Chapter Forty-Nine—Ryan
Staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, Ryan thought a monster reflected at him. It was his fault Molly was…gone. And gone meant differently than it had just twenty-four hours ago. Then, gone meant taken by Tom Harris because Ryan called him out of spite. Now, gone meant forever.
Dead.
Earlier, denial, pain, and anger filled CJ’s momentary breakdown. Ryan understood his cousin faced so many other issues that contributed to him swinging at Uncle Christopher, but Molly’s disappearance devastated him.
Cocking his head to the side, Ryan searched his face for signs of vindication or amusement. Jealousy-fueled emotions that led to an innocent girl’s death.
Uncle Christopher had searched for her for weeks. Ryan repeatedly went to Johnnie for assistance. Perhaps, he declined to help because he knew the truth.
She was gone.
Tears rushed to Ryan’s eyes and he heaved in a breath. If anyone ever found out the role he played, he’d become an outcast. CJ already suspected him. He’d kill Ryan. Unlike with the Rory situation, this most definitely concerned CJ.
Ryan thought of confessing. Dying would take away his grief and guilt. He didn’t want to die, though; he just didn’t want to spend the rest of his life thinking of what she’d suffered and regretting, with every breath he took, that he’d caused it.
What kind of motherfucker did that?
Through his tears, he looked at the scattered pimples on his face. Long another source of deep-seated outrage toward his cousin. CJ—the Caldwell kids—were nearly perfect.
According to Mom and Pops, genetics played a role. Mom and Uncle Christopher never suffered with an overwhelming amount of acne. Their mother, Aunt Ophelia, and another long-dead aunt did. Aunt Meggie was gifted without the curse of acne. Joey—Snake—wasn’t.
Pops had spotty acne as a young teenager. Dev dealt with sporadic bouts, too.
Outside of the immediate family, Mattie had almost perfect skin, while Rory’s was a disaster. Even worse than Ryan’s. Harley, too, suffered.
Only Ryan blamed CJ for something he had no control over. His cousin was a pretty cool dude. Ryan actually liked him, if he wanted to be completely honest. Yet they could never be truly close. The ghost of Molly would always stand between them.
Ryan hung his head, lost in self-pity. A knock came on the door. Swiping his cheeks and sucking back his tears, he drew in a deep breath.
“I need to take a shower, Ryan.”
Harley’s morose voice hit him in the center of his chest. He was responsible for that, too. He drew in a few breaths to calm himself, splashed his face with cold water, then opened the door.
She stood in a bathrobe, her long hair in two pigtails. Her eyes spoke volumes. Sadness dulled her normal sparkle. Even when she was an ultra bitch, her eyes were bright. Day by day, Willard’s humiliation chipped away at her soul.
Ryan no longer knew what that motherfucker’s end game was. He’d promised Molly’s return for Ryan’s help. Willard claimed he hadn’t kept his end of the bargain because he had yet to see Mattie. The brainless oaf expected Ryan to magically transport himself into her room?
No house was as open as the Caldwell house. Placing cameras in Rebel’s room had been easy. If Harley hadn’t been staying under Mom and Pops’s roof, Ryan couldn’t have gotten to her either.
“Are you okay?” she asked hoarsely.
He searched her face, gave her a half smile. “I was thinking the same about you.”
Shrugging, she averted her gaze. She had no comeback. No bitterness.
She seemed so broken.
Broken—like him. Like CJ.
Broken like Rule.
Mattie.
Rebel.
Rory.
“Molly’s dead,” Ryan croaked, his tears starting again.
She blinked. “You…you got confirmation?”
“No. I just…” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
He still wore his trousers and white button-down from his day at school.
After witnessing the scene at Turn Creek Bridge, he’d come home shell-shocked.
He told Pops what happened, went to his room, and locked himself in.
He hadn’t even gone down for dinner. “Uncle Christopher…” He shook his head.
“CJ…CJ finally accepted it,” he whispered. “It’s time I did, too.”
Her eyes widened. He stiffened his spine, preparing for her coming attack. She’d always been less than sympathetic over Molly’s disappearance.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, scooting by him into the bathroom. “I know how much he cared about her. You, too.”
Turning to face her, Ryan backed into the hallway. She looked…not like herself. Nothing like the girl he’d crossed swords with.
She shut the door without another word.
Her devastation was just one more sin to lie at Ryan’s feet.