“Quieten down, trollop—let’s deal with one shameful secret at a time. Life’s too short to bulk-buy trauma.”
“Admit you liked it, and I’ll shut up.”
“I liked it—okay?” she berates her reflection, throwing up her arms.
“Admit you love them, and I’ll leave it there.”
“That doesn’t sound much like shutting up.” After a moment of silence, she trails her fingers over the tattoo we gave her, and says softly - the heartbreak evident in each syllable - “I have more love for them than I know what to do with. So much so that everything in me hurts to admit it.” She shudders, removing her underwear and hopping in the shower. The mumbling beat of a Paramore song emanating from her lips as she begins to sing along to the song playing in her head.
The anger boils over as her words cut me bone deep. I shut off the camera we hid in the air vent in her bathroom and throw my phone down onto her bed.
“I was enjoying that.”
“Her words mean nothing. She left us to rot. What makes you think any of that was true?”
“I don’t know whether you were just present for the same conversation, but she seemed pretty fucking genuine, Cal.”
“Yeah, I thought that too the last time she told us she loved us. Don’t be a fool, Coop.”
“You won’t ruin this for me, for us.”
“We were here to teach her a lesson, to make her pay.”
“That might have been why we were here in the beginning, but it’s different now. Pig-headed might be the personality trait you’re choosing to embody right now, but you need to look through the anger. She wants us, she’s always wanted us. I’m not willing to give that up.”
I don’t voice the response that latches itself to my throat, like a constricting vice grip as I struggle to inhale.
I’ve been so consumed with the hate that I feel, I don’t know if there is any room for love.
EBONY
I return to my bedroom, relieved that they hadn’t left. If I didn’t pour out my heart to them now, there would never be a right time. Coop waits patiently on the end of my bed, ready to listen, Caleb is a big ball of pent up rage so I don’t chastise him for wearing a hole in my rug as he paces. The softly softly approach has never worked with these men so I get right to it.
“I had two options that day. I either let you get taken by Detective Silas, knowing what he wanted to do to you both, let alone what he would do after he found out you helped murder his brother. Or I could make a call and ensure that the police who didn’t hold a grudge against you would come and take you in. I couldn’t….I wouldn’t….” I fumble with the words as they stick in my throat, realising no words seem big enough to explain away my reasoning. I take in a sharp steadying breath and will the tears filling my eyes to relent. “I had a decision to make and very little timeto make it. I don’t think you’ll ever know how truly sorry I am.”
The apology feels thick and grainy on my tongue. It’s so long overdue, but the mess of emotions from that day, from the days after when the gossip around town that the boys would be charged to the highest degree had begun to fester, I knew they likely wouldn’t want to hear what I had to say. It was my fault they were branded callous murderers. But everything they did, they did it to save me. I never forgot that.
The tears fall, my limp wet hair trailing forward over my shoulder and dripping onto the rug beneath my feet. I grip onto the towel wrapped around me, the chill bouncing between us cutting down bone deep as I shake. A bitter cold engulfing me as I look up into Caleb’s eyes, trying to find my place there. Without a word, Caleb lifts me and carries me to my bed, pulling back the thick duvet and placing me down. I expect him to cover me up, turn on his heels and leave, but he surprises me by kicking off his boots and climbing in beside me. Cradling me to his chest and letting me sob as the tension I’ve held onto for so long melts away. I feel the bed depress with Cooper’s weight behind me, and I let it all out. Sniffling with my eyes closed tight as I lose myself wrapped in their comforting scents.
“I couldn’t lift you both, I tried. I refused to leave one of you behind.” The words clog my throat as I summersault headfirst into the darkness, the steady thumps of their heartbeats lulling me into a fretful sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
EBONY
SIX YEARS EARLIER
Stumbling into Hells Haven Police Command Centre, my knees scraped and bloody, my arms decorated with circular mottled bruising that is beginning to turn purple. My lip split and my cheek swollen. He hadn’t even attempted to hide his rage attack this time. Aimlessly wandering through town, unsure of where to go, knowing the twins were in Widows Walk, a town over on an errand for their father and wouldn’t be back until tonight, I was limited on options for a safe haven. I didn’t want to hide out in the barn and risk the wrath of Emanuel Knox; he and my foster father had grown close these past few months, and I’m not altogether sure it’s not their sadistic proclivities that have bonded them. Emanuel Knox has no qualms about beating his wife and sons—both he and Nathaniel, shockingly considered pillars of the community. It should be clear by now, this entire town is fucked up, a society of degenerates just out for themselves, uncaring as to who they hurt on their climb to the top.
I tuck myself away in the corner of the room andwait patiently for Rosa to see me. She had been my tutor for a while when I’d first arrived, and she’d always seemed caring.
“Ebony. What are you doing here?” she whisper-yells through gritted teeth pulling me into a back office, and for a second, I’m stunned that she hasn’t acknowledged the state of me. “You can’t be here. Silas is up in arms about the entire situation.” She’s like a jittery cat left out in the cold as she glances worriedly behind her at the office door. I want to scream, to detail what has happened, to raise my arms and point out the damage to my body, but the words die on my tongue. It’s sobering when you see the mask slip from someone’s face, when their true identity is staring right at you. She’s just like all the rest of them.
“This is the wrong side of the tracks to be reporting the captain’s brother, Ebony, and you know it. I can’t help you here. My hands are tied.”
I know she’s right, but the truth doesn’t settle me any. How can I win if I’m faced with corruption at every turn?
“Let’s get you a cup of tea, and I’ll take you home.” Care mixed with panic is an ugly sight; it feels almost unnatural in its fakeness.
