Page 44

44

JAMIE

I t’s only two in the afternoon, but it feels like four a.m. after a hard night of drinking. As I guide Sawyer into the house, I’m wrung out.

“Cup of tea?” I ask, slowing near the second set of downstairs couches.

“Sure.” The sadness in the whispered word is the worst. We’re in a death spiral to a major depressive episode.

Sawyer hovers near me as I put the kettle on. I can’t see my way clear to drop the other bombshell, but we can’t move forward till I do.

As she adds milk and sugar to her cup, I’m still at a loss. This is exactly why I never tell anyone about what happened to Jude. Afterward, it feels like it’s always there, lingering like a festering sore that won’t heal.

“There’s something else,” I say, forcing myself to go ahead. “It puts your family squarely in the middle of this.”

Her cup freezes halfway to her mouth.

In for a penny, in for a pound now, I spit it out. “The man who took Jude, it’s Robert Allendale.”

Sawyer’s cup clatters as it hits the island counter, splashing tea everywhere. Her head shakes as our eyes lock. “My dad? No, there’s no way.”

“Yes.”

“Jamie, no.” She takes a reflexive step back. “He’s a good person. And I was never… He never—” Her head shakes, her eyes darting from side to side, avoiding mine. When she finally looks at me, she says, “You’re not sure though, right?” Tears well in her eyes and spill over her lashes.

“Listen—” My fingers grip the lip of the counter until my knuckles whiten.

“Because I can’t see it. He’s so kind to kids… to me when I was little.” Her voice cracks on the words. “He never hurt us.”

Leaving my untouched tea, I move toward her. “Maybe he didn’t want victims in his own house. More likely to get caught.”

Glancing up at me, she meets my eyes with a stiffening spine. “What’s your proof?”

“I recognize him.”

“From seeing him for a second? Years ago?” She draws in a shaky breath. “Could you be wrong?”

Irritation creeps into my voice. “I’m not wrong.”

“We live in Connecticut. What happened to your brother, that was in Ireland. That’s not one of the places he travels for work.”

“Sawyer,” I say sharply. “Do not?—”

“He’s the only family I have left.” Her voice is pitched high with alarm. “You can’t expect me to just—eye witnesses often get identification wrong. The trauma and everything, it can distort memories. It’s been years, right?”

“Thirteen years. And yeah, he does look different. He’s older, but not so different that I can’t see the connection.”

“Maybe it was someone who looks like him. Plenty of men do. He’s got male cousins. It could be one of them. Or someone else entirely.”

“You need to fucking listen, Sawyer.” My voice has risen so much I’m almost shouting. The dam has broken for the second time today, but now it’s fury rather than pain that’s spilling out. “It’s him. And he’s going to pay for what he did. Along with anyone who protects him.”

Sawyer stumbles backward, and I grab her arm to keep her from falling.

“Anyone who protects him? Why do you keep saying that? Is there—did Brad know something about it? Was that why something happened to him? Clare said?—”

“Allendale’s son got what he?—”

“J,” War barks.

We both turn as War jogs down the steps.

His thunderous expression is directed at both of us. “What the fuck?”

My heartbeat hammers like the hoofbeats of racing horses, and my muscles scream for release, wanting to smash something. But War’s furious interruption is like having ice water dumped over my head.

“Let go of my arm.” Sawyer winces as she tries to pull free. “You’re hurting me.”

My grip eases, allowing her to escape a few feet.

“You,” War says, turning to face her. He points a finger. “Sit down on that couch.”

“No.” She starts to circle around the couch to head in the direction of the door.

I move quickly, grabbing her so War won’t. “Hang on.” My voice is measured now, calmer.

“Are you doing this?” She glares at me. “I said let me go . Are you forcing me to stay? The way someone forced Jude?”

“Don’t fucking compare me to a disgusting pedophile.”

“Then, stop using force to overpower me! You’re scaring me.”

I let go and hold out my hands in surrender. “Just sit down. We’ll talk this out.”

“I don’t want to sit down. I’m going back to the dorm.”

War moves with his signature economy and stealth to position himself between her and the exit.

When Sawyer spots him in her path, she says, “Stay out of this, War. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

I shift positions, so I’m near him and can whisper without being overheard. “You’ll make it worse, mate.”

His blazing anger stares daggers at me. He didn’t want her here at all, let alone for us to have an explosive fight. Also, a woman ignoring War’s order to do something never sits well with him.

“Leave it alone.” My voice is low but steady.

War stands his ground.

Sawyer has taken the opportunity to grab her bag and phone. Her fingers slide across the device’s screen. A moment later, the ping of an answering text message fills the air. “Ash is coming to get me.”

War’s narrowed eyes move from Sawyer to me. When he speaks, his tone is grim. “For fuck’s sake.” That War would like to slam his fist into my jaw is a given. Instead, he stalks past me to the stairs.

Sawyer opens the door and walks out. I follow her, hit full force by the cold the instant I cross the threshold.

“Sawyer.”

As soon as I’m close enough to grab her, she spins to face me and puts out her hands. “Don’t. Don’t grab me again.”

My outstretched arms and how long it takes me to lower them are a clear indication that that’s exactly what I want to do.

“Someone implied something about my brother’s murder.” Her eyes bore into me like a drill. “That his death didn’t have anything to do with things he’d done as a fraternity member. It was actually because he’d angered an organization called C Crue. Is that right? And are you part of that gang?”

It’s as though the air is being siphoned from my lungs. C Crue is not something I can talk about with her, especially in the midst of a blowout argument.

“I want to show you something my brother drew. I’m pretty sure you’ll?—”

“Can you answer my question, Jamie? Are you working for some kind of organized crime syndicate?”

Clenching my jaw, I stare straight into her eyes. The silence stretches on until she grimaces.

“Are you… a killer?” Her whisper is almost lost in the wind. “Were you involved in what happened to my brother?”

“That’s your biggest concern? Even after he denounced you publicly and abused you privately? Do you even consider him a brother?”

“I’m not—this is not about how I felt about Brad. You’re right. He was a toxic person. That doesn’t mean you or anyone had a right to murder him in front of me. I’m having nightmares about the back of his head being blown apart by a bullet. I can still see the blood.”

“I’m sure whoever pulled the trigger never meant for there to be a witness. He probably didn’t know you were there.”

“Did he think I was still in Foxgrove?” she whispers. “Because I said I wasn’t going to Florida? And so it was safe to go down there and do it then, when I should’ve been a thousand miles away?”

Shivering, I fold my arms across my chest. I need to get her back inside before I freeze to death. “I didn’t say that.”

She shudders and takes a step back. “Are they—my dad and my brother—the reason you got involved with me from the start? To get close to them?”

“No.”

“You can answer that directly, huh? But not the rest?”

“Listen, if you stay, we can talk this through. Let me get my coat. Text Ash to say you don’t need her to drive you. When we’re finished speaking, I’ll take you to the dorm if that’s what you want.”

The roar of a motor fills the air.

And Sawyer says the words I’m thinking. “It’s already too late.”