Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Twenty-Two

“About fucking time.” Fynn grinned, clapping Brock on the back.

Micah scooped me up, twirling me around. The room spun and squealed. “Put me down,” I ordered, pushing at his shoulders, but his grasp only grew tighter. He did finally stop spinning, thank God.

Those damn dimples winked on either side of his cheeks. “Not happening. You’re one of us now, Josie Jo.”

Grayson grinned. “The first girl Elite.”

“The only girl Elite,” Fynn added as my feet touched the ground.

“Do you hear that?!” Micah yelled throughout the house, his arm slung around my shoulder. “She is one of us now!”

I rolled my eyes. The gossip train on Monday would be barreling through the Academy at full steam. “And what if I don’t want to be an Elite?” I teased the four of them. They had formed a circle around me, including Mads in the group. I tried to keep a straight face, but I couldn’t stop the grin from appearing.

The corner of Brock’s mouth twitched up. “The only way out is death.”

“Hardcore,” I replied. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t want out. I wanted this. The friendship. The protection. The Elite was my safety net—always there to catch me.

I welcomed their disorder.

Mads gave me a hard hug once Micah finally released me. “I’m so happy for you. Despite all his less than stellar qualities, Brock is one of the good ones.”

I agreed wholeheartedly.

Still riding the high of hearing Brock tell me he loved me, we rejoined the party, heading to the kitchen for a drink. Celebratory shots.

Mads had been right about the party. I had needed this, more than I knew.

I turned down the hall, heading toward the kitchen, trailing behind Mads. Micah and Fynn were already raiding the liquor bottles, while Grayson and Brock did a sweep of the party to make sure shit was under control. These parties were notorious for crashers, which normally weren’t a problem, but Carter made it a problem after his recent shenanigans with Ainsley. They were monitoring who came into their homes.

As I passed the section of the hallway that broke off into three directions, I caught a flicker of movement that had me turning my head and halting. A shadow moved down the opposite way, the section of the house that was closed off to the party, that lead upstairs.

I don’t know what possessed me to follow, but my legs moved down the hallway just to make sure I wasn’t seeing shit. When I reached the stair landing, I glanced up, searching the darkness.

Click.

Was that a door I heard shutting?

I shouldn’t investigate. I should go back, follow Mads into the kitchen, do a round of shots, and pretend I heard nothing. But… I couldn’t do it. A wicked sense of dread overrode all those glorious feelings of being in love.

Perhaps it was just Brock or Grayson checking out the house. That had to be it. I’d feel stupid when I spotted one of them. Climbing up the stairs, I tiptoed down the corridor away from the party until I was staring at Brock’s bedroom door. It was closed.

My heart jumped in my chest as a soft glow of light flashed from under the doorway. Someone had flipped on a light inside the room. I reached for the door handle, my pulse hammering, and turned the knob. With a gentle push, the door swung open.

I peered inside, a healthy dose of trepidation dancing within me.

Nothing.

Just the warmth of the table lamp situated at the corner of the large rich, mahogany desk.

What the fuck?

How the hell had the light just turned on? I was so sure the room had been absolutely dark when I first approached. It didn’t make sense.

Laughter and music flowed from down the hall as I took a step into the room. And then another step as my eyes panned the shadowy corners.

Squeak.

The hinges on the doorframe echoed through the room, and I whirled around, watching as the door closed, followed by the click of the lock. Carter stepped out from where he’d been hiding behind the door like a ghostly predator.

Horror and dread grew in my stomach, both competing for top position, but really, neither emotion would win.

He leaned against the door, part of his face shrouded in darkness, adding an eeriness to his features. His lips curled up in a sneer. “I knew you were still fucking him.”

My heart jumped into my fucking throat, fear surging to the surface. “What are doing here?”

Carter chuckled, and the sound sent chills down my arms. “You and I have unfinished business, sis. You didn’t actually think I’d forgotten about our deal?”

I gritted my teeth. “You could have just called or texted. And I’m not your fucking sister.”

He wore a black hoodie, and his fingers fumbled with something in the front pocket. “Oh, right. Your mom is a kidnapping psychopath.”

“Takes one to know one,” I snapped back, praying it wasn’t another knife he was concealing.

He chuckled again, sounding like a desperate man coming unhinged. “What? You think that being the Edwardses’ lost daughter makes you all high and mighty? You’re still worthless.”

My nerves were stretched thin as I tried to come up with a plan to get the hell out of this room. “I don’t give a shit what you think of me.”

“You never did.”

“Brock will be here any minute.” Yeah, this was the best plan I could come up with on the spur of the moment. Eventually, when I didn’t show up in the kitchen, they’d come looking for me. And if Brock found me with Carter, he would kill him. Actually kill the bastard. “It’s pretty stupid of you to come here alone.” Carter liked to hear himself talk, so I’d stall until then.

A fight was just what Carter would love; anything to put the heat on the Elite. “Who said I’m alone?”

I was going to call his bluff. Maybe there was a chance I could bulldoze my way to the door, shove him out of the way just long enough to flip the lock and open the door. “Get out of the way.” I attempted to walk toward him in hopes the asshole would move. He only shifted, blocking me further and yet somehow bringing us close.

Too fucking close.

I retreated a step, my insides churning.

“Let’s make this quick and painless. I want his passcode and the thumb drive, sis. Now. Since you’ve interrupted my plans to get in and out unseen, you’re going to get it for me.”

The fact that he mentioned pain had my panic going through the roof. “I don’t know where it is.”

“Well, I suggest you start looking, because your life depends on it.” He pulled his right hand out of the hoodie pocket. A sliver of moonlight from the window glinted off steel.

Carter clasped a gun.

An audible gasp fled from my lips. “Are you fucking insane? Why do you have a gun?”

He held it up, pointing the barrel at the ceiling. “Incentive.”

I didn’t know much about guns, other than what I’d seen in the movies, but it looked like it had an attachment on the it. A silencer perhaps? “Do you plan to kill me if I can’t find what you want?”

His smugness rose, the gun giving him power. “You or whoever gets in my way.”

I no longer wished for Brock or the Elite to find me.

“But… I don’t even know if it’s in his room.”

“I have it on good authority that it is. Now move.” He swung the gun in the air, indicating for me to start my search.

Ava. If he trusted anything out of that bitch’s mouth, then he wasn’t as smart as I gave him credit for. I realized he probably hadn’t heard about Brock’s latest scheme, and I wasn’t about to tell him either. Brock would never have trusted her with that information.

Keep him busy,my mind encouraged.

With that thought, I cautiously turned and walked toward the desk.

“Sit,” he ordered.

Once again, I did as he instructed.

“Put this into the USB,” he said, pulling out a compact portal drive and handing it to me.

“Why?” I asked, taking the device.

“Just fucking do it.”

Fear made my movements clumsy but after a few tries, I managed to get the plug into the USB port.

“Now open the file on the hard drive.”

“I don’t have the password to get in.”

“Useless. Let me guess, you don’t have the passcode for his phone either.” He shook his head and dropped a slip of paper onto the desk below the keyboard. “Enter this. And do it quickly. The clock is ticking.”

I snuck a glance at Carter and stared at the end of the gun. “I can’t concentrate with you pointing that thing at me.”

Carter stood over me, using his incentive to keep me motivated. “Try harder.”

My tongue wanted to unleash a verbal fury like Carter had never heard. I curbed the desire and typed in the password written on the piece of torn paper. I didn’t want to know how or from where he had obtain the information to get into Brock’s personal computer..

After the computer logged in, I covered my hand over the mouse and moved to the folder located on the desktop, clicking it open. There was just a single file inside. Black Widow. I snorted.

“Open the file,” Carter demanded, jamming the into my back.

Every second I spent alone in the dark with Carter made me feel criminal. “What does it do?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just open it. Now.”

“And if I refuse?”

He rammed his fingers into my hair, grabbing a fistful and yanking my head back as he leered over me. “Don’t test me.”

“Do it yourself,” I hissed between gritted teeth as sharp pain shot through my scalp.

“Worthless bitch,” he swore sharping, covering his hand over mine and clicking the file open.

I shivered at the touch of his skin on mine, which only made Carter chuckle, his hot breath fluttering over my neck. My eyes stayed on the computer screen, watching as a black box came up, text scrolling too fast through it for me to understand what it was doing. Nothing fucking good, that was for sure. As soon as the black box disappeared, Carter leaned forward and withdrew the portal drive, shoving it back into his pocket.

He stood straight and waved the gun in my direction. “Now find me the thumb drive, and I’ll be out of your life.”

Like hell, I thought. Carter was like a disease with no cure. “I don’t know. And that’s the truth. They don’t tell me shit.” My fingers clutched the front of the desk and brushed up against something small. Something fastened under the center drawer.

Holy shit.

Doing my best to keep my facial expression schooled, I wiggled the little rectangular device out from its holding clip.

“I suggest you start looking,” Carter ordered, glancing to the locked door.

I took the opening and slipped the USB into my back pocket as stood up and turned around to face him. By the time his cold eyes returned to me, I moved to start opening the desk drawers.

Carter stepped up close behind me, so close his chest touched my back and his breath stirred my hair. The barrel of the gun pressed into my lower back. “Do you want to show me what you found?”

My blood froze in my veins. Remain calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I was proud of how calm my voice came out.

“I love that you like to do things the hard way. It makes this so much more interesting.” His nearness made it feel like a million spiders crawled over my skin.

A string of f-bombs went off in my head as I stared straight ahead, afraid to move, even breathe. Carter slid his hand into my back pocket, the gun firmly pressed into my back. His hand basically cupped my ass, lingering longer than necessary.

The asshole was enjoying himself.

Fucking creep.

My jaw clenched. “Get your hands off me.”

Carter’s fingers finally removed the thing he’d been so desperate to find for months now. He jabbed me with the gun and commanded, “Turn around.” I did as asked, facing him with slow movements, terrified that if I moved too quickly, he’d shoot me. I took my time lifting my eyes, hating what I knew I’d see on his face. Triumph glittered in his deranged eyes. “Now, was that so hard?”

I opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell, but the door handle jiggled, shifting our attention.

“Josie, are you in there?” Brock called from the other side. “Why is the door locked?”

About fucking time. Christ.

At the sound of Brock’s voice, Carter’s eyes grew wild, and his face drained of color. All I could think was, good. I hope he pisses his pants.

Something spurred inside me, some basic instinct to survive. “Brock! He’s here!” I yelled, forgetting for a brief moment about the weapon aimed at my chest.

“You stupid bitch,” Carter hissed, shoving the USB into his pocket. I didn’t see his other hand move until it was too late to deflect the blow. He hit me on the side of my head with the butt of the gun.

It wasn’t hard enough to knock me out, but damn if I didn’t see stars as pain burst into the side of my skull as I stumbled, struggling to stay on my feet and keep conscious. Groaning, I dropped my head, pressing a hand to where the pain radiated. A warm, sticky substance oozed onto my fingertips. Blood.

Son of a bitch—

Crash. The bedroom door shook under what sounded like a shoulder ramming into the wood, vibrating through the room.

Carter scrambled around the desk toward the other side of the room where the sliding door led out to a small private patio. I froze, unsure if I should run to the door or tackle Carter and try to stop him from escaping.

After another smash against the door, I took off toward Brock, reaching the exit just as Carter shoved open the glass doors. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This was bad. Like the entire Academy collapsing bad.

As I flung open the door, Brock stood on the other side like an avenging angel. His eyes were dark and darkened further when he caught sight of the blood dripping down the side of my face. Stepping over the threshold, he glared at Carter with such violence that I nearly trembled. Brock’s hands were fisted at his sides, and they unclenched, then clenched again.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Brock demanded.

Carter had one foot outside and the other in the bedroom, halfway to freedom. He lifted the gun in his hand and aimed it at me. Brock’s kryptonite—that was what Carter had called me. I was the Elite’s weak spot. “Don’t fucking move or I blow her head off,” Carter threatened.

Brock’s gaze sharpened as his eyes darted to the gun before shifting so he put himself between the weapon and me. “Put the gun down, Carter. You don’t want to do this.”

What was he thinking, putting himself in the line of fire? Fear like I never felt crashed into me. It was one thing for Carter to aim that thing at me, another thing entirely to point it at someone I loved.

“You have no idea what I want to do,” Carter fumed.

“I know that you don’t want to go to jail or you wouldn’t be here,” Brock chided.

“It doesn’t matter now. I have no use for her. You can fucking have her.” Then Carter twisted, bolting down the stairs, taking the gun, the danger, and the flash drive with him.

I expected Brock to rush to out after him and gave chase, but he turned, facing me. In my next breath, he was in front of me, worry shining in his aqua eyes. “Firefly, are you—?”

“Brock, he has the USB,” I cut in, unconcerned about myself. A small cut was nothing compared to the kind of damage the information on that external drive could do.

“Good,” he replied. With gentle fingers that shook just slightly, he brushed at my hair near my temple, surveying the cut. “I can’t believe that fucker hit you again. I’m seriously going to kill him.”

Okay, not the reaction I’d expected. I blinked, confusion clouding my mind. “What the fuck do you mean, good? You aren’t going to go after him? He did something to your computer. Put some kind of virus on it or something. I don’t know.” His lack of response got me worked up and the words rushed out in one long ramble.

Brock shrugged, a hand moving to my hip. “He took what we wanted him to find. And as for my computer, I’ll have someone uncover whatever the bastard did.”

“You knew,” I whispered, my gaze searching his face as clarity began to break through. “You knew he would try to break into your house?” I didn’t want it to be true. None of it. But sometimes you don’t get what you want.

He tugged me closer, and for some reason I let him. Maybe because I wanted him to comfort me and tell me I was wrong. “I knew he would try something,” he affirmed, my body flush against his. “What Carter stole only has information we gave him. It’s not the real USB. We wouldn’t keep something like that in here,” Brock explained.

“You did good, James.” Fynn stood in the doorway with Grayson and Micah. I hadn’t heard them approach.

My eyes volleyed between the three of them and Brock beside me. What did he mean I did good? It didn’t take me long to draw a conclusion. “Was this some kind of twisted test?” When no one denied it, I shook my head and shoved out of Brock’s arms. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you,” I said to each of them, unable to believe they would pull a stunt like this. Just when I thought I knew them, understood them, the Elite went and proved that I knew nothing. “I could have been seriously hurt. He could have shot me. What the actual hell?”

“We didn’t know the fool would bring a gun,” Grayson defended.

“We swear, Josie Jo,” Micah reaffirmed, like that made it better.

This couldn’t be happening. I felt betrayed by them, used. I get that I wasn’t supposed to walk in on their plan and find Carter sneaking around, but it happened. And there was no undoing the events of tonight. A myriad of conflicting emotions washed within me as I let the words fly, “I don’t need this shit. I don’t need the Elite.”

“Too bad, Firefly,” Brock bluntly said. “Membership can’t be revoked. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. Remember?”

What was this, the fucking mafia? Unbelievable.

I huffed out a breath, attempting to find a thread of Zen, for I would need it dealing with the four of them. “Then next time, you better fill me in on the plan first. You either trust me or you don’t.”

“Promise,” Fynn agreed, speaking for the group, but it wasn’t enough for me.

I eyeballed each of them, my back straightening. “I need all four of you to say it.”

Micah’s lips twitched, but I got what I wanted. Four deep, male promises.

Taking a step back, I leaned against Brock, the adrenaline quickly leaving my body. “Someone get me a damn drink.”

He put a firm arm around me, and only then did I notice that my body was shaking. “Grayson, take her home,” he advised gruffly as he kept his gaze trained on me.

“I don’t need to handled,” I proclaimed, though the statement came out a bit chattering and not super effective.

Brock smirked down at me, pressing a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I wouldn’t dream of handling you, Firefly, except for in the bedroom.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Really? You thought right now would be an appropriate time to make a sexual innuendo?”

“Micah does it all the time,” he replied.

Fynn cleared his throat, shuffling his feet from the doorway, trying not to smile.

Grayson just shook his head.

And Micah… he grinned like he just won the fucking lottery.

“It’s cute when Micah does it,” I replied.

Micah laughed, and the playfulness there eased some of the tension tied in knots around my chest. “Hell, yeah it is. Hand her over, man. I’ll get her a drink,” he told Brock as he waved me forward with a crook of his finger.

“Get the hell out of here.” Brock halfheartedly shoved Micah’s shoulder as he led me out of the room, Micah’s laughter following us into the hall.

These four guys. What the shit was I going to do with them?

“I thought we shared everything.” I heard Micah chuckle behind me as the guys followed us out.

“Micah, I swear if Brock doesn’t give you a black eye, then I will,” Grayson threatened, but there was no real bite to his words.

“Josie isn’t just his. She’s ours too,” he defended.

Their nonsense chatter filled the corridor, warming me from the inside a little at a time, almost as effective as a shot of bourbon. I rested my head on Brock’s shoulder as he shook his head.

“I’m with Micah on this one,” Fynn agreed, surprising me.

“Jesus, not you too,” Grayson groused. “Is there anyone that doesn’t want to sleep with my sister?”

A beat of silence passed, and I felt my cheeks flush.

What have I gotten myself into?

“Believe it or not, it is possible to be friends with a girl,” Fynn argued.

“And want to bang,” Micah added.

“For fuck’s sake,” Grayson swore.

We’d just reached the party at the end of the hall when I spotted Mads as she whirled around at our approach. Something about the bright excitement in her eyes conjured a thread of unease within me. “You’re not going to believe who I ran into.”

Grayson’s brows worked up. “It can’t be worse than who Josie—”

A slim figure stepped out from behind Mads. She smiled timidly at the Elite, her fingers twiddling with the ends of her dark-haired ponytail.

And to think I thought all the surprises were done for the night.

I stared at the girl who shared so many of my facial traits it was damn right scary.

Grayson paused. “Kenna?”

Oh. My. God. It was really her—my sister.

I’d say it was seventeen years overdue.

Thank you for reading!

Brock and Josie will be back in the conclusion,

REVENGE!

xoxo,

Jennifer

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