Chapter 40
Dylan
Darkness pressed in on all sides as I stood completely still among the pitch-black trees of the forest. I’d parked my car on a gravel road about a mile away from Myers’ hut in the woods near the Seacoast Inn.
A glimmer of light coming through the hut’s small window was proof that someone lived there.
Above me, the moon transformed everything around me into a painting of darkness and silver. It wasn’t enough to see well. If anything, it made things spookier. Turned it into the kind of place where people got lost and never came back.
From where I stood, the hut looked small. Isolated. Swallowed by the woods pressing in from all sides.
My eyes narrowed when the door opened and Lucy, the kind prostitute, stepped out of the hut.
Warm light spilled from behind her. The glow outlined her skinny body and the edge of her mouth, showing she was talking.
She hesitated just outside the doorway, and a second figure stepped out.
John Myers.
My stomach turned, and adrenaline exploded through me.
It was him! It was actually fucking him!
The light from inside caught him too. He blocked part of the glow by standing there.
His face stayed mostly dark, but the edge of his nose and the large scar on his forehead flashed into view when he leaned forward.
He looked thin. Almost small. Short.
They exchanged a few brief words. I couldn’t hear them, but suddenly Myers shoved her shoulder. Not hard enough to knock her down, but enough to make a point. Enough to remind her who had the power.
An argument.
I was about to bolt down and save her, when his arm moved again, reaching into his pocket. The light caught his hand as he pulled out money. He pressed it into her palm.
Lucy looked down at her hand, then turned and rushed off.
Her phone’s beam flickered as she made her way along the narrow path toward the Seacoast Inn. Soon she was gone.
The door to the hut slammed shut again.
My body stayed rooted where it was, eyes locked on the dark outline of the hut. The place where the man who’d destroyed our lives now hid behind old wooden logs.
Something shifted deep in my chest. It wasn’t the usual hot, explosive rage I felt whenever I thought about Myers. This was different. It was colder, quieter.
My breathing slowed. My shoulders relaxed, and my fingers hung loosely at my sides.
It surprised me how calm I was, considering how many times I’d replayed beating the shit out of him in my head. But standing here now, there was no sudden charge down the hill. No reckless rush over roots and slick stones to kick in the door and serve him some good old-fashioned justice.
For a moment, my hand moved toward my phone.
Detective Nolan had told me to call him the second Myers contacted me. And Nolan was only one tap away. I could call him right here, right now. Tell him I’d found Myers. Tell him it was over. That he could come get him and slap the cuffs on.
I left the phone in my pocket.
No.
This wasn’t Nolan’s time yet.
I had no doubt Lucy had told Myers everything about our meeting.
It showed in the way she’d run. And the payment.
She hadn’t held anything back. Not my name.
Not my visit. Not the questions I’d asked.
Not the part where I said I would pay a lot of money for him to go away again.
Every small detail about me had been handed over.
Soon, Myers would either run or come for me.
And I had no doubt it was the second option.
He was most likely tired of running and broke.
Looking at him, his life was hell. And only dropped charges or a shit ton of money could make it better.
But getting the charges dropped was getting more complicated now that people knew about his and Harlow’s plans.
Unless they had a smoking gun, this was a long shot in the first place.
So taking the money and getting out of here was the better option than the insanity of reopening the case all over again. No matter what Harlow promised him.
Things would move fast from here on out. Myers would act soon. Men like him always did. And instead of handing him to incompetent cops or filthy pieces of shit like Thomas Harlow, I’d make sure things went differently this time. Nolan meant well. But Nolan hadn’t gotten the job done before.
So it would be me taking over the reins.
I would watch.
I would wait.
And when he came for me, I’d be ready.
Now all I had to do was make him believe he’d get what he wanted. In return, I’d get what I needed.
The truth.
A confession.
And the fucking why.
Why he killed Zach. How my mom escaped.
She’d never been able to talk about it. Not only had she gone mute but her mind had seemed to collapse every time that night was brought up.
But Myers wasn’t mute. Myers could talk.
Hopefully enough to clear my mother’s name once and for all. Let her rest in peace. And keep my family from any more harm.
I stayed put, hidden in the darkness among the trees. The cold air carried the strong scent of moss and rain.
A slow breath in. Then out.
Now was not the time to confront him. Not here. Not like this. It needed planning.
And when Myers finally came for me, I wouldn’t be running.
I’d be ready.