Wyatt steps up and jokes, “I guess they took the meaning literally.”
I snort and then clear my throat to cover it up, trying to have a modicum of respect.
“It’s okay. We all did the same thing,” Owen quips, patting me on my back.
“What the hell did she do to get the rat treatment?” Wes mutters.
That’s what I’ve been playing in my head.
“Didn’t you have a date with her earlier?” Wyatt states.
I nod, “Yes, and she had a bitch fit when I told her to stop acting like a spoiled brat. Then she squawked about how we’d get ours, Ariah will, and blah, blah, blah, before she stormed off,” recounting the scene from earlier.
At the time, I thought she was spewing the same whiny bullshit, but then I recall a crucial part of what she said.
“She’s going to destroy you all,” I mumble.
“What?” Sebastian questions, stepping in front of me.
I massage the bridge of my nose. “Before she left, she said, ‘she’s going to destroy you all’,” I restate.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean and who is she? Elise?” Wes snaps.
Someone had to be watching— unless this is unrelated, but that can’t be possible. What did she say that made someone take this level of retribution?
“It has to be Elise. Right?” Wyatt says, running his hands through his auburn curls.
A wail cuts through the air. “No, no, no, no, noooo! Not my baby. Please tell me that’s not my baby girl,” Mrs. Brewster shouts as she attempts to dive between us to get to her daughter.
Sebastian’s arms shoot out, wrapping around her to prevent her from reaching Meagan’s body. “You can’t touch her. Not yet,” he explains, tone coaxing.
Mrs. Brewster pulls from his hold, wheeling around, and smacks him.
“This is all your fault. All of your faults. You and this fucked up town’s rules,” she continues to pound in his chest. “She’s my baby, and you made them take her from me.” She aims again, but this time Sebastian grabs her wrists.
“I let you get in the first shots because you’re grieving. Don’t take my kindness as a sign that I can be fucked with. Remember who the fuck we are,” Sebastian barks, releasing her from his hold.
Mr. Brewster comes into the room and pulls his wife into his chest, “Come Ophelia. This isn’t the place for you,” he instructs, then looks at us, his eyes imploring for leniency. “Please, I’ll take her from here. She’s— Meagan was our miracle. Please try to understand.”
Sebastian nods. “Just get her out of here before she does something stupid.”
Mr. Brewster lifts her in his arms, bridal style, and strides toward the door. As he carries her, Mrs. Brewster’s head pokes around his arm. Glaring, she mutters, “I hope you get what you deserve for taking her from me.”
“Hush Ophelia, you’ve fucking said enough. Remember your goddamn place,” Mr. Brewster snaps, storming out of the room.
I know she’s grieving, but I won’t make the mistake of ignoring angry confessions.
Looking back to the guys, I say, “Make sure we look into the Brewsters. Ophelia Brewster moves to high priority. She and her daughter have said things eerily similar.”
I huff out a frustrated sigh, taking in Meagan’s prone form. We need to get to Madeline. She’s the key to finding Elise and ending this.
“If this keeps up, there won’t be any girls left to choose from,” Wes states.
Truer words have never been spoken.
“They won’t get to Ariah ever again. I’ll see to it. Meet me back at my place,” I growl and make my way out of the Brewsters’ house.
Determination sets in my chest as I climb back in my car.
