“Eddie visited you?”
My entire world shifts on its axis, and I’m grateful I’m sitting because otherwise I’d be on the floor. A million thoughts pour into my brain with one at the forefront—I’m going to kick his ass for putting himself in danger. Aftereverything, all the ways I tried to keep him out of the line of sight, my brave, heroic, wonderful, andstupidman walked right into the line of fire. To save me.
Drake clears his throat again. “He did. Opened my eyes to everything that was happening to you on the outside. That’s when I knew that while I couldn’t make everything right, I could at least fix this for you.”
“You think this makes things right?” I hiss. “Not even close. You are a monster for what you allowed to happen to those girls. A fucking monster. And personally, I don’t think you deserve a speck of special treatment after what you’ve done. But if it means you bring down this ring so no other girl has to be afraid, or kidnapped, or sold into goddamn slavery, then so be it.”
Any other day, he and I would be in the middle of one hell of a row right now, but Drake is silent, unguarded, letting me hit him over and over, knowing he deserves every blow and more.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low, his tone solemn. “Kiki, I get you hating me. But I swear to God, as long as I’m breathing oxygen, nobody is going to fuck with you again.”
“Drake,” I say, my voice steadier than it’s been since the night of his arrest, “I don’t need any more of your fucking help. You claimed to know where the bodies are buried? Start fucking digging.”
Chapter 32
I'm Home
Kiki
Seems Ash knows the pulse of Sparkwood better than I do.
By the time I leave my friend’s house, my phone is already lighting up with missed calls.
Within twelve hours, I have a dozen bouquets littering the front porch of my cabin and my voicemail box is full of calls ranging from your basic, run-of-the-mill apology to requests for me to act as the listing agent on their house.
While I’m grateful, and more than a bit cynical about their sudden one-eighty, none of these are the people I want to see.
The only person I need right now won’t be back in town until this afternoon.
When I dropped by the job site, Mike informed me that Eddie was still out, handling meetings and suppliers before heading to Theo’s practice at the hockey rink.
Normally, I’d avoid the place like the plague. Memories of the baseball field taunts hurled at me by Sparkwood’s upstanding locals continues to haunt me, even months later.
But I can’t wait any longer.
Give me some credit. It’s a miracle I’ve waited this long to track him down, and the only reason I haven’t blown his phone up like some relentless groupie is because it’s Theo’s birthday weekend. No way am I crashing that kid’s party.
Besides, this isnota phone call conversation. This baby needs to happen live and in person.
I walk into the hockey rink, realizing I haven’t set foot inside this place since high school.
Damn, it smells exactly the same and I’m not entirely certain that’s a good thing. The rink emanates this odd blend of stale sweat, rubber, and peanut oil that’s been used one too many times for frying.
Not that it seems to faze the kids as they squeal with excitement, haphazardly chasing pucks around the ice.
“Kiki, you’re here.” Eddie’s ex, Deirdre, stands to my right, a soda in her hand and a funny expression on her face.
I see the gatekeepers are working overtime today.
“Hi, Deirdre.”
“I wanted to speak with you.” She approaches carefully, as though the slightest movement might spook me.
And yesterday, that would have been the exact right way to handle me.
But I left that timid, tired version of myself by the roadside along with my discarded memories of Drake.
“Go ahead.” I’m half-listening, but my focus is far greater than whatever she has to say, as I scan the rink, searching for Eddie.
