“He needs to get over it.”
“We can’t all be heartless assholes like you. Sorry you’ve never been in love and don’t know how it feels.” His words pause me.
Like Rowen, King follows his footsteps and walks out of our penthouse, leaving me with the guilt I try to keep buried.
three
KING
Three monthsof radio silence from the unknown fucker, and now all of a sudden, he’s back. I’m assuming this “unknown fucker” is amale.
Since the day we received the first text a few months ago, we’ve spent countless hours trying to trace the person on the other end of the phone, hoping to get any information possible to help us find out who’s responsible; unfortunately, every attempt we’ve made has been unsuccessful. The number doesn’t trace back to anyone. It’s frustrating as fuck, considering we pay our tech and security team more than enough to figure this shit out.
When we received the most recent text yesterday, Eli called Travis to trace the number, and as expected, it was another dead end.
No matter how much our tech and security team digs, nothing’s ever found. Every attempt for months comes up short. Whoever this fucker is, he’s damn good at covering himself.
He’s so good that not even Travis, the best hacker we have, can trace the number and nail it to a specific location. According to him, it’s an untraceable burner phone.
I’m in the middle of a workout at the cabin when my phone chimes. I instantly shelve my weights, frantic to read what this motherfucker has to say.
I’ve been waiting for this.
I know who’s texting before I even look at my phone, considering no one else texts me anymore.
Since we realized how easy it is to hack phones and even send false texts, we’ve all decided to stick to calling so we can hear each other’s voices and know our conversations are legit. We’ve been taking every possible precaution. I had suggested we all get new phones and numbers, but Rowen had a feeling that we’d be hearing from the faceless fuck again and said we shouldn’t.
Snatching my phone from the floor where it’s sitting beside my water bottle, I grab my towel and wipe away my sweat.
I stare at my phone, my jaw clenched as I read the words.
Unknown:Ding dong, you have a delivery.
I stare, confused by the words, but I’m not confused for long because with my next breath, I hear it—the doorbell. I angrily throw my towel to the floor with a huff, jogging my way up the stairs and toward the front door.
Our cabin is secluded, and no oneshouldknow where the fuck it’s located. We sure as fuck don’t have deliveries out here. Mail gets delivered to Eli at our office in the city.
Only those in our inner circle know where our cabin is.
Once upstairs, I grab my gun and carefully make my way to the door, gun loaded and ready to be used if needed. With a quick breath, I pull open the front door, scowling at what I find on the other side.
Rowen looks up at me with an expression that matches mine. He stands, holding an unmarked manila envelope in his hands.
“I just got a fucking text,” I explain, lowering my gun.
“I just got here. I saw this at the door but didn’t see anyone around.” He brushes past me, rushing into the house with the envelope in his hands. I follow behind him, eager to find out what the fuck is inside the envelope.
“What did your text say?” he asks, setting the envelope on the kitchen counter and pulling his phone from his pocket. This is his first time in the cabin since we lost Tate. He’s refused to step foot on this property until today.
Setting my gun on the counter, I toss him my phone, allowing him to read the text. “What are you doing here, Ro?” I ask.
“To talk, but that can wait. Let’s open this up.”
“Fine. I’ll call Eli, and then we’ll open it,” I say, reaching for my phone.
“No, fuck that. Let’s open it right now. I’m not waiting for Eli, and I will no longer bow down like a bitch to him. I’m done doing whatever he wants, jumping every time he says to jump, and trusting him blindly. Look at what happened last time we trusted his word.” He shakes his head. “We’re supposed to be equals, but we’re anything but.” A smirk tugs at my lips at his words. I’m glad my brother is just as done with being a bitch boy as I am.
Things are about to change, and Eli can either accept it or fuck off. “Glad to hear you say that, brother. Let’s open this shit.” I grin, slapping him on the back. Rubbing my hands together, I reach for the folder and look it over carefully. There’s no address, meaning it didn’t arrive via the postal service. It was hand delivered, which is worse, because that proves this unknown fucker knows our location.