Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
That door is also rarely used, and it not only has a deadbolt, but a heavy chair that is placed in front of it at all times.
The chair is still in that spot.
There’s no evidence it’s been moved or touched at all, and even the small amount of dust on the floor shows that the feet haven’t been moved anytime recently.
I run my hands through my hair, leaning back on one of the tall bookshelves in the reading room.
I pace around for a moment, heading over toward the open arch.
This room has given me a little surge of guilt every time I’ve walked past it in recent weeks.
It’s where Hunter dropped to his knees and blew me, and where we very nearly got caught.
Right now, that world feels a million miles away.
I feel like I’m surrounded by danger, everywhere I look.
I just want to stop time.
To make everyone else in the world go away other than the one person I want to be around, right now.
I scrub my palms over my face, and a heavy feeling settles in my chest as I realize something very dark.
The one person I want to be around.
For my whole life, the person who came to mind has been Weston.
But right now, I only thought of Hunter.
I’m pacing around the reading room, listening to the sound of the other guys checking all around the house, when I hear footsteps coming from nearby.
I feel a hand on my shoulder.
Weston’s there.
And a new form of guilt pools inside me.
I’ve never seen more fear on his face, and yet I was in here, only thinking about his brother.
“Rayne,” Wes says to me. “I think we need to quit pretending that this is coming from somewhere outside of Onyx House. It’s so obvious that this… that all of this is coming from someone in here.”
I shake my head. “No. There’s no way. We know everyone here. We’ve talked to everyone about this. We know where every guy goes, what every guy does.”
“We can’t be everywhere all the time, though. That box was in Noah’s room all week. Who else could have access to that?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “We have parties all the time, and people come over almost every day.”
“And guess what? Noah is one of the only people who actually locks his door upstairs,” Weston says. “Nobody’s getting in there during a party.”
I feel sick as I lean against the wall. “Wes, you’re not saying…”
“I don’t think it’s Noah. No.”
“It couldn’t be. I know you’re my best friend, but Noah is practically like a brother to me at this point, too—”
“It’s not Noah,” a voice says from the other side of the room.
Hunter walks in with a serious look on his face.
He’s so handsome he practically takes my breath away, and I can’t do a damn thing about it.
“You say that like you’re just so sure of it,” Wes says.
“I am sure.”
“Hunter Knox, smarter than everyone and apparently as all-knowing as the gods above, too,” Weston says with a distinct bitter tone.
He’s thinking about the text he showed me earlier.
This anger isn’t just directed at Hunter, it’s directed at their father.
Hunter frowns. “I don’t have to be smart to know that Noah’s innocent. I know he’s innocent.”
“How?”
“Because I put those notes into the box.”
20
Hunter
My brother’s hands are on my chest before I can say anything more.
He shoves me up against the wall, anger snapping out of him in a way I’ve never seen before in my life.
I’ve always been a better fighter than him, and he’s always known it.
Which is why it takes me by complete surprise when he slams me into the hard bookshelf, my arm hitting the edge of a hardbound book as my spine connects with the wood.
“Weston,” I say, but it’s too late. “Let me talk.”
“Fuck no.” There’s a blind, bitter desperation in his eyes.
This is about more than just the notes.
It’s about the text our father sent us earlier today, yes.
But it’s also about years and years of built-up frustration that Weston’s never been able to channel anywhere except the football field.
“Wes, please,” Rayne says from beside him, jumping in immediately and trying to pull my brother back.
“Rayne, I love you, but don’t fucking touch me right now,” Wes says through clenched teeth, still staring right at me. “This is between me and him.”
“Hunter isn’t trying to kill you, Wes. Let him talk—”
“He’s been the one who’s always talked, for our entire fucking life,” Wes says. “When is it my turn? Why am I always the afterthought? Why don’t you ever have consequences for a goddamned thing you do, Hunter, even when it’s a sick prank on me like putting a note in a box that makes me think I’m going to die?”
I reach up and calmly try to put my hands around Weston’s wrists, attempting to pry him off of me.