Into the Light (University of Isles #2)

2. Chapter 2

Chapter two

“Shut the fuck up.” I yelled as I dropped the fucker’s head back down into the bucket of water until his screams muffled and his body went slack.

The smell of the hunting cabin was usually warm and welcoming beneath the pines, but now it was filled with the stench of a filthy human. Mr. Ortiz suspected him of having information about where Walsh Solis was the night Ash was found dead. I was tasked to torture him, so I brought him out to the woods to do so.

“I think that’s enough, Boss.” I snapped my head toward Pico, my eyes bored into his before he laughed and threw up his hands.

Pico had been with me throughout the last few years. He was a born leader, so I’d been leaning on him when Mr. Ortiz tasked me with fucking people up. He was better at it. We looked like we could be blood related, both of us dressed in all black with our long black hair gelled back. Pico was bigger than me though, which was the only defining marker.

I pulled his head out of the water before questioning him. “What the fuck did Walsh do?” Grabbing his throat, I stared into the poor sap’s eyes.

“I swear to God . . . I don’t know anything,” the guy cried out. “Is-isn’t this against territory laws?”

I hesitated, looking at Pico. He gave me a silent nod to continue, ignoring his comment. As long as I wasn’t killing anyone, it wasn’t breaking the rules.

Leaning over, I pulled him by his shirt until our faces were mere inches apart. “Does it look like I give a flying fuck?”

He shook his head.

“I-I swear . . .” Tears now slid down his cheeks. Fuck that. Crying was for weak men.

“We aren’t in Isles. It’s free game.” After the words slipped from my mouth, shock laced Walsh’s right-hand man. We had grabbed him in Isles and dragged him out here. When my brother/best friend was potentially murdered, I didn’t give two fucks about the rules and regulations, but I knew better than to do this in the open fucking public, so we came to the cabin, only accessible by ATV. The one cabin that . . .

Ash was supposed to hide out here. He was supposed to be safe.

“Fuck,” I mumbled, turning toward Pico.

“He doesn’t know anything.” I concluded, and Pico tilted his head.

I didn’t want to torture this guy. I knew in my soul that Ash wasn’t murdered. Mr. Ortiz just couldn’t comprehend that his son, the one he groomed for leadership, would want anything other than that life.

“Is it my turn to say I told you so?” Pico’s eyes narrowed on me, and I punched him in the shoulder.

I opened the door, letting the cold winter air into the small cabin before telling the guys they needed to take him back to town.

“You’re letting me go?” the guy asked.

“Yeah. Go back to the Alphas and cry about this shit, though, and you’re dead.”

“O-okay. I-I swear.” He was useless. The moment he shed a tear, I knew he was too fucking scared to say anything.

Two of my guys came in after they parked their ATV and grabbed, blindfolded, and loaded him onto the back of the vehicle.

“Vamos,” they said before peeling out, weaving through snow banks between the tall pines.

“You coming?” Pico asked as he grabbed his black leather jacket.

“In a second,” I responded. “I’m going to clean this up.”

“You good, Rain?” Pico’s voice lowered, and I hated this tone. It was something I’d heard many times over the last eight months. Sympathy . . . or fuck, empathy, whatever you wanted to call it, but I fucking hated it.

“I’m fine,” I grumbled. Over the last few months, Pico was the only fucking person who actually gave a shit about me. With Mr. Ortiz constantly breathing down my neck, pressuring me to unravel Ash’s fate, I juggled roles. I went from being the Vice President to the President of the Den, a title I had no intention of seeking.

All I ever wanted was to finish my damn studies, slip under the radar of the Cartel, and let my stepbrother take the reins. But no, life threw me into this position, and I damn well knew that after graduation, I’d be taking on the full leadership role, a prospect I vehemently resisted. My dreams involved lying back, escaping into books, and crafting worlds that offered respite from real life. Because reality often sucked, and reading was an escape.

Yet, these past eight months carved fury into me, molding me into this hardened exterior. That’s why I reluctantly agreed to this plan—to appease Mr. Ortiz and maybe uncover buried truths at the Alpha house and untangle the enigma surrounding Ash’s gut-wrenching demise. Alas, our efforts resulted in only dead ends, which was the common conclusion and theme throughout these last few months.

I’d have to go back to Mr. Ortiz and let him know we still had nothing and maybe we should consider that Ash did actually . . . kill himself. While I understood that to be a possibility, Mr. Ortiz refused to believe it. My mother, his wife, sided with him, too.

“You taking classes again?” Pico asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, gotta repeat last year’s spring semester.” I shook my hair off my shoulders. I really needed a fucking haircut. It was just one way I had stopped giving a shit.

“I cannot believe your professors failed you,” Pico said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“ Me , either.” I failed one semester of classes, but my adviser assured me that if I took summer classes, I could graduate with the rest of my class. Mr. Ortiz was upset that I wasn't taking business as a major, but it was too late to change majors since I was already a senior.

“Are you taking any electives?” he asked. A conversation that would have been so normal for two college students to have, but after waterboarding a kid mere moments ago, it felt a little ridiculous.

“Yeah. I gotta go see my counselor about what I need to do.” I shrugged.

“Sounds . . . dope?” We laughed, knowing electives were just filler classes to complete my schedule.

“See you back at the house.” Pico opened the door, and that cool winter wind blew through the small hunting cabin again.

“Hey, Pico?” I asked right as he was about to step out.

Pico’s gaze locked onto mine, and I saw that familiar sympathy in his eyes. He knew what I was about to ask—it was a question that had become almost routine between us. His girlfriend, Marissa, was connected to her , and I couldn’t help but wonder about her. I hadn’t spoken her name in eight long months, and I had no intention of breaking that streak.

Reality had hit me hard, forcing me to take on the responsibility of protecting her as Ash would have wanted, but as time passed and the influence of those around me took hold, resentment built. I couldn’t help but blame her for what had happened. A part of me harbored anger because her brother stayed in Isles all summer, hiding out on neutral ground, while she enjoyed her life in her house, free from the aftermath of that night.

Anger had consumed me to exhaustion. I thought about Ember every single day, wondering how she was doing, and would get updates from the housekeeper I’d hired for her. She had sent them on vacation this last month, so it’d gone silent.

“How is she?” The words finally escaped my lips. Pico’s lips pulled into a tight straight line before he said the same thing he always did.

“She’s good,” he’d mumble, and then be off on his merry way.

His hesitation made me step closer to him. The way his eyes darted to my feet, then back up, made me think there was something else.

“What?” I shot out. “Tell me.”

“She’s . . .” He scuffed his boot against the wood floors of the cabin.

“Fucking spit it out,” I demanded, my tone getting more intense and anxious with each passing second.

“She’s back in Isles for the semester,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, so I had to lean in to make sure I understood what he said.

“B-back in Isles?” Why didn’t I know this?

I was so caught up in my own issues I didn’t check with Santiago about her plan for the new semester.

I gripped his jacket, pulling him closer. Pico was larger than me in most ways—taller, broader, and generally more built, however, my relentless training at the gym since the bonfire incident had leveled the playing field between us.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” I growled.

“Chill, man. You asked me not to talk with her, and I told you I wouldn’t. Marissa just told me.” He shook me off like I was nothing.

“Why is she coming back?” I rubbed my temples. This wasn’t part of the plan.

This wasn’t part of the damn plan . . . not even close. I slammed my fist against the wooden wall next to the door, my frustration boiling over. Ash would’ve known how to handle this shit, how to turn it around. But no, fate thought it would be funny to make me the leader, me—a guy who never asked for this, who never wanted to be in charge, who was stumbling through the mess like a raging idiot. Just a pissed-off college kid forced into a role I never signed up for.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” Pico stood on the threshold, shuffling from foot to foot.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“She’s staying on campus.”

“I mean, if she’s coming back to Isles, there really isn’t anywhere else to stay.” I was exasperated at how long it was taking him to get to the point.

“What I meant to say is that she’s staying in the same apartment building as Marissa.” I closed my eyes momentarily, imagining the look on her face when I told her to leave Isles and the way she broke in front of me as I told her the news of what happened.

“Okay.” This wasn’t a big deal, and honestly, I was glad she was staying with people she actually knew and not strangers that could ostracize her. I swallowed, walking away from the door, letting Pico leave.

“You know you can talk about it. He’s not around, it’s okay if you li—”

I growled. “Shut the fuck up.”

I didn’t want to talk about it. My feelings confused me enough. She was Ash’s, and even though he wasn’t here anymore, she still was.

“Okay, okay.” He let out an exasperated sigh before saying goodbye and leaving one ATV and a radio with me in case I needed anything.

I closed the door and turned back to the small cabin. It was just one simple room with a small outhouse in the back. It had been built for the Den for the spring bonfire, and in the ten years it had been standing, no one from the Alpha house had found it.

I dropped to the edge of the small full-sized bed and looked toward where I was torturing the fucker from the Alpha house.

“Fuck you, Ash,” I whispered.

My existence was meant to be veiled in shadows, a phantom lurking in the background. This transformation into someone else, someone unexpected, was forced upon me, and I would give anything to revert to the simplicity of before. I wished everyone could grasp the unfiltered truth I carried, the truth of what truly unfolded. Ash’s internal battles were known only to me, even more intimately than Ember could fathom. I knew Ash had killed himself, so searching for a murderer was pointless. I needed to arrange the puzzle pieces to see the larger picture.

I guarded the knowledge of his struggles relentlessly, even in death, protecting his vulnerabilities, and I did this for one reason, for one person. She deserved to hold onto the perception of him as her heroic figure. He deserved the dignity that extended beyond this chaos. Which is why Mr. Ortiz’s relentless pursuit was nonsensical. This entire campus-wide uproar, spawned by the enigma of Ash’s fate, was ridiculous. The most frustrating aspect was that, regardless of their stance, people placed some level of blame on Ember. As she returned, she’d be heading right into the lion’s den. Marissa would have warned her about the rumors, but I wasn’t sure she understood the extent.

I was ready to do whatever it took to keep her safe, not because I had to or because of any obligation, but simply because . . . damn it, I wanted to.