I hop on my bike so I can take a quick run around the cliffs. Since drumming is out of the picture and the only girl I want naked and writhing under me is Grey, all I have to work out my restlessness is my bike.
Riding one-handed is going to be tricky, but there’s no law that says I can’t.
Even if there was, I wouldn’t care.
I walk the bike to the front lawn and I’m just about to throw my leg over it when I see a sleek black car slow down in front of the house.
It’s dad.
I know by the way my skin curdles.
Hopefully, he’s here to screw with Dutch’s head and not mine. I’m down a hand, but my twin has two arms to throw sensible punches with.
The window winds down. Dad appears, wearing dark black shades that hide his eyes from the sunshine.
“Get in. We need to talk.”
Yeah, I’m not doing that.
I use the back of my foot to flick the stand and try to keep the bike balanced with one hand, but it’s so freaking heavy. Maybe I should have kept the stand down so I could balance it better while I hopped on.
By the time I figure myself out, dad’s muscleheads are climbing out of the car. One wraps his hands around my bike while the other grabs my shoulder.
“Off.” I wrench my arm.
He gives me a blank stare.
I glance at the house. If I shout, my brothers will come running.
I know that like I know my own name.
The problem is that Vi is here. So is Cadey.
What Dutch told me about their pregnancy issues bothers me and dad stirring up another mess with the girls right here doesn’t sit well.
I decide not to put up a fight and go quietly.
I’m not as calculative as Finn and I don’t have two people to protect like Dutch, but I’ll hold my own. Dad’s insanity can’t be worse than mine.
Swinging my leg off the bike, I stomp over to dad’s truck.
Once I slip inside, his meatheads start the car and we take off.
Dad stares straight ahead, wearing a black turtleneck with long sleeves that covers the ink on his body. He’s wearing a watch so heavy, I wonder how his wrist can even hold it up.
“Make this quick,” I snap. “I’ve got school.”
“Aren’t you suspended for a few more days?”
I glare at him. “What do you want?”
He laughs at me, and I hate him a little more than I thought I did.
“Do you know, Zane, that you remind me the most of myself when I was younger?”
I almost shudder. That’s not a compliment.
Dad takes off his sunshades and clips it in the collar of his turtleneck. “I’d gotten my first record deal and had my first taste of success. The world loved me and the girls were…” He blows out a breath as if he’s recalling every filthy, disgusting thing women were willing to do for him in the bedroom. “I had them eating out of my hand. Anything I wanted, anyone I wanted, I got them like this.” He snaps. “But I was so stupid that I overindulged and almost lost it all. If I didn’t have someone straighten me out and show me what was at stake, I would have imploded.”
“Thanks for the trip down memory lane, dad, but can you get to the point before I have to puke?”
His eyes narrow on me. “Have you thought about what I said during our last conversation?”
“How I’m stupid, reckless and not worth a crap? Yeah, how could I forget a pep talk like that?”
Dad bares his teeth in a dark chuckle.
“How far are we driving?” I glance out the window. Now that I think about it, dad is heading out of the city.
For a split second, I wonder if he’s going to kill me. And then I let the thought go. If he wanted us dead, he wouldn’t do it himself.
And it’s freaking sad that I know for a fact that dad would kill us if he needed us out of the way.
The car makes a weird noise as we head off the road and bounce over deep potholes. I grab the handle above my window, trying to stay seated.
Dad looks unbothered. “You and Finn moved out of the house. Did you discuss it with Marian first?”
I glare out the window. If I hadn’t moved out, Marian would have kicked me out herself. We haven’t spoken yet, but I have a feeling she doesn’t want me anywhere near Grey.
“She would have been distraught if not for the good news.”
I whip my head around. “What good news?”
“Grace went on a date yesterday. She told her mom she had a nice time and she plans to see him again.”
I curl my fingers into fists. Dad could be lying but, from that self-satisfied smirk curling his lips, I don’t think he is.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. Why would Grey tell her mother that she’s dating that guy? What the hell is going on?
I want to pull out my phone and text her immediately, but dad is watching every little move I make.
The car stops.
It’s right near the cliffs where I kissed Grey that night. The location isn’t lost on me. My eyes take in the red clay, large rocks and the dangerous cliff that leads to nowhere but air and then a rocky demise. In the light, this place looks even more desolate and menacing.
Why are we here?
Dad doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.
This car ride.
The creepy intimidation tactic.
It’s all carefully chosen.
As if they’d rehearsed it, dad’s goons climb out of the car. The doors slam shut and then a heavy silence drapes over us.
Something crinkles, heightening the tension.
I see dad moving an object from his left side and bringing it to his right. It’s a brown envelope.
My uninjured hand remains stiff in my lap.
“Go ahead.” Dad offers the envelope. “Open it.”
I glare at him.
Dad lifts the envelope and shoves it in my direction, insisting without saying a word.
I drop it in my lap, and peel the tab with my right hand. Dad’s eyes never leave me, almost like he’s waiting for something.
Once I turn the envelope over, a bunch of pictures come flying out.
My skin starts crawling.
It’s me and Grey at the dance. The quality’s grainy and whoever took it was probably filming through the glass panel window in the door, but that’s definitely Grey.
My lips are on her neck and she’s gripping the back of my hair passionately. The next photo is of Grey in the classroom, her head thrown back, mouth open in bliss while I’m disappearing under her skirt.
Someone was spying on us.
My eyes whip up to dad and I give him a look that’s pure hell. “You were spying?”
“You really should pay more attention to your surroundings when you’re screwing a teacher, Zane. If you can’t do the right things, at least do the wrong things well.”
I grip the photographs so tight that they crumple.
The leather chair makes a noise as dad leans toward me. “Did you enjoy it, son? Being perverse? Breaking the rules?”
My nostrils flare.
“Now that you had your fun, it’s time for the consequences.” Dad picks up a picture and shoves it in my chest. “I told you that thing in your pants would get you in trouble someday, but you never listen, Zane. I guess it’s my fault for thinking you could do better if you were warned.”
His words rake against me, each one like a sharp claw digging into my flesh. My first instinct is to go after dad, but I just keep my fist at my side and glare at him.
One corner of his lips hitches up. He glances down at my clenched fingers and then meets my eyes again. “You wanna hit me?”
Freaking psycho.
I’ve always wondered—all these years, I’ve wondered—what it would be like if my father wasn’t the Jarod Cross. If he worked a regular job at a regular office. If he came home smelling of sweat and hard labor rather than booze and some other woman’s perfume. If he taught us guitar because it was once a hobby of his, a dream that he gave up because music rarely pays the bills and he loved his family more than his ambitions.
But that wasn’t the cards I was dealt.
And this monster’s blood runs through my veins.
Making me a monster too.
Dad lifts one of the pictures, one where I’m kissing Grey on the mouth. “What I had to learn, all those years ago when I was a newbie in the industry, you’re going to learn it too. But not in front of the world. No, you’re not going to make those mistakes where the cameras can pick them out and laugh at you. At us.”
“You went to so much trouble,” I snarl, looking at dad in rage. “But what the hell do you get out of it, huh? Just another screwed up way to control us so you can run for governor?”
His brows lift imperceptibly. This time, his eyes fill with amusement.
“Yeah, I know about that,” I snap. “You need Gran’s inheritance so you can fund your campaign, don’t you? Teaching at Redwood for a semester, running for the chairman of the board seat, it’s all to change your image so people are willing to vote for you.”
Dad laughs, and the sound sends a black, chilly shadow over the car. He lets out a long sigh, as if his body can’t take any more laughter and looks at me with eyes like hell. “Damn, you’re an idiot.”
I snarl at him.
My phone buzzes and, at the same time, there’s a knock on the window.
Dad lowers the glass as I check my phone.
There are a bunch of texts in our group chat.
Cadey: Did anyone know Miss Jamieson was live-streaming?
Sol: What?
Dutch: @Zane You need to see this.
Dad winds the window back up. Whatever his goons told him has him smiling.
I click on the video link that Cadey sent.
It opens up to a video of Grey. She’s standing on the front steps of Redwood Prep with a bunch of microphones around her.
My stomach drops.
What the hell is going on?
I whirl around. “Take me back to the city. Now.”
Dad peers at my phone and smirks. “Not yet. Let’s see what she has to say first.”
I notice the blank, almost business-like tone he’s using and something snaps into place in my head. I drop my gaze to the pictures and then lift my head, staring at dad with new eyes.
He’s right. I am an idiot.
“You’re not going to use these pictures,” I breathe out. It all settles into place in my mind, like a million glass shards reversing in time, each one fitting back into the mirror a moment before it shatters. Whole. New. Reflecting the truth.
My heart starts to race.
“You were never going to use those pictures.” I lift them. “They’re grainy. We’re wearing masks that cover our entire faces. The only people who could correctly identify us are me and Grey. No one else would look at these and use them as evidence.”
Dad tilts his head to the side, saying nothing.
“Even worse, if people find out, your entire campaign would go up in smoke.”
His gaze swings away from me and then ricochets back, stabbing me like a knife.
“You wanted me out here. You wanted me away from her.” I think about those boxes. The fact that all the files on The Grateful Project led nowhere and yet we conveniently found out that Harris was stealing from the school. Perfect evidence. A freaking bomb dropped in our laps and wrapped in a pretty bow.
The truth jolts me to the edge of my seat. “You wanted her to do this interview. You want her to be the one who blows the whistle on Harris.”
“And why would I do that?” Dad goads.
My mind races.
I dig my fingers into the chairs. “Because…” It hits me. “Because if she’s the one who takes Harris down, he won’t blame you for his downfall. You take him off the chessboard without any harm to yourself. Or the people behind the Grateful Project.” A dark hole opens up in the bottom of my stomach and it sucks the air out of my lungs. “You know something about The Grateful Project.”
My nostrils flare when dad smiles.
It’s like he’s taunting me, daring me to figure out the rest on my own. To admire the full breadth of his schemes. Inviting me to see the bigger picture, the way he played us all along.
“Who are the people involved in that project, dad?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He leans forward, his teeth flashing like a wolf’s. “But if I did, I’d say they were dangerous and they’d be really, really upset with anyone who stirs the pot.”
The rest of his words go unsaid, but I hear them like a gunshot.
Those involved in The Grateful Project would be angry enough to silence anyone who threatens to tear their masks off.
Sweat rolls down my back and it gets hard to swallow.
Grey.
No!
At that moment, I hear the most terrifying words.
“Principal Harris was just a cog in the machine that took my best friend’s life. But there are others. Guilty perpetrators who were involved in The Grateful Project. Whoever you are, and whatever you’ve done, I will drag your sins to the light.”
I look down at my trembling hand and find Grey on the livestream, eyes fierce and lips pursed in determination.
“Mm.” Dad makes a sound deep in his throat. “That’s not good.”
Frantic, I whirl around and snap the door handle. At that moment, the child locks engaged.
I hear the snap of the door closing.
The handle won’t budge.
“Open the door.”
Dad just laughs.
I throw my elbow against dad’s neck and drive him against the window. He slams into it with a thunk.
“Open the damn door!”
Teeth flashing white, dad stares me down. “You behave yourself, Zane. Behave yourself and I’ll make sure no one touches this family.”
On edge, I grit my teeth. “You won’t ever get what you want. I’ll make sure of it.”
Shouts erupt from outside.
Dad’s goons see that I have him against the window and rush to unlock the door so they can help him. I pounce on the opportunity, throw my door open and rush through the desert.
I have to stop this.
I have to get to Grey.
