I try to call him one more time to no avail and then decide to let myself in and wait for him. I know there’s a key he leaves in a stack of rims round the back, so I use my phone to locate it and let myself inside. The place is cold, silent, save for the ticking of a clock and my footsteps echo as I make my way to his bedroom. The bed is still made, the place tidy, which tells me he hasn’t been back here at all today.
I stare at the screen of my phone for a long time, hoping for him to call me back but I end up falling asleep there, laying in the middle of his bed, waiting for him to return.
Chapter Thirty-four
As far as my fights have gone, this is the cleanest one yet with only a small split lip that stopped bleeding about five minutes after it was inflicted, and apart from the bloody and bruised knuckles, I’m mostly uninjured. My opponent, however, can’t say the same thing.
I almost feel sorry for the guy, he couldn’t have known I had a lot of frustration and anger to work through and his face was the only way to release it.
Now that the fight is over, I’m pushing through the crowd, not bothering to stop for anyone who tries to speak to me. The sun is lighting up the horizon when I finally make it out onto the street, turning the dark sky a shade of dusty purple. I hadn’t realized so much time had passed but that’s what it’s like in the pits. It’s a whole other world down there.
I jog to the jeep, unease settling in as I switch on my phone and see several missed calls from Marly. I left her before the sun had even rose this morning, needing the space to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now. My feelings for her have changedand I can’t ignore them anymore or pretend that I’m not fucking falling in love with her.
I didn’t expect it to happen, I didn’twantit to happen. Love was never an end goal; I didn’t expect to have it when I reached the finish line and now that I’ve got it, I’m terrified. I’m terrified of her finding out about the past, about me and what her family did. But mostly, the guilt of falling in love with her almost outweighs that emotion. What would my brother say? How damn disappointed would he be if he found out I was in love with the sister of the man who murdered him.
My gut churns with the memories, of the fire and everything that happened after and I try to push them down; to push them away, but they assault me anyway.
We buried my brother thirty minutes ago, at least we buried what was left of him. They didn’t allow anyone to say goodbye, he didn’t have an open casket and while I’d stood there, staring at the box that contained his body, I could hear his screams as if they were still happening.
Everyone cried, they sobbed as Sadie read her eulogy, her stomach growing with their unborn child, her face wet with tears that haven’t stopped since she found out her boyfriend, and the father of her child was dead. I worry about her, worry about what the stress is doing to her. She still has a couple of months to go before their son is born and she’s barely eating or sleeping. I’ve been there as much as I can but there’s only so much that I can do.
I pretend I’m not also being swallowed by the grief.
Logan was the only family I had left, our dad died when we were kids, and our mom passed a few years ago. He was mybest friend and now he’s gone, and the world just doesn’t seem right anymore. None of it makes sense anymore.
It’s the anger that keeps me moving. The violent rage that burns through my blood and makes my heart run like a rampant bull inside my chest. The physical pain of the burns on my body keeps it fresh and serves as a reminder of what Logan felt while he was burned alive inside that barn. I’ve only been out of the hospital for a day and have several more appointments and procedures to be done but I’ll always have the physical reminder ofwhatthey did.
It should have been me.
It should have been me inside that barn, it should have been my life lost. Logan was ten times the man I’ll ever be, I have nothing to lose but he did. He was so much better than me.
And I’m going to make them pay for it. Every last one of them. The mayor and his murderous son. His entire family, even if they’re innocent which I highly doubt they are. Everyone who had something to do with this is going to pay in blood. The police and fire department are just as guilty, hiding the truth from those who ask the questions, blaming faulty electrical systems and bad weather.
It’s all fucking bullshit!
“River,” Sadie touches my arm gently, her cheeks wet, and lashes clumped together. “You, okay?”
I glance down to her swollen abdomen, at the hand cradling it, “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”
She shrugs, “Tired, Riv, I’m so tired.”
“Go home and rest, Sadie. I’ll come check on you in a while.”
“Where are you going?” She asks when I turn to leave.
“I have to settle this, Sadie. We can’t let it go.”
Her eyes well with more grief, “They’ll hurt you too, River. This baby can’t lose his father and his uncle.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” I promise. Not with what I have on them, not with the evidence. I can’t go to the police, but I can use it to make them confess.
I leave her with that vow and head to the jeep, getting behind the wheel and peel out of the parking lot, heading straight for the garage, except when I get there, there’s an unusual car parked out front. Expensive and brand new, gleaming in the morning sunshine.
Glancing inside, I see it empty and look around, trying to spot them. When I don’t, I head to the door to let myself into the garage, pulling out my keys, only the door is already unlocked. Trepidation works through me as I step inside and then stop in my tracks at the mess that surrounds me. Paper is scattered everywhere, picture frames shattered on the floor while the desk has been completely overturned.
I snatch up the baseball bat I keep in the reception area of the garage and head through, looking for the culprit. The living quarters at the back of the garage are in much the same state, my mattress is half on, half off the bed, the drawers overturned, shattered cups and plates on the kitchen floor and standing right there, in the middle of the tiny room I call a bedroom is Mayor Winchester.
He stares at me coldly, his own anger a match for mine and in his hand is the drive that contains every bit of evidence. The footage is from the night of the fire, and it clearly captures Liam Winchester coming onto Logan’s property, blocking the only exit from the barn and then setting it on fire with gasoline and matches. It had made me throw up the first time I watchedit. Liam only left when he heard me arrive but by that time, it was too late. The barn was old, the wood dry and the flames had engulfed it in seconds. He stood and listened to Logan scream for at least five minutes and didn’t even flinch.
