Page 13 of Unmask
“Brock?” I hesitated. “Does your offer still stand?”
A series of dings came through the line that sounded like a car door opening. “To stay at my house?”
“Yeah.”
“Always.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Okay. See you soon.”
As I hung up, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I didn’t know what the next move was, but at least I would be somewhere familiarandwith civilization and within reach of DoorDash. Brock’s house, however, wasn’t a very inconspicuous location. It was a risk. Kreed or Donovan could easily find me, but I was banking on my cousin having something up his sleeve to keep me hidden.
He was good for shit like that.
Now I just had to wait and figure out what I planned to tell Rusty. He’d gone out of his way to drive me here last night, give me a safe haven, and I ran the first chance I got.
Some habits died hard.
Each minute that ticked by felt like an hour. I couldn’t decide if the anxiety in my stomach was because I didn’t want Rusty to come back or if I did. Regardless, I sucked at waiting. It gave my brain too much free range.
With nothing else to do, I scrolled through my phone, searching but telling myself I wasn’t looking forhisname. I should block his number and delete him from my phone, but as I stared at Kreed’s contact, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not yet.
4
KAYLOR
The low crunch of tires against gravel and snow sent a spike of adrenaline through my veins. I moved toward the window, peering out through the dusty glass just as a sleek black Land Rover rolled to a stop outside the cabin. Brock. And he hadn’t come alone.
Grayson stepped out of the passenger seat, scanning the area like he had too much experience in shady situations. He was bundled in a puffer coat and had a beanie pulled over his head. The Elite in general were extraordinarily good-looking, but I’d always thought Grayson the sexiest, and becoming a dad hadn’t changed his appeal. If anything, it made him weirdly hotter. His gaze assessed the cabin before he turned toward the front door.
Brock, on the other hand, took a less cautious approach, stalking right for the cabin, finding me the only thing on his mind, knowing Grayson had his back. Classic Brock, scowling, unfazed, as if nothing rattled him, but I knew better.
I’d always envied the friendship my cousin had with Grayson, Micah, and Fynn. The Elite. It was more than a name. It meant something. To each other. To everyone in this town. To the girlslucky enough to call them theirs. Some bonds went deeper than just friendship. The four of them were tied together in ways I would never know.
Probably for the best.
I’d learned that sometimes ignorance could be bliss.
The image of my father had been forever altered by the truth.
Not wasting another second, I flung open the door and rushed toward the car. Grayson’s gaze locked on to me immediately, his head tilting slightly. “Anyone inside we need to worry about?”
I shook my head as I opened the back seat door, eager to get out of here. “Rusty left. I don’t know where he is. Probably at the shop.”
“Let’s go. I don’t want to be here if he comes back,” Brock said, still frowning at me. His gaze was too intense, and I felt him studying me as he and Grayson climbed back into the car.
Neither of them spoke right away, but as soon as I slammed the door shut, Brock shifted the SUV into drive and pulled back onto the path. The tires kicked up snow as we wound through the dense trees, bumping over uneven ground. The farther we got from the cabin, the more I realized just how deep in the woods Rusty had taken me. The path was barely visible, the snow-draped trees pressing in on either side, thick and unyielding. I hadn’t noticed last night. I’d been too damn exhausted, too numb, but now? It made my stomach twist. If Rusty had wanted to keep me hidden, he could have.
Kreed wouldn’t have found me. No one would have, and yet, here I was, willingly walking right back into the Ravens’ lair.
I turned my head to stare out the window, my throat thick. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe I should’ve stayed in that cabin, gone off-grid until I turned eighteen, but the thought of being alone, of hiding, made my chest squeeze with panic. And Brock… My cousin was safe. He always had been.
When we finally reached the massive iron gates leading to Taylor’s mansion, I rubbed the heel of my hand over my heart. The estate loomed ahead, glistening under the late February sun, with its Greek and Roman influences, sitting on more land than any normal person would know what to do with. It wasn’t my home, but it was familiar, and that was enough.
Brock pulled into the driveway, killing the engine before twisting in his seat to look at me. His aqua eyes gave nothing away, but the flicker in his jaw betrayed him, a sure sign he was holding something back. “My parents are out of the country for the next few months,” he said, nodding toward the house. “You won’t have to worry about them showing up unexpectedly.”
His parents’ absence was nothing new. Brock spent most of his life alone, being raised by a nanny or the staff. My aunt and uncle weren’t bad people; they just weren’t hands-on and were very focused on their careers. I had so many memories of coming here when we were younger, popping in when Uncle Sutton and Aunt Char were back in town. They’d always brought me little trinkets from wherever they’d been overseas.
I tried to give Brock a smile of gratitude, but it fell short. “Thanks. Seriously. I mean it. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
