Chapter 24 #2
“Perfect timing,” Ev says, tossing the final board into the pile—just steps away from where I devoured Meg yesterday, her screams muffled by the towel stuffed in her mouth.
The memory of her plush, tight pussy fluttering around my fingers while her thighs tensed, trapping me right where she needed me has been playing on a loop inside my mind.
I also haven’t forgotten what she told me.
What the lake and the A-frame mean to her.
It hints that she’s been starved for affection, for touch.
Maybe her mom’s gone, but the lake is still here.
So are the memories she shared with her family.
Coming here after her divorce must have felt like a reprieve. A place to heal.
Until I started a war.
Jeez. No wonder she hated me.
Everett works his way over the lattice of support beams and jumps down to the sand, snapping me back to the project. “You want to be in the water or on deck?”
“Deck,” I reply, forcing my brain to refocus.
We fall into an easy rhythm removing the boards I’ve already marked, the lake lapping the shore and the warm sun on my head and shoulders.
“Zach said Coach James’ retirement gig was first class.” He pushes up a rotten board out of the joists.
I lift it free and carry it to the pile. “Meg did a really great job.”
“I’m sorry I had to miss it.” He reverses a series of screws into his palm then drops them into a pouch on his tool belt. “She getting around okay now? ”
“Good enough to let me spin her around the dance floor.” He pushes the board up, and I carry it to the growing pile of discards.
“Is that so?”
I ignore the playful edge in his tone.
“What happened to being at each other’s throats?”
“She realized it was part of my irresistible charm.” Fuck, I need to apologize to her. If only I’d known…
Everett chuckles. “Or maybe she decided surrendering was the only way to get some peace.”
If anything, I’m the one surrendering.
“Russel cause any trouble?” he adds. “Zach said he got pretty drunk.”
I grunt at the memory. “He said some shit to Meg.”
His eyes stay steady and he cocks his head. To anyone else, it would look like he’s politely curious. But I know my brother and this is a special kind of tell. Does he know something about Russet that I don’t?
“At least now, they will only see each other at work,” I say.
"Is that where she is?” Everett nods at Meg’s dark and quiet house.
“Yep. Alaska.” I carry the next board to our pile. “How’s wedding planning coming along?” I ask to change the subject.
He launches into a detailed description of their plans, his tone joyful, excited. It brings back that same strange hollow feeling in my chest, like my heart is shriveling up.
“You got a date yet?” Ev teases, cocking his eyebrow at me.
I scoop some lake water onto my forearms to cool off. “Yeah, actually. Meg.”
Realization dawns on his face. “No shit?”
With a shrug, I reach into the cooler he brought and crack open a bottle of water.
“Let me get this straight,” he says, hands on his hips. “When did you stop hating her? ”
“I never hated her.” I toss him a bottle of water.
“Shit,” he says slowly, then cracks open the water. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“Shut up.”
His lips twitch with a knowing smirk.
I polish off the rest of my water, but when I tuck the empty bottle under Ev’s sweatshirt so it won’t blow away, there’s something else there—it’s a copy of yesterday’s Finn River Journal.
He follows my gaze, and for a moment, time slows.
“I don’t suppose you’ve started reading the paper?” he asks.
“Negative.”
“Annaleise Bell has been a pain in my ass for weeks. I can’t figure out where she’s getting her intel.
It’s certainly not me or our department, and I know it’s not you.
” He sips from his water, then wipes his mouth with the back of his wrist. “She had the nerve to try and rattle me at Glory Holes last week.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“She knows about Sons of Eden.”
Fuck. I lift my hat and comb back my hair before tugging it low on my brow.
“You want to talk while we work?” he says.
“Do I have a choice?”
His eyes are that same unyielding kindness that never ceases to disarm me.
I toe off my shoes and grab the drill. We work in silence measuring, cutting, and setting the new boards into place. Though we settle into a rhythm, the easy connection we shared from earlier is gone.
All these years, I’ve carried the truth so he didn’t have to face what happened to us. I swore to myself when we were small that as his big brother, I would always protect him. Even if it meant hiding things from him .
And now, all because Trina Guthrie had to stir up shit, it’s going to come out anyways?
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Ev carries over a cut plank and we drop it into place. “Does the name Otis Wakefield mean anything to you?”
I drive two new screws through the holes until the drill squeaks. “No.”
He gives me a steady glance, like he doesn’t see the turmoil tearing up my insides. “He took over Sons of Eden after we were rescued.”
“So?”
“I talked with a retired social worker who handled Trina’s case. His name came up.”
I don’t need to ask why.
“He also runs a road construction company out of Miller’s Ferry. It must be lucrative because he’s bought up several small businesses over the years. Plus built a private school and some kind of…community center…out in the boonies.” He puts air quotes around community center.
Miller’s Ferry is several hours north of Finn River, in Wallace County. It’s where Ev and I were born and lived until our parents joined Sons of Eden.
I want to ask, Why hasn’t anyone stopped them? but I know the answer. They’re too powerful. And their tactics work too well on those who will do anything to belong. To believe. People like Carey and Sarah Harding—our parents.
“How is he not in jail?” I rub the back of my neck, but it doesn’t stop the anger from flushing hot under my skin.
“According to the Wallace County sheriff I spoke to, Wakefield is just a simple guy expressing his religious freedom.”
“By taking advantage of children?”
“Unless someone comes forward against him, there’s nothing they can do. Based on some delicate digging, looks like Wakefield has built some allies in the criminal justice system.”
“Fuck.” Another reason why Sons of Eden hasn’t been dismantled. Not only are they experts at manipulation and control, their leaders have got the sheriff in their pocket. Maybe others, too.
If that’s true, then it’s a miracle Ev and I made it out. Or maybe bribery came later? After Otis Wakefield took charge.
Everett’s face tenses. “It gets worse. Otis’s son Jerome lives in Elk Flats. Already bought up some property.”
I set down the drill and brace against the cross plank, trying to ground myself in the lake waves lapping my shins and the crystalline sand grains grinding beneath my feet.
Elk Flats is only forty five minutes north, where Bear Lake curves to the east, like the hook of a sickle. It’s not a very big town. Maybe a few thousand people. It’s also on the border of Clearwater County and Finn River Sheriff Department’s jurisdiction.
“Lind,” Everett says behind me, his tone firm.
I huff a resigned sigh and turn around.
“That social services rep had some other things to share. Apparently, a labor and delivery nurse filed a report a few years ago. She noticed a pattern of underaged girls in labor, with no father, yet they all had the same address. Her report never went anywhere, and nobody can tell me why. I also can’t seem to track this nurse down. It’s like she’s vanished.”
I grit my teeth.
“Trina was forced to do awful things in that cult,” he says. “Things her parents willingly allowed, even encouraged.”
Leaning back against the post, I cross my arms. “Why is any of this related to how she died? I heard she was dealing. And it was no secret she was using.”
He wipes down his chin. “Because she tried to call you. A bunch of times. Right up until the night she died in that fire.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose but it doesn’t stop the surge of anger fizzling under my skin. “Shit.”
“What did she want? And don’t bullshit me about group therapy.”
Telling him I don’t know is on the tip of my tongue, but my brother will see right through me.
“Drop this, Ev. Nothing good will come of it.” I rub my sternum because fuck it hurts to think back to that party when Trina cornered me.
Gone was the good-time girl with the pocket full of pills.
She was angry, and that plan of hers was downright reckless.
Had focusing on it been an escape from the pain she’d never fully processed?
“I can’t and you know it,” Everett replies. “If she was trying to sell you coke, just say so.”
Frustration burns my eyes. “You think I’d hold back about something as stupid as that?”
“Then what?” he says in that same even, firm tone that makes me want to scream.
What I’m about to say will change everything. I hang my head. “She wanted my help going after Sons of Eden.”
He rubs down his chin. “And you turned her down?”
“Just like I did fifteen years ago.”
“What? You never said anything about it.”
“Why would I? I wasn’t planning to help her then and I haven’t changed my mind.”
There’s a wounded edge to his gaze, like he thinks me keeping this from him is a betrayal.
It makes me want to claw my eyes out. “I had a month-old baby, a brand-new career, a life . After all the mistakes I’d made, I was finally in a good place.
No way was I going to taint what I had with those old stories. My family deserved better.”
“Is that the only reason?” His brows knit together .
“It’s the most important.” I stare him down. “I had to leave it all in the past. Not just for me, but for you too.”
“I only remember you hiding me under that house.” His voice has lost its authoritative edge. “Then you were back and the firetrucks came. Then you told me to run.”
I beg him with my eyes to stop there. “It was our only chance to escape.”
He heaves a sigh, his gaze drifting to some distant point on the lake. “Trina was supposed to meet someone at that abandoned house the night she died.”
“Any idea who?” I’ll bet Stacy knows, and if anyone can find her, it’s Everett.
He doesn’t answer, but he’s likely already shared too much.
“Do you think Sons of Eden would retaliate if she tried to take action against them?” he finally asks.
Ice feathers my skin, like an arctic breeze. “Yeah, I think it’s possible.” Why else would our silence be so important?
“The M.E. discovered that Trina Guthrie was alive when that fire started,” he says with a grimace. “Which means she was murdered.”