And they were still here.
If Celeste and her mom left…wouldn’t she have packed the essentials?
Then again, she was rich. She came from money—it was obvious the rich didn’t care about the same things poorer people did. Whereas I packed everything I owned, someone like Celeste might not.
After pushing the drawer closed, I checked the others—and then I checked the big closet in the far side of the room. Call me crazy, but it looked like all of her clothes were still here. I saw no empty hangers or half-filled drawers.
Somehow, it didn’t sit right with me.
I was about to head out, to do some more snooping—because the more and more I thought about it, the stranger it was—but as my hand touched the knob, my ears heard voices in the hall. I instantly froze, my spine growing rigid.
I could hardly hear what they were saying…but it sounded like Ollie’s voice.
Ollie’s…and someone else’s. Another man.
God, I really wanted to poke my head out and see who Ollie was talking to—wasn’t it weird to be up here while his charity gala thing was going on downstairs? Unless…unless he needed to talk about something he didn’t want anyone else to hear. Unless it was a private matter.
Once their voices faded down the hall, I quietly reached for the doorknob, twisting it slowly and pulling it open just enough to stick my head out and peek. I didn’t see Ollie or whoever was with him; they must’ve disappeared in one of the rooms further down the hall.
I stepped out of the room, closing it behind me. I practically tiptoed down the hall, and the voices grew louder with each step I took. I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t listen—whatever it was was their business, not mine, but that pit in my gut told me something was off, so I had to listen. I had to hear.
After a while, I realized the room they were in was Ollie’s office, and I stopped just beside the door opening, leaning my ear toward the wall as if it would help me hear better. I didn’t get a good look at the man Ollie was with, but judging the sound of his voice, he was a very dark and dangerous man.
Something here was wrong.
Chapter Nine – Vaughn
The last thing I wanted to do on a Saturday night was play dress up and accompany my brother to the Fitzpatrick’s house. Oliver’s house, really, since it seemed the other Fitzpatricks were simply gone, vanished into thin air.
I felt awkward in a suit, my black hair combed back and styled with gel. This, I knew, would be one boring night. Talking to the socialites, acting polite, smiling when necessary. I was not nearly as good at it as I should be, but that was mostly because I didn’t care. Once I was out of Midpark High, it wasn’t like I’d have a job that required me to be polite. I’d just be a beast they’d uncage every once in a while.
I sat in the front seat of my brother’s car—a shiny, sleek black vehicle that did anything but blend in.
Well, the car blended in well around here, anyways.
We were on our way to Oliver’s house, and I shifted my weight, tossing my brother a glance. I had many brothers, some full-blooded and others half, but he was the one who was in charge of most. He was our father’s right-hand man, the one who’d take over the entire operation once our father died.
At twenty-six years old, Markus was a monster wearing the face of an angel. He was better at playing the field than me, although he had years more practice. When I turned twenty-six, maybe I’d be that good, too.
“I still don’t know why I had to come,” I muttered, turning my dark gaze to the window.
Markus’s black hair was a bit shorter than mine, though his eyes were just as dark, if not darker. If you stared into his black, soulless eyes too long, you were liable to lose your sanity. He had a way with people.
He also looked a lot better in a suit than I did, but that was just me being whiny and awkward in my own fancy clothes.
“Because Travis is out of town on a job,” Markus hissed, shooting daggers with his eyes as we pulled up to the front gate. He hit the button to roll down his window, flashing his ID to the guard in the small guard station, who then nodded and hit a button to open the gate. Once the window was back up and no one else would hear him, he added, “And because you need to learn some responsibility.”
My hands clenched on my lap. He always knew the things to say to irritate me to no end. “I have plenty already.”
“Do you?” Markus shot back, rolling his car beside the others in the lawn. He put the vehicle into park and took out the keys, glancing at me. It looked like we were late to the party, but that’s how we always were—that way everyone could see us as we strolled in. No one would ignore the Scotts. “Because as far as I can tell, the only thing you seem to do is sit in your room and watch the days go by.”
We got out of his car, and the cool air whipped my face the moment I stood straight. We wore no jackets over our suits, but Markus seemed to be fine. I was fine too, but that was mostly because I was trying not to let his words get to me.
I didn’t just watch the days go by. I…I did homework, and stuff.
It wasn’t like I had to try too hard, because my life after Midpark High was already set in stone. I’d decided it was pointless to go to college—some of us did, some of us didn’t. I was literally just waiting until the day I became one of the family’s many instruments of vengeance and retribution.
Life was…boring now, what could I say? Although, it had gotten a little less boring with Jaz’s random addition—she still sat with me at lunch, made no moves to try to get closer to me, nor did she look at me like an outcast. The female population of Midpark fell on either side of the line, but she fell on neither. She was an outlier, someone I still couldn’t peg.
I thought about her more often than I should, probably, but I kept her to myself. The last thing I wanted was for my family to find out that a girl had wormed her way into my head. We’d lost some brothers due to shifting loyalties; my family would not lose me, too.
“So you slap me in a suit and bring me here,” I muttered, frowning as I stared up at the mansion we approached. A bellboy stood at the door, and as we neared the giant front door, he opened it for us, ushering Markus and me inside.
“In life, you will be forced to do many things you don’t want to,” Markus said, turning his dark eyes to me.
An older woman wearing all black brought us to the great hall in the back of the house, where everyone else was, already seated and eating. Numerous waiters frolicked about, rushing between tables for refills and second helpings. We were shown to our table, but we did not sit down. Markus went straight to Ollie, who stood off to the side, a tall glass in his hand as he spoke to some other people.
I wanted to leave, but since I couldn’t, I was slow to sit. The placemat before me was empty of food, but I knew that the moment I sat down it would change.
Someone came and poured me some water; someone else came and gave me a small salad bowl. I, meanwhile, wasn’t hungry for any of this shit.
I heaved a sigh as I reached for the water and took a small sip. So many people all around, the noise level in the large room was almost too much. Everyone chatted away happily, and I had to stop myself from frowning. Markus and I were probably the youngest people here. Everyone else was at least fifty—excluding the busboys and the waiters.