See No Evil: Brotherhood Trilogy, #1

1

NEVER LOOK BACK

CHRISTIANA

If you’ll follow me. Headmaster Williams leads us down the wide concrete path. He has a cheesy smile. Wide, square teeth framed by thin lips. His voice is high and posh, which suits his superior strut. He’s British and sounds like a BBC presenter. We’re particularly proud of what I’m about to show you. Eton Prep has a long legacy of great hockey players. The Eton Wolves are the current state champions. Do you play hockey, Chris?

All I can give him is a deadpan stare.

Rybeck slaps me on the shoulder and lets out a hearty laugh. You’ll have to excuse my son. He’s a little nervous about starting a new school mid-semester.

Ugh. I hate the way he’s talking, pretending to be my loving father when the truth is I only met him a few nights ago. He looks nothing like my dad, but I guess I look nothing like me either, so it’s easy enough to buy into this farce.

Headmaster Williams smiles at me. Don’t you worry about that. Our boys are expected to show the utmost respect to everyone they meet. I’m sure it won’t take you long to find your place here at Eton.

Yeah, right.

Square peg in a round hole doesn’t even come close. I’m so far from fitting in it’s a joke.

A Florida beach babe in an uptight Wisconsin boarding school?

Gimme a break. This is the worst idea in the world.

I go to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and am reminded it’s no longer there. Agent McNeal (who I’m supposed to call Mom) gives me a sharp look behind Headmaster Williams’ back. I stop fingering the short strands at the nape of my neck and try to think like a guy. I’m tempted to scratch my balls but figure that won’t fly. Mother Dearest can be an uptight hard ass. It took me less than a day to figure out that both sarcasm and snark are thoroughly lost on her.

Maybe they should be lost on me too.

Shoving my hands into my jacket pockets, I hunch my shoulders and shuffle down the pathway after the trio. The weight of my choices is heavy. Now that I’m actually in it, heading down these rapids towards a fatal waterfall, I can’t help questioning myself yet again.

Everything I was.

Everything I’m being forced to become.

Did I make the right decision?

People say to follow your heart, but what if your head actually knows better?

And how do you differentiate?

Three nights ago, was it my head or my heart that had me climbing out my bedroom window and running for the police station?

I shiver against the cool wind, grateful when Rybeck ushers me out of the Icelandic breeze. Give me Miami heat any day. Stepping off the plane into Wisconsin’s late October wind was like stepping into one of those big chiller freezers they have in restaurants.

Stamping my feet, I hunch my shoulders and look down the ramp at the hockey rink.

Great, ice! Just what I need.

The first thing that hits me is the smell—dank and wet. Then I pick up on the noises—blades cutting through ice, a swish, a slap, a grunt, a thump.

My nose wrinkles as I follow the proud headmaster down the concrete ramp to stand against the thick Plexiglass. Players are flying over the ice, crashing into each other, scuffling over a tiny, black puck that I can barely keep up with. A whistle blows and the coach yells something.

I can’t take it all in.

Headmaster Williams is talking again, trying to sell the school to my parents even though I’m already enrolled. In a few short minutes I’ll be walking back to the dorm room assigned to me. I’ll hug them goodbye, pretending like I love them, and then they’ll leave me alone…with all these boys.

Headmaster Williams leads us up the stands so we can look down on the practice, but I stay where I am for a moment, unable to take my eyes off the players. Two of them speed towards me, chasing the slippery little puck. One guy catches it with his long stick, tapping back and forth, controlling its path until he’s slammed by another guy. I flinch and step back from the glass as his helmet smacks into it. He’s still wrestling for the puck, fighting his opponent until he loses the battle. Smacking his gloved fist into the glass, he glances up and his eyes connect with mine.

For a second I can’t look away. I’m mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze, the blue-green shade of his eyes and the way they quickly study me. He has a strong face—Roman nose, chiseled chin, slightly olive skin. His dark eyebrows ripple as if he’s trying to work me out…as if he can see through my lame disguise.

I step away, bumping into Rybeck’s arm. He pats my back, acting like the loving father, playing it with such finesse and charm.

How does he do it?

Headmaster Williams smiles at me, and all I can see are his Chiclet teeth. Even if you’re not a player, I’m sure you’ll become a Wolves fan by the time you graduate.

His laugh is plastic and grating. I can barely form a smile.

McNeal runs her arm across my shoulders, squeezing me against her. Her fingers are strong, digging into my skin, reminding me to stop acting like such a moron. I have a role to play.

I clear my throat and bob my head.

Headmaster Williams lifts his arm and motions back the way we came. My legs are stiff as I walk out into the late afternoon sun. My heart starts pounding, beating inside my head as we walk through the immaculate grounds, past old brick buildings with a Harvard feel. I’ve never been to Harvard, but I’ve seen pictures of the orange brick buildings. I’ve read books, watched movies. I know what these places are like.

Strict, cold, meticulous…like an old English boarding school with ties and jackets, routines and regulations. No more bikinis and playing hooky for me. I’m stuck here in this isolated hellhole with no escape.

I jerk to a stop, my legs unwilling to take another step.

I’ve made a mistake. This is the wrong choice.

Mother Dearest looks back and gives me a sharp frown. I shy away from it, glancing over my shoulder, tempted to run…but where? Across those fields in the distance? Into the woods bordering the school?

Think about Robbie, Rybeck whispers in my ear. You’re doing this for him.

My eyes burn as I look up at my towering father and fight the rush of tears.

Boys don’t cry.

I sniff and pull my shoulders back, then keep walking.

Robbie’s sweet smile floats through my brain, both a comfort and a torment. His soft fingers tracing my cheekbone, his awe-struck smile as I giggled and pressed my lips to his.

It kills me to know I’ll never see his face again. No one will.

Slamming my teeth together, I fight the panic and rage warring within me. I can’t believe I’m in this situation. I can’t believe how much my life has transformed in such a short space of time.

It’ll never be the same.

If only I’d kept walking instead of running back to give Robbie that kiss.

Would he still be alive? Would I still be safely in Miami, pretending that my family was perfect?

I should never have agreed to go out with him.

But I did…and now I have to stay this course and keep pushing forward.

Because Robbie, the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, deserves justice.

2

NEW TARGET

TREY

Sweat is pouring off me by the end of practice. It feels good.

I wipe the drips off my forehead and skate off the ice, thumping into Kade with a grin.

Nice apple on that last play, man.

Riley scoffs beside me, shaking his head and glaring at both of us when we laugh at him. He’s the shortest of the three of us, and the most serious too. His hair is sandy blond and swoops over his forehead. He swipes it out of his eyes, which are usually blue, but they drift to gray when he’s pissed.

I flick the disgruntled goalie with my glove. At least in the real games we’re on the same side, right?

Kade chortles and we pound fists. Since he arrived sophomore year, the two of us have been a danger on the ice. Opposing teams hate us, and any goalie facing off with us has a right to worry. Riley’s fearless in the goal, hardly lets a thing past him. But we got him in practice today and it was sweet.

Thumping into the locker room, I plunk onto the bench and start unlacing my skates, grinning at the banter going on around me.

When I first arrived at Eton Prep, I did everything in my power to get kicked out of this place. An all-boys boarding school? It was like a nightmare come true. But I found my way eventually.

Fate worked its magic to get me rooming with Riley. I didn’t know it at the time but I was meant to be the guy’s best friend. He was being bullied by Ivan the Asshole and I went in to fight for him, taught him how to swing a punch or two. It made us close. And then Kade Kingsley came along, the towering guy the girls like to swoon over. Now his eyes are blue, like clear skies on a summer’s day blue, and he has this fine brown hair that he’s constantly rearranging. When he first walked into our room, I immediately thought, douche bucket, but he won me over pretty quick. He’s got a great sense of humor, and it takes the edge off Riley’s serious intellect.

Between the two of them, they’ve made me believe in family again… so I call them my brothers.

Initially all I wanted to do was fight, get kicked out of Eton and be free of the place. Being able to pound the guys bullying Riley was a good release. Headmaster Williams made me stay in spite of the brawling, gave me one last chance not to screw up, reminding me that if I wasn’t here then I’d be back home with my distant father and highly irritating stepmother.

Eton it was.

He also made me join the hockey team so I could take out my aggression on the ice. I’ll never admit it to his face, but it helped…big time.

Coach Baxter strolls in, yelling at us to shower up and get back to the dorms in time for dinner.

Good practice today, men. Keep that energy up and we’ll have a sure win this weekend.

A few cheers go up behind me. I make eye contact with the Canadian coach and nod my head. He nods back and walks to his office.

With a sniff, I kick off my skates, catching a conversation to my right.

Did you see that kid checking out practice today? Ivan snickers.

My skin ripples, the muscles in my shoulders bunching tight. I’m not usually a hater. I get angry, sure, but it takes a lot for me to permanently dislike someone. But Ivan? I make an exception for that asshole. The guy’s a sadist and seems to get off preying on the weak.

Until I taught Riley how to kick ass, he was getting daily beatings from the idiot thug. Riley was too stoic to go to the dean, and Ivan was too slippery to ever get caught.

He looked like he was ready to piss his pants. It’ll be easy pickings this time around, boys.

His stupid buddies snigger while I grip the bench.

Memories of what Riley went through eat at me. They’re still crystal clear, and I feel bad that Ivan and his asshole friends are zeroing in on a new target. But I’m not getting involved.

I won’t get kicked out over some kid I don’t even know. Riley was different. He was my roommate.

The new boy who stared at me through the glass this afternoon is not my problem.

I rub my chest, still confused by why we stared at each other. There was just something about his face that drew me in. Which is really freaking weird, because he’s…a guy!

But…I don’t know. He was…pretty. That’s the only word I can come up with to describe him.

What the hell is wrong with me!

Pretty. I think the new guy’s pretty. That’s seriously messed up.

I head to the showers and scrub my face. I wish I could scrub the new kid from my mind, but I can’t. He was touring the school with Headmaster Williams, which means he’ll be coming here.

He looked young and skinny. He’s probably a freshman, which means I don’t have to interact with him. Seniors rarely have classes with freshmen, and it’s not like he’s gonna be playing hockey, not with that wimpy-looking body.

Turning off the shower, I dry myself and throw my towel in the basket, changing into a pair of sweats and my favorite hoodie. After dinner it’s compulsory study hall for grades nine and ten, which means the teachers will be busy monitoring that and the seniors can relax a little. We’re old enough to monitor our own study habits.

And I’m trying. I swear.

Grabbing my bag, I wait for Ry and Kade to finish before skipping out. I want to dump my stuff and grab a little contraband before Monday night’s meal. Mashed potatoes, sliced turkey and seasonal vegetables is hardly something to get excited about. Yeah, yeah, it’s healthy and nutritious, just what teenage boys need, blah, blah, blah. And I will eat it. After such an intense practice, I’m starving. But there’s nothing wrong with a potato chip and candy bar starter.

I feel sorry for that new kid already, Riley mumbles as we shuffle down the path.

It’s already cold for late October. I don’t mind it so much, but the school’s a drafty place. Mid-winter is gonna be frickin’ freezing at this rate. I would ask Dad to send me an extra blanket and jacket, but we haven’t spoken since our last fight.

I hunch my shoulders.

I don’t care. I can look after myself.

I’m not sure I can say the same thing about the skinny new guy though.

At least he won’t be in our dorm or anything, I mutter. Ivan can only touch him during school time.

How do you know he won’t be in our dorm? Riley asks.

My eyebrows rise. Because he looks like he’s twelve. The guy has to be a freshman, which means he’ll be in the north dorm.

No way, man. Kade shakes his head. Definitely a junior.

I roll my eyes. "Either way, he won’t be in the south dorm. That’s seniors only territory this year. Ivan will have to track him down."

And we all know he will. Kade musses his hair, then smoothes it back into place. It’ll be long enough to tuck behind his ears soon.

I hate that guy, Riley mutters.

We all do. I give him a warning look. Don’t get involved, Ry. New kid has to fend for himself.

With that wimpy look on his face? He’s gonna be beat down before the end of his first day.

Kade grins. You survived.

Riley’s pale brows dip into a sharp V. Don’t be a smug prick. The only reason he didn’t touch you was because he knew Trey and I would beat his ass.

That’s horse shit! Kade scoffs. He knew better than to mess with me. I’d deck him with a single punch.

Whatever, floppy fist. Your punches are like getting hit with a cotton ball.

Kade jumps behind my back and grabs Riley around the neck, then scrubs his knuckles over Riley’s scalp. They laugh and tussle while I stand there grinning at them. As soon as they hit the ground, they pull apart, jostling and slapping each other with foul-mouthed insults they don’t really mean.

Kade hauls Riley back to his feet and we keep walking to our room.

As we round the corner, I spot Ivan’s new target. He’s standing next to his parents, listening to the headmaster and Dean Hancock. Headmaster Williams has his happy face on today. His ginger head bobs as he smiles and shakes hands with the father. They must be loaded. Headmaster Williams only smiles that big for families willing to donate extra money to the school.

Like Eton Prep needs it.

I glance at the pretentious buildings to my right and across the manicured lawns. I didn’t grow up with opulence. Less than a year after my mother died, Dad re-married. Step Monster’s got big boobs, a slender waist and enough money to send me to an exclusive boarding school in the middle of nowhere.

I don’t care. I’d rather be here with my non-related brothers than the family that doesn’t want me.

New kid’s father pats his skinny shoulders and whispers something in his ear.

He glances up, looking miserable…and also a little determined.

I don’t know what the pep talk is about, but it’s made his jaw clench and nostrils flare. Blinking rapidly, he pulls his shoulders back and lifts his chin as Dean Hancock and Headmaster Williams flank him.

Spinning for the main entrance, the trio walks right past us. I search the new kid’s face again. I don’t know what the hell I’m searching for…and I don’t know why the hell I can’t stop staring at him.

There’s just something so pitiful about him with his skinny face and jet-black hair, cut short and combed to the side.

I force myself to turn away and follow my brothers to the side door of our dorm, but not before spotting the sheer look of dread cresting over the guy’s face. The building loomed large before him and he looked like he was entering a death chamber.

Poor guy doesn’t even know about Ivan yet.

3

UNTIL THAT DAY

CHRISTIANA

Dean Hancock talks too much.

He’s got one of those fast, clipped, no-nonsense kind of voices. If I stopped walking right now, he probably wouldn’t even notice. He’d just keep marching down the corridor telling me how Eton is the best school in the world with top athletes and Harvard-bound brainiacs.

That’s why we’re so strict. I know it may seem unfair to have no access to technology or cell phones in your rooms, but we believe strongly that too much screen time is bad for the brain. We expect top marks from all our students, so we help them by providing the perfect environment for them to learn. Old-fashioned values are the backbone of this school.

I roll my eyes, resisting the urge to scream and run away.

It may seem isolating at times but that’s why we room the students together. It helps to build relationships and create strong bonds. Lifelong friendships are constantly formed at this school. The dean glances over his shoulder, eyeing me with disapproving scrutiny. The fact your parents have insisted you have a single room is to your disadvantage, in my opinion. You’ll have to make an extra effort to get to know the other boys on your floor. I often hear complaints about Eton being in the middle of nowhere. Well, the fact of the matter is, we practically are, which is why we must work together to create our own special world. We provide everything you need to be a successful, well-rounded adult.

Okay, he seriously needs to stop talking now.

We turn into a long, fluorescent-lit corridor lined with doors. It’s like an upper-class prison, each dorm room a cell, inmates leaning against doorframes and watching me pass. Judging me.