“It is, indeed, my man.” I grin at him as he pushes his glasses up on his nose. “You get the first slice. You’ve earned it.”
Elliot’s eyes brighten when she turns around and sees me with the stack of pizzas and hops up from the stool she’d been sitting on to get plates and napkins as I line the boxes up on the island.
With a flourish, I wink at everyone. “Help yourselves.”
Once we’ve all got food, we settle in at the table and conversation steers directly back to the events of the day.
Kingston eyes me, jutting his chin in my direction. “I didn’t know you were recording the whole thing, Arch. That was a good call.”
I shrug. “Sometimes I use my head. We’re lucky I thought of it, though, because I was panicking.” Not only had I shared with the police the camera feeds from inside the house that showed Zeke snatching Elliot, I’d also sent them the voice recording I’d had going in my pocket while we were in the cellar, which had total admission from Zeke that he’d killed Will because he’d been blackmailed by Nick. It also contained the information about Alec, Joel, and Stuart disposing of Will’s body, so they’ve been taken in for questioning about their part in what happened last year.
Bridger looks up nervously from his slice of pepperoni pizza. He seems a bit uncomfortable. Can’t say I blame him, as he’s the only asshole left in the house. “Do you think Alec, Joel, and Stuart are in a lot of trouble?” For once, he looks contrite—strange to see the big oaf like that—perhaps realizing the error he’d made in going along with the asshole antics of his sponsors.
Kingston shakes his head. “I doubt they’ll show their faces here. Once they’re finished being questioned, they’ll be too busy making phone calls to their parents who will be lawyering up. Concealing an accidental death, disposing of a body… I don’t quite know what the exact charges will be, but the least of their concerns right now is coming back here or attending classes.”
They’ve earned whatever they have coming to them. Zeke, too. He’ll be away for a long time, especially since it came out that he’s responsible for the deaths of three people. The first two seem to be accidental, but the circumstances surrounding them are heinous. Underage drunk driving, hit and kill a kid, then leave the scene. Cut off air supply and send a brother into cardiac arrest. Walk away and let “friends” think they were responsible so they’ll get rid of the body. What a fucking asshole. The third homicide was obviously not an accident. Zeke will pay for all three, I’m sure, and none of us will feel sorry for him.
My only regret over the whole situation is that Nick met his death too quickly. I would have liked to watch him suffer for all the pain he’s caused Elliot and Dane. And Will.
Dane’s drink glass hits the table with a loud thump, grabbing our attention. All eyes on him, he takes a deep breath, then blurts out, “I’m really fucking sorry for what I did. With the notes, I mean. My intentions were good. I swear.”
I glance at Cannon who is sitting across from me, his eyebrow hitched in the air. Elliot had told us about Dane’s confession while we were waiting for the police to clear out. I’m guessing he figures whatever he tells her, we know. Sort of like a married couple. Only we’re… a quadrouple? Did I make that up?
“I wish like fuck you’d come to us instead, Dane.” Kingston works his jaw back and forth. “Come to think of it, I wish we’d known everything you were going through last year. You’ll never get any judgment from us. I’m really fucking sorry for the way you lost Will.”
There’s a murmur of agreement that rolls over the group of us like a gentle wave that tugs at my heart. I see more than one pair of glassy eyes in the group. Elliot gets out of her chair, comes around the side of the dining table where Dane is seated, and throws her arms around his neck, holding on tight. She whispers something in his ear, and I have no doubt, knowing Elliot like I do, she’s reassuring him that everything will be okay. I can see these two being really close. Neither is a replacement for Will, but they’ll have a relationship of their own from here on out, and maybe that will help to heal the wounds they both have from their loss.
Several minutes after Elliot has returned to her seat, she takes a bite of her pizza and from the way her forehead is pinched, I’d say she still has something on her mind. I reach over, covering her free hand with mine. “What’s going on, Peaches? Let’s get it all out, baby.” I brush my thumb over the back of her hand, uncaring what anyone else might think about it. I’m done hiding the relationship the four of us have. People can deal or get the fuck out.
“The phone.” She glances around the table. “I thought they were going to throw a fit that we had it.”
Bringing evidence we’d been holding to the police’s attention had made for some uncomfortable moments. We let them know why Elliot’s prints were on it and how we came to have it. In light of the circumstances and the mounting evidence against Zeke and Nick, I believe we were the least of their worries.
“Think about it this way, Peaches—there was nothing on the phone to implicate anyone of anything. No evidence at all. The only thing that phone did was let us know that someone had taken it from Will, that someone had been concealing evidence… and they—Zeke and Nick—were trying to make you think it was us.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
I glance around the dining room table at our rapidly dwindling brotherhood. Seven remaining. Kingston, Cannon, Elliot. Dane, Taggart, Bridger. And me, of course. It’s crazy to think our numbers have practically been cut in half since last year. It’ll take the brotherhood a while to recover, if we ever really do.
Taggart takes a sip of his soda, then raises a cautious hand like he’s in class, which makes me inwardly chuckle. “Did anyone have a clue there was an entrance to the house through the cellar?”
“Nope. But I overheard part of what they were asking Zeke. And he said it was actually Nick who knew about it. It’d been documented in some journal entry of his great grandfather’s.”
We’re silent again, eating our pizza for another few minutes.
“Can I say something?”
All eyes turn warily to Bridger. “I, uh, I don’t expect any of you to believe me. And we may never be best friends. But, Elliot? You've proven you’re a badass and deserve to be here at least as much as I do. Hell, probably more. Not saying I agree with women in the brotherhood. But you’re okay with me.” He gives Elliot a cautious smile.
It takes her a moment to respond, and I don’t even blame her there, but when she does, she nods definitively. “Apology accepted, asshole.” His mouth drops open, but her gaze has already shifted to Kingston. “Hey, speaking of, are we, um… are we continuing with the initiation?”
Cannon grunts and shakes his head, blue eyes piercing hers. He even goes so far as to tug her seat a fraction closer to him.
I get it. He’s feeling protective as fuck, just like I am. “That’s a no, Peaches.” I steadily look at each of the three initiates who have weathered the most complicated, craziest year in brotherhood history. “K, wouldn’t you say they’re full-fledged brothers now?”
Kingston eyes them, gripping the back of his neck with a firm hand and tugging. “Yeah. Sorry you don’t get the thrill of finding out who won the final game or attempting to pass your individual test. But I think you’ve been through plenty in the last few weeks that makes up for that. Hold your heads high. You made it. You’re officially brothers of Hawthorne Hall.”
THIRTY-SIX
