Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sweat-slickened palms clutching the wheel, I ease my foot off the gas pedal and approach the dirt road turnoff to the Cartwright Estate at a crawl.
The loblolly pines are so thick here, they make the air stagnant; so tall, it feels as though the walls are closing in on me. On my left, a crumbling rock wall separates me from the graying tombstones of an ancient cemetery. But I don’t dare glance over, because the moment I do, I’ll be confronted by the charred ruins of what was once Divine Mercy Bible Church.
Stomach twisted in knots, I let the engine idle and peel my thighs off the worn leather seat of my new-to-me truck. I’d rather be anywhere else right now, but I need to make sure Ryker is okay…and tear him a new one if he is.
Here goes nothing.
Puffing out my cheeks with a long exhale, I pass through a wide-open, rickety wooden gate and begin the slow climb up the hill. I’m tempted to keep my eyes forward and ignore Divine Mercy altogether, but then I remember what Ryker said about how closing your eyes won’t protect you from the monsters hiding under your bed. That pretending something didn’t happen will only rot you from the inside out.
Swallowing the bile in my throat, I force myself to look at the soot-stained skeleton tucked beneath the shadows of the forest.
It’s a quick glance, barely long enough for me to spot a towering timber steeple and an excavation tractor parked in the adjacent overgrown field, but my skin is instantly hot and tight, like the scars on my back still remember the kiss of the flames.
My vision blurs and I want to throw up… No, I’m going to throw up?—
Keeping my eyes on the road ahead, I force myself to swallow down my nausea and take a deep breath through my nose.
This is the reason the Cartwright mansion is on my bucket list. Because for fourteen years, I’ve been too chickenshit to pass by the church where my mom tried to kill me.
My shoulders droop and I shake my head. I’m not even looking at the damn thing right now, but I feel it. The blade against my back. Fire melting my flesh and smoke tearing the oxygen from my lungs… A shadow haunting my every breath.
My sweat-drenched body screams for me to run, to flee this place before it’s too late, but I’m here to check on Ryker. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can leave.
Gritting my teeth, I focus on the mansion up ahead instead.
Locked behind an expanse of brick walls and a vine-covered wrought iron gate, the old Cartwright house is a monstrosity, dominating the hill it sits on and dwarfing all of the surrounding buildings on the property. Everything is overgrown, a good portion of the trees, grass, and shrubs mangled together and half dead as they choke the life out of each other in their futile competition for sunlight.
I park behind another tractor near the gate, this one with some sort of hydraulic drill attached to the arm, and stare up at the chipped brick and peeling paint of the old mansion looming above the neglected hedge. It looks more like a castle than a home. And with bits of the roof entirely missing and good portions of the exterior crumbling, I can’t begin to imagine how much it would cost to fix up a building like this.
Movement in one of the stained glass windows catches my eye, but when I lean over the steering wheel for a better look, there’s nothing there. Taking a deep breath, I cut the engine and climb out.
It’s eerily silent. No birds, no insects. No cars. Just the scuff of my boots against the dusty road and the rustling of the wind through the trees.
“Hello?” I call out, searching for a way to open the ridiculously tall metal gate while the sun beats down on my forehead. Maybe there’s some sort of intercom system I can use.
I lift a section of crawling vine, taking two steps backward and clutching my heart when a slender man dressed in all white appears on the other side of the wrought iron. Tall and lean with a face dotted with scars, he scowls and crosses his arms over his chest—the gun holstered at his side only adding to his intimidation factor.
“How did you get past the first gate?” he growls.
“ Uh …” I fumble my words, trying to regain my composure. “The gate down by the cemetery? It was open.”
The breeze picks up, and I sneeze. God, what is that smell ? It’s so sickly sweet and floral I’m nearly choking on it. There’s something else, too, like rotten eggs, but it’s faint enough I almost think I imagined it.
I clear my throat, doing my best to breathe through my mouth. “I’m here to see Ryker…and Kane,” I add as an afterthought. “Kane said I could stop by. That y’all would have me on a list or something?”
The man purses his lips. “What’s your name?”
“Willa Dunn.”
Eyes widening, his gaze slithers across the white streaks in my hair before zeroing in on my neck and shoulders. Unease ripples up my spine. I’ve never seen this man in my life, but it feels like he’s looking for my scars. Fidgeting under the weight of his gawking, I take another step backward, thankful that at least my dirty ranch clothes cover as much of me as possible .
“My apologies,” he says after a beat too long. He inclines his head. “One moment, please.” Then he backs away, bringing a radio to his mouth once he’s out of earshot, never once taking his eyes off me.
What a welcome wagon…
The humid breeze picks up, the sweat on my neck making my hair stick to my damp flesh in the oppressive heat. Again, something moves past one of the broken stained glass windows in the mansion, and even though I can’t see anyone, the prickling sensation across my scalp makes me feel like I’m being watched…
When I turn to ask the man how long this is going to take, he’s gone.
“Hello?” I call out, but no one answers.
A powerful gust of wind rips up the road, and I bring my arm up to shield my eyes from the spray of dust and dead leaves pelting my face and shins.
“Willa?” I drop my arm and spot Kane heading up the small hill from the burnt church.
He’s wearing the same bolo tie he had on the last time I saw him, the pendant of which I now see is molded in the shape of a cicada, and the same wire-rimmed glasses—but now he’s dressed in an all-white suit, the black piping on his western shirt the only hint of color in his entire outfit. Well, that and the brownish-gray dirt covering his sleeves and hands. “I’m glad to see you took me up on my offer.” He dusts his palms off as he approaches. “Unfortunately, today isn’t a good?—”
“Where’s Ryker?” I march over, meeting him in the middle of the road and stationing myself so that his broad shoulders block my view of Divine Mercy. While not quite as tall as his brother, Kane still has at least five inches on me.
“You came for Ryker?” His tone is off, and when I peer up at him to read his expression, the position of the sun behind his head gives him a fiery halo that casts his entire face in shadow.
I step to the left, and his narrowed expression comes into sharp focus while he looks from me to my new truck. “Did that deceiving father of yours come with you? Is he hiding somewhere around the property? Where did he go?” Kane’s tone is knife-edged, his speech pattern lofty and more like a play actor than a guy who grew up down the street.
“I came alone. My dad has no idea I’m here.” I shift from one foot to the other while a niggling feeling, almost like I’m on the verge of remembering something, tugs at the back of my brain. But I can’t quite grasp hold of it, not when I’m too busy silently cursing myself for admitting that no one knows I’m here.
Dad would be furious with me for that slip up.
I lift my chin. “I came to see if your brother’s okay, then I’ll be on my way.”
Unblinking, he stares at me. “Let me make sure I’m understanding this correctly,” he says after a heavy moment of silence. “You came all this way to check on someone who felt you up and hasn’t bothered to talk to you since?” He makes a tsking sound. “I have to say, that’s a little disappointing. You’re worth so much more than that.”
Neck burning with mortification, I step backward. Ryker wouldn’t have told him…would he?
Kane steps closer, a new gleam in his eye that has nothing to do with the fading sunlight. “Every single person in your life has tried to snuff out your inner light, Willa. My brother included. Mark my words, he’s exactly like the rest of them. He’ll treat you like you’re small, someone to be used and discarded when something better comes along.”
Much like the time I almost got bucked from a horse and took a saddle horn to the chest, his words slam into me, robbing me of my ability to breathe.
Kane’s right. My mother tried to snuff me out. My family treats me like I’m small and fragile. And then there’s Ryker, who’s doing exactly what he said he wouldn’t, drawing me close just to push me away again …
I shake my head. Ryker’s phone isn’t off, he probably just blocked my number…
I never should’ve come.
“You see it now, don’t you?” Kane asks, taking another step forward. “They say they want to protect you, but it only makes you weak and beholden to them.”
Tilting his head, he sucks his teeth and draws himself up to his full height. “You know, on second thought, maybe you should stay. I’d like the opportunity to show you around and let you see some of the work we’re doing to prepare.”
While it’s taking everything in me not to retreat to my house and bury my head in the sand, I am curious. I’d also love to show Ryker that I really do know how to throw a punch…
I raise a skeptical brow, still trying to regain my mental footing after this roller coaster of a conversation. Kane juts his chin toward the burnt-out church. “Come, let me show you.”
I glance at my truck and then the mansion. Someone is standing in the tower window, their face and body almost entirely obscured by the dirty glass. For all I know, it could be Ryker laughing at me for thinking our tryst on the couch meant anything…
Jaw clenched, I fall into step behind Kane, wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts as we make our way down the hill. “What are you preparing for?” I ask.
Kane grins over his shoulder, his glasses glinting in the dying sunlight. “The world’s on fire, Willa. I’m carving out a place to weather the storm and await the new dawn.”