Chapter 46
FORTY-SIX
SUMMER
Idon’t understand.
Val would have told me about this brother, we shared everything… But maybe we didn’t.
I mean, I knew she took medicine for her anxiety and depression, but there were no signs of anything more than that.
Why would she completely omit the existence of another brother? And why the hell is he after me?
My mind is reeling. I can’t focus as Hartley continues to glance my way.
“Summer,” she says, and when I turn her way, the look of concern she gives me feels genuine, if not a little too personal. “I’m afraid that might not be the worst part.”
Oh God, what could be worse than finding out Val lied to me about a brother who may or may not be homicidal, who followed me to a summer camp only to terrorize me?
“He may be incredibly unstable, and there is a high likelihood he’s killed Finn.”
This can’t be real. It has to be a dream, a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Turning to look at Indy, I can tell she’s thinking the same thing. Her phone’s in her hands and she’s typing furiously.
“What if you can’t find him?” She asks, looking up at me. Her face is blanched, eyes wide.
“We’ll find him,” Hartley says, her fingers tightening on the wheel. Whipping the car into Indy’s drive, she parks alongside two other cruisers and gets out. Approaching Mr. and Mrs. Turner, she holds out her hand and asks if they’ve been informed.
When they nod, the two of them rush to where Indy and I are standing. Wrapping their arms around us, they hold us tight, and for the first time in a long time I feel like this is where I was meant to be all along.
Hartley’s radio crackles and then there’s a voice coming through. We all get quiet to listen, but I don’t understand the codes they use. Indy offers me a confused look, and I return it. I’m not sure what they’re saying.
When Hartley turns around, she shakes her head and Indy’s eyes well up.
“He’s gone.”
“Looks that way, but I’ve got all the backup I can get comin’ here right now. We’ll find him, I promise.”
I don’t think officers are supposed to make that kind of promise, something they can never take back.
“What should we do?” Mr. Turner asks, “We know this ranch inside and out, we can help.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Turner, but right now, I think it’d be best for everyone to wait for me and my team in your home. Have everyone meet you here, that way it’ll be easier to protect everyone.”
He nods and ushers us inside, instructing Indy to send a message to everyone else to meet at the main house. It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before everyone is here, and we’re told not to leave by the officers stationed at the front and back doors.
I can’t be locked in here, but I heard what the sheriff said, and Indy’s latched on to me. We’re sitting on the couch, her leg bounces with every little sound, and everyone’s sporting worried looks.
Santi and Kiri are whispering in the corner. Santi’s usually cheerful demeanor is mostly somber and it breaks my heart to see. Kiri rubs his back as he leans his head on her shoulder and when our eyes meet she gives me a wink. That girl could scare a bull and not bat an eye.
River’s on the opposite side of the room, sitting cross-legged on the floor with Zaye who’s chewing on her nails.
Mr. and Mrs. Turner are in the kitchen with the Harris’s.
Jare’s at his brother’s place for a long weekend, but Indy’s phone’s been going off every other minute, so I can only imagine how long it’ll take for Lucy to show up.
They talk every day, and I think it’s sweet how close they are. It’s not common for people who meet that young to stay so close for so long.
“I’ve got some grilled cheeses on the stove, come get y’all a plate,” Mrs. Turner says, turning around as if we aren’t waiting for the police to arrest a possible murderer and psychopath.
Indy stands, following her mama, and I do the same, encouraging the others to get up as well. We might as well eat, who knows how long this is going to take? Grabbing a paper plate from Mrs. Turner with a freshly toasted grilled cheese, she offers chips and tea to go along with it.
“Thank you, both,” she whispers as Indy and I go through, “I’m not sure anyone knows what to do right now, but there’s no sense in starvin’ and I have a feelin’ those kids wouldn’t have moved if not for you two. You’re both such natural leaders. I’m so proud.”
Indy nods and pecks her Mama’s cheek, “We’ll get through this, Mama.”
And we will, come hell or high water, we will.
After a while Indy had us all playing games, and now it’s well past dinnertime and we’ve moved on to charades. It’s kind of like a sleepover with friends, I’ve almost forgotten why we’re here a few times.
Almost.
River’s a competitive person. Santi’s back to cracking jokes while Zaye mimes whatever her little slip of paper says, as River shouts out what they think it could be. “Come on, Zaye! Gimmie somethin’.”
I’ve been laughing so hard, I’m about to pee myself and my stomach muscles are sore. Tapping Indy’s leg, I wink and nod my head toward the bathroom. She smiles and nods before turning back to watch the new couple in action.
Washing my hands, I step out and hear all the laughter from the living room. But I need some air, surely I can just sit on the back porch for a minute.
Quietly opening the back door I step out onto the wooden boards of the porch. Mrs. Turner’s got a bunch of plants back here, herbs she uses in her cooking, ferns for decorating, and lemongrass to keep the bugs away. Each of them are well loved and bright with health.
Even with the officer out here, I don’t feel safe. So I head inside instead and quietly make my way up the stairs. I need some time alone, just a few minutes to really wrap my head around this whole mess.
Walking into Indy’s space, I inhale the smell of her, how sweet it is, and drag out my sketchbook. Using my hands helps calm the jitters of helplessness. I allow my hand that holds the pencil to lead, as my mind clouds with all of the things I thought I knew.
Taking shape is the house I shared with Val, it doesn’t help, and I rip the page out, crumple it up, and throw it down onto the floor. Tears flood my eyes and my throat clogs. I can’t understand why Val wouldn’t tell me about this brother, or why he would want to hurt me and the Turners.
It’s frustrating and I’m so tired of running. I don’t want to run anymore, I’m going to stay. My head falls into my hands, heels digging into my eyes to stop the tears as I let out a growl of frustration before I hear a soft humming sound.
I stop and sit up abruptly, trying to listen more closely, but it’s gone. Maybe I am going insane…
I start sketching again, and hear the humming once more. It’s soft, something I vaguely recognize and it triggers memories to replay in my mind.
Val and I together, dancing to the song that would have been our first dance as a married couple. Val was obsessed with that song.
My blood runs cold, my skin pebbles and my stomach leaps up into my throat. Eyeing the room, I stand, walking to the door slowly. There’s someone in here, and my whole body signals alarm bells.
The closet doors burst open, and Kyle–Vincent–rushes out brandishing a weapon I can’t decipher before he’s tackling me to the ground. Still humming the song, he straddles my body and my lungs can’t expand. I can’t yell, but I sure as hell won’t let him hurt anyone down stairs.
Using my leg and arm as leverage, I flip us, so he falls over and knocks his head on the edge of Indy’s bed. Her room’s not large, and there’s very little space between the bed and the door. He growls as I roll the opposite way, getting to my feet, and opening the door to yell, “Call Hartley!”
Vincent rushes me again, slamming his palm to the door, slamming it shut, and locking it. This time I dodge his effort and land a punch to his face, watching in satisfaction as blood pours from his nose, but he continues as if it doesn’t hurt. Slashing at me as we dance around each other.
Blood drips from his chin when he looks at me, waving around the hooked hoof knife I just recently learned to use. “You took her from me!” He yells, throwing himself at me again.
Sharp pain explodes in my leg, but I don’t look down. Instead, I shove him into the closet doors, which crack and break under his weight. He’s not terribly bulky, but he is solid, that’s for sure. If they didn’t hear me earlier, they can’t miss that.
Scrambling up, he roars, and comes at me again.
I’ve picked a few things up over the years, and defending myself is the one that stuck.
Jabbing my fist into his throat, he coughs and sputters, lashing out with his hands.
His nails catch my neck and drag a hot path down before I knock his hands away and deliver a hit to his side.
Shifting my weight, I hold my fists up, ready for him to come at me again. If I can keep him busy, surely someone can get here before he can escape. His focus is solely on me, eyes wild and burning with hatred.
Rushing me, he tries wrapping his arms around my legs and lifting me off the ground.
Using my good leg, I knee his face and he crumples to the floor covering his nose.
I heard a crunch, an ungodly noise that makes bile crawl up my throat and then he’s up, shoving my chest and I stagger back, my hand trying to find purchase to keep standing.
I have to think because I can’t keep fighting him, he’s manic, and too strong.
I’ll lose.
“Fuck,” I cry as an idea comes to me the second I feel the window at my back.
Tears pool in my eyes, and when Kyle–Vincent–rushes me again, I take a big step to the side.
I watch in slow motion as he goes right through the window, shattering the glass onto the awning of the porch below.
There’s a loud bang as his body makes contact with the roof, and he howls when he rolls off and lands in the bushes that surround the whole house.
Cops swarm in, all of them have weapons drawn, and my whole body sags against the small table against the window.