Page 62 of Look What You Made Me Do

Jackson flicks his chin at me. “Which brings us back to the reason we’re here. Ava is pretty upset about what just went down. You should have given her a heads up at the very fuckin’ least.”

Tilting my head back, I sigh heavily. “When I chose Ava as my consort, I made itveryclear to her that a) I won’t be faithful, and b) this consort shit is temporary. So whatever disappointment she’s feeling is on her.”

Jackson pushes out a breath. “I just don’t want shit getting complicated with the Debs. With the police following you around like a pack of wolves, we have enough to deal with.”

“Any updates on all that?” Ash asks.

I shake my head. “When I know something, you’ll know something.”

They’re just worried about me. I know that. We’re bros and what happens to one of us happens to all of us. But I can’t tell them what I don’t know, and I wish they’d stop asking.

“No news is good news, right?” Ash offers.

“I’ve tried to check in with my uncle at the Sheriff’s station,” Jackson says, “but I have a feeling Nawar is deliberately keeping him out of the loop. He must know my uncle has a connection to the Burning Crown.”

The Burning Crown is a secret society, but it’s not so underground that the police don’t know we exist. And it’s definitely no secret who the founding families are. We’ve been around for over a century, so keeping that shit under wraps would be nearly impossible. But by some miracle, we’ve been able to maintain secrecy surrounding our rituals and bylaws.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. All they’re going to find is a shit ton of porn on my computer, anyway, so it’s whatever.” I sigh, propping my asscheek on the back of the leather sofa. “While we’re on the topic, I do have a question for you guys, though. Wyn went to see Gabriel’s mom, and she said the witness was someone with the last name Pendleton. Does that name sound familiar to any of you?”

We might be in the middle of Southern California, but Malibu is small, and ExU is even smaller. Between the four of us, there’s no one we don’t know in this town. I’ve personally never encountered anyone with that last name, though.

Christian shakes his head but says nothing.

“I’ve never met anyone with that last name,” Jackson says. “But I can ask around.”

Hm.My gaze shifts to Ash, who hasn’t said anything.

“Ash? What’s good?” I ask, already mentally up in that bedroom with Wyn. As soon as I get back upstairs, I’m peeling that dress off her, and paying my respects to every dip and curve on her body. Saliva already coats my mouth, ready to worship.

Ash glances up at me, then looks around at the other guys, like he’s wondering if he should say anything.

Oh, shit. Here we go.

“Just spit it out,” I say. “I have a chick upstairs waiting for my cock.”

“Ugh,dude,” Christian says, disgusted. “Why’d you have to go and mention your cock? No one in this room wants that.”

I roll my eyes at him, but my focus is on Ash, who’s acting a little too squirrely for my liking. He shifts and pulls in a deep breath. “Yeah, I’ve heard that name before.”

“Cool,” I say impatiently. “Then tell us who it is so we can all go on with our fucking day.”

Jezus.

He rubs a hand over his face, suddenly uncomfortable. “Fine, but listen, when I tell you, you’ve got to swear you guys won’t do anything rash.”

Rash?I flash him a look. “Dude, get the fuck on with it.”

“He’s from a rival secret society known as The Order of Shadow and Ash.”

I blink at him. “Arivalsecret society? Are you fucking with us?”

“Nah, that’s impossible,” Christian says. “We’re the only secret society in the area and it’s been that way for over a hundred years.”

“Has it, though?” Ash makes a face and lifts his hands. “Listen, I’m just telling you what I know. Some guy approached me last year about becoming a member. He didn’t tell me his name, but I took a photo of his license plate and had someone look into him. His name is August Pendleton.”

I’m so fucking confused, and the only thing that occurs to me is that Ash is indeed fucking with us. If there were a secret society around here, we’d know about it. No question.

“Why would he try to recruit you?” Jackson’s gaze is stoic. Out of all of us, he’s the hardest to read. I’m sure it has to do with his fucked-up childhood, but he’s always been that way.

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