"She'd have been in your class at Gravestone High. She's a freshman at Gravestone U and—"
"Bexley," she interrupts, "I'm actually a year older than all of you. After everything with… After all that, I retook my sophomore year here. So she'd have been in the class below."
"Right, okay." Hadley seems impressed that I just skim over that nugget of information, but really, after everything I've discovered recently, it's hardly earth-shattering. "Anyway, Mia is… Mia is Cade's prosapia and—"
"Bexley," Hadley warns, "tell me you haven't."
"I didn't know about any of this bullshit when I first met her."
"You need to walk away." She lets out a resigned sigh, her face deadly serious.
"I can't, Hads. I can't leave her with him. I don't trust him."
"Jesus." She drops her head into her hands. "Carry on and you're going to end up getting yourself killed."
"Rather me than her."
Her chin falls in shock. "Wow, she must really be something, Bex."
"She is. She's… fuck—" I hang up the second my door flies open.
"What the fuck?" I bark as Kingsley marches into my room like he owns the fucking place. "How'd you—"
His manic laugh cuts off my words. "You think I'd let you lock yourself away, Easton? Clearly you’re stupider than you look."
I glance behind him to see Alex loitering in the doorway.
"Who were you talking to?"
"None of your goddamn business."
"I can find out anything that goes on under this roof. Don't forget that."
"Whatever," I mutter, staring out the window instead of looking at him, knowing it'll piss him off.
"You need to get dressed. You and Rexford have a job."
"A job?"
"Yeah, you're Q's little bitch boys now. They tell you to jump, you ask how high."
"What about you?"
He laughs again. "What about me?"
"They order you around like that too?"
He shakes his head, not even bothering to answer my question as he begins ripping drawers open. He throws a black hoodie and a pair of black sweats at me. "Black, always. Meet me downstairs in ten."
Spinning on his heels, he marches out of my room, barging through Alex who's still awkwardly standing there. It's only now I realize he's dressed as Kingsley is expecting me to.
"Look at you, doing as you're told," I mutter, nodding toward his outfit.
"What's the alternative?"
I shrug, because fuck if I know.
Making quick work of changing, I follow Alex down to where his highness is waiting.
"So, who were you talking to?” he whispers as we descend.
"Your sister."
His steps falter a little. "Hadley? Have you told her?"
"About you, no. She knows about everything else, though."
"She's good people. I'm glad you've got her."
"You should too."
"It’s not my place to tell her. That's a job for Harrison, don't you think?"
"Yes, but if she's going to be able to help you then I say go for it. Something tells me we need as many people in our corner as we can get right now."
He mutters an agreement as we hit the hallway and find Cade dressed all in black. "Let's go," he barks, spinning away from us and marching out of the house.
"What about the others?" Alex asks as he climbs into Kingsley’s Range Rover. Much to his irritation, I take the passenger seat, seeing as it looks like this little mission is just the three of us.
He glances over at me as he puts the car into drive, his lips pursed in frustration.
I smirk at him.
We're equal now. Unless you look at the history books, which suggests that once upon a time the Easton line reigned supreme, not Kingsley.
My chest puffs out in triumph when he focuses his attention back out the windshield. The second we pull away from the house he turns the stereo on and blasts Bring Me the Horizon loud enough to ensure we can't have a conversation.
Fine by me. I have no interest in talking to the motherfucker.
"Where are we?" I shout as we pull into an old motel parking lot on the very outskirts of Gravestone.
Reaching out, Kingsley turns the music off. "Part of being Electi means you’re at Q’s beck and call. That means tidying up their messes and running their errands."
"Just spit it out."
"You don't get a choice,” he says. “You do what they say, when they say, and you never ask questions."
"Right." I roll my eyes. It's not like I was expecting anything different.
"Why aren't the others here? I thought you worked as a team."
"Usually we do, but Q still wants to know what you two are made of, so this is all yours." He looks at me and then catches Alex's eye in the rearview mirror. "Room one-two-nine. An associate got a little carried away with his party. Everything needs cleaning up with no evidence left behind. You think you can do that?"
"Clean a motel room?” I grumble. “Yeah, I think we've got it covered."
A wicked smirk curls at Kingsley's lips and my stomach knots. I knew this wouldn't be as simple as picking up a few bottles and stripping the bedsheets. The look in his eyes tells me that we're nowhere near ready for what we're about to walk into.
"In the trunk, you will find two bags containing everything you need. Do what you need to do. I'll be here when you're done."
"Why don't you come help?"
"Not my job."
I hesitate for a few seconds, my eyes watching a young kid kicking a ball against the end wall of the building.
"You in? Or do I have to tell Q that you're a pair of pussies?"
"Fuck off, Kingsley." Throwing the door open, I climb out. Alex quickly follows, and, after throwing the bags over our shoulders, we follow the signs to the room.
"What the hell are we about to walk into?" Alex asks as we climb the stairs.
"I wish I knew. Something tells me it's not going to be pretty."
We come to a stop in front of the door. The curtains are drawn on the dirty window, giving us no clue as to what's waiting inside.
"Ready?" I ask.
"No."
Despite his words, I reach forward and throw the door open.
"Oh my God,"
