Chapter Thirty-Eight
Brantley stood on his uncle’s front porch, beer in hand, watching as a dozen or so kids chased each other through the front yard.
When Travis had called him and insisted that he come to Sunday dinner at Curtis and Lorrie’s, he hadn’t been able to refuse. Then again, half the town hadn’t refused either because they were there, celebrating Kylie’s homecoming.
Granted, it wasn’t all rainbows and roses.
It was obvious that Kylie was doing her best to acclimate.
It had to be difficult after being gone for so long, held captive, not knowing what the next day would bring.
And the same went for the family who had mourned her death and spent nearly two years trying to make peace with it.
He’d watched the kids, wondering how they were adapting.
Kate seemed to be dealing with it better than the rest, but she wasn’t leaving her mother’s side.
Kade and Avery appeared hesitant, but hopeful, maybe?
The same didn’t appear to be the case for Haden and Maddox, who had been two and one, respectively, when their mother disappeared from their lives.
They were far more interested in laughing and playing with their cousins.
It would take time, but the family dynamic was strong. Brantley knew they could overcome just about anything.
He continued to check on Kylie, watching her from a distance. There were moments when she looked lost, almost sad. Others, when he could practically feel the relief coming from her. He hoped to learn what happened to her, but that was a story for another day.
A hard hand smacked him on the shoulder. “How’s married life treatin’ ya?”
Turning, Brantley grinned at his cousin Kaleb. “Can’t complain. You?”
Kaleb’s gaze sought out his wife, who was sitting in a lawn chair beside Kylie. “Marryin’ that girl was the best thing I ever did. She gave me all those heathens.” He nodded in the direction of the kids chasing each other around the Halloween decorations that were being put up.
“And you’ve got your hands full, huh?”
“More than. But it’s worth it.” Kaleb’s expression turned serious. “I wanted to thank you.”
“For?”
“For bringin’ her home. Travis told us what you did. How you were determined to find out the truth.”
“That’s what we do for family, right?”
“You made this family whole again.”
“I didn’t do it alone. My team deserves the credit for this one.”
“Yeah, well. They’ve got damn good leaders. Speakin’ of… Where’s your better half?”
“He got wrangled into helpin’ with the decorations.” Brantley turned to look out at the yard once again. “Who’s responsible for all those damn skeletons?”
“That’d be Ethan’s doing. He thought it would be funny to create a zombie army usin’ skeletons. Every year, he adds to the collection.”
There had to be at least thirty of them, some full-size, others miniature. Most of them had been modified so they were funny rather than scary. At the moment, Ethan was tying one—wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey—to a post on the house, arranging it so that it looked like it was climbing.
The front door opened behind him. A second later, boots thudded on the wooden porch. A firm hand gripped his shoulder, causing him to look over.
“That’s my cue to check on my wife,” Kaleb said. “Talk to you later.”
Brantley nodded before turning his attention to Travis.
“Thanks for comin’,” the man said, stepping up to the railing beside him.
“Thanks for invitin’ us. My parents still inside talkin’ to your mom?”
“Oh, yeah. Iris and my mother are plannin’ the next family reunion.”
Brantley frowned. “Didn’t we just have one of those?”
“Six years ago.”
Damn. It had been that long? He hadn’t been able to attend, but he’d gotten an earful from his mother. Apparently, his cousin Jared had done a damn fine job of putting it together.
“Well, as long as I’m not in charge, I’m sure I’ll be there.”
Travis rested his boot on the bottom porch rail. “I heard about Kieran’s partner. What they did to her.”
It was brutal and vicious. So much so, Brantley wanted to end those bastards simply so they couldn’t do it again. And he wanted to make it painful.
“What happens next?” Travis asked, his voice low.
“We’re goin’ after them,” he said simply. “I’m gonna get RT and Z to help. These people are ruthless, and while my team is brilliant, they haven’t gone up against anything like this. I’m not takin’ any chances.”
“Let me know what I can do. I’ll stay outta your way,” he tacked on quickly. “But I can do what needs to be done. Just say the word.”
“You need to focus on your family right now, Trav.”
His gaze swung out to where Kylie was sitting. “Trust me, I am. It took my daughter remindin’ me that we can’t give up, can’t stop hoping for somethin’ better. That was when my hope returned. And then my wife did.”
They stood like that for a few minutes until Curtis came out to round everyone up for dessert. Travis took the lead, wrangling everyone toward the house. The kids barreled inside, leaving the adults trailing after them.
Brantley was standing back, watching the excitement, when Reese joined him.
“That’s a lotta kids, huh?” Reese drawled.
“Oh, yeah. A lot.”
“I don’t know how they—” His words cut off as the sound of tires on gravel announced the arrival of someone else.
Brantley turned, watching the SUV pull down the driveway, inching slowly closer. Through the windshield, he saw two familiar faces.
“What are they doin’ here?” Reese asked.
“No idea.”
“Were they invited?”
Brantley shrugged. “Not that I know of. Go get Travis.”
While Reese went in to get his cousin, Brantley started down the porch steps toward the driveway. He intercepted Meredith and Decker before they could get too close to the house.
“What are y’all doin’ here?” he asked, keeping his voice smooth and even.
Meredith looked at Decker.
A commotion sounded behind him, causing him to look back. Travis, Gage, and Braydon had barreled out of the house and were walking toward them at a fast clip.
“You can’t be here,” Travis bellowed. “Not today.”
“We aren’t here to cause problems,” Decker said. “I swear it.”
“Then you need to go before my wife sees you.”
The screen door on the side of the house slammed.
Too late.
Jessie and Kylie were coming toward them, their father, Joe, not far behind.
“Why are you here?” Braydon asked, sounding as though he was ready to strangle the woman.
Meredith was staring at her daughters, her eyes wide, chin trembling. It was clear she hadn’t expected to see them.
“We need your help,” Decker said, glaring at Brantley.
“With?”
Decker stepped forward, ignoring Meredith’s tears as she continued to look at Jessie and Kylie.
“Cicily Rose,” he said simply.
The name was familiar, but it took a second for Brantley to place it. That was the name on the back of the photograph Atticus had found in Decker’s trailer.
“What about her?”
Meredith turned to look at him. “He’s got her.”
Brantley frowned. “Who’s got her?”
Decker swallowed hard. “Martin Calloway.”
Meredith moved closer to Decker. He took a step to the side, as though he didn’t want her too close.
“Who is she?” Travis asked.
It seemed difficult for Decker to form words, but he took a deep breath and finally said. “She’s my daughter—”
“Our daughter,” Meredith corrected.
“—and that bastard took her.”
“You have to find her,” Meredith pleaded.
For the first time since Brantley met Decker Bromwell, he saw something other than arrogance or indifference. He saw absolute terror.
“How long has he had her?” Reese asked.
“A week and a half.”
Brantley frowned. “And you’re just tellin’ us now?”
“He threatened to kill her if we didn’t back off.”
Confused, Brantley looked at Reese. This was the first they were hearing about it?
Reese shrugged, clearly out of the loop as well.
“Will you find her?” Meredith asked.
“Of course they will,” Kylie said, stepping forward.
Brantley glanced over at her.
“That would make her their sister,” Reese noted softly.
Yeah. It would.
“Please, Brantley,” Kylie pleaded, the fear in her eyes real.
He nodded, then looked at Decker. “Yeah. We’ll help.”
Time to call in the team for another round of finders keepers.
Atticus lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room had grown dark with the setting sun, but he hadn’t bothered to turn on a lamp. He didn’t care. This was the extent of his plans for the evening. To lie there, wide awake, staring into the darkness.
As long as he kept his eyes open, he didn’t see that mangled body in the field.
He’d spent the past few days trying to force that image from his brain, to no avail. He had worked, compiling notes and details on what happened. He had chilled, watching TV in the main room at the B and B. The only thing he hadn’t done was sleep. When he tried, the nightmares came.
He had no idea how long it would take for him to stop seeing that, but he hoped it was soon. He was exhausted.
A thump sounded from the room next door. He knew that was Archer moving around. Every now and then, another thump would sound, but then it would be quiet.
More than once, he had considered going over there, knocking on the door, and asking Archer to replace that mental image with something else, something salacious.
The only thing that kept him from doing so was the principle of the matter.
He had told Archer that they couldn’t act on the attraction.
They were partners, and because of that, they couldn’t cross that line.
Atticus wanted to cross that line. Hell, he wanted to decimate that line.
That wouldn’t be fair to Archer.
But would it really be so wrong? Just one night. The two of them.
Before he knew what he was doing, Atticus was sitting up. Then he was standing. A few seconds later, he was opening the door and stepping out into the hall.
One night. It would curb the craving and eliminate that horrific image.
He pulled his door closed behind him, committed.
Taking a deep breath, Atticus squared his shoulders and turned. Before he could take a single step, he heard footsteps bounding up the stairs. A moment later, Spencer Elliott appeared, looking as cocky as ever.
“Hey, man,” Spencer greeted with a grin. “I didn’t realize you were stayin’ here.”
Atticus nodded. “Just for a little while.”
“Well.” Spencer flashed a grin, stopping in front of the door to Archer’s room and knocking lightly. “Wish me luck.”
Atticus didn’t wish him anything, but he did slip back into his room and hunt for his headphones.
No way could he sit there in the dark and listen to Archer and Spencer. If he was subjected to that torture, he wasn’t sure he would survive it.