By seven thirty, I found myself banging on the Ramons' door. Three of the four elaborate cars were parked in front of the house so I knew someone had to be home. I kept banging my fist on the door for another twenty seconds and then Zander opened it.
"Well, well, well," he said with a smirk and narrowed look in his eyes. Though I knew there was a big chance he'd be the one to open the door (obviously because Ryder was AWOL and Merida's car was gone), the actual sight of him was still a letdown and reminder that I despised his presence. "Are you—"
"I'm here to get what you stole from me," I interjected.
"A kiss?" he asked with a frown and a look of disgust I had shared with him and Colin last night, as if he was the one disgusted by the thought of the embrace.
"Stop being a smart ass," I ordered. "Just give it to me and I won't tell Ryder or Andrew you took it."
"Okay...this could still play into my 'stolen kiss' guess, but I'll bite," he replied. "What are you talking about?"
I scoffed and ducked under his arm to enter the house and march up the stairs without his permission. I ignored his shouts behind me in order to get into his room.
As soon as I realized that Preston was going to be unpunished for what he did to Aaron and Marc and Stella, I went on a craze. Cassandra and Andrew weren't home, but someone had dropped off my dad's will, a copy of the treaty, and the bejeweled key beforehand. But I didn't care about any of it. I only cared about the missing weapon. I tore up my room and the house trying to find the dagger. I figured that if anything, I should be the one to end it, but I couldn't find the dagger anywhere. I knew it was in my possession because Ryder had given it to me after the tribe meeting so where was it now? Even if I had fatigued the memory of Ryder returning it to me, he had all my stuff so it would've been returned with the lot.
I had looked in just about every place I thought it had resided within the past few days but it didn't turn up. Part of me was grateful because as I calmed down, I realized that I didn't really have it in me to kill Preston. And as I thought about that aspect, I figured that neither could Aaron or Stella if they had the option to. I doubt Andrew could even do it. But that revelation only led me to the only other person who had a vendetta to settle against another werewolf and access to the possibility that Ryder kept the dagger after the meeting: Zander.
When I got to his room, it was more disheveled than Ryder's, but less torn through than Andrew's. He had a messy bed with the fitted sheet threatening to slip from its corners, his desk covered with items, and clothes hanging on doorknobs or edges of surfaces. But as I glanced over it, I couldn't immediately find the dagger, but I knew it had to be in here. I began rummaging through the drawers of his dresser until he entered his room.
"What the hell are you doing?" he roared at me. He neared me, but before he reached me and could pull me away from his dresser, I was already maneuvering to glance at his small shelf of books and cases. I saw nothing but turned to him anyways.
"I know you have my family's dagger," I told him. He didn't frown in denial or look shocked for me accusing him. He just pursed his lips.
"I don't have it."
"Bullshit," I named. "Preston's out of the hospital and you're the only eligible person to kill him now that Aaron's opted out."
"Well that's news to me," he finally frowned for a second before smirking. "The Aaron thing—not my eligibility. It's always been clear to me that I'm the only one with the strength to kill him."
I rolled my eyes and turned to see what new corner of his room I'd explore next.
"I really don't have it," he said and then I zeroed in on the actual difference between his and Ryder's room. Though the rooms looked to be about the same size (still twice the size of my room), Ryder's bed was pushed against the middle of the wall. But Zander's was wedged between the wall and a window with a built in window seat. And if I was correct, there was storage in the seat.
I glanced at a denying Zander before climbing onto the bed and setting my goals on opening the storage seat. However, I immediately knew it was the right target because as soon as my knees hit the bed, Zander was after me. I flipped the lid and stuck my hand between the wood, grabbing onto anything I could, but my hand grazed something sharp like the edge of a paper. Before I could pull it out or throw it to the side, my hand was seized, causing me to make a fist with its contents and Zander was flipping me over beneath him.
He was half way straddling me and I had no choice but to look up to him.
"If you don't have it then you wouldn't mind me taking a look," I hissed regardless of how his arrogant presence was replaced by a very defensive and violent look.
"Just because I don't have your stupid dagger doesn't mean I don't have other shit I don't want you or anyone else finding," he retorted. My eyes narrowed as I glared and tried to squirm out of him, but it was impossible with his knees planted firmly on either side of me. He returned the look I gave him and released the hand that was in the box. I pulled it down and registered that I had picked up a photograph that was now wrinkled. In the picture, a blonde girl with wide green eyes and full lips was trying to contain her smirk as if she dared the photographer to take her picture in a bluff.
"What, another victim on your list?" I insulted even though I was the one at the disadvantage right now.
"Speaking of body counts," he began. I scoffed at the very fact that body count had the negative connotation to mean how many kills or how many people someone's slept with. But the fact that Zander brought it up made me roll my eyes as much as possible. "Ryder didn't seem to show up after our kiss."
Good, I immediately thought only because I don't think I'd enjoy seeing Ryder murder his brother, no matter how vexing Zander was. But I stayed quiet in wonder of what he was getting at.
"Seems to me like we need to do something racier to get him here," he threatened and I immediately began trying to buck and roll from under him as he caught my wrists in one of his hands above my head.
RYDER! I finally yelled through my mind and maybe actually out loud as Zander's free hand ran up the length of my body. No matter what Zander did—poison me, kiss me—I hadn't ever feared him because I figured that considering I was his brother's mate, we were family and he wouldn't actually hurt me. But in this position, it wasn't a matter of loyalty or trust within his manipulative intentions. I was a small girl thrown between a strong male and a bed and I was more scared for my wellbeing rather than mad about dealing with his sociopathic tendencies. When he started leaning in, I jerked up and head-butted him. My forehead was immediately throbbing and I saw Zander wiggle his nose as if to alleviate the pain before he was yanked from behind and was thrown into the opposite wall.
Somehow in this situation a cool relief was washed over my body and it was due to the boy standing over his brother's body. Zander coughed and shifted in the collapsed pieces of his desk but Ryder approached me by leaning on the bed with one knee and cupping my face with one his hands like I wanted him to do yesterday after I was smacked.
"Are you okay?" he asked with ten times the amount of concern he'd ever amounted towards me. His chocolate eyes quivered in heightened distress as if to make up for all the shunning he had provided me with throughout the week.
"I...I'm fine," I feigned, captivated with the look he gave me. One of his hands dropped down and grazed my leg as it fell onto the bed along with Ryder's gaze.
"Nice of you to finally show up," Zander teased in a pained laugh as if this is exactly what he planned.
Ryder's jaw clenched shut as he looked up above me instead of glancing over his shoulder at his kin, but he took a strained deep breath in order to pull me near him so he could quickly order me to go home in a rightfully demanding whisper.
A hollowing feeling shuddered through me at his command and I knew it wasn't some Alpha-powers over his pack type of order, but I figured this felt an awful lot like it considering I didn't hesitate to oblige since I trusted his control over whatever happened next. I scurried off, trying not to glance at Zander who was standing out of his former desk and smirking at my exit.
By the time I got outside and finally let out the breath that I didn't know I was holding, I realized that I still held the picture of the girl Zander hid away. At one glance, I'd think she was his girlfriend or something, but I remembered the conversation I had with Zander once before of how he didn't see the point in dating someone he knew wasn't destined for him. I had pressed to him that even if that was the case, he still needed someone to be there for him and he was sure to respond that he had someone he trusted and vice versa. I mentioned how long he thought that would last and it seemed to strike a nerve with him.
So how could this passively sensitive guy I met who promised he had changed from before, alter into exactly who Ryder said he was? It was simple. Ryder said that Zander was a good brother and a terrible alpha. The brother in him wanted Ryder back, but Ryder's absence invoked a sense of entitled leadership that Zander once possessed and inspired an array of exploitation. And tonight was a casualty of those clashing descriptions.