Dynasty (Boys of Winter 1)

Carver looks back at me, and I see anger pulsing beneath the surface, and while he and I both know that I had no other choice, he’s more than pissed that I slipped out in the middle of the night without saying a damn word. Though that anger can’t mask the fact that he’s been looking at me with nothing but concern since I walked through the door, showing just like King and Cruz, that maybe there’s something more. “No,” he says after a tension-filled beat, stealing his intense gaze away from me. “This will only take a second.”

Cruz nods, and without a word, our small group walks through the massive house, following Carver’s lead. We walk into the living room that has quickly become one of my comforts in this place, and Carver silently indicates to the couch, suggesting that I should take a seat.

As I cut across the room and drop down onto the couch, the boys all fall around me, making me feel like a delinquent child in the principal’s office. “Here,” King says, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch and tossing it to Cruz who’s closest to me. He instantly drapes it over me, but with the chill so deep in my bones and my hair still soaking wet, the blanket doesn’t do much. I need to get in a shower and clean myself up properly.

Once the boys feel like they have me sorted out, all eyes fall to Carver. As he looks back at me, I swallow hard, knowing what he’s about to ask but not feeling as though I have what it takes to answer him properly.

“What happened, Winter?” he asks, his tone flat and void of all emotion.

My eyes begin to water but I hold back the tears, refusing to cry in front of these guys. “I did it,” I tell him. “When I got there, he was on the phone with Sam and was about to strike a new deal, and I just … I had a knife and I just … I can’t go back to living in that cold cell.”

I cut myself off, not able to actually tell him what I did. As the emotions overwhelm me, Cruz takes my hand in his big ones and holds it tight. “You’re going to be okay, Winter,” he promises me. “We’re not going to let you go back there. Sam will never get his hands on you again.”

I glance away, knowing that he means every single word that comes out of his mouth, but I’m not sure if I can trust it. How can he promise me safety like that? For so long, all I’ve had is me. When I finally decide to trust someone, they always let me down, and this is too important, too big.

I slice my gaze back to Carver’s, letting him know that I’m ready for him to hit me with the next part of his interrogation.

“He’s definitely dead?” he asks, his eyes boring into mine, and despite how his questions make me flinch, he doesn’t hesitate, not afraid to do what needs to be done.

I nod. “Yeah,” I whisper. “At least, he has to be. What I did … no one could survive that.”

“You didn’t wait to see if he was actually dead?” Grayson asks, cutting in.

My gaze sweeps to his as panic starts to overwhelm me once again. “I … I … there was so much blood and I just … I don’t know, I panicked. He was choking on it and the blood was just … everywhere and I … I just ran.”

Grayson and Carver share a glance as King and Cruz keep their stares locked on me. “How much blood?” Carver finally questions, making my brows dip low in confusion as he and Grayson start to get agitated, their hands pumping into fists as they find it impossible to stand still.

“Why is that important?”

“Answer the question, Winter,” Carver prompts, pushing me on.

I think back to Kurt’s living room, remembering the blood splattered over the ceiling, across the walls, and pooled on the old, ratty carpets. Enough blood to soak through his clothes and the recliner. “It was a fucking bloodbath,” I finally tell him, giving it to him straight just like he’s always done for me. “I grabbed his chin and slit his throat with a blunt knife, and I was fucking brutal about it. So, while I didn’t hang around to watch his final breath, I can guarantee that he’s dead and that it’s a fucking mess in there.”

“Okay,” he finally says, nodding at Grayson who instantly falls in beside him. The two of them share a glance before Carver looks back at Cruz. “Get her cleaned up and in bed. She’ll feel better in the morning.”

Cruz nods as he squeezes my hand and just like that Grayson and Carver walk out of the room, leaving me sitting here in confusion. I look up at King, who watches me with a grim expression. “Where are they going?”