Diamonds and Straitjackets (Serenity Falls)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

MAVERICK

“ P eter !” My body is trembling so violently my vision blurs. The blood has all but drained from my face, leaving me lightheaded and nauseous. I can barely breathe. My lungs refuse to completely expand and contract, nearly frozen like my feet beneath me. “P-Peter!”

On the ground nearby, curled up into a ball in a puddle of his own piss, my best friend sobs. Each one comes as a ragged gasp of air before it’s heaved from his lungs. It’s like he’s wounded, an animal caught in a trap, riddled with pain and dying a slow, agonizing death.

Littered all around us are lifeless bodies.

Men dressed in all black, guns laid out beside them.

I can see pools of blood around each one.

Ten minutes ago, I didn’t even know Peter and I weren’t alone.

It had just been me and my childhood best friend lying on the hood of one of his dad’s cars, waiting for Mr. Woodrow to return.

Our banter and laughter had echoed around the old, creepy shipyard, lit only by a few tall orange streetlamps.

Our laughter and the soft lapping of the Pacific Ocean against the pier were the only noises for an hour.

Then the screams started, and these black figures emerged, guns raised and ready.

But they hadn’t been trained on us.

It all happened so fast it felt like some sort of terrible nightmare. Did it actually happen? It must’ve because dead bodies are everywhere. The people who did this, they moved like ghosts, slicing through each gunman—who I now realize were James Woodrow’s security—like they were butter.

Five masked people, wielding only knives, had taken out over a dozen armed individuals.

Dazed, my gaze travels to the single shipping container—newer than all the rest—that’s now open and empty.

The masked individuals had opened it moments ago.

The loud creak of metal hinges still reverberates inside me.

The container’s contents are in the wind, just like the ones who committed the carnage all around us.

They’d let us live but not without burning this horrific moment into our memories for the rest of our lives.

Triggered by the sight of the dark interior of the container, my stomach lurches. My abdomen seizes so hard I’m forced to bend at the waist as vomit is violently expelled onto my feet and the concrete.

“H-he’s going to kill us,” Peter wails. “Oh god, Father is going to kill us. He’s going to kill us !”

I can’t respond. My stomach is still turning inside out.

Even when it’s empty, I continue to heave.

Tears drip from my eyelashes as I gasp, trying to breathe through each hard retch.

Sweat beads on the back of my neck as I struggle to survive the inner turmoil that’s now making itself known to the world.

How the hell did a favor for James Woodrow turn into a night of horror?

We were told to stay here and wait for his return.

It was a simple request. He’d been slowly giving us more responsibility when it came to his work, and we were both excited to help.

But Peter and I should’ve asked questions.

Like, where exactly are we? There’s no way we would’ve found this place if we hadn’t followed Mr. Woodrow in one of his company cars.

This dock isn’t on the map, and the GPS on my phone doesn’t work out here.

Neither of us had bothered to ask why he brought us here either.

Or why was he doing business out here so late on a Friday night.

Or what exactly was the point of watching this container when this place is so clearly abandoned.

More importantly, we should’ve asked what was inside the container.

Instead, Peter and I, without questioning any of this, had waved goodbye to James when he went to pick up his associates.

I regret every question I didn’t ask.

I thought I knew the Woodrow family. Having grown up next door to them but spending most weekends and holidays under their roof, I was sure I knew everything about them.

Peter has always been my best friend. We shared everything with one another.

And Everly, his little sister, has been my absolute rock in life—always there for me even when I don’t even realize I need someone to stand beside me.

Our parents exchanged gifts during the holidays, vacationed together, and went to the same parties.

The Woodrows have always been an extension of my family.

Tonight, however, I just bore witness to a dark secret they’ve been keeping.

As the nausea finally subsides, I suck in a shaky breath. I slowly straighten while I use the back of my hand to wipe any remnants of puke away from the corners of my mouth.

“Peter,” I rasp, my throat sore from screaming earlier and vomiting now. “Peter, did you know about this? Did you know what your father had us watching over tonight?”

Peter only sobs harder. I don’t know whether that’s a confirmation or not.

Headlights flash over the scene; the sound of tires rolling over the cracked and pitted cement causes me to flinch.

“Shit, Peter, your dad?—”

“He’s going to kill us!” my best friend wails. “He’s back and now he’s going to murder us!”

My heart leaps up into my throat. I could say he won’t kill us.

Peter’s his son and I’m practically like a son to him.

He’s said so himself. But my eyes find that container and my certainty falters.

James Woodrow isn’t the man I thought he was.

Maybe he’s capable of much more than I could have ever imagined.

A black SUV, similar to the one Peter and I were sitting on the hood of just minutes ago before all hell broke loose, slowly creeps around the stacks of old, rusted metal containers. As fear grips my heart, so does a sudden resolve.

Tonight, I saw a new side of James Woodrow.

One I didn’t expect, couldn’t have fathomed he had, but now that I’ve seen it, I know it’s the real him.

I won’t, I can’t, reconcile that he is anything other than evil now.

And if there’s anything my parents taught me, it’s that you can’t allow evil to fester. You see something, you say something.

As the car comes to a stop and the back door opens, my clammy hands ball into fists at my side.

I went into this thinking the hardest thing I was going to have to do was to keep the feelings I have for my best friend’s little sister to myself. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I was going to have to face off with a literal monster.

As James takes in the scene before him, I steal one last steadying breath. Lifting my chin, I stare right at him then call out,

“I won’t let you get away with this.”