Chapter 24
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
Ezra
The list of names taunts me.
Even days later I can’t help but glare at the list of men Berlyn thought may have been her stalkers. Still believes are possibilities.
“Told you it should have been our hit list,” Jude grumbles, walking by and immediately knowing what’s on my mind. West looks up from his phone and shakes his head at both of us.
I study the whiteboard in front of me. We’ve finally made it to Phase Three, though we did take a few options off the table after her reaction to the liver thing. The memory makes me grimace.
There were bound to be some missteps along the way. Not everything could go off perfectly. Yet other parts of our plans have gone even better than anticipated. Don’t I get credit for that?
Putting so much time and effort into our alibi for Richard’s murder turned out to be worth it twice over. Otherwise, I think the jig would already be up. It’s the one thing that held Berlyn back from considering us a possibility as her stalker.
It’s allowed us more freedom with leaving her notes and gifts this week. Letting the hints become more and more obvious until all arrows only point back to us. I don’t want her to accept that fact until we have her, but I want everything in her to be wondering.
Wanting for it to be us.
With each note we leave her, the wheels spin faster in her head. It’s the only answer that makes any sense, and yet she thinks it’s impossible. I never thought I would enjoy this part of the plan so much.
Watching her trying to figure us out. Decoding not only the hints but everything else. Her and Summer have truly been impressive with their theories and analysis. The different body types was a particularly good catch.
One I knew was a possibility, but even when I watched the footage back, it’s hard to be certain either way. Both of my brothers may be taller than me, but not by all that much. Not enough for it to be an easy thing to see on a camera.
As impressive as their deductions were though, there was more to their conversation than just that. More that is still nagging at me days later. It’s played in my mind over and over as I’ve looked back at all the time we’ve watched Berlyn.
Through college we’ve watched her interact with everyone on that little list of hers. Not as thoroughly as we watch now. It grew little by little as we were able to invade more and more of her life like a creeping vine growing and flourishing right under her nose.
Staring at the whiteboard I can’t help but wonder if we were so focused on Berlyn we missed the bigger picture?
It’s not the list itself, despite Jude’s jealousy that she’s had other men in her life. That’s not what’s bothering me.
It’s not even the shock of what Summer said about killing someone herself. Though I do need more information on that as well. Never would have thought she’d have had that in her.
What’s nagging at me more than anything since I heard Berlyn say it, was her assertion that it couldn’t be her father.
Why would Sheriff Matthews even be someone to consider?
Unless we’ve missed more than an obsessed professor.
For as obsessed as we have been with Berlyn, we seem to be missing a lot of pieces. It’s more than a desire to change that, but a compulsive need. To know everything. Not only about her present, but her past. We’ve focused too much on the here and now. On the future and how to make her ours.
“Staring at the whiteboard isn’t going to make those names disappear,” Jude jokes. “But I could.”
West throws something at him, but I don’t even bother looking to see what it was that made the loud thwacking sound. Whatever it was, hit Jude hard enough to make him curse.
The two of them have been at each other’s throats since West punched him after the whole liver incident. Especially when Berlyn started avoiding us all. Though the two can’t possibly be connected. Other than she was not thrilled we learned about the stalker situation.
“You can’t be mad at me forever,” Jude yells after West as he walks out of the room, but not only do his steps never falter, he flips him off over his shoulder.
Jude gives me a stricken expression and I chuckle. “How was I supposed to know she didn’t want an organ as a souvenir? I thought it was sweet,” he pouts, but I wave him off.
“You’ve been antagonizing him just as much,” I remind him, making his pout quickly morph into a smirk.
“It’s cute when he gets all grumpy.”
I roll my eyes. “And it was hot when he punched you.”
Jude’s teeth sink into his lower lip. “It kinda was, wasn’t it?” Fucking idiot.
My phone vibrates in my hand, drawing my attention away from him. When I see West’s uncle’s name I sigh in relief. Finally.
“Hey,” I answer, greeting him.
His tone is gruff as he responds. “Sorry, kid. Been busy.” No more explanation than necessary. It would make me bristle if it were anyone else, but he’s always been this way. Ever since he took us in. As if it costs him something to speak. I’ve always wondered if it ran in their blood?
I clear my throat when Jude gives me a questioning look. I hadn’t gotten around to telling them about my suspicions. There have been a few things over the years that stood out about Berlyn. Moments that made us pause and wonder, but she always bounced back so seamlessly.
We saw the life she had in college and assumed she was safe.
Thought everyone had nightmares and didn’t question enough what was haunting her.
Lord knows, we all have them. It seemed like par for the course.
But we should have pushed further, looked deeper into her past. It’s not too late to fix that mistake.
“Are you home?” I ask, dropping Jude’s questioning gaze. I’ll share when I have something to share.
Cole grunts his affirmative and I continue, “Could you look into Sheriff Matthews for me?”
The line goes quiet for a moment and I catch Jude’s flinch from the corner of my eye. I turn my back on him but the sound of his footsteps getting further away is a sure sign he’s going to grab West for backup.
At least they’ll finally be talking again?
“This about your girl?” Cole asks after a tense beat.
I freeze, shock making me stutter. “What?” We’ve never shared anything about Berlyn with West’s uncle. There’s never been a reason to.
His deep chuckle is even more shocking. “Come on, kid,” he says wryly. “How oblivious do you think I am?”
Apparently more than he actually is. It’s not like he’s ever taken that much of an interest in our lives. He wanted us to finish high school. Stay out of jail. And not end up on the streets.
That’s pretty much where his parenting ended, if you could even call it that.
“You idiots even bought the house she lives in,” he says and I’m utterly speechless. He’s been paying far closer attention than I ever would have thought. “Hard not to notice you stalking the girl for the last what? Three, four years?”
“Oh.” It’s the only thing I can think of to say. I’m at a loss for words. I shake my head, trying to wrap my head around the fact he cared enough to pay attention. “Yeah, her. Berlyn.”
“Tell me what’s going on,” he presses. Am I imagining the thread of amusement in his brusque tone? This feels a bit like the twilight zone, like my feet are unsteady beneath me.
This isn’t the time for this. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But I have a gut feeling there’s something there. She has these nightmares,” I continue to explain, debating how much to share. “She made a comment about her dad,” I say vaguely. “I just think there’s something there we should know.”
He grunts again and I think that’ll be it but then he asks, “Have you tried asking her?”
What the fuck is happening right now?
“Right,” he says dryly, not giving me a chance to respond. “You’d have to actually talk to her for that to happen.”
My lips twitch and a laugh eddies out of me despite myself. “Since when do you have jokes? And for the record, we have talked to her.”
Is he high? I genuinely have no idea what else could possibly be happening.
“Can’t a man be happy his nephews are finally coming to him for romantic advice?” he challenges and I‘m starting to miss the usual clip of our conversations.
“That is not what’s happening,” I argue. We’ve got the romance part locked down. Mostly. Minor incidents aside. We’re mostly killing this whole sweeping her off her feet thing.
He chuckles again and it’s such an odd sound. “Sure thing, kid. I’ll look into her old man,” he promises. “Anything else?”
The amusement in his tone fades out, falling back into our normal rhythm. “She’s got a friend,” I add, “Summer Woods. Could you take a look at her past?”
“Something specific?”
“Yeah.” I rub my hand over my jaw. I can feel the presence of my brothers at my back before I even turn around. There will be no getting out of this conversation now. “She said she killed someone,” I explain, turning to face my brothers.
Cole’s low whistle is nothing compared to West’s wide eyes and whatever sound that comes out of Jude. Something between a snort, cough, and scoff. They’re probably really regretting not listening in on Berlyn’s conversation with Summer a few days ago.
Even I had only been listening half-heartedly while I was working.
At first. Then it got interesting. I could have called them in, but it wasn’t like the girls went into the entire history of it all.
It was just little comments that were most definitely not the whole story.
I don’t even know who she killed. Though if I had to guess, it was likely in self-defense. Someone who more than deserved it.
“I just need to know if that’s something that’s going to come back and haunt us,” I tell Cole. Summer is Berlyn’s best friend. Anything that hurts her, hurts our girl.
“I’m on it, kid,” he promises and hangs up without another word. At least that feels more like him.
Jude picks his jaw off the ground, exchanging looks with West. “I don’t even know where to start.” They both glare at me but Jude is shaking his head, hand on his chest like I’ve truly disappointed him.
I roll my eyes at his antics. “I called Cole right after I had my suspicions,” I defend.
“Suspicions of what exactly?” Jude demands, the playful side of him nowhere to be found now.
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. “I don’t know,” I repeat. “Something.”
“Something bad,” West says. Not a question. I nod sadly and he looks as if I’ve physically struck him.
“Her nightmares,” I explain, “the disassociating after what happened with Richards. We’ve never really seen her with her father.
He never visits her here. She hardly goes home if she can avoid it.
They never text or call each other. Yet back at home, it was like he never allowed her out of his control.
” I let the thought trail off leaving the implications hanging in the air between us.
My brothers share the turmoil that’s been brewing in me for days. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Jude asks again, sadder this time. The anger having fled in the face of our greatest failure.
“Because I didn’t know,” I repeat, willing him to understand. How can I share what I have no answers to?
His shoulders slump and West looks out the window, a million thoughts racing across his face. “And Summer?” Jude asks with a heavy sigh.
“You already heard everything I know,” I say with a shrug. “She killed someone and says she doesn’t regret it. She also convinced Berlyn that killing Richards was basically community service.”
That at least gets a chuckle out of Jude before he sobers once more. “What are we going to do with this information?”
At least this question is easy enough to answer. It’s what we’ve been for the last four years.
“Use it to protect her.”
Nothing changes. We’re just looking at the bigger picture now. Eliminating more potential threats. Weston nods his agreement.
“Berlyn?” he asks and I can’t help but chuckle.
Her and Summer are currently back at it with the latest note we left her last night. She’s no longer even questioning this thing or doubting it. She’s fully thrown herself into the game.
She’s aware of the cameras, but she went against my prediction and never tried to find them. We had already removed any ones that would have made her question us. The ones in the vents or anywhere Jude had access to when he fixed her AC, but she never even looked.
Maybe tonight we should change the note from giving her hints, to giving her instructions. Would she be a good girl for us? Touch herself while she knows we’re watching?
“She’s been completely fine,” I reassure him. “We’re the ones late to the party.”
The tension in his shoulders eases, and he pulls out his phone, no doubt to text her. They’ve been texting pretty much all day, every day this week. I’d be jealous, but it’s been nice to see more of West’s smile.
“Where are her and Summer with the note?” Jude asks.
“Nothing new,” I answer with a grin. It’s been entertaining to watch Summer so staunchly believe we have to be the stalkers while Berlyn keeps circling back to it not logically making sense. “But I have a new idea for the next note.”