Chapter 50
Kinsley
Chapter Fifty
My eyes widened at the blood on my white Converse. There was so much of it I felt the sickness coming up in my throat. Samantha was standing in front of me with the gun still raised in her hands, but it wasn’t her who fired the shot. It was one of the chief’s men, who were now coming out from between the trees, hurrying our way.
I turned toward Thomas, who was standing with his eyes wide while blood poured down his neck. Ethan howled in pain and put a hand over his bloodied shoulder. Thomas kicked the gun away from him while one of the chief’s officers kneeled next to him and clicked a handcuff around his wrists. She pulled Ethan up, who cursed, and she nodded at the chief, before exchanging a look with Thomas. Officer Maeve Diaz, her tag read, and I remembered Thomas mentioning her. She turned and walked away, pulling Ethan with her, and a few officers followed.
I looked down at the pool of blood where Ethan was shot moments ago and then lifted my eyes to Samantha’s frightened expression right before a loud rumbling sound filled the stillness of the forest. I raised my eyes and saw fireworks in every color of the rainbow lighting up the sky above the canopy of trees.
I looked back at Thomas, who had his attention on me now, and I had no idea if it was because of the shock or the relief, but I jumped into his arms, and he pulled me tight against his chest. His scent consumed me, and I closed my eyes, clinging to him harder. Everything seemed so fucked up right now.
“You are so dumb,” I said into the nape of his neck, my heart racing. “You could have died.” I pinched him, and he let out a long, warm breath into my hair.
“Never underestimate me, Sage,” he whispered, and I pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and he shook his head.
“Don’t.” His voice was gentle, and I pressed my lips into a thin line, not knowing what else to say.
“Do you think they will take us in?” Braxton asked, calling us away from the scene to where he was standing with Connor, who seemed distant.
I stepped around Thomas and put an arm around my friend. He stiffened before easing against me, resting his head on mine.
“Not today.” Thomas shook his head and glanced back to where Samantha, Kevin, and Aaliyah were talking to the chief.
“Good, because I might need a good lawyer then, and you need to have a shower before that.” Braxton grimaced, trying to ease the mood, and Thomas…he started laughing. Braxton’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. Does anyone else hear him laughing?” he asked, and at that, we all burst out. It might have been our defense mechanisms kicking in against the shock of what happened, but we just stood there laughing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by police lights and fireworks and blood. A lot of blood.
“I did that.” Braxton grinned. “See, I told you, everyone needs a funny sidekick,” he added, putting an arm around my and Connor’s neck.
“You did.” I chuckled, and even Thomas smiled.
“Is this finally enough reason to be added to that VIP handshake?”
Connor and I shared a look in front of Braxton’s chest. We had already agreed to teach him, but things had gotten messy since then.
“I think it is.” Connor smiled, and Braxton’s grin widened.
“Next time I will have a pen and paper with me,” he joked as Thomas stepped closer.
“Let’s go home.” He gently pulled me out from under Braxton’s arm. “I need a shower.”
I nodded, because we both did.
“Wait.” I heard a girl’s voice as Samantha caught up to us. She was squeezing her inhaler in her hand, her cheeks flushed, her eyes red, but she straightened her spine, her auburn hair billowing around her. “I—could you show me what flower you meant?” she asked Thomas, holding her phone out for him to take.
He did after a moment of hesitation, and we all leaned closer to the screen, curious. It was a picture of the gazebo’s flower bed with plenty of different kinds of flowers in it. Thomas scanned the picture, zooming in from time to time before he stopped on a purple one.
“This,” he breathed. “I saw this one.” He handed the phone back to Samantha, who took a good look at it.
“Hyacinth.” She exhaled. “I thought so.” She chewed on her swollen bottom lip. “It was my mother’s favorite. It’s the flower of sorrow.”
Of course, it was. It all made sense now; it was Heather’s real name, after all.