24. Jeremiah

Chapter 24

Jeremiah

T he heavy thud of the package hitting the doormat makes me jump. I glance at the grandfather clock in the hallway. It's only noon, way too early for the mail, and he knows better than to throw our shit carelessly onto the porch.

I toss aside the textbook that's been siphoning my attention for the past hour and stride to the door with an annoyed huff.

Furrowing my brow, the old wood creaks as I swing open the front door. A battered cardboard box sits innocuously on the deck. No return address, just my name scrawled in thick black marker.

"The fuck?" I mutter, scooping it up.

My sneakers clunk against the hardwood floors as I head for the kitchen. A couple raps with my knuckle reveals it's definitely not clothes or anything soft inside. Solid and weighty.

I grab a steak knife and slice through the tape, my curiosity getting the better of me. Flipping open the box, I'm met with a ratty old book, its leather cover cracked and faded. The scent of aged paper and leather wafts up to greet me.

"Jeremiah?" Oakley's soft voice drifts in from the living room. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, just some weird ass package showed up." I turn the book over in my hands, searching for any kind of inscription or note tucked inside. Nothing.

Oakley pads into the kitchen, eyes going wide when she sees what I'm holding. She lets out a strangled gasp, both hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Oakley?" I frown, setting the book on the counter. "What's wrong?"

She doesn't answer, just stares at the book with her big blue eyes damn near bugging out of her head. Her chest rises and falls rapidly with panicked breaths.

"Baby." I cross the room in two strides, hands cupping her face. "Breathe. Talk to me."

"That…that book," she stammers, pointing a shaky finger. "It was on my desk. At the library. I had it yesterday, then…then it was just gone."

"Gone?" I repeat, stomach sinking. "You're telling me this just showed up on my doorstep after vanishing from work?"

She nods, worrying her plump lower lip between her teeth. "I didn't want to tell you about it because I felt stupid, like I was overreacting. But now…"

"Dammit, Oakley, why the hell wouldn't you tell me something like this?" The words burst from my lips before I can reel them back in. My hands clench around the leather-bound spine of the book, knuckles whitening.

Her eyes are brimming with apprehension, and it's like I can see the wheels turning in her head. But she doesn't have to say anything; the fear written all over her face says plenty .

"Jeremiah, I—I just…" Oakley stammers, her voice a hushed whisper swallowed up by the spaciousness of the room. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing."

"Nothing?" I scoff, tossing the book onto the coffee table. It lands with a thud, echoing against the walls of my family's ridiculously oversized living room. "You think a book that by accounts looks old and probably valuable as shit just disappearing from your desk is nothing? Shit Oak, if you can't call or tell me these things, then what the fuck are we even doing?"

"Please, I didn't mean it like that." Her plea wraps around me, soft but urgent, and I can almost feel the tug of her worry.

"Christ, bunny," I mutter, rubbing my neck as I wrestle with the anger boiling inside me. "Do you have any idea who could be behind this? We're talking about a rare-as-hell book just popping up after going missing. This is a fucking taunt. Whoever is fucking with you is taunting us, which means he was too fucking close to you at that goddamn library, again."

She blinks rapidly, like she's fighting off tears or worse, total shutdown. And damn it, the sight of her trembling lip and those fingers twisting into the fabric of her dress—it does something fierce to my heart.

"Hey." I breathe out, closing the distance between us in two long strides. My hands find her shoulders, gentle despite the thunderstorm raging in my chest. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Oakley's gaze lifts to meet mine, vulnerability naked in her eyes. "You're right to be mad. I just got scared, and?—"

Her breath hitches, eyes glistening with unshed tears. I pull her against my chest, tucking her head under my chin. She clings to me, her slender frame trembling against my body .

"It's okay, baby," I murmur, stroking her silky hair. "I've got you."

On the inside, I'm fucking raging. Someone is fucking with her, toying with me, and it makes me want to put my fist through a wall. No, worse than that. I want to find the sick fuck responsible and bury him alive with a camera so I can watch his panic.

Footsteps thunder in the hallway, cutting off my darkening thoughts.

"Jeremiah!" my dad's gruff voice bellows. "Where the hell are you, son?"

Oakley stiffens in my arms at the sound of him. I shoot her a reassuring look, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"In here," I call out flatly. No fucking way am I telling him about any of this shit going on. He'll just make things a thousand times worse.

Robert Blackwood storms into the kitchen, his face like a thundercloud of doom about to add to the bullshit that is my day. I straighten to my full height, keeping Oakley tucked against my side.

"Didn't expect to see you today, or ever without a summons," I say, injecting a casual note into my words. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"Can't a father visit his son?" He tilts his head slightly, eyes sharp, missing nothing.

"Of course, but you and I both know ‘visits' aren't really our thing. What's got your panties in a twist this time?" I sneer, unable to resist riling him up. Oakley squeezes my hand in silent warning, but I barrel on. "Did you lose a deal because they couldn't put up with your ego?"

"Watch your fucking smart mouth," Dad growls, dark eyes narrowing to slits. "Your brother went and got himself arrested for assault so I don't have time for your shit."

A muscle ticks in my jaw. "I don't see why you're here throwing a fit with me, Dad."

"I swear, you boys will be the death of me." Dad rakes a hand through his silver-streaked hair, letting out a blustery sigh. "I swear, you boys will be the death of me.

His gaze shifts past me, landing on Oakley, and I feel her stiffen. "Miss Ashford," he says, his voice dripping with a politeness that doesn't quite reach his cold eyes. "A pleasure."

"Mr. Blackwood," Oakley replies, her voice a tremulous whisper that somehow still carries the weight of her courage.

"Robert," he corrects with a hint of command. "We're practically family, after all."

"Practically," I echo, the single word laced with a lifetime of unspoken battles. I'm not about to let him rattle us—not here, not now.

"Jeremiah," Oakley whispers, her fear a tangible thing pressing against my side.

"Everything's under control, Oakley," I assure her, though the tension coils tighter within me, ready to spring.

"Good to see you putting those protective instincts to use," Robert comments, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. His mouth curls into a sneer. "Of course, the two of you would be joined at the hip. The end of the world wouldn't have kept the two of you apart, would it?"

White-hot anger surges through me. I open my mouth to unleash the storm brewing inside, but he just keeps going.

"The Ashfords," he drawls from the doorway, lips twisted in a smirk that could curdle milk. "Always had more dollars than sense, didn't they? But I suppose crushes—or whatever you kids are calling it these days—know no bounds. "

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My fingers curl into fists as his sneer crawls under my skin. He's always known exactly how to needle me, and mentioning Oakley, sweet, innocent Oakley, in that tone…it's a low blow even for him.

"That's enough," I say, voice low but firm as steel. I arch one eyebrow at my father. "If you've got a problem with me, say it to my face instead of dancing around with petty insults. She's got nothing to do with this."

"You need to learn some fucking respect, boy!" he roars, rounding on me again.

"Jeremiah!" Oakley cries, darting forward to put herself between us.

"Get out of my way, you little bitch," Dad snarls, pushing her backwards.

That's it. I snap, seeing red, every rational thought blown out of my brain.

"Don't you fucking touch her!" I lunge for my dad, hands closing around his throat.

We go down in a heap, trading blows and grunts of pain. Dad gets in a solid punch, rocking my head back. I taste copper, thick and metallic in my mouth.

"What the fuck is going on?" Graham's voice booms from the doorway.

Before I can react, he's on me, arms like steel bands locked around my chest. With one massive heave, he hauls me off Dad, pinning me against the wall.

"Let me go!" I thrash wildly, hell-bent on ripping my father's throat out.

"Jeremiah, you need to shut the fuck up and go cool off," Graham growls in my ear, leaning his weight into me. "We've got enough chaos with Lincoln right now. Don't make this shit worse by boxing Dad in the fucking living room."

I sag against the wall; the fight draining out of me. Graham's right. As much as I want to beat Dad's face in, that won't solve a damn thing.

Oakley has backed herself into a corner, shoulders hunched, eyes wide with fear. She looks so fucking small, so fragile. Like a scared little rabbit.

The sight of her like that hits me harder than any of Dad's punches. I shove Graham off me, ignoring his warning glare.

"Oakley," I say, keeping my voice soft and level. "Let's go, baby."

She doesn't hesitate, darting across the room to my side. I wrap an arm around her, pulling her close as we leave the kitchen. Dad and Graham's angry shouts follow us down the hall, but I block them out. Graham can be Dad's golden boy right now because I'm fucking done.

Once we're in my room, I shut and lock the door behind us. Oakley immediately burrows into my arms, face pressed against my chest. I stroke her hair, murmuring soothing nonsense against the crown of her head.

"Jesus," I exhale, leaning back against the door. "Is it just me, or does he get worse every time?"

Oakley laughs, the sound brittle but real. "It's not just you," she says, squeezing my hand.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, bunny," I whisper, guilt gnawing at my insides. "I never wanted you to be around that kind of ugliness."

She tilts her head back, eyes shimmering but determined. "Don't apologize for him, Rem. You were just protecting me."

"Christ, I'd kill for a moment of peace."