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B

My heart thundered in my chest as I crawled up the steps on my hands and knees. My fucking legs were like rubber, every joint screaming. My body ached. My mind careened from one question to the next.

How did they find me?

Who are they?

How will I bury Alice now?

Will I get to my gun first?

Panting like a dog, I dragged myself across the floor and grabbed the strap of my bag, yanking it down from the counter. The contents spilled across the floor. Car keys, Alice’s lipstick, my one little pill, and the gun all skittered across the wooden floor.

I lunged after the gun, scraping my knees on the worn timber. My fingers closed around the grip as I rolled onto my side to face the door.

“Don’t fucking move,” a man yelled as they poured in like a fucking army, guns aimed and ready to shoot.

Three women. Six men. And the meanest-looking dog I’d ever seen, all muscle and spit, snapping at the lead that was tethered to the fucker who had dug up Alice. Jaxson Foster. The bastard I’d ordered Cooper to kill.

“Put the gun down!” three of them shouted at once.

I raised the gun and pressed it to my temple .

They froze.

“Beatrice. No. Don’t.” Cobra leaped forward on his metal leg. I knew him well; he was one of the monsters from Alpha Tactical Ops. The bastards who killed my boys.

“Get back,” I yelled, hating how my voice shook.

A woman stepped forward. She was tall, blonde, and calm in a way that pissed me off.

"My name's Tory," she said. "Tory Anderson."

I blinked. Tory Anderson, the pilot? The one I sent Eddie to kill?

"Stay back," I barked.

"It's over, Beatrice," Jaxson said, yanking the lead as the fucking dog lunged forward, showing me its fangs. "Put the gun down."

I gripped the gun tighter.

Tory crouched down, slow and steady, like she was approaching a wounded animal. She met my eyes. "We know about the orphanage," she said. "We know what happened to you."

"You know nothing," I snapped, tightening my finger on the trigger.

Alice's voice bloomed in my head, soft and fierce all at once. Don't do this, B. Not like this. Your story isn't done. Our story isn't done.

I gritted my teeth. My whole body shook.

Tory didn't move. "We know what they did to the orphan kids. And how no one ever stopped it."

"I did," I snapped. "I stopped it."

One of the men stepped forward. Parker Foster, the cold case detective.

"We know about Alice Turnur," he said.

"You know nothing about her," I yelled at him. "Get back. Get the fuck back."

They all backed up except Tory and the dog.

Whisper from Border Force put her gun into a holster on her hip and walked out of the room. Through the doorway, I saw her stop at Alice’s body. Then she strode down the steps, heading toward the beach.

Tory looked at me with something like pity in her eyes. "We know you loved Alice," she said quietly. "You saved her, didn't you? "

I glared at her, jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might shatter.

Behind Tory, Jaxson moved forward again. His gun trained on my head. "Put the gun down," he ordered.

The fucking dog growled, baring its teeth.

My finger twitched on the trigger. Maybe this was the perfect end for me. Like Ned fucking Kelly. Going out on my terms.

"I was an orphan too," Tory said.

"Bullshit." I snarled at her.

"I was. My parents died when I was nine. Our Lady Saints Orphanage took me in."

"Yeah. Well, you're fucking lucky." My voice cracked. "At least you knew your parents. Mine dumped me on the steps like a piece of dog shit."

She nodded. "Yes. We know."

I jerked my head toward her. "How the fuck would you know that?"

"We found the intake records," she said.

Whitney stepped closer. "Yeah. I grabbed all those boxes before the fire you lit took hold."

Something cracked inside me. No. No .

"I saw you shoot Cooper," Whitney said, glaring at me.

“He deserved it,” I spat. “Crooked fucking cop.”

“Just like Eddie Walsh,” Jaxson said. “Let us help you, Beatrice.”

“Fuck you. Nobody wants to help me.”

“We do,” Tory said. “We want every bastard who hurt you and Alice to pay for what they did.”

“Bullshit.” I shook my head. “They never pay. Not a single one of them. Until I got hold of them.”

“And we understand why you did what you did,” Tory said.

She was fishing. Prodding. They didn’t know. Not really.

A man I didn’t recognize stepped in, holding something in his hands: my notebook.

“Looks like she’s been writing a memoir of sorts.” His accent was off; part American, part fucking weird.

Parker turned toward him. “Show me.”

The man flipped it open and handed it over.

“Jesus,” Parker muttered, scanning a page. “You murdered your teacher when you were fifteen?”

“She deserved it,” I growled. “I’ve written down why.”

“I can’t imagine what you went through, Beatrice,” Tory said. “No child should live through that.”

Parker turned the page, and the man who found the notebook leaned in, and so did the woman beside him, who I also didn’t recognize.

“Jesus,” Parker said. “How many people have you killed?”

“Not enough. Blade and Viper are still on my kill list.” My eyes locked on Cobra. “Fuckers.”

“Blade and Viper?” he asked, brows knotting. “Why?”

“They killed my boys, Thomas and Fraser.”

Silence fell.

Then the woman I didn’t recognize stepped toward me.

“They didn’t kill Thomas,” she said. “Alice did.”

My blood froze. “You lying fucking bitch. She did not. Alice never hurt anyone.”

“She did, Beatrice,” the woman said gently. “I was there when it happened.”

“Bullshit. Twisted fucking lies.”

“It was an accident. Alice went for the gun. I tried to stop her, but it went off.”

“No.” My voice cracked.

“Alice shot Thomas,” she said. “But it was an accident. She didn’t mean to.”

My chin trembled. My grip on the gun faltered.

“You’re lying,” I whispered. “I know you’re fucking lying.”

My mind crashed into the memory of Alice after I pulled her out of the hospital. After Thomas was killed. She was never the same. It was like something was eating her alive from the inside out.

Was it guilt?

She couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t look me in the eye.

I thought it was sorrow. I thought it was grief for our boys. But maybe it was something else.

No! She would’ve told me .

We had no secrets.

Cobra pulled a stack of photos from his back pocket and leaned forward to hand me one. “Is that you and Alice?”

My mouth fell open, and as I stared at the photo of Alice and me sitting on the edge of the angel fountain, tears welled in my eyes. “Where did you get this?”

“In those boxes you tried to burn,” Whitney said softly.

“That’s you and Alice, isn’t it?” Jaxson asked. There was something steady in his voice, grounding me.

I nodded, unable to speak.

“That’s the fountain where you buried her,” Jaxson added, his tone careful.

“She loved that fountain,” I whispered, running my finger over the photo.

Her hair glowed in the sunshine, yet she looked so fragile. I couldn’t remember the picture being taken or who took it.

We were always being watched in that fucking place.

“Beatrice,” Tory said gently, breaking the silence. “How about you get up, huh?”

She motioned toward a nearby chair. “We want to hear your story.” She glanced around, nodding at the others. “All of us do.”

Footsteps thundered up the back deck, and Whisper came stomping back through the door. “She was digging a grave,” she said. “Down by the beach.”

My head snapped toward Jaxson as my rage boiled over.

“I had to bury Alice again because of you. You dug her up , you fucking bastard.” My voice cracked. “You had no right.”

I swung the gun toward him.

The dog lunged with a blur of muscle and teeth. A scream tore out of me as I jerked my hand back, just before its fangs tore through my fingers.

My heart boomed as I shoved the barrel against my temple.

If I’m going to die, I want it on my terms.

“No!” Tory begged. “Beatrice, don’t. Please tell us your story. Tell us about Alice. You loved her so much. We know that. Look at what you did to save her. Don’t let her memory end like this. She wouldn’t want that.”

I glared at her, breath ragged, jaw clenched. Something in her eyes shredded my sanity. She knew . Somehow, she understood what I was going through .

“Just . . . just back away,” I yelled.

Tory straightened, slow and steady. “Okay,” she said. “Everyone, back up and give Beatrice some space.”

They all stepped back. Four of them slipped out onto the deck, and the floorboards creaked beneath their feet.

The shift of light and the open sky beyond the frame lifted some weight off my chest. That was where I wanted to be.

Out there. Not in here. If this is where I would die, I wanted Alice in my view.

And the beautiful beach that brought us peace.

A needle of pain stabbed my heart.

“You want to know my story?” I asked Tory, but then I turned to Parker. “You want to know who the crooked cops are? And where the bodies are behind every cold case you’re chasing?”

I flicked my gaze to Jaxson. “You want to know about those kids’ skeletons you’ve been digging up at the orphanage?”

They all nodded, and the energy in the room shifted. Then a realization hit me:

They need me.

They want answers they’ll never get without me.

They would keep me alive now.

“Yes, Beatrice,” Tory said, her voice soft but steady. Her hands were still raised, palms open. “Please. We want to know what you and Alice went through. We want to understand. We want to know everything.”

I tilted my head toward the open door. “Then I want to sit out there.” My voice was calm, belying the fury churning inside me. “I need fresh air.”

I want to see the view Alice loved. I want to see Alice.

Jaxson stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not going anywhere until you put the gun down.”

Tory crouched slightly.