Disorder by J.L. Weil

Chapter Five

Light dappled through the curtains as I tied the laces on my black combat boots.

“Where do you think you're going?” Brock demanded, his shadow falling over me.

I cranked my neck up while I finished securing the laces. “Out,” I replied flatly, straightening up. “Unless you're keeping me prisoner here.”

Dark brows lifted, a gleam of something wicked flashing in his aqua eyes. “The idea has merit.”

“You're unbelievable. Don’t turn this into some kind of sex thing.” The fact that we’d been under the same roof for almost two days and hadn’t ripped each other’s clothes off deserved an award. Just looking at him now, I weighed the option of staying here and putting my hands on that damn glorious body or doing this important thing that had been on my mind since Friday.

Self-control. Find your self-control, Josie. Just because you’re a hormonal teenager, doesn’t mean you have to act on those urges every time you get one.

Right?

This was Brock Taylor.

He was not the type of guy to get mixed up with. Physically? Sure. Emotionally? Hell no.

“Look, I need to see Grayson,” I defended my choice to go see my brother, regardless that I shouldn’t have to explain it to Brock. What I did was my business.

Brock crossed his arms. “I figured. Do you want me to go with you?”

Was he actually offering moral support? What was happening? “This is something I need to do alone.”

His expression didn’t change, but his voice softened. “Just don’t expect too much too soon.”

I nodded. “Noted. I’ve had years of practice being careful with my emotions.”

Pulling a little plastic card from his back pocket, he held it out for me. “Here.”

“What’s this?” I asked, taking the white card from him.

“It will give you access to get back through the gate.”

Why did this feel equivalent to being given a house key? I blinked. “Thanks.” Where was the argument I anticipated? The, James, this is a bad idea?

Without another word from either of us, I walked out his front door, got into my car, and drove off.

* * *

The bell rang, chiming through the other side of the door. I shifted on my feet and glanced back at my car, second-guessing if this was a good idea or not. The autumn breeze kicked up as I waited, and I slipped my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie.

The door opened, and my gaze met Grayson’s, watching as his brown eyes went from mildly annoyed to surprise, which he quickly covered up with a mask of indifference, an Elite specialty. The four bad boys of Elmwood Academy had a way about them. Unapproachable. Respected. Feared. And somehow those traits made them the most attractive guys at school.

And this particular Elite was my brother.

I just stared at him, taking in his face. At least a few inches taller than me, he wore basketball shorts and a T-shirt, despite it being too cool outside for both. Beads of sweat gathered on his brow in a way that looked as if he’d just come back from a run. Perhaps I had caught him in the middle of a workout.

“We need to talk,” I stated. No point in beating around the bush.

Regarding me with wary eyes, he said nothing, only pushed the door open wider.

I walked past him into the foyer with vaulted ceilings that made the entryway feel enormous. I’d been in the house before, but this time, it had a different meaning. It wasn’t a party house, but the home I should have grown up in. An image of three little kids with the same shade of brown hair running up and down the hallway flashed through my head. I could see it all too clearly, and my heart squeezed for a childhood I’d never have the chance to know.

Grayson shut the door and turned to face me, crossing his arms in a protective stance. Who was he guarding himself against? Me? “I wondered when you’d show up.”

“This is weird,” I said, hoping we weren’t going to have this conversation standing around in his foyer. I needed to sit down or would be pacing the floors.

His shoulders relaxed. “Weird doesn’t begin to cover it.” Not waiting to see if I followed, Grayson sauntered down the hallway.

I trailed behind into the less formal family room, where a large television sputtered sounds of a football game. Grayson turned down the volume as he sat in one of the rocking recliners. I took the other one, twisting my fingers in my lap. For a moment, just the low hum of the TV filled the room, neither of us saying anything.

Considering Grayson had thrown a rager just two days ago, the Edwardses’ house looked halfway decent. No beer bottles in scattered in the yard. No bras swimming in the pool. No bodies lingering around, nursing a two-day hangover.

Color me impressed.

“Your parents still gone?” I asked, scrambling for some sort of normalcy, and wondering if I’d get a chance to see them. I hadn’t come to ambush them. I’d come only to talk to Grayson, but now that I was here…

He nodded. “They’re visiting my sister—” His hand rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck.

Right. Kenna. Our sister. Our parents.

I couldn’t bring myself to refer to them as such. Not now. Who knew when. None of it seemed real.

The awkwardness between us stretched at the mention of Kenna. An unexpected ribbon of anger went through me. I wasn’t sure who I was mad at. “Everyone” seemed like the answer. But mostly, I was upset that I had a sister who was virtually a stranger to me and a brother who confused the hell out of me. I was the odd one out in this scenario, the one who got the short end of the stick. Strong and startling emotions burst within me, one of them being jealousy. I was jealous of Grayson… Kenna too. They had each other. They grew up as a family in this beautiful home, not that I gave a shit about material things. It was more of what this house stood for. Love. Stability. Family. Security.

Feelings of always longing for a sibling reared up inside me. There was a comfort in numbers, and I thought having someone else besides me to deal with my mother would have made my life tolerable. Not that it was always horrible. There was a time when I was younger when things seemed normal, happy.

Then it all went to shit. Angie drank more. My parents fought often. Before I knew it, they were divorcing and I moved in with the Pattersons. What took years seemed to happen in a blink of an eye.

Grayson forked a hand through his dark hair. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say,” he finally said, cutting through the silence.

“How about that you’re my brother, for starters?” The statement blurted out of me. “God, you’re my brother,” I said again, trying to make it all sink in and make sense.

He flinched but otherwise remained unaffected by my tone. “It wasn’t my intention for you to find out like that.”

It wasn’t his intention for me to find out at all. “And how exactly did you plan on telling me? Or should I ask, were you ever going to tell me?” I replied with heavy saltiness. Bottled-up anger leaked out. I didn’t know how upset I was with Grayson until I got here.

A part of me was so damn thrilled to have siblings. The other part was spitting mad. I’d been kept in the dark, lied to. I might have gone my entire life not knowing I belonged to another family.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted, massaging his temple. “I hadn’t made up my mind until I saw that asshole hit you.” His eyes blazed as if he too relived that night again and again, a dark memory that never went away.

This morning I’d woken up with one hell of a nasty bruise on my cheek. It was impossible to miss. Concealer helped, but it shone for Grayson to see, deep in color against my ivory skin. “I never did get a chance to thank you for coming to my rescue.” Some of the harshness left my voice.

He scoffed, grabbing for an open bottle on the end table between us. “I don’t want your thanks. You never should have been alone with him. That’s on me.”

I eyed the beer. It was a little early to be drowning his problems in booze, but I didn’t say anything. Who was I to judge? I had a mother who started each morning with a Bloody Mary instead of a cup of coffee. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said. I should have known Grayson would blame himself. And we were getting off-topic. Carter wasn’t why I was here. I took a breath, regrouping. “Look, I get this is difficult and you're feeling all kinds of crazy shit, because I’m feeling it too. I’m angry at you, at Brock, at Carter, at my mom.”

Grayson chuckled, shaking his head, which only fueled my rage.

“This is not fucking funny, Grayson,” I snapped.

“No. It is definitely not, but I see what he means,” he said after taking a swig from his drink.

“Who?” I asked, though I had a good assumption.

His entire face relaxed. “Brock pointed out once that you and Kenna both have the same temper. It is so strange to have you here, yelling at me. It’s what Kenna would have done.”

I scowled, my lips pressing together. “I want to meet her.” The demand just blurted out of me. I blinked, realizing it was true. I wanted to see her so much, this girl who looked just like me—my sister.

The momentary smile vanished from his lips, the softening of his features going with it. “When the time is right, when it is safe, I will drive you myself.”

His response didn’t make me feel any better, but I understood how many lives this secret touched. “Fine. But I won’t wait forever.”

An exhale loosened the tightness in his frame, and he sank a little deeper into the chair. Had he been afraid of what I would do with the information? “Thanks. I mean it. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I’d be this understanding or patient,” he admitted. “I’m the hothead in the family.”

“Good to know.” I flashed him a quick smile, feeling a bit better after laying into him. “This is difficult for both of us. I need to know where we stand. Do you still hate me?”

He shifted in the chair. “I never hated you, Josie. I was mostly scared.”

He used my name, and some unknown emotion spun in my belly. “Of me?”

“Of what you could do. I didn’t know if you knew who you were. It was one thing to read about you on a piece of paper. Seeing you… I don’t know, I just…”

“Felt wary?” I supplied.

“Yeah, I guess so.” His voice grew quiet. “Our history with Carter only added to it.”

My gaze shifted to the television, watching the players execute a play, but not really seeing it. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive her for taking me. Or for not telling me the truth. But why didn’t you tell me, Grayson?” I asked, turning my attention back to him. I knew he could see the hurt in my eyes, the raw pain, because I allowed him to see it.

“For the same reason you’re here right now. I was angry at first, and admittedly, I still am. Then, suddenly you were here, going to my school. You were this huge secret that could rock my family just after things had settled down. Some of that anger transferred to you regardless of how displaced,” he explained gruffly.

“I’m so confused. This whole thing is so fucked-up. What am I supposed to do now?” The question hung in the air between us as we just stared at each other.

He clenched the beer in his hand. “You mean do we keep on pretending nothing has changed?”

Just hearing him suggest it sent a chill through me. “Is that what you want?”

He leaned forward in the chair, pressing his elbows onto his knees. “We can’t go back. I know what I’m asking is a lot and difficult, but can you keep this to yourself just for a little bit longer while I figure out how to tell my parents? They’ve been through so much.”

I wanted to press him, to demand he tell them, but that was selfish. I also wanted to know more about the tough times his parents had gone through. I wanted to know everything about them. Kenna too. “I can do that,” I said softly. “But eventually I need to confront my mother. I can’t let go of what she did. I can’t forgive her. I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep on living this lie like I don’t know what Angie has done.”

His face grew grim, and I understood I hit a sore spot. “I don’t want you near her. She lost that right the second she took you. Not to mention who her stepson is. You’re not safe there.”

Understanding, I nodded. It was clear Grayson was fiercely protective of his family, and somehow without my knowing, that umbrella protection now extended to me. “Carter implied that he knows I have a secret.”

Grayson’s jaw clenched. “And you believe him? Don’t let that asshole get under your skin, Lil’ J. Even if he does know about us, we’ll take care of it.” By “we,” he meant the Elite. “Got it?”

“I’m staying with Brock for now. And I won’t tell anyone… else,” I added under my breath.

His brows drew together. “Who did you tell?”

Why hadn’t I just lied? “It was too big not to tell someone. And the Elite doesn’t count,” I defended, fumbling with one of my stud earrings.

His expression lost some of its seriousness. “Glad to know how we rate.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please, don’t pretend like everyone at school doesn’t worship the four of you. They’d kiss your feet and suck your dick if you let them.”

His lips twitched. “I’m not sure how I feel about you talking about my dick.”

My cheeks flushed. “This so weird. I don’t know if I’ll get used to it.”

“So, who was it?” he prompted, refusing to let me dodge answering, ever after trying to distract him.

“I needed to talk to someone who didn’t already know.”

“Josie,” he gritted between his teeth. “Who?”

I gave in, hoping Grayson and I weren’t about to have our first fight. “Mads.”

He jerked a shoulder up. “Shit. My cousin?”

“She won’t say anything,” I assured, reaching for his beer and taking long a drink. I needed something to settle the constant churning of emotions within me.

The muscles in his back relaxed through his white shirt. “No, she won’t. Mads is loyal to a fault.” He made that sound like a bad quality. I could think of a few traits the Elite could adapt.

“Why does that sound like a threat?”

The corner of his lip turned up. “You learn fast. Obviously, you got the brains.”

My fingers tapped along the glass bottle. “Mads is my friend. The only friend I have at the academy.”

A quick grin came over his face. Grayson didn’t smile enough. “Not true. You have us.” That might have been the nicest thing Grayson had ever said to me. I just didn’t know if it was true.

The fucking Elite.

“Do I?” I responded, a brow arching. “It seems I am only good for your agenda. My only value lies in what I can do to help you take down Carter.”

“Ouch.” His hand flew to his heart in a mock gesture of pain.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, unable to believe what I contemplated telling Grayson. “This isn’t probably the right time to bring this up, but I’m pretty sure Carter plans to blackmail me. You too.”

Other than a slight flinch, he gave no other reaction. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He can try. Did he say something to you?” Grayson held out his hand for the beer.

I handed it over. “He might have.”

He narrowed his eyes and asked, “When the fuck did you talk to him?”

Oh boy, here we go again. Break out the male testosterone. I had a feeling I would be getting similar lectures from each of the Elite guys once they found out. “Not the point. What’s on the thumb drive?”

He shrugged, and I could see I his eyes that what was about to come out of his mouth wouldn’t be the entire truth. “Just information about kids at school.”

“What kind of information?” I pressed, a knot forming in my belly.

“You’re stubborn. And perceptive.” A long sigh of resignation left his lips. “The kind of stuff people pay big bucks to bury and hide. Those dark secrets people never want uncovered.”

I thought about our own secret and the file on my family. If that was just a slice of what was on the thumb drive, I shuddered to think what else might be on there. “Is this something you guys do for fun? Collect damning evidence?”

“It’s insurance. It’s what keeps us on top. Being worshiped also means we have enemies. We own that school. If you have a secret, you can assume that we know about it. They think twice about stepping out against us.”

“But it just doesn’t stop at the kids we go to school with, does it?”

He shook his head. “No. The parents are way worse. Half of them bring their kids into their dirty little side businesses.”

“Why don’t you turn it over to the police?” I couldn’t help ask.

Grayson just looked at me.

“Because there is information on your own families on the drive,” I muttered, answering my questions.

“Partially,” he verified. “But mostly, it’s there for future use. Our intention was never to be vigilantes. It started as a prank for kids at school, but the secrets we found, they were deep shit. So we made a pact. We agreed not to expose the truth unless someone got out of line. We could take down more than half the school. Students. Teachers. Staff. Parents. The list is ridiculous.”

I lifted my legs, tucking them underneath me on the recliner. “How does Carter know about the thumb drive?”

Darkness extinguished the light in Grayson’s eyes. They were cold and ruthless now. “Micah’s dumb ass got drunk, spilled the beans. This was a time when we thought we could trust Carter, before we knew what he did to the girls at our school.”

I didn’t like where this was going. My pocket buzzed before I could give him my snarky response. It could be Brock or Mads. I pulled out my phone and let a groan. Shit. Sunday dinner. I’d completely forgotten about it. I glanced up at Grayson with apologetic eyes. “Sorry, it’s my mom. Angie,” I scrambled to correct. “She’s probably wondering where I am.”

“Answer it,” he stated unemotionally. A mask dropped over his features at the mere mention of Angie, but he couldn’t hide the underlying anger that resided inside him entirely.

“Hey, Mom,” I answered, reminding me I had a role to play.

“Where are you?” she demanded from the other end of the phone.

Her tone caused me to wince, wrinkling my nose. This ought to be fun. “I’m not coming home,” I replied, exasperated. This conversation would brew a fight I just didn’t have the energy to deal with. It had all been sapped talking with Grayson.

But my mother didn’t know anything about that. “Josie, so help me God,” she hissed through the phone loud enough that even Grayson’s brows lifted. “If you aren’t home in the next five minutes, I’ll call the police.”

I grinned, an evil smirk that matched Grayson’s. He rolled his eyes at me. My sentiments exactly. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’d be very interested in hearing about what happened Friday night.”

“Josephine.” My name came out in a harsh warning.

I leaned back in the chair, which rocked back and forth in small movements. “Did Carter tell you what he did?”

Silence.

Then a long drawn-out sigh. Someone needed a glass of wine, Angie’s cure to a migraine in the works. “Josephine, I’m not in the mood to listen to another of your elaborate schemes to embarrass me and hurt your brother. I’ve head enough. My head is throbbing.”

Hearing her call Carter my brother when I was sitting across from my actual brother snapped something inside of me. She was lucky we weren’t face-to-face, because the urge to hurt her like she had hurt me burst into my chest. “Bye, Mom.”

“Don’t you dare—”

Click.

I closed my eyes for a brief, peaceful moment without her voice making my ears bleed. Grayson chuckled and offered me his beer, which I gladly took. “Got any more?” I asked after draining what little was left.

“You read my mind.” Grayson reached under the side table and pulled out another glass bottle, offering me one and grabbing another for himself.

“Think the three of us have triplet mojo?” I asked, pressing the bottle to my mouth.

His lips twitched.