The bodies burn, their forms slowly consumed until there’s nothing left but blackened ash and smoke. I know deep down, in the marrow of me that this is it. We’re bound together now in a way we never were before. We’re all killers. And we’ve just erased the evidence.
Jackson steps forward, reaches out, and shakes Abbot’s hand. The detective’s grip is firm, his eyes flicking briefly to Beau, then back to Jackson.
“Call me in a week,” Abbot says, tone cool and professional, though something darker glints behind his eyes. “The APB will be cleared by then. You two’ll be officially dead as far as the system’s concerned.” He pauses, letting that sink in. “Shoot me a text tomorrow with the names you’re using. First, middle, last. I’ll get you real paperwork. Birth certificates, IDs, Social Security. Everything you’ll need to start over.”
Jackson gives a small nod, his voice even. “We’ll do that.”
Abbot surveys the fire one last time. “Alright then. I’ll be in touch. But for now, get her home. Let her rest. You’ve all had one hell of a night.” His gaze shifts between me and Jackson. “I’ll give you fifteen minutes. Get as far away as you can before I make the call.”
Jackson meets his eyes, voice quiet but full of intent. “She’s strong. But we’ll take care of her. That’s a promise.”
Abbot raises an eyebrow, clearly measuring his words, then nods, satisfied. “Good. Now get out of here. Have a good night.”
Jackson nods once, then turns to me. “You ready?”
I look at the fire, the smoke, the scorched earth where monsters used to lie. I think of the dagger. The scream. The blood. I think of the way Jackson and Beau held me like I was something worth protecting. Worth avenging.
And I nod.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I’m ready.”
Abbot turns and walks off without another word, calm and collected as he heads back to his car.
Beau’s arm slides around my shoulders again, pulling me close for just a second before all five of us climb into the car. Without a word, we head to the store to grab the other vehicle.
Epilogue
One week later
The car hums steadily beneath us as we make our way from the meeting with Abbot. Jackson’s driving, focused on the road, while Beau is completely absorbed in his new driver’s license. It’s funny how he can’t stop looking at it. He’s been examining it like he is trying to find something wrong with it. Something to make it not legit.
“You good there, Beau?” I ask. I'm half teasing and half amused by his obsession.
He glances at me in the back seat. A cute grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, I just can’t get over how well this worked out. I mean yeah we had our fake ID’s for over a year but this one is the real deal. Very legit. It’s nice to not have to stress over it anymore. I kind of like it.”
I chuckle, but then it hits me, they officially got new identities. Their old lives are gone. With those names officially gone so is all the baggage. It feels like a breath of fresh air.
Beau laughs, changing the subject, finally putting the license away. “So, you think Nolan and Liam are behaving themselves with Dayla at the store?”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “I hope they’re not scaring the crap out of her,” I say shaking my head.
We pull up the bookstore, and Jackson kills the engine. I slide out of the car first and stretch out my legs before heading inside. The bell above the door jingles as we step in making it feel like home. I glance over to see Nolan leaning against the counter, talking to Dayla. I can tell by the way he’s smirking that the conversation is most definitely not about books. They’re definitely flirting.
I roll my eyes, muttering under my breath, “If he keeps playing that charm on her, he might never leave Salem.”
Beau gives a short laugh beside me. “I think you’re right. Nolan’s charm will have Dayla wrapped around his finger in no time.”
We walk over to the chairs by the window, where Liam’s already sitting, looking bored out of his mind. I sit down on Beau’s lap without thinking about it, feeling his arms wrap around me. A moment of peace in the chaos.
Almost immediately, Nova comes bounding over, her tiny paws tapping against the floor as she leaps into Jackson’s lap.
I watch her settle there, curling up like she belongs.
“Traitor,” I mutter, looking at my cat with mock hurt. “I knew you loved Jackson more than me.”
Jackson laughs, scratching Nova behind the ears. “She’s just being loyal.”
“Loyal? To you? I’m the one who feeds you, little furball.” I raise an eyebrow.
