22. Summer
I’d never driven so fastin my life.
Heart racing, my fingers jerking the steering wheel with each turn.
Until finally, I was racing through the already open gate of Darkmoor Manor.
Red and orange flames climbed the walls of my house. Black smoke poured through the roof.
I barreled down the driveway.
Two fire trucks, a police car, and an ambulance sat in the drive.
The fire truck’s lights flashed, the loud siren still blazing.
Leaving the engine running, I stumbled out of my car, yelling, “Hey! Hey!”
The group of people turned towards me. Men and women in uniform. Standing there. Doing absolutely nothing.
”What are you doing!” I screamed.
How could they just stand there, watching? What if someone had been inside?
Thank god Benson was out of town.
”What are you doing?” Panicked, I ran up to the group, ”Do something!”
They gave me uneasy looks then stepped backwards and away from me. What the hell was going on? I scanned the truck, trying to figure out how to do it on my own. If they weren”t going to do something, I was. My whole world was burning down before my eyes—my only way out of this mess.
Angry, my heart pounding like mad, I pushed through the group. They fell apart before me, revealing a lone man.
Dressed in a crisp grey suit, he clearly wasn”t fire or EMT. He stared at my home with his hands in his pockets, a small smile at his lips.
I ran at him in a rage. Who the fuck was he? “What are you doing?!” I faced him down, barely holding back from pummeling him. ”Get out of the way.” Clearly, he was the reason why they weren”t doing anything.
At my approach, he turned towards me, rubbing a thumb across his lip amusedly. On his left ring finger was a gold ring, with the OG insignia. His voice was droll but amused. “I would”ve thought you”d learned your lesson by now, Miss Duvall.”
”What the hell?” Smoke was filling my nose, the roar of the flames loud in my ears. From here, I could see that the fire was raging in the study.
All my dad”s books.
My mom”s stuff.
Family pictures.
The comforts of dead parents, turning to ash.
The man stepped closer, his light gray eyes cold and unmoving. ”Do as the Magnolia says, or else...” He left the rest of the sentence unsaid.
Heart raging, I wanted to scream. How could they do this? How could they?
”Do you understand, Miss Duvall?”
Clenching my fingers into fists, I held back my rage, and nodded, my voice shaking, ”Yes.”
“Good.” He seemed pleased. Then, after a final glance at me, he nodded towards the group of people.
They immediately jumped into action, unrolling the hose and hooking it to the fire hydrant.
As a spray of water finally hit the house, two paramedics surrounded me. One of them, a girl, approached me with a concerned look. ”Miss. Are you okay?”
I was still staring at the man in the gray suit, all my emotions tumbling through me. My face snapped to her.
”Okay?” I asked, incredulous. ”Am I okay?”
At the vitriol in my voice, she stepped back, and glanced towards the house, ”Is there anyone inside?”
”You should know that already. Shouldn’t you?” I was screaming, feeling completely out of control.
I had no power in this world. I was helpless to do anything.
She nodded, stepping back. “I understand.”
I could only stare at my house, rage and sadness overflowing. All of the memories of my mom. Dad. Everything! Up in flames.
Rook was right.
He was right and I was an idiot.
A naive, stupid fucking bunny, just like he said.
As soon as he”d warned me, I should”ve run. As fast and as far as possible, taking Callie with me.
He”d been right, this whole time.
But now..now it was too late. The weight of Saul”s phone was heavy in my pocket.
I was completely indebted to them now.
I stood there, tears streaming down my face. Flames eating through everything. Gray and black smoke billowing upward as the water began to suffocate the flames.
The gray man moved, his arm extending outward as he snapped a picture of the house. Then he turned towards me, staring straight into my eyes as he snapped one of me, capturing one of the most devastating moments of my life.
A satisfied smile crawled up his face.
My rage boiled over. I couldn”t stop myself.
He turned to leave and I raced forward. Leaping, I bowled into him like a linebacker. He fell to the ground with a grunt of surprise.
I landed on top of him, and got in several hits before someone was dragging me off.
”Let me go!” I screamed. “Let me go!”
But hands only clasped tighter around my waist. Holding me back. I fought and screamed and struggled.
The man stood, his fancy gray suit now wrinkled. His white shirt, stained with dirt. His tie and hair askew.
At the dark look he threw me, I pulled free and ran at him again.
This time, I was tackled to the ground. Strong arms held me down. I fought against them uselessly.
It wasn”t fair!
They should be arresting this guy, not holding me down!
”Summer.” The woman from before squat down to look into my eyes. ”Summer. Calm down, or things will get worse.”
Somehow through my rage, I could tell that she wasn”t threatening me. She was trying to help me.
That look of concern again.
”Mwarghhhhh!” I screamed. I pounded the ground, unable to do anything else. Chest heaving, I cried and cried out my rage. Wet tears soaking the ground—the ground where people I loved had stood.
The land where my parents were buried.
My legacy of nothing.
I cried and pounded until, finally, everything flowed out of me. All the hate and anger.
Any ounce of energy.
Gone.
There was nothing left but an empty helplessness.
Finally gasping, I mumbled into the ground, my voice a croak. “Let me up.”
Immediately the weight on me was gone. I peered upwards; the gray man was gone, along with his car.
I scrambled to a sitting position, twisting to look at the house. The west wing was completely gone—the study, parts of the foyer, the dining hall…
A big, black, wet hole.
I wiped away the tears that were still falling, watching.
I”d gotten the message.
Do what the Magnolia wanted, or they would destroy everything I loved.