Chapter 32
Quinn
Lucas seemed so calm. In handcuffs and more relaxed than he’s been since he’s been home. I guess there’s relief in it all being over. No more secrets. No more dread over whether people will find out.
But what happens next has opened a new level of worry.
Everyone stands in my living room, watching me pace across the decrepit foyer. I look at my phone again.
It’s only been an hour since he was arrested and all the cops took their bright lights out of our neighborhood and back to the Falls. But it feels like it’s been a year. Why isn’t someone calling me? Tate, Juliet, Fallon, Jax, Jared, and Madoc are all at the station, I’m sure.
I refused to go back to the Falls like my brothers wanted. After the way they just treated Lucas and me, it felt important to stand my ground. But Madoc did make all their kids stay with me. Farrow, Mace, and Codi hang close too.
I wish they’d all go. They’re eyeing me like I’m a timebomb. I’m not dangerous.
But I can’t just wait here. I check my phone again. No texts. No calls.
I glance at the time, noting it’s after ten.
“Who the hell turned him in?” Dylan asks the room.
A few gazes shift to Farrow, to which he cocks an eyebrow. “It wasn’t me,” he blurts out.
Aro says, “You’re not as innocent as you would like them to think.”
He bares his teeth, speaking hard and slow. “It wasn’t me.” He rakes his hand through his blond hair. “Maybe Hugo thought he could cause one more stir on his way out. I don’t know…”
Someone tipped off the police, but it was more than that.
“They wouldn’t have taken him in handcuffs without evidence,” I point out. “They would’ve just questioned him here.”
The Doran brothers seem to always be one step ahead. Then, there’s Drew Reeves. I’m sure he still has a friend at the police station he can leak info to.
And how many people at Green Street know the stories? It could be anyone.
“What was in the locker?” Farrow asks the group.
“It was a little more than a locker,” Hunter tells him. “It was a storage unit.”
“And it’s for rehabilitating the town, not for you,” Aro bites out to Farrow.
He folds his arms across this chest. “I am this town, and I have more of a right to it than any of you.”
Aro is from Weston, but she no longer lives here. Neither do her siblings.
But she does have friends here, so she’s still invested.
“You can duke it out with Lucas.” Hawke taps away on his phone, refusing to look at Farrow. “There’s a reason the Doran brothers put it in his hands and not yours.”
I’d gotten enough from Lucas on the way home earlier. Manas left a note at the firehouse. Lucas still had it on him.
I’d spoken to Deacon, but now we know… They’re both alive, here, and continuing to keep tabs on what’s happening.
Just like her.
Whoever had Lucas arrested tonight wanted him out of the way. I need to be able to move fast if there’s danger.
“I want my Jeep,” I say. I need my own transportation.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Farrow offers, walking toward me. “Lucas said to stay close to you.”
Dylan picks up her crossbody purse. “We’re coming with you.”
“No.” I pick up my keys off the little table by the door. “I’ll be right back. Just stay here.”
Farrow won’t talk the whole time. I need to think right now.
Farrow swings the door open, letting it bang into my table as he stomps out before me. I follow, shutting the door behind me.
I climb into his truck, pulling my hair up into a ponytail as we drive off. I glance in my rearview mirror, knowing the Dodge is there before I even see it.
We coast down the hill, and I almost think no one’s inside because it doesn’t move from the curb.
But then…it pulls out, headlights still off as it follows us.
I don’t know if Farrow sees it, but I’m not going to tell him. It’s not following him.
Windows down, I lean my head back, feeling the breeze cool my scalp.
Farrow’s tires roll over the drainage vents, telling me we’re on the bridge, and I reach over and pick out a penny from the cup holder in Farrow’s truck. He watches me fling it out the window.
I’d blown it off several times since I moved to Weston, and I don’t believe that’s to blame for everything wrong right now, but it certainly hasn’t done me any good to ignore the tradition, so…
At most, it won’t even cost me four dollars a year.
I’ll grab some for my own supply when I close out the register tonight.
After about eight minutes of speeding, Farrow races past my Jeep sitting at the curb in front of the shop and turns down the side street.
“No!” I blurt out. “Park in the front.”
I don’t want him going into the alleyway.
He throws me a look.
“I have to come out that way anyway,” I explain.
That’s where my car is.
Plus, I don’t want him to see the broken back door. He’ll want to come inside, and I won’t be able to get into the hideout if I need.
Making a U-turn, he drives back to High Street and pulls in behind my Jeep. I unbuckle my belt.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell him, opening the door and jumping out.
“He said to stay with you!”
“The place is locked,” I lie, digging out my keys for the front door. “I’ll bring you a Monster cookie.”
“Three!” he barks.
I unlock the door and slip inside, quickly shielding myself behind the blinds as I watch the windows.
Ten seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Thirty…
The Dodge doesn’t appear, and I was too lost in my head to keep an eye on it on the way here. I’m not sure when we lost it, but I know it’s close. It always is.
My keys are in the kitchen, and I twist around to go grab them, but the mirror is open.
Again.
Dread coils my stomach, and I try to think. Did we leave it open?
We could have.
Or maybe Hawke came back?
But deep down, I know it’s not likely. I always close it because I don’t always enter the place alone. I wouldn’t want Hailey, Noel, or Codi to know it’s there.
And I seriously doubt Hawke would ever be that careless. He kept it a secret from me for years.
I should get Farrow, but I don’t want him to know about the hideout. I’m not ready to make that decision.
I could just leave, ignore it for now.
But Manas and Deacon have helped, and they’re the only other ones who have access. What if they can help Lucas?
Stepping toward the mirror, I peek inside the dark hallway, the end of it brightened to a dark gray by the faint light from the windows in the Great Room.
There are no sounds, and the smell remains the same. No one is smoking or cooking inside, that I can tell. If someone was here to hurt me, they could’ve just been waiting in the shop.
I take a step in and walk quietly down the hallway, the place seemingly empty.
My gaze lands on the island and my parents’ love story lays open. My heart skips a beat. The book was definitely not open when I left.
Approaching the counter, I see black writing scrawled on a page.
Maybe you had it the hardest.
To be worth the price that was paid.
I understand you now.
I grab the book and flip through the rest of it, looking for more writing.
But that’s it.
I study it again. …To be worth the price that was paid.
Is this meant for me?
I had it the hardest? Hardest out of whom?
Pulling my phone out of my bag, I snap a picture and text it to Dylan.
She’s read part of this book with me. She’ll recognize it.
Found this written inside, I write.
I look around while I wait for a reply. Nothing else is disturbed from what I can see.
Dylan texts back. We both know that writing.
I stare at it again, remembering Winslet’s diary that I passed on to Hawke.
Could it be her? I wasn’t used to her writing in full sentences, but yes, the strokes are similar.
My skin crawls, feeling like I’m being watched again, but to be honest, I feel like that all the time now. If it’s not Deacon Doran, it’s Lucas or my brothers.
I tap out a reply to her. Stay close to your phone.
I want to know who’s in the Dodge. If they’re a danger, they sure are patient. Could they have been protecting me, maybe?
If it’s one of the brothers—or her—they know Weston and Shelburne Falls. Maybe they’ve seen Drew Reeves too.
Carrying the book with me, I run out of Carnival Tower like someone is chasing me and close the mirror. Farrow has moved to the front of the shop, behind my Jeep, and I race to the kitchen, pulling open a drawer. Bypassing the big butcher knife, I grab a paring knife—small, pointy, efficient.
I double-check the back door is still tied shut, tuck the book under my arm, snatch up my car keys and three Monster cookies, and charge for the front of the shop again, exiting the front door.
Farrow watches me.
“I’ll meet you at home!” I call out.
He peers at me through the open passenger side window. “Lucas said to stay with you!”
I toss the little bags of cookies through his window. “I’ll be there.”
“Lucas said to stay with you,” he repeats.
I glance up and down the empty road. He’s not going to let me out of his sight. What will the Dodge do if I’m alone? I need to ditch Farrow.
After hesitating a moment, I wipe the sweat above my chin and nod. “Lead the way then,” I tell him.
And I walk away just as his lips part to speak, but I’m gone before he has a chance to argue. Climbing into my car, I start the engine and fasten my seatbelt.
Checking my mirrors, I see half-a-dozen cars parked along the curb around me, but none of them look suspicious. Lucas has been arrested, and this is all connected somehow. Whatever the Dodge is going to do, it’ll be tonight.
Signaling, I grip the wheel and wait for him to pull out behind me. He drives past, throwing me a look as he goes.
Yeah, he’s on to me.
Hitting the gas, I cruise behind him, driving up High Street, taking a right on Woodland, and a left on Fall Away Lane. The wind whips through the Jeep, making my hair fly, and I don’t even have to look in my rearview. I know the car is there.
I glance, recognizing the dark windows far behind me. The shape of the car seems different—the height of the vehicle and the position of the grill—but it’s too far behind me to see clearly.