Epilogue
Ryker, Age 21
Six months later
The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, buzzing like they’re on their last breath before they burn out. There are three dead moth carcasses in the plastic casing of that same light, and a hundred other insect bodies crammed into the corners.
I glance down at the moth tattoo on my forearm, its wings barely visible beneath the rolled sleeve of my beige—soon to be bright-orange—uniform.
Some fucking warning that turned out to be.
Another black suit walks into the courthouse holding room. I don’t bother looking up, but I can tell from the slow tap of his footsteps that it’s not my lawyer.
“You fucked up,” he says flatly, metal chair squealing against the concrete floor as he takes the seat across from me. “You fucked up bad .”
Grinding my teeth, I strain against the handcuffs until the bite of pain cuts through my rage. “I did exactly what you asked. Maybe if you’d hired a better attorney, I wouldn’t have been sentenced to seven fucking years.”
“With a manslaughter conviction, you’re lucky it wasn’t twenty,” he sneers, sending a white jolt of pain slicing through my chest at the reminder that my best friend— my only fucking friend —is no longer breathing. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who told me you could get what we needed from Kane. You also said you could keep the Dunn girl from testifying against you. If anyone’s responsible for you going to prison, it’s her.”
Willa’s soot-covered face cuts through my memory from the night of the fire, quickly replaced by her stone-cold expression and lifeless eyes when she testified against me in court this morning. She kept her attention on the ground the entire trial, refusing to speak with anyone, including her own father as she sat silently in the back corner.
Being in the same room with her already felt like repeatedly taking a dagger to the heart, but it wasn’t a death blow until they called her to the stand and she wouldn’t even look at me…
Hatred leaks from my pores, hot and vicious with the weight of her betrayal.
I’ve been let down before, but this is the first time it’s felt like I was fucking dying. I thought Willa saw me—that it was us against all these other fucks. But she was so damn ready to believe the worst about me. So eager to blame someone for Noah’s death… Completely unwilling to let me fucking explain myself.
My blood curdles, and I tighten my fists.
I’ll never forget the way she looked at me on the night of the fire. Like I was a fucking monster… Like I was Beau .
“She wouldn’t answer my calls or take my fucking letters. What the hell else was I supposed to do?” I say through gritted teeth, tugging against the metal restraints. “I did everything you asked. It’s not my fault everything went south. You can’t go back on our deal.”
“Our deal still stands,” he says, eyes darting upward before he scoots his chair closer to the table. “Thanks to me , Charlotte remains with her foster parents in protective custody.” He pauses. “That being said, how long she remains there is entirely dependent on you .”
I glance at the security camera above us, unsurprised to find the red recording light no longer blinking. “Explain.”
The man smiles, drawing out the moment like he gets off on making me suffer.
I knew he was pissed about how things went down, but whatever he’s feeling right now, it’s nothing compared to the fucking shitstorm brewing inside my skull. Yes, I might’ve started the fire, but it was contained . Everything was going to plan…until it wasn’t.
This guy’s career might be on the line, but my stakes were ten times higher. My best friend is dead and the person I trusted most in the world sold me down the fucking river. For six months, I waited for her to visit—to come to her senses and let me explain. But she never did. Now I’ve lost everything and Charlie’s going to pay the price—unless this asshole’s found a way to salvage the situation.
“Well?” I prompt through clenched teeth. “Are you going to explain or not?”
“Kane came to your sentencing today,” he finally says. “He’s still here, actually. Brought a fancy lawyer with him and everything.”
I can’t help but laugh at the demoralizing irony. “A little too goddamn late to matter, but I guess I got him to trust me after all.”
Grinning, he taps his knuckle against the metal table, causing the odd mole on his inner wrist to shift into something that resembles a kidney bean. “Keeping you off the witness stand played in our favor. There’s a chance you can still get the information we need.”
I snort. This bastard made it more than clear that if I breathed a single word about why I was at the police station that night, not only would I spend the next twenty years of my life locked up, but he’d personally ensure Beau’s parental rights would be reinstated.
“What can I possibly do from prison?” I spit through a humorless laugh that echoes off the barren walls.
A devious spark flares in his eye. “Like you said, Kane trusts you now, he might be willing to testify against Josiah Koresh to knock a few years off your sentence.”
My pulse picks up and I sit a little straighter.
“The thing is…” he continues, “even if he does, five years is still a long time for me to look after your sister while you rot behind bars. But depending on what cell block you end up on, you might be a useful informant on a few of my other cases. If I could call on your services from time to time, I think I could keep Charlotte out of Deadwood indefinitely. That would also look great for the parole board in, say…two years?
I dip my chin.
If it keeps Charlie away from Beau, I’ll do my time and whatever else he asks. But when I get out of here, I’m going to make damn fucking sure Willa Dunn regrets the day she turned her back on me.
End of book one.
The journey continues in book two of the Deadwood Duet.