She’d find out sooner rather than later. Sure, he could tell her now, let her down gently, but he didn’t want to give her anything. His mission was to make her as miserable as possible.
“You now live in Axel’s home,” she said, rubbing her hands across her thighs.
“It’s my home,” Draven said, staring out of the window.
“But I thought that was Axel’s dad’s place.” She pointed behind her.
“It was. It’s not anymore.”
“Where do you live?” she asked, turning to Axel.
“I live there. I just don’t own it.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“I don’t exactly mourn the place, Harper. It’s just a building and bricks. It has no real value.”
She sighed and sat back. “I remember when it was easier to talk to you guys.”
“You mean before you ran away and left us without a backward glance? Into the arms of the enemy just to get away from us?” Draven asked.
“Why won’t you listen to me? It wasn’t like that. I don’t know why you won’t listen to me. I don’t even know your enemy. I worked for Alan, no one else.”
“Let me guess, you’re going to blame Alan for everything?” Axel asked.
Silence met his question. Of course she’d blame Alan. His father had told him that she would. He rubbed at his temple.
“Wow, he really did think ahead, didn’t he?” She folded her arms, and he saw her rub at the corner of her eye, clearly wiping away a tear.
“It’s wrong to talk ill of the dead.”
“You killed your own father. How could you have any respect for a man you killed?”
“Simple, I did what I had to do. I imagine he’s happy that he nurtured such a cold-blooded killer. I won’t let anyone take my place.”
“Not even Axel?”
“Hey, don’t even think of getting me in this place.” Axel held his hands up. “I want no part in your two’s squabble.”
“So you’re happy being his slave? Second best.”
Draven chuckled.
“First of all, I’m no one’s slave. I’m not second best. I work with Draven. We’re a fucking team.”
“And where do Buck and Jett fit? I haven’t seen them around the house or even heard about them. No one talks about them. Have you passed them off? Kicked them out? Were they not as good as you?”
Draven shook his head at the anger he saw in Axel’s eyes, anger which was directed at Harper. She didn’t have a single fucking clue. It was sad but not unexpected.
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.”
Axel stared out the window.
Even now, it still grieved him to have lost their friends. This was not what they envisaged when they planned to become leaders, to take over from their fathers. So much had changed.
For one, they were still in the trade of human flesh, trafficking. Men and women passed through their hands as if they were nothing more than cattle.
Draven had learned not to think about it, to ignore it. Life was a lot easier if he ignored what he did. There was no room in this life for weakness. Men and women died, and that was a fact of life.
Staring out the window, he saw the cemetery coming into view. He rarely came here. He didn’t know about Axel.
For him, it was too much.
When it came to Buck and Jett, he’d failed them. As far as he was concerned, he’d been too obsessed with Harper, and because of that, his best friends ended up dead, and the surviving one had scars.
“Who trashed my locker?” Harper asked, looking over at them.
Axel smirked. “That finally bugging you?”
Ten years ago, someone had trashed Harper’s locker with vile words written across it. He, Axel, Buck, and Jett had discovered the identity of the person who had done it. They were going to let Harper deal with it when she was ready, not long after the initiation. Harper had left before they got a chance to tell her.
Draven snorted. “You were going to find the answer to that if you stayed. You don’t get to know.” The girl who trashed Harper’s locker had been the cheerleader screwing Ben, the guy who thought he could touch Harper’s ass.
The car came to a stop, and Harper looked past him, her hand going to his thigh as she lifted up a little in her seat.
“Why are we at a cemetery?”
“Don’t worry, princess. We’re not going to make you dig your own grave,” Axel said.
“I don’t like this.”
“I never at any point told you that you’d like what you’re about to see.” Draven climbed out of the car and waited for her. He held his hand out like he’d done many times before. Harper hesitated. She stared at his hand as if it was infected.
Maybe in a way, it was.
People died at his hands. He was probably haunted by the ghosts of all the people he killed.