Page 104 of Tell Me Why
The floor shifts under my feet. It’s not true. Christian would have told me, right?
My feet move on autopilot, and I abruptly turn on my heel and head straight to the back of the coffee shop, where there’s a small library filled with old books. The small room is empty as I rush up to the bookcase, my hands shaking, and knock forcefully three times.
There’s a speakeasy nestled behind the bookcase, which was established over a hundred years ago by the men who founded Shadow and Ash. The door is designed to look aged, weathered, and blend in seamlessly with the bookcase.
Two books are pulled back, creating a small hole.
“In shadows, we trust…” a disembodied voice says, trailing off, prompting me to finish the passphrase. It’s Ian, one of my brother’s most trusted guys.
“In silence, we rule,” I push out.
“Holy shit, Eve!”
The door swings inward, and I push inside. “Where’s Markus?”
“Downstairs,” Ian answers.
“Thanks,” I say over my shoulder, already halfway down the stairs.
When this place was built generations ago, the lower floors were cut straight into the sedimentary rock that forms the cliffs in Malibu. The bottom of the stairs opens up into a lounge with plush couches and upholstered armchairs that are drenched in natural light thanks to the crazy floor-to-ceiling windows that are level with the water, making you feel like you’re on a ship.
When I was a kid, I hated those windows. During storms, huge, violent waves would slam against the glass, and theboomwould echo through the whole building. I was always afraid one of those waves would eventually shatter the glass and suck us all out to sea.
To calm me down, my brother built me a boat out of cardboard and packing tape and convinced me it would save us from drowning if the ocean ever decided to come crashing in…
But that was a lie, too.
I scan the lounge now, but it’s empty. It’s too early in the day. But by two in the afternoon, this place will be crawling with Shadow and Ash members, sprawled across these couches like they own the place.
My gaze shifts to the glossy black staircase that curves up to the mezzanine, where the conference area overlooks everything. If Markus is here, that’s where he’ll be—probably plotting my brother’s rescue as we speak.
Crossing the lounge, my footsteps echo in the quiet space, and I head up the stairs. The weathered treads creak under my weight, announcing my arrival. It’s impossible to sneak up on anyone here.
When I reach the top, everyone is sitting around the large table, looking in my direction, their conversation dying mid-sentence. I pause, searching for Markus in the dozen faces that are staring back at me.
Markus pushes back from the table and rises, crossing the distance between us with long strides—that same hurried stride he’s had since we were kids racing into the ocean. His green eyes sweep over me critically, his brow furrowed with that protective brotherly look.
“Are you hurt?” He grabs my shoulders, scanning for any visible damage. “What happened? Did you escape?”
I can see the worry and relief etched on his face. Markus is Sin’s best friend, and he’s always been like a brother to me—teaching me how to throw a punch that would send Sin to his knees. And when Mom died, he was there—a shoulder to cry on.
And having him here now, standing in front of me, familiar and protective, makes the tears well up. Lifting my chin, I try to blink them back, but it’s too late. He’s already seen them, and he pulls me into a tight hug.
“Don’t worry.” He pulls back, reading my thoughts. “We’re getting him back.”
Clenching my jaw, I nod. “There’s something you should know—Cash is there, at Rush House.”
“What’s that cunt doing there?”
If I go into the details, Markus will go ballistic, so I keep it as vague as possible. “The Sacred Sons had an issue, and they paid Cash to deal with it.”
Markus’s eyes narrow suspiciously, already picking up on my omission. “Whatissue?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I say, brushing off the question. “The point is—the job is done, but they might keep him on to deal with Sin.”
“Fuck.” Markus tilts his head back and forces a breath out. “If Cash is there, then shit just got a thousand times more complicated.”
My sentiments exactly. But an idea is forming…
