Page 40 of The Blood we Crave

Spotless happiness that wasn’t tainted by the world.

The silence rang blistering cold when she died, and the world was a little bleaker without her laughter in it.

I don’tlikepeople, but if I was qualified to do that, I would’ve liked her. From the moment she came into our circle, there was not an iota of judgment. The fact we’d been publicly crucified and deemed beasts did not affect the way she cared for Silas. She refused to let the town and her presumptuous family sway her loyalty to us.

And there’s nothing I respect in a person more than loyalty.

“Speaking of her.” Alistair clears his throat. “There is something we all need to talk about.”

I knew this conversation was a good portion of why we’d made the trip as a unit instead of separately like we normally do.

“What happened?”

I sigh, putting my hands behind my head. “Alistair and Rook’s little toys have played detective. So since the girls are in control of their groins, we are required to listen to what they say.”

While I was able to tolerate the presence of Rosemary, I revolted against her twin, Sage. A sneaky, lying strawberry blonde who’d wedged herself beneath Rook’s skin like a tick.

I doubt, highly, I could ever look at her without wanting to throttle her. I’d spent months of my life slicing into Rook’s back because of her mistakes. And while he was willing to forgive her for the sake of love, she does not have that liberty with me. And she never will.

“Thatcher, I’m tired of talking with you about this.” Alistair’s jaw tightens, his knuckles flexing. “The next time you insult Briar, I won’t give you a warning to watch your mouth.”

My opinions on Briar Lowell have stayed the same since I met her. She is a thorn in my side, buried deep, and there is no getting her out until Alistair has his fill. I do, at the very least, respect her mentality and reasoning for hating me so much.

She’s a handsy thief who’d stolen the edge from Alistair. A girl who, like us, has sharp teeth, ones she loves to snap at me when I get a little too close to her beloved Lyra.

Which leads me to believe Lyra hasn’t told her dear friend about her favorite little hobby. I wonder if Briar’s perspective of me would shift if she knew the truth. That Lyra was the one seeking me out, shoving her tiny button nose into business.

I wonder if she would be less hostile if she knew I’d saved Lyra from a fate my father had warranted her. I’d granted her mercy in my inexperience, and how was I repaid? Having to deal with a constant cherry-scented shadow and her snippy best friend.

“What did they find out? Are they alright?” Silas asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Names of more missing girls. They’ve been looking into all of them. Sage says there are at least fifteen in our area. They want to do something about it. They want to help,” Rook says, filling him in on what the girls had already told us.

“And you guys think we should stay out of it?”

“I think we started this for Rosemary. Not for girls that aren’t our problem,” I snip.

“They may not be our problem, Thatcher, but my girlfriend is,” Rook argues, looking to Silas. “And I have the feeling they are going to do something regardless of if we help or not. So the way I see it, we find out who’s running the show. Take down the organization from the inside ’cause we sure as fuck can’t go to the police.”

“Did you not hear a word Detective Breck said when he had a gun pressed to my skull?” I ask, leaning forward. “They were only the beginning. We have no idea who is involved, who is working for them. One slipup and you’ll be begging for mercy in prison.”

“Never took you as the kind of man to be afraid of anything, Thatcher.”

I tongue my cheek, trying not to think of Rook’s head popping between my fingers as I lean towards him.

“I’m not going to prison over people that aren’t my concern. Spend my life in a penitentiary for what? Trying to play the hero? Are you forgetting who I am? Whoyouare?” I hiss, my eyebrows slanted. “We are doing this for Silas. For Rosemary. That’s it.”

He meets my disapproval with rage, his impulsive behavior bubbling up, and my eyes dare him to take a swing at me. I don’t fight because it’s messy, and my suits are too expensive for a cheap swing. But right now, if he laid a hand on me, I’d make sure he’d remember why he needs to watch his mouth with me.

“Thatcher is right, Rook.” Alistair grabs his shoulder, the older brother none of us had or particularly wanted coming out. “This is about Si and Rosie. It’s up to him.”

Rook stares me down for another moment, just long enough for me to smirk and shoot him a sarcastic wink. But he decides against knocking his knuckles into my porcelain face, turning his attention back to Silas.

Am I fond of the idea of girls missing and being sold into sex slavery? No. It’s disgusting and, if I’m honest, tacky.

Does that mean I want to risk our freedom for them? Also no.

I’d spent years of my life protecting the three of them without them so much as noticing, and I would not have it blow up in my face now.

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