I start to panic, and I never panic.

“Willow’s middle name wasn’t Raven.” I shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have let him know he’s on to something. But part of me wants to hear what else he has to say.

“Isn’t it?” He lifts his brow tauntingly.

I want to punch him in the face. And I would, too, if I wasn’t so thrown off by what he said. And that’s where I make my mistake, because that slipup gives him enough time to bash his head against mine—hence the cut on my face.

As our skulls clank, we’re both knocked backward. The chair he’s on topples over, while I fall back onto the floor. And when the chair hits the cement floor, it breaks enough that he’s able to slip out of the ties around his wrists and legs.

I sit up as he gets to his feet, staggering a bit, probably because he has a concussion. I think I may have one, too.

He doesn’t come toward me, but I don’t expect him to—Porter isn’t brave without his gang of friends with him. Before he runs off, though, he does utter some ominous words that I don’t think about too much at the moment, but I do later.

“I’m going to retaliate,” he says, wiping the blood from his lips with the sleeve of his shirt. “And it’s going to be bloody and straight at your heart.” With that, he takes off.

And as I stand here, staring at the dead raven, I finally get what he meant. I get it straight to my heart. And not just mine, but Jax’s and Hunter’s, something they’re making pretty damn clear as I tell them what happened. Well, minus the Willow part. I haven’t figured that out yet, and I don’t know how to tell them. I definitely can’t tell them in front of Raven, because either she does know she’s Willow and is hiding it—if that’s the case, I can’t tip her off yet—or she’s completely clueless and I can’t just throw it all on her like this. Because telling her means telling her everything about the past—all the pain, torture, and betrayal. I can’t do that yet. Or ever.

“I can’t believe you did this,” Jax mumbles as he paces the living room. “Well, I can because you’re you, but I’m still pissed off!”

“Cleary,” I mumble, eliciting a glare from him.

I don’t react, because that’s what I do—bury my feelings to the point where I come off as cold and cruel. It’s how I have to be. If I wasn’t, my father, or someone else, would see that and use it to break me. I know this for a fact, because the last time I ever exposed any sort of emotion, they took it away from me.

Took her away from me.

Willow …

My gaze strays to Ravenlee, who’s sitting in the chair across from me and beside Hunter, chewing on her thumbnail. The glow of the fire in the fireplace gives me a good view of her, even with the darkness trying to take over the house. Her raven-colored hair is wavy and wild, and her big eyes are locked on the floor. I’ll admit, she’s fucking gorgeous. As pissed off as she made me the first time I saw her, I noticed that about her—how beautiful she is. Her eyes are my favorite part.