Since we’re all going to the same place, Finn rides with us. He’s in the backseat, a tablet in his hands. Every so often, he swipes the page.
I peer at him. “What are you reading?”
His eyes shoot to me and then dart back down. “The Millionaire’s Surrogate Lover,” he says dryly. “It’s a historical romance.”
I can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not.
I glance at Zane for help.
He shrugs. “We don’t understand him either.”
Finn swipes another page, dismissing me.
Okay then.
“So about my end of the deal,” I say, staring at the darkness on the dangerously winding mountain road, “before I talk to mom, I need to find out more about Jarod Cross.”
“What about him?” Zane drives with one hand. The other he wraps around his cup of coffee.
I watch the way his throat bobs and feel my stomach tighten.
He’s so effortlessly attractive. It’s annoying.
I drag my eyes away from his wet lips to the railways, which are the only things preventing us from plummeting off the rocky cliffs. “What are his motivations?”
“Easy. He’s evil, narcissistic, and gets off on other people’s…” Zane glances in the rearview mirror and suddenly clams up.
“What?”
“There’s a car…”
Before he can finish, something rams into the back of our vehicle. Metal crashes into metal and I hear the sound of tires squealing on the road. Our vehicle lurches, colliding into the metal railway.
I scream.
Finn’s tablet tumbles out of his hands.
Zane shoots an arm out to protect me. It’s an almost instinctual act because his eyes are on the rearview mirror and he’s fighting to correct the car. “What the hell?”
Our attacker won’t let up.
The scream of steel on metal fills the night air.
As our car keeps moving against the railway, metal sparks explode.
There’s a black car with heavily-tinted windows ramming us from behind. It’s too dark to tell who’s in the driver’s seat.
“Zane, go faster,” Finn barks.
“I’m trying,” Zane grits out. He slams his foot on the gas and the car zooms forward.
But that only gives our pursuer another chance to ram into us again.
Boom!
Glass shatters.
Metal crunches.
My body lurches forward and the seatbelt cuts painfully into my chest.
“Zane!” I scream, pointing at a break in the railway up ahead.
The barrier is going to run out.
If we keep going like this, the black car will push us right off the mountain and into the inky darkness below.
“Hold on,” Zane growls. Eyes narrowed, he pushes his foot harder on the gas.
I watch the speedometer climb.
We get closer and closer to the edge of the mountain.
“Zane, watch out!” I yell again.
My fingers dig into my seatbelt.
This is it.
We’re going to die.
I wince, bracing myself for impact.
At the last possible second, Zane shifts gears, slams the brakes and hauls on the steering wheel. The car drifts to the right, screaming over the highway.
My heart is pounding and I chew so hard on my bottom lip I taste blood. We finally gain some ground and Zane punches it, taking advantage. Our car speeds away, putting distance between us and our tail.
“Grey, you alright?” Zane asks, breathing hard and glancing over at me.
I nod, swallowing the blood in my mouth. If not for Zane’s evasive maneuver, I wouldn’t just be tasting blood. I’d be drowning in it.
“I snapped a picture,” Finn says, his voice so devoid of emotion that it sends a shudder down my spine. “But there was no license plate.”
“Dammit,” Zane grumbles.
“This is insane,” I say breathlessly. “Why would someone try to kill us?”
Finn remains quiet, but his face is hard.
“We’ve got plenty of takers. Dad, for one.”
“Dad isn’t this sloppy,” Finn says. “And he likes to gloat.”
“It could be Hall.” Zane arches an eyebrow at me and I feel myself bristling. “I thought he was too quiet after I put him in the hospital.”
“Or it could be someone who knows about my investigation.”
The car falls silent.
I lift my attention to the woods on either side. Danger is breathing down my neck and it makes me wonder if I made the right choice coming to Redwood.
This is all starting to feel like too much.
I press a hand to my chest, feeling the thumping. Adrenaline is still shooting through my blood and it doesn’t stop even when we get closer to home.
It’s funny.
No one mentions going to the police.
Neither do I.
This world is so twisted, so dark, that even when my safety is threatened, it feels useless to rely on anyone—even those sworn to protect and uphold the peace. The cops didn’t do that for Sloane. Why assume they would for me?
The garage door rises and Zane drives in.
I frown, noticing a shiny convertible. “That car wasn’t there before.”
Zane’s voice holds a hellish chill. “It’s him.”
“Who?”
Blue eyes drill into mine. “Dad. He’s home.”
Jarod Cross insists we eat out. I kind of wish we’d stayed at home.
Not just because we were almost killed on the mountain tonight.
The atmosphere around this table is so toxic I’m slightly nauseous. It feels like, at any moment, a fight will break out.
It doesn’t help that we’re in the perfect setting for a black-and-white murder mystery. The Boardroom is a depressing restaurant with heavy velvet chairs, dull lighting and old, outdated furnishings.
Their only claim to fame is a cigar rack that takes up most of one wall.
Whoever thought of putting a cigar shop and a restaurant in the same room needs to get their head checked.
I cough and blow the scent of tobacco smoke away.
“Here,” Zane says, handing me a handkerchief, “use this.”
“Thanks.”
Our fingers graze lightly when I take the cloth from him. Even that simple touch sparks heat through my body.
His eyes burn, and I can tell he felt it as strongly as I did.
“Jarod,” mom says, looping her hands around her husband’s arm, “you didn’t have to take us out. I told you I’d be happy to cook for you.”
“No need. Since I’m back in town for a night, I wanted to treat you to a nice meal.”
Mom’s lips curl up, happy with the crumbs he tosses at her.
“I also wanted to talk to the boys.” Jarod’s eyes dart between Dutch, Zane, and Finn. “I couldn’t believe it when I got the call from Harris saying they’d been suspended.”
His accusation is sharp and cold.
I can feel the tension whipping around the table like a storm.
Mom laughs nervously. “Why don’t we eat first before discussing anything unpleasant?”
“Yeah, dad,” Dutch says, leaning back in his chair, “while we eat, you can tell us all about the tour. When does it start again? I haven’t heard anything in the news.” Jarod’s expression barely shifts, but there’s the tiniest clench of a muscle in his jaw when Dutch says, “You need to fire your publicist. They made you look like a liar.”
“I didn’t know you were so interested in my tour, Dutch.”
Mom clears her throat. “Wow, this asparagus is so flavorful. Boys, have you tried the asparagus?”
I want to face-palm. Mom is trying so hard to smooth things over, but there’s no stopping this war. If we step in the middle, we’re getting skewered.
“You three are old enough to know better.” Jarod Cross cuts into his steak with a serrated knife. Blood oozes out of the centre. Carelessly, he sops it up and pops it into his mouth.
Squeamish, I glance away.
Jarod’s eyes shift up, two pools of velvety blackness. “I’ll be running for the chairman seat. You three should represent me well.”
“What do we have to do with your stupid chairman run?” Zane spits.
Jarod Cross chews carefully. “Why would anyone trust me to run Redwood if I can’t even show that I can run my own house?”
“Honey, don’t be so hard on them. They only fought to defend Gracie. They may have gotten suspended, but it was for a noble reason.”
“Noble?” Jarod’s eyes cut to me and it feels like an ice cube slithers down my back.
Has he always been that sharp? That dangerous looking? Or is it that I was blind before and the boys ripped the scales from my eyes?
“Is that what you think, Miss Jamieson?”
I lick my lips. “I think things will settle down soon.”
“I’m sure you’re hoping for that. I heard you’ve been quite the star at Redwood lately.”
Zane’s smile is a hard slash across his face, and it frightens me a bit to know there’s so much darkness lurking inside him. “Have you been keeping tabs on Miss Jamieson too?”
“I only heard that you almost got her fired.”
Zane stiffens.
“What?” Mom’s jaw drops. “Gracie, I didn’t know it was so serious.”
“It isn’t, mom,” I say nervously.
“What’s going on at Redwood?” Mom insists.
“There are some truly abhorrent theories going around, Mar. The kind of torrid things I could never repeat.” Our eyes meet over his glass of wine. Jarod Cross smiles and, somehow, it’s scarier than Zane’s chilling smirk. “Things that could get other, less connected people in a lot of trouble.”
I feel Zane going into fight mode beside me and quickly press a hand into his upper thigh.
Dutch laughs darkly. “You pay a lot of attention to gossip, dad. Are you sure you’re not Jinx?”
Finn’s jaw muscles clench, but he remains quiet.
Zane leans back cockily, but all his muscles are tense. “Dad, you should know better than to listen to rumors. Remember what people were saying about you when you were dating that Peruvian model. What was her name again? Petra? Dishi? I can’t remember. You change them so often. But I do remember she could barely talk English. Except for that one word. Sugar… daddy? Was it? Oh, wait, that’s two words…”
Jarod slams the butt of his knife into the table.
The china rattles and clinks.
Mom and I are the only ones who shrink back.
Calmly, as if he didn’t almost impale the table, Jarod smiles. “You’re mistaken.” He picks up mom’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “I don’t need to go looking for anyone else now that I’ve found her.”
Mom looks like her heart is melting to the floor.
Dutch draws his chair back, face darker than a storm. “I think I’ve been here long enough. Let’s not do this again.”
“Dutch, wait…” Mom reaches out as if she’s thinking of physically restraining him.
Finn draws his chair back too.
When Zane gets up to leave the table, I’m stunned to realize that he’s holding my hand and dragging me up too. I quickly shake him off before mom can see.
The brothers drag me across the room.
“This is my last warning,” Jarod says to the boys’ retreating backs.
They all stop and turn.
“Don’t make any more trouble for me.” My step-father’s voice bristles with a threat. “It would hurt me to have to punish you, but I will.” He picks up his knife again and cuts into his steak. “Gladly.”
Dutch’s nostrils flare.
Finn’s expression is carefully neutral.
“And Zane…” Jarod Cross quietly wipes the sides of his mouth. “Think hard and carefully before you act. The more impulsive you are, the more you drag everyone around you down. Especially the people you want to protect.”
Zane’s fingers curl into fists.
Jarod glances at me. “Miss Jamieson, let me know if you have any more trouble at Redwood. I’ve heard things are getting dangerous over there, and I would hate for something to happen to you.”
Zane flies forward before I can blink. He grabs Jarod Cross by the collar and drags him out of his seat.
Mom shoots to her feet so fast, her chair topples to the ground.
I fly after him, wrenching Zane by the shoulder. “Stop it.”
Zane glares into his father’s face. “Touch her and I will burn everything down, even if I have to light myself on fire first.”
Jarod Cross’s smile is this wicked sharp thing that sets me on edge.
“Still so reckless, Zane.” He tilts his head, unfazed. “How can you ever have what you want?”
“Enough.” Dutch drags Zane off.
Jarod Cross smooths his collar back down.
“Jarod, what did you mean by that?” mom cries. “What do you mean something might happen to my daughter?”
“He meant what he said, mom. That was a threat.” My eyes narrow in his direction.
Jarod Cross laughs. “A threat? Why would I threaten my own step-daughter?”
When he reaches for me, Finn, Dutch and Zane move quickly between us, blocking me from view.
Jarod Cross smirks. “What is this? A swat team?”
The boys don’t say a word.
Jarod Cross cranes his neck past Zane to look me in my eyes. “Are you scared of me, Miss Jamieson?”
“You’d like me to be, wouldn’t you?”
He laughs again. “I see the boys have gotten to you. Gracie, you can’t believe the words of rebellious and headstrong teenagers. It’s easier for them to chase conspiracies than to admit they lack discipline and self-restraint. Of course, that’s my fault. I didn’t train them well. Not like Marian raised you.”
Mom’s eyes dart between me and Jarod, still looking shocked and confused.
“We’re leaving,” Zane growls.
“Mom, let’s go,” I say.
Her body remains rooted to the ground.
I wait for her.
“Mom,” I insist.
Her face tightens and then smooths out. I see the moment she chooses him.
“Why don’t we all just sit down and talk this through. Jarod can explain exactly what he meant and I—”
“Mom, just stop it,” I snap.
Her mouth clamps shut and she looks at me like I’m a different person.
Maybe I am.
Maybe Sloane’s death was the first step of my transformation.
Maybe my fingers are stained in blood.
Maybe I’m slowly turning into a monster too.
Maybe that’s what I have to become to beat a monster that’s much bigger than me.
