Without warning, Connor leaps on Freddie from behind,taking him down to the ground. He rolls Freddie onto his back and punches him square in the face once. Then again. Freddie doesn’t even fight back. He just takes it, his eyes empty of emotion or reaction. I run toward them, tugging at Connor’s shoulders until he finally gets off of him.
When I look at Connor’s face, I see the anguish and the pain. He’s crying, his heartbreak as obvious and acute as a broken bone. It breaks my heart. Tears spring to my own eyes, and I shake my head, desperate to hold them back. Both of us can’t fall apart. Not now.
“Motherfucker killed my sister.” Connor clasps the top of his head with both hands, turning his back on both of us like he can’t take it anymore. Like a lie by omission, Freddie’s crime is one of absence. He could have caught Emily as she ran, could have taken whatever blow she offered and stood in the way of her demise.
But instead, he stepped aside.
He made space for tragedy, when he could have stood in its way.
And somehow, inexplicably, he’s managed to live with himself since then.
I think of all the times I’ve seen Freddie smile or laugh in the weeks I’ve been at Wickham. Jovial, at ease, puffed up with pride and his sense of self-worth. And all this time, he’s known. He’s carried the events of that day on this cliffside with him, and it hasn’t slowed him down one bit.
I didn’t know a monster could look like this, but maybe I should have.
“What happened next, Freddie?” I need to know.
Freddie rises to his feet, swaying a bit. His face is battered,thanks to Connor’s fist. A bruise is already forming beneath his eye. “The screaming! My God, Belinda, the screaming wasimmense. Isla stood right at the edge, yelling for Emily, yelling for someone to help, yelling for me to call someone. She wouldn’t shut the fuck up! My head was throbbing from it all.” He touches the side of his face. “Quite like now, actually.”
He’s so casual about it all. He disgusts me. To my right, I can literally feel the frustration coming from Connor in thick, hot waves.
“And then?” I prompt, Connor turning to face us both once again.
Freddie frowns. “And then … what?”
I keep my voice steady. “How did Isla end up sprawled on a ledge thirty feet down? How did my sister end up in a coma?”
Awareness lights up his face, and he rears his head back. “Oh, that’s simple.” He pauses, that tiny smile reappearing on his smug face. “I pushed her.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I’m blind with white-hot rage at Freddie’s nonchalant confession and his smug, shitty tone.
I pushed her.
With the words echoing in my head on repeat, I lunge toward him, a snarl ripping from my throat. Grasping hold of Freddie’s coat’s lapels, I snarl as I lift my knee, nailing him square in the crotch. Freddie doubles over with a howl, clutching himself, and I’m about to knee him in the nose when Connor tugs me back at the last second. He wraps his arm around my middle while I kick and scratch at Freddie, screaming at him.
“Fucking bitch! Get your whore under control, Wells!” Freddie staggers to the side and bends over. He rests his hands on his knees and begins to retch with a groan. He heaves and curses, and all I want to do is hurt him again.
Hurt him the way he hurt Isla. The way he hurt Emily.
Fuck it—those hurts are too good for him.
“Why?!” I yell, my voice animalistic, unrecognizable tomy own ears.
In contrast, Freddie’s voice is smooth as silk. “She was screaming, as you may recall,” he says. “Kneeling on the edge, yelling to Emily.Emily! Talk to me, Emily! Are you okay?Like I said—stupidity really seems to be a genetic inheritance in your family. Anyway, she was there. She was wailing. She was … trying to prove you’re a Canterbury. So I helped her reach Emily. Or I tried, anyway. Didn’t take the way I hoped it would.”
“You’re a fucking monster!” I scream, swiping at the air with all the power I can muster. I dig my feet into the dirt and try to break Connor’s hold. If I can get to Freddie, I can rake my nails down his face and pull his hair and make himhurt, make him feel some kind of pain, make him show me he can feel anything at all.
“Billie. Baby. Calm down.” Connor’s even voice is soothing, and I focus on the sound. Taking a deep breath, I relax in his hold, but he doesn’t let me go. Which is smart because I would’ve launched into a new beat-down on Freddie if given the chance.
“He’s not worth you possibly hurting yourself,” Connor reminds me, and I nod, though I can’t speak. I’m breathing heavily, anger coursing through my blood and making it run hot. He killed Emily. He almost killed Isla. And he doesn’t give a shit.
I hate him.
Worse? I’m related to him. He’s my cousin. If they’re all as bad as Freddie, I don’t want to claim his family as any part of mine.
Freddie is still hunched over and clutching his stomachwhile he wheezes like he can’t catch his breath.Good.“Miserable whore.” He glares at me. “How dare you?”
