1. Novel

  2. Severed Heart (Ravenhood Legacy Book 2)

  3. Severed Heart: Chapter 14
Severed Heart (Ravenhood Legacy Book 2)

Severed Heart: Chapter 14

STALKING DOWN THE mostly vacant hall to meet Dom—who summoned me by text—I catch the heated whispers as they escalate, pinpointing exactly who’s exchanging them as I round the corner.
“Fucking snitch,” Sean spits venomously just before throwing his mid-evil right hook. In an instant, I’m at Dom’s side as Sean takes one of his own defensive linemen to the floor. Their beef having started in middle school over some stupid bullshit. This means that given any reason or chance Blake Spellman gives Sean to keep the feud going, Sean takes it.
Sean and Blake’s brawl starts to escalate, their sneakers squeaking loudly while their collective grunts intensify. The sound of their scuffle muting Mrs. Hill’s English lit lecture just outside her classroom door.
It’s when a few lingering students take notice and start to walk in our direction to watch the spectacle that Dom gives Sean the heads-up.
“Wrap it up, or the only balls you’ll be playing with Friday are your own,” Dom snarks, arms crossed, his menacing grin in place as we watch Sean dominate the fight, throwing punch after punch, already the victor.
“What’s this one about?” I ask, wincing at the shot Sean just took to his ribs, knowing it’s going to sting like a bitch later.
In lieu of an answer, Dom steps forward or rather stomps forward, his step subtle but purposeful as he slowly inches the rest of himself toward his idle boot. The sight of it has me perking as I gauge the satisfied look in Dom’s eyes.
Something’s up.
“You’re good, bro. I think he got the message,” Dom says, as I roll my eyes, knowing better, before pulling Sean off Blake. Spellman jumps from the ancient, overly polished white tile, glancing around to see who witnessed his ass whooping. Pride battered, Blake wipes his mouth, spitting venom at Sean through blood-laced teeth.
“The fuck, Roberts? The fuck are you talking about, snitch?”
“Rat me out to Coach again, I fucking dare you,” Sean barks in warning before Mrs. Hill’s door opens, and the small group of students that gathered to watch the fight start to scatter. A second later, she nails Dom with a ready glare.
“Do we have a problem here, Mr. King?” She shifts her focus to me. “Mr. Jennings? Mr. Roberts, do the three of you not have somewhere to be?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I state as Dom keeps planted firmly in place.
“Mr. Spellman,” she calls after Blake’s retreating back.
“Do we need to take this conversation elsewhere?
Blake waves his hand, not bothering to turn around. “All good.”
Mrs. Hill gives each of us a pointed look as she speaks. “I suggest you three get back to class before I find both a problem and a place for you all to be.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sean says, giving her a flirtatious grin and salute before righting his vintage Batman T-shirt. It’s when Dom nods in agreement instead of popping off that I know something is definitely up.
It’s confirmed a second later when Mrs. Hill snaps her door shut, and Dom drops, retrieving and carefully cupping the prize under his boot before disposing of it in Sean’s waiting hand. A hand he promptly closes into a tight fist as Dom barks his order. “Hit the shop and get it back to me before sixth period.”
“On it.” Sean shoots me a wink before sauntering off in the direction Spellman went, calling after Blake in taunt. “Come back, snitchy. Daddy needs a word.”
“The hell?” I ask as Dom strides off, a smug smile blooming on his face at my confusion when I fall in step next to him.
“Can you borrow your mom’s van tonight?” He asks.
“Probably, yeah.”
“Good. Pick us up at midnight.”
I pause my footing. “That’s past curfew.”
“Then get grounded,” he calls back to me, “it’ll be worth it.”
Sighing, I decide it’s better for now not to ask, especially since Dom’s in a theatrical mood. Not long after the clock strikes twelve, the three of us are creeping to the other side of town in Mom’s minivan. Cam’ron’s “Killa Cam” plays in the background before I cut it off and park where Dom instructs. When the three of us sit idle for a few long seconds, blocks away from an open-gated industrial complex that houses three buildings, I finally demand my explanation.
“Speak,” I state before Dom rips his gaze from one of the buildings and turns to me.
“We’re going shopping,” he states matter-of-factly.
“For?” I ask as Dom gets out, grabbing the packed duffle he brought. Sean and I follow suit, shivering at the change in temp, as Dom bends, unzipping the bag at our collective feet.
“Love to your mom and all,” Dom starts, pulling out three ski masks.
“So much love for Regina,” Sean interjects, palming his heart before sliding it down to cup his junk. I waste no time thumping his ear as hard as possible. His features pinch in pain before they disappear behind his ski mask when he pulls it down, cocking his head. “Was that absolutely necessary?”
“Yes,” I state, pulling my own mask on along with the gloves Dom supplies next.
“Your mom is lava fucking hot, bro,” Sean quips as he pulls on a glove, “deal with it. God knows I want to.”
“Like I was saying,” Dom snaps to shut Sean up, grabbing a few more masks and pairs of gloves from the open duffle before tossing it back into the van and closing the door. “Love to Mom for the loan, but I’m growing tired of the minivan.” He turns to Sean. “Got it?”
Sean produces a key from his jeans and hands it to Dom.
“That’s all I’m getting?” I ask as the three of us start to creep toward the complex, a shiver running up my spine. This fall has been unseasonably cold, with a few nights of early snowfall, some dropping below dead of winter temperatures. This proves to be an advantage for us—at least for tonight. The frigid cold no doubt responsible for the lack of life at the complex and surrounding neighborhood.
“So, this plan is sound?” I ask Dom, eyeing the extra masks and gloves in his hands.
“As it can be, though I enlisted help.”
As if aware of my question of who, a distant “ca-caw” sounds from blocks away, and Dom chuckles in response.
“Really fucking discreet,” I snap, knowing it could only be Russell. I’m proven right when, minutes later, he appears, dressed in black like the rest of us as instructed, and he’s not alone.
“The fuck is going on?” I ask, hackles rising as Russell sidles up to us with ease, with a guy who looks around our age, brown hair and eyes, average build, wearing a dopey smile.
“Tyler, this is Jeremy,” Russell introduces. “This is the recruit I’ve been telling you about, remember?”
“Probably not. Tyler’s been distracted playing with little plastic soldiers on school nights,” Dom supplies as I glare at the side of his head before scouring Jeremy.
“Sup, man,” Jeremy greets me, his tone tentative.
“Hey, man,” I say, feeling awkward as fuck about the impromptu meeting while becoming more ill at ease at the fact I’m clueless as to what’s going on.
“We can finish the meet and greet later.” Dom jumps in, sensing my apprehension. “Russell, Jeremy, you two head over first and try the lock,” Dom commands, as if he’s been doing this his whole life. Extending the masks and gloves to them, he then lifts the key for Russell. “We’ll watch your six.”
“Six?” Jeremy mimics in clear confusion as he pulls his mask down.
“It means to watch your back,” Russell supplies, taking the key after gloving up.
“Shit, sorry, dumbass,” Jeremy says through a self-deprecating chuckle. It’s clear he’s nervous, which makes me even more so. It’s my trust in Dom that curbs some of the edge I’m feeling.
Dom, Sean, and I stay back, scanning the complex and surrounding streets as I front them out while Jeremy and Russell creep toward one of the buildings.
“The fuck? You planned this without me?” I hiss.
“Not really,” Dom says, completely at ease. “Think of it more as an early Christmas present.”
“You know damn well I’m not the one to move on shit without knowing the plan.”
Dom palms my shoulder. “This is impromptu, brother. We didn’t know if we would be able to get the key.”
It strikes me then how we’re gaining access to the building and why. The key I now know belongs to Blake Spellman. The why is because he works for his dad, who provides car parts—many custom—for garages and shops in and out of Triple Falls.
“You had him start a fucking fight to pocket that key,” I surmise.
“If I had started it,” Dom spouts, “it wouldn’t be believable, and that key ring is now tucked safely back in Blake’s pocket thanks to some unexpected consoling from Ginger after school. Nothing heavy.”
Ginger is Dom’s on-again, off-again hookup and has been since middle school.
“Fight was happening anyway because he did rat me out to Coach,” Sean pipes as the door opens, and Russell and Jeremy wave us over.
“We lucked out he had the key on him,” Sean adds as the three of us sprint through the darkest part of the path to get to the door. My adrenaline spikes as Dom locks it, and the three of us begin to scout the office for security cameras, relieved when we come up empty.
“All clear,” Dom sounds out before opening the door, which leads to the larger part of the building. The space is the size of a small warehouse, which Russell and Jeremy are already scouring.
“This is the warehouse Spellman’s dad uses to keep the vintage parts he sells for mad money online. Merry fucking Christmas.” Dom grins, holding the door open for Sean, who slaps Dom’s chest in celebration as he passes.
“Fucking genius, bro.” Sean beams, stopping just past the door as I follow him. “And totally worth the loose molar,” he adds, eyes sparkling as he tightens his gloves with his fingers in anticipation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, boys, I’m going to collect my winnings before I go grab a good night kiss from Tyler’s mommy.”
Sean barely dodges my swing before jogging over to join Russell and Jeremy. I watch the three of them for a few seconds as Dom walks back into the office, gazing out the window to make sure we got in undetected.
“So, Jeremy?” I prompt as Dom thumbs through a few papers on a nearby desk.
“Transplant,” he says, “checked out of Raleigh a few months back.”
“Checked out?”
“Boys home,” Dom says, stalking over to join me at the door. “He’s no mechanic, but he’s really good with his hands.” He pitches his voice into the warehouse. “Isn’t that right, Jeremy?”
Jeremy nods, his mask already lifted to his forehead before he reaches into his jeans and lifts a wallet.
My fucking wallet.
“The fuck?” I say, palming my back pocket in shock as Jeremy saunters over, giving me a sheepish grin.
“Sorry, man”—he nods towards Dom—“his idea. It’s all still there.” He pats my shoulder. “Thanks for letting me in on this.”
Before I can tell him I had nothing to do with it, he runs back over to help Russell.
“Shit,” I whisper, utterly shocked at how he managed to pickpocket me. “I didn’t feel a thing. How the fuck did he even get close enough?”
“Talent,” Dom quips with a pleased grin before he lowers his voice, canting his head toward me. “He’s been surfing from dumpsters to sidewalks, sleeping in any hole he can climb into, and robbing only when he has to, to try and keep from getting picked up again. He’ll do anything to avoid being tossed back into the system. He came to the garage a month ago asking Russell if we needed help, but has no experience. Russell’s been talking to him since, and he’s been hanging around King’s for a few weeks now.”
Dom crosses his arms, leaning against the door before turning to me.
“I’ve checked him out, bro. I swear I vetted him thoroughly. He’s had it rough”—he stares back at Jeremy—“really fucking rough, but he’s willing to put in the time to learn to be a mechanic. I thought”—he shrugs—“if it works out, we could consider putting him on payroll. We need another full-timer anyway, and he can work every day. What do you think?”
I eye Jeremy. “Yeah, I mean, I want to talk to him first, feel him out myself, but yeah, I trust your judgment.”
“It’s time to build our nest, and what better way to induct him than have him incriminating himself with us?” Dom chuckles.
Sensing our conversation, Jeremy lifts his eyes, volleying them back and forth between the two of us with what I know is guarded hope. It’s then that I feel the inclination to speak up. “Didn’t Sean just put an old couch in the commercial bay for his hookups?”
Dom turns to me. “Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Didn’t know if it was too soon.”
I lean over, eyeing Jeremy. “It might balance the scales, right? Maybe enough so Santa won’t cross us off his list before Christmas Eve.”
“Fuck Santa,” Dom snarks, walking backward into the warehouse, his silver eyes dancing, “we’re going to make him look like a stingy, irrelevant fuck.”
I can’t help but chuckle as I trail him to join the rest of our growing nest. Ironically, that night, after committing my first punishable offense and after a thorough tongue-lashing from Mom for breaking curfew—which seemed laughable in contrast—I slept like the dead. But I woke up with a smile, spending my shower replaying the events of last night in detail, realizing Dom made our induction to a life of criminality utterly painless.
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