Page 104 of Hellebore

I stand there for a long moment, her clothes still pressed to my face, the mansion quiet around me except for the distant rumble of thunder outside.

I will find her.

I have to.

I get my black cargos and pull on the hoodie, the fabric heavy against my skin. In the mirror I catch my own reflection, the raised scars of her name carved across my chest. My beautiful girl. The sight of it sends a fresh wave of pain through my chest, sharp and constant, like a blade that never leaves.

I slide the hoodie down and walk down the stairs.

“I need to think,” I tell Easton as he peeks from the dining room.

I walk to the car and speed out, tires kicking up wet gravel as I tear through the gate. The road opens, empty ahead, dark from the trees covering the sky and endless under the storm. I press the pedal harder, the engine roaring like something alive and furious. Wind slams against the car, making the whole frame shake, but I grip the wheel tighter, forcing it steady as the speed climbs.

Who the fuck took you, Briar?

Why did they risk coming here, right under my roof?

Why now? Why not when I was in jail? The assault was five years ago. They had all that time. They could have taken you then, when I was locked away and powerless.

I push harder, the trees blurring into dark shadows on either side of the road. The car vibrates beneath me, the tires gripping and slipping in the wet dirt as the rain starts hammering the windshield in heavy sheets. My mind sharpens with the speed, questions slicing through the panic like blades.

She moved. They followed her but did nothing. Not one attempt. Not until now.

What changed?

The rain pounds louder, the wipers fighting to keep up as I take a curve too fast. The back end of the car slides for a second before I correct it, heart pounding in time with the engine. I keep repeating the question in my head, over and over, every scenario flashing through my mind like lightning.

Why? Why?! What changed?

Enzo’s words cut through the noise like a sudden light in the dark.

“Until you showed up.”

Until I showed up.

No. That doesn’t make sense, it was always about Briar. Wasn’t it?

Before I went to prison I watched her like a hawk. No one came near her, I went inside and she gets assaulted. She moves and they don’t do anything. I show up and they come for her.

Fuck.

What if it was never about her?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I slam the brakes. The car skids violently, tires screaming against the wet dirt as stones and leaves spray up around me. I wrench the wheel hard, the whole vehicle spinning in a violent arc before I straighten it and slam the pedal again. The engine growls as I race back toward Hellebore, the storm raging around me, my mind finally clear and burning with one single, terrifying truth.

They were never after Briar.

They were after me.

I reach Hellebore, slamming the brakes so hard the tires scream against the wet gravel. The sound echoes off the massive stone walls like a gunshot in the night. I run inside, boots pounding across the cold floors, rain still dripping from my clothes and leaving dark trails behind me. I burst into the dining room, the twins turning to face me in unison.

“Don’t investigate her or Archibald.” They look at each other, expressions shifting like they think I am losing my mind. “Me. Investigate me. Before I went to jail. All of it.”

“Drystan—” Enzo stares at me, his eyes narrowing.

“You were right.” I sit next to Easton, the chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. “I am the fucking problem.”