The Promise (Wolfe Creek Duet #2)

16

ADRIAN

This family is so goddamn dysfunctional. I flick open my lighter and let the flame lick the tip of my cigarette.

It’s chilly out, even in my long sleeve shirt. Well, not mine—it’s Damian’s. I’ve been borrowing his clothes until the ones he’s ordered me come in. I pull at the collar of the expensive shirt. It’s not my style.

I’ve spent the last ten years in a jumpsuit. I’m happy to be out of it, but this feels too far in the other direction. I take a drag and let the smoke mix with my breath in the crisp air.

In prison, all I had to worry about was staying in my lane, making the right friends, and being useful so that I could bargain for the things I wanted. Those things seem easier than the shit show going on here.

Sitting in on Sutton’s call with his dad earlier was uncomfortable, but maybe that’s only because he’s always had the perfect family. The rest of us were dealt crappy hands. It’s strange watching something like that fall apart right before your eyes.

Sutton aside, Damian’s got his own weird shit going on. I walked in on him fucking Thea on the kitchen floor while she resisted. And he was wearing a mask. A chuckle escapes as I recall the scene. I’ve been out of the game for a while, but this isn’t the kind of kinky shit I expected from my brothers. I’m not hating it though.

I pegged Thea for a stuck-up bitch, although I guess she has to release some of that tension every so often. It’s always the ones you least expect that are the freakiest. If I didn’t hate her so much, I might want a piece of that, too.

Wes seems to be the only one of the bunch that doesn’t have something going on, aside from his phone being Grand Central Station, but that’s just his clients or business, I assume. He’s kept to himself, mostly. I don’t blame him. We were always getting into something when we were younger. These days, things are different. Trouble’s the last thing we want to get mixed up in.

Cole’s absence still doesn’t sit right with me. It’s not an argument I can get into with my brothers—I just have to deal with it on my own. If Thea wasn’t around, I think they’d be working harder to find and get him help. She’s the barrier. Their feelings for her have clouded their judgment.

I’d handle her, although I’m not exactly eager to get locked up again. Plus, if I did anything to her, my brothers wouldn’t hesitate to put me in my place. That place might be in a grave. She has some kind of power over them that I don’t understand.

Taking another pull from my cigarette, the red stones on my finger catch my attention. I look away quickly, my eyes traveling down the length of the river. When I first got here, Damian pointed out to the left, showing me that Wolf Creek isn’t too far away. I have mixed feelings about that place. It was all good until it wasn’t. I don’t know if I’ll ever go back there. I don’t know if I can.

Visions of me running around in the woods as a kid make me think of the happier times. There’s a distinct line in memory that I’ve created. The before and the after. On one side, I see a young boy with wild black hair like his mother, smiling, blowing out birthday candles, and performing in a school play. On the other side, I see death and pain and betrayal. The after is consumed with memories of my mother lying in a hospital bed, withering away into nothing as cancer tore her apart. The after is standing in front of her casket, unable to cry. The after is having to go live with the only family I had left—my uncle.

My fist smacks against the railing of the deck. “Fuck that place,” I mutter, shaking off the pain in my hand.

“Hey.” I turn to see Wes poking his head out of the door. “You ready? We’re heading out.”

I roll my eyes and flick my cigarette over the railing. “Do I have to go?”

My brother narrows his eyes. “Yeah, we’re all going. We need to do something other than sit around this house. C’mon.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” I grumble. “One minute,” I assure in exasperation as he stares me down.

Wes is insisting on going out on one of the busiest nights of the year. I’m not up for dodging sugar fueled kids in ridiculous costumes. But I have a feeling arguing with him would be far worse. I follow behind.

On my dresser, I grab the gun that my brother insisted I carry. Honestly, I’m surprised he gave it to me. He knows how I feel about Cole and technically, it’s illegal for me to carry it. He’s made me vow to only use it if my life is in danger. We both know what he means.

He thinks if Cole comes back around he’ll try to hurt me. I know he won’t. So I didn’t argue with him, I don’t see myself using it. I tuck it into my holster and pull my shirt down to cover it.

As I’m walking through the closet that connects Damian’s room to mine, I spot something familiar and get an idea. I grab the bloody skull mask lying on the accessory case in the center of the room, tucking it into my back pocket. No reason for me not to have a little fun if I’m being forced to go.

Sutton, Wes, and Damian are standing around the kitchen island—waiting on Thea, I guess. I spot the silver top and familiar shape of a flask in Sutton’s back pocket. I’ll need some of that later.

“Hey man.” Damian comes over to me. I’m sure I’m about to get a list of rules about tonight. “I got the contract for the shop signed. It’ll be ready to start renovating soon. Happy early birthday.”

“D! Are you serious?” I’m floored. This wasn’t what I was expecting from him. I feel a tinge of guilt about my earlier thought.

He smiles at me. “Yeah, we’re making it happen.” I move to throw my arms around him, then catch myself. I clap a hand on his back instead.

“Okay, I’m ready. Sorry, lacing these boots was a bitc—” Thea comes up the stairs and I can’t help the thoughts that go through my mind. I mean, what does she expect? “What the hell? I thought we were all dressing up.”

My eyes travel up the black combat boots at her feet to her fishnet covered thighs. I ball my fists, my fingers want to tear into them. She’s wearing a blood red bodysuit with a sheer black lace dress, if you can call it that, over it.

The dress has two wide splits that show off her legs with a thin front panel that hangs down the center. Around her waist is a black lace up corset.

Her dark hair is teased and wild. She’s done her makeup smokey with a deep red lip and a dribble of fake blood coming from the corner of her mouth. She’s some kind of gothic vampire seductress.

“Can we make Halloween a weekly holiday?” Wes asks as he moves toward her.

“Weekly? Let’s make it daily,” Sutton chimes in.

I watch Wes grab Thea by the waist roughly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him, not wanting to mess up her lipstick. He dips and kisses her neck instead, grabbing a handful of ass at the same time. I can’t help the ache in my cock. My body wants her, despite hating her.

My palm smooths over my pants instinctively. I look over to find Damian looking at me with warning in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, knowing what he’s thinking. Don’t touch her. That’s the look he’s giving me. I may have a loophole in mind, though.

“Why didn’t anyone else dress up?” She pouts with a hand on her hip.

Sutton looks around at each of us. “Damian and Adrian are going as twins, so you’re not alone.”

I look at my brother. Jesus. We’re wearing nearly identical shirts. “I’ll go change.”

“No, we have to leave. We’re already running behind,” Wes protests. “Let’s go.”

I don’t move. I’m not going out looking like I matched with Damian.

Wes’ eyes narrow. “It’s going to be dark. No one will see you.”

“You heard the man,” Damian says, backing him up.

I don’t like it, but I’m outnumbered. We head out the door and pile into Damian’s Audi. He needs a bigger car if we’re going to be doing group outings. After arguing for five minutes, we settle on Damian and Wes in the front, with myself, Thea, and Sutton in the back.

Leaning my head back on the seat, I try to ignore her thigh pushing up against me and the sweet scent rolling off of her. This better not be a long drive.

THEA

I’m nearly gagging by the time we get to the abandoned-looking building that Damian parks at. The smell of cigarette smoke coming off of Adrian is repulsive. I practically push him out the door as I try to get fresh air.

“What’s your problem?” He sneers.

I fan my face, pulling the clean air toward me. “You smell disgusting. Can’t you vape or something? If you’re going to kill yourself with that shit, you might as well smell good while doing it.”

His face reddens and his eyes darken. I’m expecting him to say something slick. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. Adrian pops one between his lips, flicks his lighter, and sucks until the tip burns red. Blowing out a puff of smoke, he says, “Let it burn, Havoc.” He punctuates the last word.

My face scrunches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Adrian’s smile cuts wickedly across his face, sharp canines I hadn’t noticed before make him look monstrous. “Means lots of things, Havoc,” he replies, emphasizing the last word again.

Is he calling me Havoc? “Okay, Sparky,” I retort snidely.

His smile falls. Good.

“Are we quite done with the back and forth?” Damian asks before we can throw any more punches. I want to say no, but I know he already feels like he’s babysitting two children. I don’t want to stress him out anymore.

Taking Damian’s arm, I pull him down for a quick kiss. “Sorry,” I apologize sweetly, before throwing a daggering gaze back at Adrian.

Taking in the building, there is one clear thing that gives away where we are. A black banner hangs over a thin strip of concrete over a row of blacked-out windows. It reads Haunted House in orange, drippy letters. A rush of excitement floods through me. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been in a haunted house.

I glance at Wes. “Are they open? There’s no one here.” There’s a couple of cars in the parking lot, but no line or lingering visitors outside.

He smiles and motions for us to follow him without giving an answer.

Wes knocks on the front door. We wait a few seconds before a lanky, middle-aged man opens it and shakes hands with my boyfriend. The man holds the door open for all of us.

“Here, that should cover it,” Wes tells the man as he hands him a stack of bills. “How long do we have?”

The man counts the money as he answers. “My guys are here for the next hour, then they’re closing up the place. I don’t have everyone working. I know you said you wanted to keep it to four or five guys. So you’ve got my best scare actors tonight.” He finishes counting, then looks up at Wes. “Very discreet as well.” The wink the man gives him leaves me unsettled.

I look around, but aside from the red glowing bulb directly above us, we’re surrounded by darkness.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate you coming through for me.” I’m entirely confused by this interaction, unable to ignore the knots forming in my stomach. My senses perk up in response to my anxiousness.

Suddenly, the air feels too cold. Goosebumps race over my exposed skin. There’s a faint sweet smell in the air. I try to push away my nervousness. I’m surrounded by three very protective men. Adrian’s the only one I actually need to worry about, although I don’t think he’ll try anything with his brothers around.

The man points just beyond me. “Go right through there. You’ll figure your way out… eventually,” he drawls in a sinister tone as he backs out the door we came in through.

“You heard the man. Take the lead, blue eyes.” Wes’ dark eyes look evil in the glow of the red light. In fact, the four of them standing there, stone faced, look absolutely menacing. I don’t make a move. There’s no fucking way I’m heading in there first—certainly not with them at my back. “Run,” he growls, lunging for me.

Against my better judgment, I do. I run. I push through strips of thick black rubber hanging from the ceiling and I don’t dare sneak a look back. Once I break through to the other side, I look around, but my eyes haven’t adjusted. I don’t know where to go.

Then, something odd strikes me. I don’t hear anything. No footsteps. No breathing. Absolute silence and that chills me to the bone.

Almost as soon as I realize that, it’s like the entire haunted house comes to life. That faint sweet smell gets stronger just as smoke billows around my feet. Dim lights flicker to life. Distant sounds of wailing and screaming pierce through the silence. I can just barely make out the path I’m supposed to follow.

But where are the guys?

Huffing, I turn back the way I came. Pushing through the strips of plastic, I search for the red glow of the entrance light. I reach the end, but there’s no light at all. With one hand out in front of me and the other out to the side, I feel for a wall where I might find the light switch. I find neither.

“Wes! Sutton! Damian!” I shout each of their names and get nothing in return. “This isn’t funny!”

Finally, I find the building’s front door. I turn the handle, however, it’s locked. I shove into it, then bang on it. My panic rises because I’m locked in this place with no sign of the guys anywhere.

Annoyingly, the fear of the unknown awakens my arousal. I try to shove it away, but it’s persistent.

This is what they wanted. This is what Wes planned. But why leave me in here with the scare actors? Why wouldn’t they participate?

With the only exit I know of locked, I realize I’m going to have to make my way through the haunted house if I want to get out. Taking a deep breath, I make my way forward once again. At least there’s some lighting up ahead.

Once again, I make my way through the strips of hanging rubber until I’m back to the room with the flickering lights and the fog. There’s an opening up ahead. There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s not real. I wish the logic would ease the terror coursing through me. It doesn’t.

I remember the man saying he has four or five guys working tonight. As I make my way through the opening, it’s apparent the place is understaffed. Scenes where someone should be performing are empty. Frankenstein’s monster lies beneath a sheet, moaning and lifting his arms every few seconds. The madman should be with him.

Then there’s the bars embedded in the walls. I keep expecting someone to reach through them and grab me, but no one does. Something about the desolation is more unnerving.

The path juts to the right and I have to turn a corner. It’s been quiet for too long—there has to be something up ahead. There has to be.

I take the corner slowly, peering around it first and assessing what I might be walking into. More flickering lights and maniacal laughter. But no one is waiting for me as far as I can see. I exhale and move forward.

Suddenly, I’m yanked backwards. My back slams into something hard. No. Not something. Someone.

I scream as I try to get away.

“There’s no one coming to help you,” an eerie voice rasps in my ear.