Page 2 of Liberty

Chapter 2

STERLING

Welp,I was out of here, and honestly, even with the excessively fast speed that comes with being a vampire, I could not leave this joint fast enough. The minute Mr. Collins’ car pulled away, I was grabbing my coat and heading for the front door, which seemed like the best route as any to take during an escape. Except, the moment my foot stepped outside the door, my body was thrown backward into the house by an unseen force.

Behind me, Ellis slowly clapped his hands, wearing one of his signature cocky grins. The fucker talked me into so many poor decisions as a child wearing that smirk. “You can’t refuse the maker.”

“He’s fucking dead.” And I knew it all too well; I felt it in a hollow spot in my chest. I felt the moment his life snapped from his body, and the connection tore from my own moments before he turned to ash.

“You think the killing of James would stop his power? He’s planned this for years, decades, maybe.”

He was telling the truth. James was nothing if not a solid planner. Still, the truth wasn’t what I wanted to hear. What I wanted to hear was that I was officially a free man. That I could walk the fuck out of that door, stroll down the street, hail a cab, and be at my penthouse within an hour. I should have known I would never get that lucky. The day started with my cappuccino spilling down the front of my shirt and ended with fucking Ellis and Oak in the cold dead flesh.

I turned slowly. “There has to be a way out of this fucking mess.”

Oak strolled toward me, his hands in his pocket as he took in every detail. “You don’t even know if it’s a mess yet. We haven’t read through the envelope.”

“I know that the two of you are standing right in front of me, which is enough to make it a mess.” How had I managed to go so long without seeing their faces, only to now be trapped with both of them standing two feet away?

Oak just shrugged. And the fact that nothing seemed to phase him often made this whole situation that much more infuriating. He should be as angry as I was, yet he stood there like a damn unwavering lump of wood as he said, “I’ll read it.”

Did I mention how much I hated that he was such an information seeker? “Always the fucking logical thinker. I see some things haven’t changed.”

Without even missing a beat or changing his tone to reflect aggregation, he spit out, “You’re right, like your rash decision-making and hot-headed attitude.”

For the record, I didn’t think of myself as a hothead. My mother, God bless her soul, liked to refer to my attitude as passionate. It’s true, I might get stuck in my ways and unwilling to budge, but I didn’t find those qualities necessarily the worst. And rash decision-makers had way more fun.

Ellis bit back another one of his smirks, and I glared. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” He crossed his arms in front of him and paused before letting his voice reach a high pitch as he said, “My mom said I’m just passionate.”

We were kids when I told him that once, maybe twice, and these bastards never let me live it down since. “It’s fucking true.”

He held his hands out. “Whatever you say, man.”

I couldn’t be left with them; I’d made up my mind. I stepped toward the front door. This time the strength and power of the force field’s blow had doubled, my skin singed, filling the air with the smell of seared flesh. I cursed, a string long and loud enough that I was sure I had just taught any child within a ten-mile radius a new language. My skin burned, but I knew that within a minute or two, the pain would subside, the wounds would mend, and soon there wouldn’t be a trace I had gotten hurt.

“Are you going to try a few more times? Maybe at some point, you will be successful in doing the job and killing yourself.” One could only hope.

“Fuck off, Ellis, go mind your business. No one told you to follow me.” God, why did I always sound like I was ten when they were around?

“No one had to tell me to follow you to your own execution; I would happily take a front-row seat.” He leaned back against the wall, his dark eyes piercing into me as he watched me, waiting for me to make another fucking ridiculous move.

I learned my lesson, though. No use entertaining him further. I stomped past him, nearly pushing Oak as I stepped back into the living room. “Let’s get this fucking reading over with. I’ve got a penthouse to get back to.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot. How’s Wall Street doing lately?”

Ellis’ words dripped with sarcasm, but still, I wouldn’t let him bother me. “Nicely, thanks. How’s table making going? I hear that’s what you’re into this decade.”

“Ah, but you’ve cared enough to hear about me. That’s so fucking sweet of you.” He bent down and picked up the envelope. On the front, our names were scrolled in James’ handwriting. “Table making is going pretty darn good, orders coming in from all over the country.”

I found the closest chair and plopped into it, giving myself a great enough distance between Oak and Ellis, so if one of them attacked, and I was sure one would by the end of this reading, I had enough time to defend myself. As if the other two were thinking the exact same thing, they each distanced themselves at two corners of the room.

“How should we go about this?” Oak asked, and I hated that he was always so fucking civil and levelheaded when he should be ready to blow.

“We read the fucking thing,” I announced.

“Who goes first?” Ellis asked, even though I knew in his mind it would be him.

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