“Relax, it’s a friend,” Ledger promises as we’re joined by another. “Blair meet my buddy, Wesley. Wesley, this is Blair.”
Without light, his features are hidden but I can tell he’s about the same height as Ledger and has wide, imposing shoulders, but he’s a little leaner than my godfather.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you, Blair, but we’ll have to do a proper greeting back at the house,” Wesley says. “Where are the bodies?”
I hesitate a moment, wrestling with the idea of including someone else in this without conferring with Dad first. After a strained second, I relent with a sigh.
“They’re just inside under some old hay,” I tell him. “If you just drop a match by the entrance, there’s a line of gasoline that will lead straight to them. They, along with the structure, should burn pretty quickly.”
Wesley doesn’t hesitate. He simply turns on his heels and heads for the barn.
“Why would you bring someone with you?” I hiss as Ledger pulls me toward the truck again. He opens the back door of the cab and helps me in. As I practically drag myself across thebench seat, I push, “Ledger, why are you getting someone else involved? What if they get hurt?—”
Ledger actuallygrowlsbefore he says, “Wes will keep his mouth shut while he also watches our backs. Trust me, alright?”
It’s not that I don’t trust him. It’s that I don’t want another life to end because of me. So far Tiffany and Eddy have been innocent casualties in this mess. How many more will follow suit? What happens if this Wesley guy gets caught in the crosshairs?
But Ledger has asked me to trust him. Given that he’s one of only two people Idotrust—I don’t fight him on this. At my defeated sigh, he slams the back door and rounds the front of the truck. Just as he opens the driver-side door, the barn erupts into flames. Ledger climbs into the front and a minute later, Wesley joins us, taking the passenger seat. The minute he slams his door shut, Ledger whips the truck around and we’re off.
“I put one of the guys in the truck bed and covered him with some tarp,” Wesley tells us. “I’ll take him further west after you two are settled back at the cabin. That way it looks like Blair kept going, past Caddawalk.”
“Good call,” Ledger replies, his answer clipped.
Rather than sit up, I lay along the backseat, grateful that I no longer have to stand or keep my head on a constant swivel. If someone shows up to start trouble, Ledger's here now to be my second pair of eyes. My eyelids slide closed as the warmth in the cab wraps around me. The night’s not over yet. Once I get to the house, Dad and I will have to regroup and plan. I probably won’t get to really rest until Dad gets behind the wheel and we’re headed out of here. In the meantime, I’ll happily take this short reprieve.
It’s only when the truck comes to a stop that I realize that I’ve fallen asleep. I jerk awake as Ledger climbs out and slams his door shut. Despite my body’s protest—the aches and fatigueweigh on me, feeling more intense now than before—I reach for the handle and push my door open to follow him. I jump down out of the cab just as Ledger rounds the front of the truck to join me.
“Santi didn’t stay the night but Rhett’s probably asleep, so rather than wake him, you guys should enter through the back,” Wesley offers as he gets out of the truck.
“Rhett?” I ask, my words a little slurred as I fight through the tired haze in my head.
“He’s a friend that lives here with us,” Ledger grumbles, as he places his hand on my lower back and guides me toward the house.
I study the log cabin we approach. It’s two stories, with a cute wrap-around porch and a green metal roof. We walk up the few steps onto the porch but then he veers us to the left and we head to the back as Wesley suggested. I can hear his friend’s heavy footsteps as he follows.
I wonder if I should thank him for not asking questions and simply taking care of the dead bodies, or if I should be worried that he didn’t hesitate to cremate a corpse for a woman he doesn’t know. After a short mental debate, I decide to keep my mouth shut.
We enter through a back door that opens into an old, outdated kitchen. It’s a large space with a butcher block island in the center of it. Well-loved pots and pans hang above the island, while wooden stools are situated around it. There’s a hint of something savory in the air, as if dinner had been made in here just a few hours ago. My stomach growls loudly in response.
“Want something to eat?” Wesley asks as he shuts the door behind us.
“She can eat after she cleans up,” Ledger retorts, not letting me speak for myself.
I wave without looking back at Wesley. “No, thank you, though.”
“Not a problem,” he says easily, as if it really wouldn’t have put him out at all.
Ledger leads me past an open living room that is full of mismatched furniture and an old television before we head up a flight of steps. We pass a few rooms, but all the doors are shut.
As we walk, Ledger’s hand never leaves the small of my back. The warmth of his hand is noticeable after dealing with the chilly air for days on end. A small voice in the back of my head whispers to me to lean into the touch, and into the man. There’s barely any space between us in the tight hallway and it wouldn’t be too weird if I just brushed up against his side…
No, no, no… I can’t think like this. Maybe I hit my head, or maybe it’s just Ledger’s touch. It’s quite possible he’s my kryptonite. Something about Ledger Porter makes me weak. If I’m not careful, I might end up doing something stupid like before. Idon’twant a second regret when it comes to Ledger.
We stop halfway down the hall. Ledger opens a door, flicks on the bright white bathroom lights, and gently guides me inside with a hand on my back. Without saying anything, he gestures toward the shower-tub combination. Rather than move toward it, I watch as he crouches down in front of the sink and opens the cabinet doors. With a soft grunt, he reaches in and pulls out a small first-aid kit. He places it onto the counter, opens it, and out comes rubbing alcohol, bandages, a stitches kit, and gauze.
"Oh," I murmur, understanding slowly dawning on me. "Thanks, I’ll take care of any injuries in a bit. We should probably?—"
"Take your shirt and pants off."
