THIRTY-THREE
I wokeup with one thought on my mind, and it’s lingered there all day long, my brain caught up in it and everything it could mean—Smith’s dead girlfriend, Alicia Redgrave, is Megan-the-pedophile’s stepdaughter. Smith is right here on campus, we know that much. But where the hell is Megan? An unsettled, nervous feeling has taken over, and my stomach has been twisted in knots since we uncovered all the new information last night.
We’ve got some Netflix cartoon dinosaur movie on for Chase that should take us right up to his bedtime. Kara is due home this evening. At least, I think she is. I glance down at my phone, but all that’s there are the texts I sent her last night.
Hey. I think you need to come home.
I mean, I know you’re coming tomorrow.
But as fast as you can manage it.
We’ve got a situation here.
I don’t know how to approach things
or what to do next.
I’ve gotten no response, which is very unlike Kara. It doesn’t even look like she’s read the messages, though it does show they’ve been delivered.
Royal sits on my left. “It’s odd she’s not answering, isn’t it?”
I bite my lip, chewing absentmindedly on the tender flesh. “Yeah. I guess she and Todd have been busy.”
From the far end of the couch, Beckham lets out a laugh muffled by his hand. “Gettin” busy, you mean.”
“You’re kidding. Still nothing? Isn’t she supposed to be home any time now?” Wilder glances down at me briefly before turning his attention back to the half-asleep child on his lap. “You want another piece of candy, Chase?”
A smile stretches my cheeks as I watch them. I guess Chase had decided that Wilder looked like a comfortable enough seat for his movie-watching extravaganza. Beckham sits on Wilder’s other side—he’s the one with the Smarties—feeding Chase one tiny candy at a time.
I hope Kara gets home soon because I’d hate to ask River to watch Chase tonight, but I’d also like to be at fight night with Royal. While he knows he’s going up against Bear, who is potentially injured, he also realizes that hulk of a guy is always a threat. One well-placed strike, and it’s lights-out. And with the head injury Royal sustained a week ago still weighing heavy on my mind, I’d really be more comfortable if I were there to support him.
Not only that but hiding here isn’t going to help us figure out what the hell is going on. Appearing at the warehouse for Royal’s fight might not either, but anything is possible. I hadn’t thought attending a memorial would jolt things loose, but it certainly had. We’ll be out in the open. I suck in a breath. Smith can fucking bring it. The idea that he’s been lurking on campus, watching me, and likely responsible for half the shit going on around here gives me the creeps. He wouldn’t have killed his sister and Zane, though. I can’t imagine a scenario where that makes sense. A strangled laugh tears from me.
Royal’s hand has been resting on my thigh, and now his thumb grazes over the skin, back and forth. Back and forth. He means to calm me, I think. “You okay?”
I exhale sharply because I’m really not, but there’s nothing to be done until we find a way to catch Smith in the midst of his dirty deeds. “Yeah. I’m going to grab a bottle of water. Anyone else need anything?”
The guys shake their heads, but my son gives me a sneaky grin. “Juice?” He knows he doesn’t get to have it very often. But sure. Why not? It’s been one hell of a weekend already.
Purposely masking my real feelings, I put on a funny face, then wink. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.”
Leaving the den, I shut the door behind me, containing the boom of the speaker system. I find River in the kitchen putting together a snack of peanut butter and slices of apple. She shoots me a shy smile. “Sorry. Baby’s hungry.”
“Don’t apologize.” I bite my lip. “I’m really happy you decided to stay here for a little while.” I pause, unsure if I should ask about her husband.
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m sure you’re wondering if I’ve heard from Brian, and the answer is no. I don’t even know what that means, but it’s for the best. We needed this time—me and the baby, not him—to figure out our next steps.” My brow raises. She purses her lips as she slowly exhales. “I’m going to go see a lawyer, find out my options. I’d like a restraining order, but I’m going to get some advice about how to go about doing that, considering all of Brian’s connections to the local police department, not to mention the surrounding ones.”
It’s definitely an obstacle. The asshole is so well connected, and no one seems to understand what a danger he is to his own wife. I give her a bright smile, not wanting to detract from her current mood. This is the happiest I’ve seen her since she arrived on our doorstep. “Good for you. I think that all sounds great. I know Wilder will help you with whatever you need. And, River? So will the rest of us. However we can help, you let us know, okay?”
Her face flushes pink, but she nods. “Thank you so much. I mean that.” She bobs her head in the direction of the stairs. “I’m going to eat my snack, then take a nap.”
“Good. Get some rest. You deserve it.”
She pauses, gesturing to the table with the plate in her hand, her teeth clenched. “Your brother… Davis, I think he said his name is? He showed up a few minutes ago.” She winces. “He seemed out of sorts, and then it kinda got worse when I told him I thought I’d been given his room.”
Crap. “Oh, don’t worry about it. He’s hardly ever here. I wouldn’t imagine he’d be staying here on a Sunday night with classes in the morning, anyway.” I frown, eyeing his bag. It’s strange that he’s here. “Do you know where he went?”
“Out back.”
“Okay, cool.” I shoot her a grin, not wanting to give her anything else to worry about. “Have a good nap.”
She takes a bite of one of the apples on her plate, smiling as she chews, fully engrossed in her snack as she walks away.
I let out a sigh. Who the hell knows if that’ll turn out to be an issue. Hopefully, Davis won’t make a big stink over it. Pivoting to the fridge, I grab a bottle of water and the jug of juice, then rummage in a cabinet by the sink for one of the sippy cups Chase likes with the bendy straws.
Drinks in hand, my intention is to head directly back to the den, but as I pass the table, my eyes fall on Davis’s bag. I stop, blinking, because surely I don’t see what I think I see. Oh, boy. No, no, no…
A Sin Keeper card. The top of his bag is unzipped, and the telltale black envelope has partially slid into the open. All of a sudden, my throat feels like I’m trying to swallow a lump of sand, and I get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know my brother is part of the brotherhood at SIN, but I’ve never questioned why he was there, though maybe I should have. What he does has always been his business, and we haven’t been close since the accident. In a weird way, I believe he thinks he’s been looking after me while we’ve been at KU, but most of the time it hasn’t felt like it. It’s almost as if he’s got a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going on. Acts like he cares one minute, does things that make it seem like he’s only looking out for himself the next.
Royal was in prison when he received his invitation to SIN. I assumed it had something to do with the accident. My lips twitch as I stare at the envelope. Maybe Davis did something that I’m unaware of. A shudder rolls through me. I don’t even want to imagine what it could be. My chest heaves with the disturbed breath I release, and I set the drinks down. Slowly, like I’m watching myself do it from somewhere outside my body, I reach for the black envelope, praying to anyone who’ll listen that it’s nothing to be concerned about. No big deal. Probably has nothing to do with anything.
The envelope feels like fire in my hands, and the only way to extinguish the flame is to look at the card inside. I slip it out, letting my gaze fall to the words inscribed there in bold print.
“Fuck, Echo, are you all ever going back to SIN, or do you plan to stay here forever? First I have to deal with you and your”—Davis lets out a snort—“harem of men being here… but now you’re bringing in other people, too? I have a complete stranger staying in my room. It’s bullshit.”
If he had a clue why River was here, he’d shut his mouth fast, but I don’t get a chance to say a word because as I turn toward him his eyes fall to the black card gripped tightly in my hands.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The way his demeanor has gone from mildly pissed off and annoyed to full-on fury in a split second is terrifying.
My hands shake. I suck in a breath. “Davis. What does this mean?” The past you’ve woven is pretend. Blinking, I stare at him as the words sink in. A lie that cost you a friend. I can’t contain myself another second. With my heart in my throat, I exclaim, “Does this mean what I fucking think it does?” Tell him what he doesn’t know so he can let his demons go. My lip trembles, shock rolling through me as he stands there, not denying any portion of it, an ugly grimace sliding over his face.
With his jaw locked tight, he glares at me before he finally mutters bitterly, “That wasn’t yours to look at. It’s none of your fucking business!” he barks, his voice gaining volume with every word. “Fucking give it to me.”
Wild-eyed, I shake my head and take a step backward as he lunges for it. “No! Tell me what it means right the fuck now, Davis!”
Chaos ensues as the door to the den bursts open at the same time footsteps sound from the stairs.
Davis sees his opportunity and grabs my forearm. Pain lances through me, and I cry out, as he wrenches the card from my hand.
“Keep your fuckin’ hands off her,” Royal growls, wrapping both arms protectively around my middle and drawing me away.
“Mama?” Chase’s little voice coming closer sends me into a panic.
I don’t want him to see any of this. “Please,” I gasp out. “Chase.” His name is ripped from my lips, and it only takes a second for River to state that she’s on it, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood as she jogs to the den. A moment later, the heavy door closes, shutting out the pandemonium.
Wilder and Beckham step between us and Davis, an added layer of protection, and I can tell from their rigid stances that they’re pissed. Wilder’s broad back heaves as he jabs a finger in my brother’s direction. “We’ve actually had this conversation before, asshole. Do you not remember how that fucking ended for you?”
“What’ve you got there, fucker?” Beckham asks, his tone casual, but I’m positive it’s disguising a certain unhinged rage that I’ve only seen once or twice before. It reminds me of the night he told me he’d end anyone who thought they could hurt me.
Wilder growls, “Hand it the fuck over.” Before Davis knows what’s happening, Wilder lunges forward and snatches the card, swiftly passing it backward to Royal as he shakes his head. I can only imagine the look of disgust on his face as he stares down my brother, who is now seething with anger.
Royal’s body goes rigid with tension once he’s read it, and he gives me a brief squeeze before letting go of me to stalk forward, his eyes boring into Davis’s. Royal hands off the card as he nudges his way between the guys.
Wilder gives a disgruntled huff, passing the card to Beckham, who pulls me up between them, putting an arm around me to hold me steady. “The fuck?” Beckham mutters, looking up to stare at Davis with disbelieving eyes. There’s no doubt in my mind that Wilder and Beckham have caught onto what that card signifies.
I step forward. If my brother did what I think he did, this is going to get ugly.
Under pressure, Davis cracks, his entire body slumping. His head drops, and he stares for several long, agonizing seconds at the floor. When he finally looks up, his eyes pin on Royal and me. He breathes heavily, and I know this is what the Sin Keeper meant when he said Davis’s time would come to talk.
My brother wets his lips. “I was so pissed at you to start with. Sniffing around my little sister… and then you hit me with the fact that you got her pregnant and she had an abortion all in one fucking breath. She’s my sister. And you broke my trust.”
Royal’s jaw works to the side. “I told you my truth that day. But you’re still not telling yours.”
He draws in a breath, shaking his head. “You were stupid drunk. Do you really think I’d have let you race my fucking car?” His eyes crash shut.
My forehead pinches. “What?”
Beside me, Royal bristles. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Davis’s face has turned red, an explosion waiting to happen. “I was fucking driving! I killed her!”
I stare at him, disbelief and utter shock crashing into me in equal measure. My blood runs cold, and I can hardly form the necessary words. “Then why…?” I can’t breathe. Oh, god. He didn’t.
Hands clenching into fists, my brother’s entire body shakes, his breath comes faster and faster.
Royal’s next words fall harshly from his lips, his voice darkly low. “Davis. Just fucking finish what you’ve started. I need you to say it.”
Throwing his arms out from his sides, Davis stutters, “I-I did it. When we were thrown from the car, the way we landed”—he pauses to rub his forehead, pinching it with forefinger and thumb while he drags in several unsteady breaths—“it looked like you’d been driving. And everyone thought you were behind the wheel because they saw you drive away from the bonfire. So, I fucking let it happen. I let you go down for it. And I’ve lived with that split-second decision ever since.”
I lift my hands to the sides of my face, my fingers gripping my head. I can’t have heard him right, but I know I did. A choked sob rips from my throat. “W-why?”
Royal releases a shuddering breath. “You’ve lived with it? Motherfucker, I lost three years of my life to a trial and going to prison for something I didn’t fucking do! I missed seeing my child born. I WASN’T FUCKING THERE WHEN ECHO NEEDED ME!” Rage pours from him, heady and potent, as he lunges forward. His fist connects with Davis’s chin with a resounding crack, and my brother’s head snaps back. He stumbles, no time to defend himself as Royal comes back in, punching him square in the gut. A huffed exhale exits Davis, and blood from his split chin flicks onto the hardwood as his body folds on impact. Breathing heavily, Royal spits, “We are not friends. We obviously never were.”
Beckham is right there on his other side, barely contained rage coloring the apples of his cheeks. “At least you have your life back, Royal. This bastard never will. Fucking asshole.”
“He’s lucky all three of us don’t give him the beating he deserves,” Wilder bites out, clamping his hand on Royal’s shoulder.
I wish they would beat the shit out of him. Davis stole precious moments from me. A support system. The man I loved. My child’s father. And he acted like I was better off for it. I don’t care if he is my sibling. He hasn’t acted like it since that night.
With my eyes locked on Davis, I move forward to stand directly in front of my brother. He eyes me, the guilt he’s feeling flowing as freely from him as the blood trickling from his split chin. “How are you ever going to make this up to either of us?” Fury races through my veins, fueling me. I slap him across the cheek, and he stares at me, a look of confusion on his face. Like I’ve hurt him. “Fuck you, Davis,” I sob, grief for everything we’ve lost filling me. Blood pounds through my head, a haze washing over my vision, and I strike out, hitting him over and over, pounding my fists against his chest.
I don’t have any concept of how long they allow it, but at some point, the guys step in and pull me off him. I’m beside myself with anger and heartbreak. I shake my head as I give Davis one last glance. “Don’t look at me with wounded eyes. You stole my life from me. You lied to my face.” My lip trembles. “I hate you. I will never forgive you for this.”
Breaths heave from Davis, and it gives me nothing but a sick satisfaction to see how his cheek is red from the slap of my hand and the way blood seeps from his chin courtesy of Royal. He shakes his head. “If you’re mad at me, you might want to look at Mom and Dad, too. They were not who you thought they were. They may have let you have the baby, but they lied to you.” He wipes at the blood with the back of his hand. “I told them what I had done… and they had me do shit to keep you two apart in exchange for not telling the cops that I was at fault.”