Page 119 of Love is Angry

That’s good.

I can work with that.

Chapter 50

Rhue

Noelle is very good at telling people exactly what they need to hear. The cops who show up think it looks like a drive-by, though they can’t make it fit the neighborhood. A few other theories are flying around as we wait for them to be finished with us, but none so far-fetched as the truth.

I see Contreras managing the team, but he doesn’t look at me. He knows what I saw back at the station—he knows I’ll never trust him again. Eventually he tells someone to take our statements and prints and cut us loose. The cop who does so tells us to keep our phones on and don’t leave town. I’m choosing to take the latter as more of a suggestion than an order.

After all’s said and done, I end up in a café, sitting across from Noelle. I’m eating and washing the food down with coffee. I wish it was whiskey, but I’m hoping I’ll be leaving here soon—preferably to rescue Maddie from wherever dad has her holed up.

Noelle’s been playing with her tablet for a while, scowling at it while she taps the screen. She said she’s trying to enhance the photo, but I don’t see how she could work with the picture wewere sent. It’s just Maddie tied up against a black background. There’s nothing to show.

Eventually, Noelle sighs. “It’s the best I can do,” she says, sliding the tablet over to me. “Anything about it look familiar?”

I look at the picture and my heart stops.

There’s no fucking way.

Rochester fadesbehind me in a sea of twinkling lights.

Ahead, darkness spreads, all black and ominous as I try to focus on what I can still do, rather than dwell and suffer over what I cannot. Madison is alive, that much I knew from the moment I left my father back at the mansion. She’s alive—and, unless I’m very sorely mistaken, she’s at the cabin. Our cabin. It feels like a test. A scavenger hunt with the world’s highest stakes.

Goosebumps explode all over my arms as I grip the wheel harder and step on it.

My phone keeps ringing. Laura. Steve. At least two of my father’s assistants. There’s this whole frenzy unraveling around our family regarding election day next week. Everybody’s up and texting and calling, the last big push to get the locals out to vote for Julian Echeveria—the goddamn devil in an Italian suit.

I’m disgusted. I’m ashamed of my last name.

My mother must be turning in her grave right about now. The audacity of this man!

It hurts me on so many levels to have this awareness of truth. To understand that my father isn’t just a serial rapist and a filthy opportunist, but that he’s also a murderer. He killed…

“Motherfucker,” I hear myself say with a trembling voice.

He killed my mother. Sibel basically confirmed it.

My phone rings again, and I can’t take it anymore. It’s Laura, for the eighth time. I can’t push her away again. I need her to get back on board, to stop whatever foolishness is driving her to abandon the mission she started in the first place.

“Hey,” I answer, putting the phone on speaker.

“Where the hell are you, Rhue? Dad’s been looking for you since you left.” Ironically, Laura sounds upset with me. Me, of all people. I can’t help but roll my eyes while I focus on the road ahead. The interstate is relatively free at this hour. The opposite lane is a garbled mess, but the way out of Rochester is a breeze. People are coming back to the city to begin a new week tomorrow.

“I’m on my way back to Ithaca. Let’s just say it’s been a crazy couple of days.”

“Rhue, what happened? Why won’t you talk to me? How can I help you? Please. I wanna help.”

“You can’t help unless you stop gaslighting yourself and open yourself to the possibility that you were probably right all along.”

There’s a beat of silence, broken only by the nearly-silent whine of her wheelchair in motion.

“This is something we should talk about. Like, away from the house, away from everybody,” she says in a quiet, almost whispered, rush. It almost sounds like a concession. Like maybe she’s actually willing to listen.

“Away from Steve the Manny, too, I hope. You do realize he’s on Dad’s payroll, right?”

“Yeah, him too,” she agrees. “Rhue, I really think you need to listen to me. Come pick me up, let’s talk about this. We’ve always been able to talk before. We’ve always been there for each other, haven’t we?”