Page 11 of Cannon
“He says that one was for Elliot, you asshat.” I smirk, my lips twisted into a satisfied grin. I glance up at my brother with a grin. “Good job, Cannon.”
“Fuck. My arm’s a mess,” Bridger hisses in pain as he shifts, trying to get a better look at the damage. His arm is all torn up from his skid across the driveway.
Kingston shrugs and in a mocking tone asks, “What? Did it suck to have someone knock you down when you were only doing what you were told to do? Poor baby. Get off your sorry ass and get into the goddamn SUV.”
Joel and Stuart end up in one vehicle with Kingston on his own, while Cannon and I take Bridger and Alec in the other. I have no doubt Kingston and his forceful attitude can handle those two bumbling idiots all by himself.
These two, though. What a pain in the ass. I’m glad Cannon is riding shotgun, even if we’ve got to listen to Bridger snivel in the back like the whiny bitch he is. I’m just waiting for Alec to start in again.
And after a while, he does, once he realizes we aren’t headed to an all-night diner or anywhere remotely fun. Remote, yes. Fun,hellno.“Wait, where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” I glance at Cannon and nod.Good call, brother.Excellent idea.
“What was in the bag you put in the back?” He glances over his shoulder, eyeballing it.
“Oh. You mean my magic bag of hell.” I smirk. “Not another word until we get there. You hear me?”
And to my surprise, it remains dead silent in the back of the SUV as we traverse the winding track of gravel up to the dilapidated old house where we held the second game. I’m betting they’ve figured out where we’re going and have guessed they’re in deep shit.
I snicker. “Back to the scene of the crime, assholes. Have fun with your slumber party in the haunted house.”
FIVE
ELLIOT
I chew absentmindedlyon my lower lip, frowning as I stare out into the dark. Earlier, I’d heard a commotion in the front yard, so I’d carefully tiptoed over to the window and pulled up the blackout shade a few inches so I could peek at the scene below. And holy shit, was I ever glad I did. It appeared that the juniors plus Bridger were waiting around for something, and then like a forceful tidal wave, Kingston, Archer, and Cannon marched down the steps toward them. Kingston and Bridger exchanged words, then Bridger looked over toward the SUVs, andboom.Cannon knocked into Bridger so hard he went flying, landing in the middle of the driveway on his right arm. I hadn’t heard anything, but damn, it’d looked painful, and I’d even cringed at first, feeling bad for him. But then it hit me when he pointed up at my room. That was Cannon’s form of payback for Bridger’s actions the night of the first game. It had to be. It’d be way too much of a coincidence to be anything else. I don’t know what the hell to do with the idea that Cannon came to my defense, because I’m still trying to figure out how to act around these guys after my discovery.
Now, I’m certain Kingston filled Archer and Cannon in on Bridger shoving me and the notes. What the hell went down just prior to the scene I witnessed outside? And what on earth is happening now? Theyleft.
It’s so crazy that they’d be going anywhere at this hour, which makes me question things even more. How can the brothers who obviously came to my defense tonight also be responsible for what happened to Will?Ugh.Unless I’m being crazy and reading into the whole episode on the driveway. What if I’m seeing something that’s simply not there?
Fuck. You’re seeing it because you want it to be there. You don’t want to think that these three guys, who were in the process of stealing your goddamn heart, could be cold bastards with knowledge of where Will is.
Sometimes, I really piss myself off.
It’s been nearly thirty minutes since they left, and I’m assuming they won’t be back anytime soon. This is the perfect time for me to grab the phone out of Kingston’s room… and maybe snoop around Archer’s and Cannon’s as well. Because if I found the phone in one room, who knows what I could find in the other two. Maybe nothing. But it’s worth a shot because the need for revenge is still weighing heavily on my mind. To play their game, I need to stay a step ahead. I need to know what they know… and before they realize I know it.
With that thought, I pull on a pair of leggings, and slip quietly from my room. I take a deep breath just outside the door, stopping to listen. It’s easily half past ten now… from what I witnessed earlier, it should only be Zeke, Dane, and Taggart who are home with me. I wet my lips, moving directly across the hall. I’ve been dying to snoop around even if I doubt I will manage to access Archer’s computer. I’m certain it’s password protected… but you never know. The few times he allowed me to come into his room, he distracted me before I could look too hard at his precious computer equipment. Now’s my chance.
I cross the hall and easily gain entry. These guys have zero reason to lock each other out. It’s only me who’s truly at risk. With that thought, I shut the door behind me and lean against it, looking around in the dark. I don’t see why I shouldn’t turn on the light, so I do. Dragging in a deep breath, my gaze wanders over the room, which has a rather ominous feel, as the walls are painted in a deep gray, dark like night. It suits Archer, really. And for the guy who told me he has trouble sleeping, it’s probably for the best that his surroundings aren’t bright and cheerful. Otherwise, the room is a tiny bit messy—clothing thrown over the back of a plush chair near the window, a pile of books on the nightstand, his book bag on its side on the floor with the contents spilling out—with there being one exception to that rule. His desk, where he works at his computer, is immaculate… not a stray paper clip or scrap of paper to be seen anywhere.
I walk over to it, softly nudging the mouse with my fingertip, and it brings the computer to life… and directly to a password screen. I highly doubt his password is anything but a mixture of letters and numbers and symbols randomized to stop anyone from ever gaining access. He probably changes it every week like my high school computer teacher tried to get me to do. With a roll of my eyes, I fidget for a moment before finally deciding it’s completely useless to try to guess. He’s probably got something set up that would tell him if someone made any attempt to break in.
So, instead, I back away, letting my eyes roam over the rest of the room. I head to his bookshelf near the bed, the one I’d glanced at when I was in here with him before. I pull one book after another off the shelves, flipping through them before putting them back. He either enjoys the classics or wants people to think he does. My eyes shift to the haphazardly stacked pile of sci-fi books on the table next to the bed. If I’m not mistaken, it’s more likely that these are his true preference. There are pieces of paper sticking out the tops and sides of each one, kinda like he’s reading more than one at a time and has marked his place in each. Does he get bored that easily? Somehow that doesn’t seem quite like him to me.
Most people can’t handle reading one book to completion… but Archer? I bet he reads multiple books concurrently. Against my better judgment, I smile before returning the books to their original skewed stack.
Not wanting to waste time, I leave Archer’s room and head for Cannon’s next door.
To be fair, I don’t know what I’m looking for here either. I stop for a moment to survey his space. Unlike Archer’s room, with his obvious love for computers and books, Cannon’s space is practically spartan. If it doesn’t need to be here, it’s simply not. All our rooms have the same basic layout, but Cannon’s is decorated in a soft blue-gray color. Against the far wall, are a weight bench and treadmill, which I find hilarious because it’s not as if he doesn’t have access to as much equipment as he wants, especially as a kinesiology major. He probably has a 24-7 pass to Kingston University’s spectacular gym facilities.
Without anything of real interest out in the open to check out, I settle for a quick perusal of drawers, under the bed, and in the closet. But there’s nothing, not even photos of family or books or anything at all that would tell me something about Cannon that I don’t already know. Exercise is king in his world and a healthy diet is a close second, not that I’d see evidence of that in his room. Except—
My brain clicks back in time, remembering the first day of classes when I overheard Kingston asking Cannon about some sort of medication. Nibbling on my lip, my eyes dart to his bathroom door. Normally, I would never violate someone’s privacy like this, but all bets are off now that they’re keeping shit from me. Their potential involvement in Will’s disappearance means I’m prepared to do all sorts of things I wouldn’t normally do. I suck in a breath and cross the room to the immaculate bathroom.
I’ve been in here to clean, and only once so far—that had been the day I’d gotten upset by looking around Will’s old room—now Taggart’s room—and Cannon had found me in quite a state. My face heats remembering the way he’d laid me on his bed and gone down on me. And then Archer had walked in. And Kingston.
I pause, letting the memories of that day sink in. It wasn’t even a week ago, but it feels like an eternity. A rush of tingles shoots south to my core, and my thighs involuntarily clench together in response. I press the heel of my hand to my forehead, grimacing.
