. A piece of pussy. There's nothing special about her. Certainly nothing worth killing my cousin over."

He looks at me like, yeah, right, fucker . "Then why keep Kai away from her?"

Pushing out a breath, I head for the door. I don't like where this conversation is headed, and I'm not about to justify myself to anyone. "I'm going to bed."

Jackson's laughter follows me out the door. "Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, dude."

Shaking my head, I move down the hallway, and up the main staircase, taking the treads two at a time. My bedroom door is ajar, and I pause at the threshold. I know I closed it, and the fact that someone is ballsy enough to enter without my permission grates on my nerves.

As I step into the room, I see a shock of blond hair fanned out on my white pillowcase, and a swath of creamy thigh peeking out from beneath the sheet. I know it's impossible, but I imagine it's Wyn lying in my bed, waiting for me to fuck her until her pussy is bruised and raw.

But as I approach, I notice the hair is a shade too dark and the flash of thigh isn't quite thick enough. I pull the sheet back and see Ava lying naked and asleep.

"Fuck," I whisper to myself.

I've really got to have a talk with this chick. She's my consort, cool, but I told her from the start that I didn't want anything serious. She's been pushing to move in, and I've managed to stave off that conversation, but damn, a guy needs his space.

I consider waking her up and taking her home, but I know what that's going to lead to. Tears, questions about what I'm fucking feeling, and I just can't deal with that shit right now.

I grab a pillow and head downstairs to the study. The couch in the living room is more comfortable, but there are people in and out of that room constantly, so getting any sleep would be impossible. Not that I expect to sleep well tonight, anyway.

Once I'm in the study, I lock the door, strip down to my underwear, and then walk over to the desk where Christian keeps his stash of pot. I pull a blunt out of the drawer, and light it up, then drop down onto the cold leather sofa. I extend my six-foot-four frame, and take a pull from the blunt, drawing the smoke into my lungs, and then letting it back out slowly.

My thoughts stray to Wyn. Of course, they do. She's a fucking force of nature and filled with so much anger, it intrigues me. Maybe it speaks to my own anger, that dark specter that I hold tight to my chest. I don't know.

All I know for sure is one thing. If I'm not careful, my obsession with Wyn Barker will consume me…

Even more than it already has…