The Havoc We Wreak (The Four 3)

“Mammoths are extinct. How can they do that?”

“They merged its DNA with an elephant, or some shit.”

“Are you sure you aren’t thinking of Jurassic Park?”

We continued our random conversation all the way back to the house, and by the time I got back, my stomach hurt from laughing and I’d forgotten all about my worries surrounding my mother.

“Cade, give me a hand with these bags,” Cassius called from the back of the car, where he was unloading our shopping. My gaze followed his, to see Caiden standing in the doorway of the house in jeans and a thick hoodie.

“Better make it quick, then. I’m on my way out.”

“Where are you going?” I asked him as he came to stand beside the car. He leaned into me, pulling me towards him and trailing his nose up my neck.

“Out. I’ve got to go into the city. Will you be okay here?”

I stared at him, curious. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Why do you have to go into the city, though?”

He kissed my ear before murmuring, “I have my reasons. Nothing to worry about.”

“Alright. Be all mysterious,” I mumbled into his neck.

He pulled back and gave me a wicked grin. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”

“You’d better.”

SIX

Once Winter and Cassius had disappeared inside the house and I was in my R8, I pulled out my phone and shot a quick text to Zayde.

Me: You done?

Z: Yeah. You ready?

Me: Yeah.

Z: You sure about this?

Me: 100%

Z: Meet you there

Starting the engine, I pulled away from the house with a powerful roar, a smile spreading across my face as I felt the thrum of the engine responding to me. The rush that came every time I drove my car was better than any drug.

I put my foot down as I raced down the coastal road and onto the motorway that led to the city, the R8 effortlessly slicing through the traffic, leaving everyone else in my wake.

As I drove, I thought back over my earlier conversation with my brother. He’d been worrying about Christine, replaying the voice memos from Winter’s dad over and over, but there was a determination in him I’d never seen before. I knew if anyone could uncover more evidence, it would be him.

The buildings grew closer and closer together, tower blocks appearing on the horizon as I swung the car into the nondescript car park. I beeped the horn, once, and the graffitied metal garage door in front of me rolled slowly up, and I drove inside, parking next to Zayde’s bike. I hit the button to close the garage door behind me, and headed through the small door that led into the tattoo shop.

Zayde was already in there, talking with the tattoo artist as he inked the skin of a bored-looking guy with a shaved head and pierced brow.

“Alright.” I crossed over to join them.

“Rich boy.” The tattoo artist spoke without looking up at me, intent on his work.

“Mack,” I greeted him, admiring the design he was inking into the guy’s bicep—some kind of scorpion, venom dripping from its stinger. “Nice work.”

“Cheers. We’re almost done here. Help yourself to drinks.”