The Raven Game by Jessica Sorensen

Raven

Zay’s eyes widen, and my heart slams against my chest.

“What do you mean, you’ve heard it before?”

It’s not Zay who says this.

Jax.

Both Zay and I startle, and our gazes dart toward the doorway where Jax is leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed, an uneasy look on his face.

I don’t know why, but the tension in his eyes makes me tense. Maybe because he rarely looks tense, rarely looks anything other than occasionally irritated. And that tension makes me question if admitting I know the nursery rhyme was a royal screwup on my part.

“When did you get here?” Zay asks with a nervous edge in his voice.

“I showed up halfway through you reciting that stupid rhyme,” Jax says in a clipped tone. He glares at Zay, and that glare only deepens as he fixes his attention on me. “Where have you heard it before?”

Lie, the word sears through my mind.

“I don’t know. I think the first time I heard it, I was about five years old. I’ve heard it after that, though,” I reply as vaguely as I can for reasons I can’t even comprehend.

Jax pushes away from the doorframe and stalks the room toward me, his boots scuffing the floor. “From whom?”

“I’m not sure.” Fear swirls through me, my head foggy with memories of running around that damn tree with three boys that I’m almost certain are Zay, Jax, and Hunter.

Mary Lee B.

Mary Lee B.

Mary Lee B.

Kill her.

Kill her.

Kill her.

Jax stops in front of me, and I have to angle my head up to look at him.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, my gaze lowering as I daze off, trying to piece together yet another foggy memory. “I mean, I don’t remember.”

Silence stretches by. A clock is ticking from somewhere, and Zay is breathing sort of loudly.

Jax fixes his finger under my chin and forces me to look up at him. “I don’t believe you.”

And that snaps me out of my trance.

I jerk back. “I don’t give a shit if you believe me or not. I also don’t get why this even matters. And you know what? Screw this. I don’t have to be here.” I move to stand up, but he moves his hands on either side of me, placing them on the back of the sofa and caging me in, forcing me to sit back down.

My heart slams in my chest, but I keep my composure.

“Get out of my way,” I say in an icy tone.

“No,” he replies in an equally, if not more, icy tone.

“Jax …” Zay starts, but quiets when Jax fastens his chilling glare on him.

“Are you defending her?” Jax quirks a brow at him.

Zay shakes his head. “No, not at all. I was just going to say that, if you want answers from her, you might want to try another tactic, because bossing her around doesn’t usually work.”

Jax snaps his gaze back to me, a calculating look on his face. “You’re right. We need to try another way.”

I glare at him, my calm façade fading. “What’re you going to do? Threaten to make me jump off a bridge again?”

“Nah. We already know that isn’t going to work.” The corners of his lips kick up into a smirk. “But everyone has a weakness.”

“True, but even if you find my weakness, it wouldn’t matter,” I stress. “Because I’m telling the truth.”

He stares at me, his eyes searching mine. I can tell he’s trying to read me, to see if I’m telling the truth.

I’m not sure what he sees in my eyes, but eventually, he leans back. “All right,” he says, like that explains everything. Then his gaze burrows into me. “Did you call your aunt and uncle yet and tell them where you are?”

His brief subject change throws me off, and I sit up straighter. “No. But it doesn’t really matter. They won’t care where I am.”

“You still need to call them,” he says, glancing at the time on the grandfather clock. He considers something then looks at Zay. “We need to have a private meeting.”

“About what?” Zay asks, looking totally confused.

Jax gives him a pressing look, and Zay frowns.

Way to be cryptic, guys.

“Are you serious?” he grumbles. “Right now?”

Jax shrugs. “You know how they love using every second of our free time.”

“Who does?” I ask.

“The bosses,” Zay mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have a damn headache.”

“Take some painkillers then.” Hunter appears in the doorway. His gaze sweeps across the three of us as he leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms, uneasiness flowing off of him. “What’s the meeting about?” he asks Jax.

“How would I know? You know my father rarely tells me what they’re about. He only tells me the where and when.” He fiddles with a leather band on his wrist. “Show Raven to her room, and then meet Zay and me in the meeting room,” he tells Hunter.

“I thought you didn’t want me showing her around?” Hunter challenges with an arch of his brow.

Jax stares him down hard. “Just make sure to keep your hands to yourself.”

Hunter gives him a salute then rolls his eyes, but his expression softens as he turns to me. “Come on, little raven; let me show you where you’re going to be resting those pretty little eyes of yours.”

Le sigh. There he goes with that pretty stuff again. But I’m too exhausted right now to argue. These guys are so exhausting. Gorgeous but exhausting.

Sighing, I get up and move across the room toward Hunter.

“And Raven?” Jax calls out. “The discussion about the rhyme isn’t over. It’s just postponed.”

I give him a snarky thumbs-up then exit the room with Hunter.

“He’s so freakin’ bossy,” I mutter.

“You’re just realizing that?” he asks, lightly nudging his shoulder into mine with a smile on his face.

I stare at him for a beat. Who are you really, beautiful guy who’s kissed me twice and has the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen?

“No, but I am realizing how annoying it is.” I sigh. “I just don’t want to be bossed around.”

“As much as I’d love to tell you that Jax will eventually chill out, it won’t happen,” he says. “It will get easier to deal with, though.”

“Really?” I question with doubt.

He wavers then smiles. “Yeah, okay, maybe not easier to deal with, but you’ll get better at dealing with it.”

I’m unsure if I’m buying into what he’s saying, but I let the subject drop as we come to a stop in front of a shut door.

“So, this is the room you’ll be staying in,” he informs me as he wraps his fingers around the doorknob. “And conveniently, it’s right across from mine.” He winks.

“Yeah, how convenient,” I say with an eye roll, trying to ignore the fluttering of my heart. But it’s hard to ignore, especially with how clearly I can remember the feel of his lips. “And I still don’t get why I need a room to stay in. This lockdown isn’t going to take that long, is it?”

“It’s hard to say for sure.” He twists the knob and pushes the door open. “But why does that even matter? You’re staying with us now. Remember?” He flashes me a grin.

Instead of remarking on his comment, I step over the threshold and into a room with black and purple walls, ebony hardwood floors and furniture, and a massive chandelier dangling from a silver ceiling. The velvet comforter on the bed is also silver, and so are the curtains. Black and white paintings cover the walls of landscapes, cities, and oceans. The room is gorgeous, to say the least, and huge. Like bigger than the entire bottom floor of my aunt and uncle’s house.

“Well?” he asks after a minute ticks by where I merely wander around, taking everything in.

I stop in front of the bed and turn to face him. “Well what?”

He bites back a smile as he pushes away from the doorway and crosses the room toward me. “Do you like the room?”

I give a shrug. “It’s okay.”

“It’s okay,” he repeats musingly. “There you go lying again.” He playfully tugs on a strand of my hair before tucking it behind my ear. “I think you might like it. You’ve got this awed look in your eyes.”

I blink, trying to erase whatever look is in my eyes. “It’s a nice room, but … whose room is it? Like an extra bedroom or something?”

“Actually, it used to be Jax’s sister’s room,” he explains, sitting down on the foot of the bed. “She used to stay with us sometimes.”

“Used to?” I ask, stepping toward him. “Why not anymore?”

The change in Hunter’s expression lets me know the answer before he says it. I know that expression. It’s the same one I saw on my own face the first time I looked at myself in the mirror after my parents died.

“She died a couple of years ago,” he says, picking at a loose thread sticking up on the comforter.

“Oh.” My chest tightens in a familiar way. “I’m sorry.” I may not trust him at all at the moment, but I can tell he’s not lying right now.

He shrugs dismissively then reaches out and takes my hand. “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s not your fault.” He pulls me toward him until I’m standing between his legs. Then he places his hands on my hips, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “It’s Jax’s father’s fault.”

“Wait—Jax’s father is the reason she died?”

He nods, peering up at me through those thick eyelashes of his. “Pretty much. But it’ll never be proven because Jax’s father runs this town.” He swallows hard.

My heart aches for him so badly that my chest actually starts to hurt. “How do you …? I mean, you said you work for Jax’s dad, right? How can you stand that?”

He sketches his finger along my side, along the scarred sliver of skin showing between the hem of my shorts and my shirt. “I have no choice. It’s either obey him or be buried beside my own sister.”

A slow breath eases from my lips as my heart slams against my chest.

“But it’s not permanent. Eventually, I’ll get to leave Honeyton. Maybe then I’ll try to get my revenge.” He says the last part quietly.

“You’re leaving?” I ask, surprised.

He slowly nods. “We have a deal with the bosses that, once we graduate, as long as things go smoothly, Jax, Zay, and I get to walk out of here free and clear.”

“So, you don’t like it here?”

He laughs hollowly. “Fuck no. I’m only here because I have to be, because I was forced into this lifestyle simply because of the family I was born into. And it’s this town and the lifestyle that sealed my sister to a painful fate.”

I want to ask how she died, but I know from experience that the question will be painful for him. Honestly, just talking about this is probably painful for him.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “And I’m not saying that because I think it’s my fault. I’m saying it because I know how it feels to lose someone you love.”

He stares up at me while dragging his teeth along his lower lip, uncertainty written all over his face, making me question if I should have said what I said.

“I seriously want to keep you,” he mutters.

Before I can protest, he reaches up, cups the back of my head, and pulls me in for a kiss.

I know I should … Pull away, Raven, pull away, but it’s like, the more I kiss him, the more connected I feel to him, and the more I want to kiss him.

But I barely even know him … right?

I’m not so sure about that answer anymore. And that alone should have me stopping this kiss. Instead, I kiss him back.

He pauses, muttering something incoherent underneath his breath, then he delves his fingers into my hips and pulls me onto his lap so I’m straddling him. That’s when we really start kissing, tongues tangling, hips rolling against each other. It’s even better than the last time we kissed and, for an instant, I forget about everything. Literally, nothing exists but lips and fingers and his warmth.

But then his phone vibrates. And vibrates. And vibrates.

“Fuck.” He pulls back, panting heavily, his eyes looking a bit glossed over. He meets my gaze as he grips my waist then lifts me off his lap, depositing me onto the bed.

“Wait right here,” he mutters, sweeping a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Stay just like this.”

My initial instinct is to argue or ask why, but I’m breathing so profusely that all I can do is manage a nod.

He gives an uneven nod as if answering a silent question then gets up from the bed and walks out of the room, digging his phone out of his pocket.

The moment he steps out, reality crashes over me.

I kissed Hunter again. And while I was kissing him, I felt connected to him again. I’m unsure if that’s normal or not when you kiss someone, since I’ve never really kissed anyone before him. Whether it’s normal or not is kind of beside the point, though. The fact that we broke the rule again is the point. Then again, Jax keeps threatening to punish us, yet he hasn’t …

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth, wondering if he ever does, what will the punishment be.

“Hey.” Hunter enters the room again with a sort of remorseful look on his face. “I need to go talk with Jax and Zay for a little bit.” He slowly crosses the room and stands in front of me so I have to tip my head back to look up at him. He strokes his knuckles against my cheek. “I’m sorry.”

My brows drip. “Sorry for what?”

“That I can’t keep kissing you right now. I want to … really fucking badly.” He’s strangely serious at the moment. “I’ll try to make it so Jax’s stupid meeting doesn’t drag out for too long.” He lowers his head and kisses me softly on the cheek.

My eyes involuntarily shut, but I force them open before he leans back and sees.

He offers me a small smile before turning to walk out of the room.

“Hunter?” I call out.

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder with his brows puckered. “Yeah?”

“Why do you keep kissing me … when you guys made this big deal about not breaking the rules and not kissing each other is one of those rules? And yet, you keep kissing me and seem like you’re okay with it … It doesn’t make any sense unless Jax’s punishments aren’t that bad.”

“You won’t get punished,” he insists. “I promise.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “How can you be so sure? Because Jax seems pretty set on punishing me.”

“Jax might change his mind,” he replies vaguely, a wave of tension rippling through his lean muscles. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll take the punishment for you.” He turns around to leave, tossing over his shoulder, “Oh, and make sure to call your aunt and uncle and tell them you’ll be living with us from now. And that we’ll be stopping by as soon as the lockdown is lifted to pick up your stuff.” With that, he exits the room.

I let out the loudest breath as his words seep through me. Not what he said about calling my aunt and uncle. What he said before that. About taking the punishment for me.

No one has ever done something like that for me, and the idea that he would is doing strange things to my heart. But why would he do that? Why would he endure a punishment for me when he hardly knows me?

Unless he does …

My mind starts to race with questions as I get up from the bed and start pacing the room. Who are these guys? How do I know them? And why are all these memories suddenly surfacing?

I have no answers to any of these questions, but I need to get some. I just don’t know where to start. I could snoop around, except there are cameras everywhere. I could just ask the guys, but I’m not positive I trust them. Plus, my mom said not to trust anyone. But she’s not here …

Because of me …

As guilt presses against my chest, I wander around the room, looking at all the photos on the wall. Then I peer inside the freakin’ huge closet that literally has no purpose for me since all the stuff I own could fit into a suitcase.

“Man, this room is insane,” I mutter as I open the curtain to look outside. Then I shake my head in awe.

The view is amazing. Not only does it show miles and miles of rolling green hills and trees, but I can see the backyard, the massive pool in it, a pool house, and a gazebo.

“How is this three teenage guys’ house?” Shaking my head again, I let go of the curtain as reality sinks in.

These guys have everything. Like literally everything. No wonder they won’t take no for an answer. They’re used to getting everything they want. Well, materialistic items anyway. From the tidbits of stuff I’ve heard about their personal lives, I wonder if they don’t have much of anything except maybe each other. Even in the memories I’m recalling of them, it seems like they were just as close as they are now. And I feel like I know them, so what does that mean?

Blowing out an exasperated breath, I start to turn away from the window, but pause. In the distance, near the trees, I swear I can see a figure creeping around. But when I blink, it’s gone.

“It was probably just like a deer or something,” I mutter as I walk away from the window.

I flop down onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling. What am I going to do? Because if I don’t get some answers, I’m going to go crazy.

Thrumming my fingers against my leg, I decide to start someplace easy. Or, well, easier than trying to figure out the complications of my crazy mind.

I sit up and dig my new phone out of my pocket. Then I tap open the dial pad.

“Shit.” My fingers hover over the buttons as I rack my mind for either my aunt’s or uncle’s phone number. They were saved as contacts in my old phone.

On a whim, I open up the contacts to see if, by chance, somehow the guys transferred over my contacts from my broken phone, even though my phone was thrown out the window. Either they went back and picked it up or they looked up my aunt’s and uncle’s numbers, because the contacts are there.

Pressing my lips together, I give myself a few seconds to mentally prepare myself before I push the contact number for my aunt.

“Hello?” she answers after three rings, sounding really confused.

The guys must’ve gotten me a new number, I realize.

“Um … Hey, it’s me … Raven,” I say. “I was just calling to—”

“How dare you call me and act like nothing’s wrong?” she snaps before I can finish. “After how you treated Dixie May this morning and after taking off with those guys.”

I grind my teeth so hard my jaw pops. “I didn’t do anything to Dixie May this morning.”

“Yes, you did. She told me you were awful to her and tried to embarrass her in front of those guys. And then you forced your way into their car, like a little slut,” she says then mumbles, “I should’ve seen this coming. You’re just like your mother.”

Rage burns from deep inside me. “Don’t you ever talk about my mother like that!”

“Like what?” she sneers. “It’s the truth. You may not be able to remember how she was, but I do. I remember how she slept around. How your father wasn’t even sure you were his.”

“Liar!” I snap, trembling with rage. “You’re just saying this because you’re pissed off.”

“You know what? I am. But it’s still the truth,” she replies in a twistedly pleased tone. “Your mother was a slut, and your father was too nice of a guy and overlooked everything. And you’re turning into your mother, just like I thought you would.”

She’s said awful things to me before, but never like this. It’s usually only insults about me. And if she were just calling me a slut, I could take it. But the stuff she’s saying about my parents …

“If anyone’s a slut, it’s your stupid daughter,” I bite out as tears burn my eyes. “And you’re freakin’ husband. He’s a pervert, and you know it.”

“You can go to hell!” The way her voice trembles lets me know I’ve pushed her further than I ever have, and while I’m partly afraid of that, of what will happen to me, a part of me is also glad. “You are officially no longer welcome in this house. I don’t give a shit if my husband wants to keep you around so he can collect some money. No money is worth having to deal with you! You’re a worthless pile of trash. A loser. A killer. A monster. Just like your mother!” she shouts the last part. “I’m throwing your crap out onto the front lawn. If you don’t pick up by tomorrow morning, I’m putting it in the trash. And good luck with that since I heard this weird town has a lockdown that is supposed to last for days.” With that, she hangs up.

I hang up, too, rage pounding in my chest. Never have I ever heard her speak so poorly about my parents. Sure, she’s said stuff here and there about them being terrible parents, but never has she said my mom was a slut, a monster, a killer. And never has she said anything about my father not really being my father. So, why is she saying all this stuff now? Did she finally just lose the last of her patience with me or did something else happen?

Whatever the reason, I’m furious. At her. At this life. At the fact that I really don’t know if what she said is true or not. And what if it is? What if my entire life is just one big lie?

“No, I won’t let her get to me like this,” I mutter, wiping a few stray tears off my cheek. “It’s what she wants.”

But even after I get myself to calm down, worry still stirs in me. What if she really is going to kick me out? What if my uncle doesn’t intervene this time? Then what?

Then I guess I either have to live with the Raven Three or on the streets. Honestly, at this point, I’m not sure which choice is the iffiest.