Deceit (Gallows Hill Book 1), page 32
“Shh, it’s okay. We’re heading down now. Almost done.”
I nod, burying my face further into his chest having no shame as I take a slow inhale of his cologne. It’s fresh and clean, with a hint of something oaky beneath it. I find myself wanting to get lost in the scent, who needs fresh air when I can have this?
The ride jerks to a stop and the attendant lifts the bar for us. Neither Asher nor I move for several seconds, though. Instead, we cling to each other, like we’re the only people in this world, in this moment. Okay, it’s really that I’m clinging to him and he’s holding me, but same thing.
Eventually, he’s the first to cave, a featherlight press of his lips against the crown of my head as he squeezes me encouragingly.
“C’mon, let’s get you home.”
I nod, slowly pulling away as Asher steps off first offering his hand to me. I take it as I step off the ride. When we’re out of the fenced part and joining the leaving crowd, I expect him to drop my hand. He doesn’t, though. In fact, when I try to pull my hand free, his fingers intertwine with mine, giving me no choice but to accept it.
Looking up at him, I’m desperate to read his face, to see what he’s thinking…what he’s feeling. He gives nothing away, though. That stoic look and rigid posture perfectly in place as he keeps his eyes forward.
I’m disappointed, as I slowly turn away and we walk wordlessly, hand in hand, the entire way back to the car.
Chapter Forty Five
Ronan
I’d much rather be at the carnival with Skyla, or in bed with Skyla. Really anything to do with Skyla, than where I am right now. Instead, I’m in my brother’s home, our childhood home, in his office.
I hate coming here. It’s filled with more horrors than any home should ever possess. The things these walls have witnessed are nothing short of undiluted evil. Growing up I swore I would never carry on the dark habits of our family’s Legacy. Christopher, though? He always had it in him, dare I say, he may even rival our father.
“How were the boys in your opinion? Who needed the most guidance? Who took charge? I need more details than this piss-poor excuse of a report,” he snaps, slapping down the folder I gave him after Asher and Liam had handled their assignment, with my assistance.
I hate having to get into details. The truth is, if he knew how hard of a time Liam had with everything before, during and after, he’d kill him without hesitation. There is no room for weak men in the Brethren, let alone in the Elders. Don’t get me wrong, I really like Liam, he’s a good guy but…he doesn’t have what it takes. Not on the level he’ll be expected to perform.
Despite him being a good kid, my girl loves him and there is no way I’m risking her going through that kind of heartache. So I lie, easily, casually, and with all the right words to satiate my blood thirsty brother.
“They did well for their first time, they clearly need more practice. Something we already knew,” I say, with an exaggerated eye roll. “Asher most definitely took charge, not that I’m surprised. Liam has followed in his shadow his whole life. It was all too predictable that the same dynamic would apply in the field.”
Christopher watches me carefully, as if he were trying to discern if I’m lying or hiding anything from him. Shit, at this point, what am I not lying about or hiding from him?
“Do you think he should be removed?” Christopher asks, with a tilt of his head.
I don’t answer immediately, showing I’m giving this idea some real thought before I look at him and fold my arms over my chest.
“I think it’s too early to say. I’d need to see more, maybe him without Asher and forced to take the lead. He has potential, and as the Walcott’s only heir, I think it would be in the Brethren’s best interest to see if he can prove himself.”
Christopher thinks over my words carefully before nodding.
“I agree. I’ll have something arranged for him shortly after the ceremony. You’ll oversee him,” he says, making it clear that if I had any protests, they’re a moot point. This is non-negotiable.
This may be a mis-step, but I can’t resist the door he has unknowingly cracked open for me.
Gesturing to the black leather bound book with the sacred B crest stamped onto the front, I ask, “Why are we having the ceremony moved up, brother? It breaks tradition. You of all people are dedicated to upholding all traditions and laws that are written there.”
It was our ancestors’ journal, Thomas Putnam. The man who founded it all. The creator of the Brethren and more famously known as ‘the father of Ann Putnam’ one of the largest accusers from the trials. Because of her mouth, Thomas’s hands and the help of the Parris family, over sixty people were accused and tried. A fact that Thomas brags about often throughout the journal.
My brother places a possessive hand on the journal, his and the Brethren’s most sacred possession.
“I do what I do, because I must.”
“For what purpose?” I push. “On Hallows Eve of all nights?”
To my surprise, he doesn’t snap into a blinding rage. Instead, his eyes trace around the room, verifying it’s empty before continuing.
“There are rumors of an attack that night– on the girl. It is believed they will harness enough power to not only harm the girl, but all of us, all at once.”
I remain unblinking as I stare at him. We’ve all grown up with the legends, the stories. Of how the Brethren was formed as a way of protection from the witches they didn’t catch, the ones who remained hidden and the descendants of the ones who were executed. I’m open minded to the idea of them and their descendants being capable of witchcraft of sorts, though I don’t think I believe in it as wholly as my brother or the other Elders.
My mind cannot fathom a group of people practicing black magic, just to continuously attack and torture a group of descendants from an event that occurred more than three-hundred-years-ago. Maybe I’m wrong, but maybe I’m not. Maybe this is one giant game of the trials yet again, with two sides of the same coin fighting against one another for centuries. It’s no longer hunting witches down, and hanging them from the gallows. Now it’s forcing their businesses to collapse, their inheritance ruined and a handful of them thrown in jail or ‘mysteriously’ disappearing.
The same could be said for them, I suppose. We have lost many members over the years, even members of several Elder families. I suppose my brother has some merit for being overly cautious. The hate is very clear on both sides. I just wonder, if either truly knows what they’re fighting over in this day and age.
Regardless of my skepticism, the idea of an attack on Skyla turns my stomach. Though only slightly more than the idea of her going through the archaic and revolting ceremony. With this new information in mind, I know there is no way to stop it. No way to save her, and I fucking hate myself for not being able to act sooner.
“Have you informed Asher of what the night will require of him?” I ask.
Christopher shakes his head.
“I can hardly stand the sight of that boy,” he sneers. “You will apprise him of his responsibilities. The girl as well, only what she needs to know.”
I nod solemnly as I receive a dismissive gesture from my brother. Happily standing up and getting the hell away from this house, I almost make it to the door before he calls out.
“I’m trusting you with this brother. Should either act out of turn, I will know who to blame,” he says, his threat clear, intent known.
Nodding my agreement, I step all the way through the doorway before I’m making my way to my car.
Fuck me.
I head straight to campus, feeling the need to rip the band aid off. Though I know it’s going to fucking suck. When I get to the Parris dorm, I find Asher in the hallway, sitting on the floor with his arms braced on his knees and his head against the wall. He doesn’t see me because his eyes are on the ceiling and I’m about to ask him what he’s doing, when understanding hits me.
“Liam!” Skyla practically screams out, followed by a loud smack and another moan.
Asher’s eyes shutter, closed so tightly it looks like he’s in pain. Poor fucking bastard. He’s so gone for her, and he won’t even admit it to himself. Not that I’m sure he’d even have a chance if he did. He’s treated her like shit and Skyla isn’t just going to forget of all that. In the same breath though, they’ve been getting along a lot better lately, spending more time together. Maybe he would have a chance.
It would be a little odd for me to be sharing my girlfriend with my nephew…I just want to see her happy though, him too. What kind of man does that make me, that I’m fine with sharing her with the whole fucking school if that’s what she needs? As long as she won’t stop loving me. A lucky one I’d say, because I still hold her heart and she holds mine.
“Hey,” I say, as I come to stand in front of Asher.
His eyes pop open as he looks at me, standing up to his feet.
“Hey.”
My head gestures to the door.
“Liam?”
“And Griggs,” he hmphs.
“Why aren’t you in there?” I test.
He scoffs like that’s a crazy idea before he scrambles a little, picking up a takeout bag.
“She was hungry, and delivery was gonna take too long, so I ran out for a bit.”
“That was nice of you,” I say.
Asher shrugs. “Except when I got back they were all…busy.”
I nod my understanding, staying quiet for a few moments.
“How was the carnival?”
He huffs out a short laugh and shakes his head.
“Lame and crowded.”
“Did Skyla have a good time?” I ask, watching with intrigue as his eyes dilate slightly when I say her name.
Interesting.
“Yeah,” he nods coolly, though he’s already given himself away.
“Good.”
“You gonna go in there too?” Asher asks, a hint of bitterness to his voice.
For a moment I contemplate it, but another pleasure filled moan sounds through the door and I’m suddenly second guessing it. She’s having a good night, a great one from the sounds of it. I’m not going to ruin it with heavy shit like this.
I look at Asher, wondering if I should tell him before I think better of it. He’s not going to like this anymore than she will, none of us will, honestly. So I’ll let them have a little longer, I’ll wait until it’s absolutely necessary.
“Nah, I just wanted to check on her. I’ll see her tomorrow. You staying?” I ask with a curious brow.
He shrugs, leaning against the wall with his foot kicked up on it, like he’s more than happy hanging out in the hallway.
“Yeah, gotta get the princess her food when she’s done,” he says, rolling his eyes in irritation that I feel is only partially authentic.
I nod, clapping his shoulder as I turn on my heels and head home. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to look my baby in the eye until that conversation comes. This is so fucked.
Chapter Forty Six
Skyla
Ronan has been distant lately. I’ve tried to get him to come over, or to let me come to him. Instead, he dodges me at every turn. The last few times I went to the pool he wasn’t even there, some substitute swim coach in his place. I’ve asked all the guys, wondering if they know what has been going on, but they’re as clueless as me.
The worst case scenarios come to mind, and they taunt me daily. Has he gotten sick of this arrangement? Does he want me to himself, or not at all? Has he found someone else? Someone who is more ‘appropriate’, given our situation? My stomach works itself into knots when a text lights up my phone, forcing me to spring out of bed.
Liam and Vincent stir beside me, Vincent obviously much more alert than Liam as he reaches for me.
“What’s wrong, Siren?”
“Ronan texted me,” I say as I read it over as fast as I can manage.
“Bout time,” he grumbles.
Ronan: Will you meet me at my place in an hour? Bring the guys. I love you.
My heart flutters at that simple I love you, but when it comes after nearly two weeks of hardly any contact, I can’t deny I’m more than slightly irritated. Okay, so he definitely still loves me, unless of course he’s only saying that to get me over there, so he can break my heart properly, in person. Though, if he was planning that, why would he tell me to bring the guys? He has to know that if he breaks my heart, the guys will lose their shit on him, Asher included.
He's been surprisingly protective of me over the last few weeks. Ever since the carnival. We are definitely friends at this point, maybe more? I don’t know. I tried to bring up the almost kiss the next day, but he brushed it off like he didn’t know what I was talking about.
Is it bad that a small part of me hoped that when he came back from getting takeout he’d walk in, see me and the guys together and get jealous? Want to join? Or watch? Something?
Instead, he just sat outside and waited for us to be done before giving me my food and leaving at the same moment. After that though, things were semi-normal. Except anytime one of his little groupies would give me a dirty look or a whispered remark, he’d practically charge them. It took Liam and I both to hold him back from Bridgette one day when she called me a two-cent whore. After he nearly crushed her trachea in the dining hall, you’d think she’d be a little more careful. Or maybe she’s just dumb, probably the latter.
Regardless, it made my heart swell each and every time he defended me. Jeremy and Dane just glanced at me the other day, and Asher wrapped his arm around my shoulder protectively, giving them both a murderous glare that shouldn’t have been as sweet as it was. They scrambled out of there, despite Dane being in a wheelchair. Vincent said he fell down a flight of stairs or something, but the twinkle in his eye told me he had something to do with it. I should probably be way more concerned that one of my boyfriends is clearly a dangerous man. Tell that to my love-struck dumb little heart, though.
“He said that we need to come over to his place in an hour,” I say.
Liam groans as he wraps his arm around my stomach.
“Fuck him. Tell him we’ll go when we’re good and ready,” his sleepy voice grumbles.
I laugh lightly, but honestly I need to get out of this bed. The anxiety rising inside of me wouldn’t allow me to sit still and wait around even if I tried. Slipping out of bed and onto my feet, I make my way into the bathroom where I take a quick shower, skipping my hair this morning before getting ready.
When I come out of the bathroom, Vincent is already gathering up his new clothes for the day and passes me to the bathroom with a stolen kiss from my lips, while Liam is still in bed. The guys have been keeping clothes and toiletries here lately because honestly, they are here more than they are in their own rooms these days.
A few kisses and promises of head later rouses Liam awake, and he practically springs out of bed, running for the bathroom.
“Hope you’re nice and sudsy, Vinny!” Liam shouts as he runs into the bathroom, promptly followed by him shouting out a loud “Ow!”
I smile and shake my head as I slide on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Since it’s Saturday and we’re just going to Ronan’s, I don’t bother putting hours into my appearance. The guys have slowly broken me of the idea that I have to look completely put together, all of the time. When three gorgeous sexy men tell you over and over again that you look just as beautiful with or without makeup or fancy clothes, you can’t help it, you start to believe them.
A knock comes from my door, and I frown in confusion as I open it. I’m surprised when I see Asher standing there, hair damp and tousled like he just got out of the shower himself.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes running over me appreciatively as if I was wearing a skintight mini dress.
“Hi,” I smile shyly.
I can’t believe we’re getting married tomorrow. It’s such a weird feeling. I’m in love with someone, several someone’s, and none of them are my fiancé. I don’t exactly hate my fiancé though, not anymore. I…I actually think I like him, but the fear of rejection far outweighs my desire to know how he feels about me in return.
“Ronan texted me,” he says.
I nod. “Me too.”
“Can I drive you?” he asks.
I can’t help but smirk.
“Since when do you ever ask? What happened to the demanding, ‘be ready at this time or I’m leaving you’ texts?”
He rolls his eyes, but a breathtaking smile takes over his face.
“I never said that.”
I choke on a laugh and nod. “You practically did, every single time. You could hardly stand to breathe the same air as me.”
His arm lifts to rest on the door frame as he leans down, until we’re practically at eye level.
“Things can change.”
My breathing stalls as my heart flips.
“Yeah, they can,” I say cryptically, causing him to lift a curious eyebrow as his smile shifts into a soft smirk.
“Yeah?”
I swallow roughly, my teeth catching the inside of my lip as I nod. His eyes lock on the movement, tracking me slowly before coming back to meet my gaze.
For the love of god just kiss me already! I think I’m going to die from the buildup of all this sexual tension.
He can’t actually read my mind, which is stupid if you ask me. I think things would be a lot simpler if he could or vice versa. Vincent comes out of the bathroom, drying his jet black hair with a towel, dressed in his black jeans and shirt that I’m sorry to say, look exactly like what he wore yesterday and the day before. My boyfriend is simple in his ‘I don’t have to try’ goth style. He’s still hot as hell, though, so I don’t mind.
“Little close to my girl, don’t you think, Putnam?” Vincent says as he steps behind me, slipping an arm around my waist as he pulls my ass back to him.
I scoff, smacking his chest but he doesn’t take his eyes off Asher. Vincent has been like this ever since Asher and I started getting along. I think he can sense things shifting between us and he doesn’t like it. He already hates sharing me with Liam and Ronan, I fear Asher would be his breaking point.
