I’ve never been one to keep still when shit hits the fan. My body’s default mechanism is always to keep moving, so my mind can take its time to process the information to avoid a full meltdown. And right now, my feet can’t keep up with all the wheels turning in my head.
“It’s not a joke. Whoever sent this letter knows what happened that night,” Easton adds, his face stoic and unfeeling, already coming to terms with the notion that, somehow, someone out there knows what happened in this house last spring.
“That’s absurd. We were the only ones here! How could anyone have found out?” Colt tries to reason, but when he starts grabbing at the ends of his hair, showing his aggravation, it’s a telltale sign he’s no longer as certain that this so-called society is nothing but an old wives’ tale. “Linc, when did you get this?” Colt interrogates, clutching the envelope in his grip, and rereading each damning word for the third time.
“Last night. Right before I texted all of you.”
Colt nods on autopilot, while his green eyes scrutinize every sentence as if he’ll find some missed clue as to who sent it.
“Okay. I don’t want any of us doing something stupid. This,” Colt says after a long silent pause, holding up the evil paper in his hands, “could just be someone fucking with us. No one knows shit. As long as we keep our mouths shut and pretend everything is fine, nothing will come from this.”
“You sure about that, Colt? What if whoever is behind this letter sends another one and doesn’t like the fact that we haven’t followed their instructions? You sure you’re okay with everyone finding out what we’ve done, especially from someone who might not be as forgiving with the details of that night?”
“No one will find out, Easton!” Colt yells, demonstrating how rattled he is.
I swallow dryly as I watch my two best friends butt heads. I dread that the collision of the fire and ice coursing through their veins could be worse than whatever The Society might have planned for us.
“Hey, assholes! This is not the time for you two to start your shit. We’ve got bigger fish to fry,” I chastise, bringing the two hotheads to heal.
It feels unfamiliar that I am the voice of reason. Usually, this type of stuff is Lincoln’s area of expertise. He’s always been the glue that kept our band of brothers together. The one friend we could count on who would pacify our tempers, keep us sane through our messed-up lives. However Linc’s mind is miles away, not even registering that his two best friends are ready to go at each other’s throats because of the unknown threat that may, or may not, be headed our way.
“Linc, this is your show, man. Whatever you want us to do, we’re behind you one hundred percent. It’s your call. How do you want to play this?” I add insistently, hoping that my plea is enough to slice through his apathetic state.
All our eyes fall on the friend who has more to lose than the rest of us combined, praying that his head is cool enough to get us out of this mess.
Again.
“For the time being, we can’t do much but wait,” he states pensively.
“Wait?” I exclaim flabbergasted, not liking that plan at all. “I’d rather we find these fuckers and punch some sense into them. They have no idea who they are fucking with.”
Fuck waiting. I’m more of an offense kind of guy. Show me the target, and I’m like a bull in the ring. Waiting for the shoe to drop is why I’ve been a fucking mess lately. I’d rather do something than sit on my ass, waiting for the next shitstorm to implode.
“I think they do, Finn. And violence isn’t the answer. For now, at least,” Lincoln replies, his frame suddenly turning rigid with an impenetrable, steel wall beginning to take form and rise around him.
Lincoln’s ocean-blue eyes resemble a storm of ungodly retribution. Looking at his demeanor, I’m no longer fearful of the person who believes himself to be the puppet master but troubled by the man who actually is. How far is Lincoln willing to go to keep our secret intact? From where I’m standing, his haughty glower screams that nothing is off the table.
“If this society is legit, then we can assume they outnumber us,” Lincoln continues sternly. “Which means they might have enough power to back