Page 7 of Midnight Curfew

I drift my eyes over each man, seeing one holding his hand to his mouth like he’s working a toothpick, one tapping a cigarette, another just standing there, and one facing straight toward me, hands in his pockets.

I have no idea who they are, but if there’s one thing you learn, growing up in the Bay, it’s that men whose shoes shine like that are used to being just about anywhere they want. Even if the shoes are fucking ugly.

I leave it alone. Leaping up to the steps, I take them two at a time, climbing to the second floor. Heading through the open door to room 244, I leave the lights off and walk to my desk. I don’t turn on my computer. I don’t play music. I just open a drawer and pluck my phone out of my pocket, dropping it inside. Closing it, I plant my fists on the desktop and bow my head, letting out a long breath.

Four years ago, my oldest brother fell in love and after that our lives were never the same. The Jaegers finally started having conversations, because until we could figure out a way to make the Bay too valuable for St. Carmen to take away from us, we’d have to make ourselves valuable instead.

Macon’s instructions were clear. Go on the offense. We would strategically place ourselves in positions of influence around St. Carmen.

One of us would be a cop. One in city council. One, a teacher, and one in real estate.

Another would control liquor distribution, and another would put Sanoa Bay on the social media map. You know, just in case we need to amplify threats to our community.

And then one…

I shake my head, unable to hold back the smile.

Well, one would be a…

Fuck, I can’t even say it out loud, it’s so ridiculous.

So, yeah, that covered just about everyone. Five brothers, one sister, one wife, and Clay, my sister’s girlfriend—fiancée—would bury the dead. Another indispensable position in a community. She studied mortuary science.

I thought for sure I’d be the cop or the one controlling the alcohol, but Army’s incessant search for a Saint to mother his five-year-old son prompted Macon to think he wasn’t the best one to be around a staff of largely female St. Carmen teachers. And Trace and Liv weren’t giving up their dreams, and I didn’t have any, so…

At twenty-five, it does feel good to have a career, though. My siblings range in age from thirty-five to twenty-two, and every single fucking one of us lives in the home our ancestors built over in the Bay. It’s nice to have this space to myself and be the king of this particular castle.

And oh, am I. One year of teaching under my belt, I happily accepted an offer to teach summer school, too. I like it here.

“Hi.”

I lift my head and catch sight of a man leaning into my doorframe.

My blood rushes hot, filling my ears, and I can’t hear the air conditioners anymore as I stare into the darkest blue eyes I can ever remember seeing. Ones I haven’t seen for four long years.

Of course, I can’t tell they’re blue from this distance, but they look how they always looked in the dark.

With his shoulder pressed into the wood and one hand in his pocket, his gaze seems to dance under those golden blond brows, a shade deeper than his hair.

I dig my knuckles into my desktop.

I should’ve known he was one of the suits downstairs. I knew he’d show up at one point. It’s been four years. He would’ve graduated college by now.

Rising up and straightening my spine, I can’t tell yet if I’m still the taller man.

Callum Ames quirks a smile. “I honestly expected you to wrap a hand around my neck,” he says, adding under his breath, “Again.”

I turn the page of my lesson planner to the new week. “But we can’t avoid each other forever…”

His chin dips, his eyes still locked on mine. “No.”

I can’t avoid him at all. He’s an alumnus of Marymount Academy, where I now work.

And that little pseudo–Skull & Bones gathering I interrupted downstairs was no doubt a Ministry meeting. Now that Callum has finished college, I’m guessing, he’ll take his place among other boosters—and probably the board of trustees—who really make the decisions about who will teach their children and what they’ll learn.

And who attends this school.

There are many members—all alums—spanning a few generations, but the majority will have left town for the summer by now, and others limit their participation to simply making donations and casting the occasional vote. It’s the younger men enjoying their newfound power trip who take a more active role.