Chapter 15
Fifteen
Wesley
“You know she loves him, right?”
My axe freezes over my head. Not because of what Rhett said, but because he was the one to bring it up. Rhett and feelings… he doesn’t talk about them and he tries hard not to feel them. I lower the axe slowly, forgetting about the log that needs splitting.
We don’t need it.
I’ve been chopping away for the past hour trying to preoccupy myself. It’s more productive than staring into the fire like Rhett has been from his seat and less violent than practicing axe throwing with Santi, who goes still a few feet behind me.
“Well, yeah, that’s why the betrayal hurts so much,” I agree. “Ledger was a second father to her.”
Rhett shakes his head.
“That’s not what I meant. This—” he waves his hand behind him toward the cabin that Blair is currently tearing apart in search of clues for reasons behind Ledger’s betrayal, “—is a broken heart. Her need to torture rather than put a bullet in his head is because he ripped her heart in half.”
None of us have talked about what to do since Blair and Santiago came back from Santi’s house this afternoon.
It’s been the elephant in the room.
The conversation of the death, or the torturing, of Ledger has been relatively easy to ignore since Blair kicked us out of the cabin after dinner, demanding she get the chance to comb through every nook and cranny without interruption or anyone in her way.
Given that no one wants to discuss it, we’ve busied ourselves in our own ways.
But apparently, Rhett’s done avoiding it.
“Are you sure? ‘Cause Ledger is, like, a million years older than her,” Santi hedges, his voice filled with uncertainty. “I can’t imagine how that would’ve worked.”
I shift to glare at him over my shoulder. “Watch it. Forty-seven isn’t old.”
“Yeah, it is. If it makes you feel better, though, you wear it well,” Santi counters with a weak smirk.
“Apparently, she’s loved him a long time,” Rhett says, bringing the both of us back to the topic at hand. “But I’m bringing it up because maybe… maybe we can salvage this somehow? How do you mend a broken heart?”
I snort, the sound bitter and derisive. “You don’t. Time helps but the wound is always there. I think we can all attest to that.”
“But we all experienced a different type of heartache,” Rhett counters with a scowl.
“Heartache is heartache. I don’t think there’s much of a difference.
” Santi walks over and stops beside me to look between me and Rhett.
“We just have to love her a bunch and hope it’s enough to at least buffer some of the pain.
None of us had anyone to lean on when our families died, but it won’t be like that for her—she’ll have us.
I don’t think our love is enough to save Ledger though. ”
“So…” Rhett hedges quietly. “What do we do, then?”
I’ve been absolutely positive that killing Ledger was our best bet here.
I’d been sure of it since the moment he pointed a gun at my head.
But in the past several hours, I’ve been reconsidering that option.
If Ledger wanted Blair dead, there would’ve been a hundred easier ways to do it than this.
And like I told Santi the night all this shit came to a head—I don’t think Ledger wants to see Blair dead. He’s been obsessed with her for years.
So, why put a hit on Blair? If not to kill her… then for what reason?
That uncertainty, along with the fact that Ledger helped Blair and Rhett when trouble found them, has me second guessing my decision. With these two back home now, I’m not nearly as angry. And without the anger, I’m beginning to think a bit clearer.
Before anyone else can say anything more, the sound of the door slamming gains our attention. We all look behind us to find Blair strolling over. In her hand is a shoebox.
I move, meeting her halfway.
“You hanging in there?” I ask, unable to read the eerily detached expression on her face.
She says nothing as we walk toward the fire. She stops beside Rhett, who eyes the box curiously.
“Whatcha got there?” Santi asks, moving closer to take a look.
“I found it,” Blair says, her voice just as cold and detached as her expression. “It was tucked away in a hole in the ceiling of Ledger’s closet.”
“What?” I ask, confused. “How would you have known to look in there?”
The sound that slips past her lips is—I think—supposed to be a laugh. Yet it’s so filled with bitterness that it sounds more robotic and dark.
Rhett visibly shudders.
I suppress the urge to do the same.
“Ledger always said to look up. Our natural instinct is to scan everything at eye level first, but really, the danger will most always come from above.” She hums thoughtfully before adding. “Sniper logic, I guess.”
“What’s inside?” I ask.
“Me.”
I don’t understand her answer and judging by the confusion on Rhett and Santi’s face they don’t get it either. As if she can sense our confusion, Blair opens the lid and sits the box inside of it.
I lean closer to peer into the box only to find a few random little objects.
Blair picks up a hair clip. “This is mine. It went missing not long after I started my first nursing gig. I thought I lost it.”
She drops the item back into the box and lifts a torn piece of cloth.
“This goes to my favorite shirt that I bought during my short stay in a small town in Montana five years ago. I’d thought I’d snagged it on something and torn it. I still have that shirt… or had before I left everything behind to come here.”
The piece of fabric is dropped back into the box.
Blair pulls out a tube of lip gloss next.
She doesn’t elaborate on this, but she doesn’t have to.
That must be hers as well from some vague period in her life.
The last item she picks up is with trembling hands.
It’s a postcard, one clearly never delivered.
“Hello from Colorado Springs!” is stretched across the front of it with a picturesque scenery behind the words.
Blair flips it over for us to see what’s written on the other side.
Dear Ledger—
Please don’t hate me. I’m sorry.
Love, B.
“I never sent this,” she mutters. “I thought it got lost in one of my moves.”
“Why would he hate you?” I ask her.
“Because,” she starts. “I kissed him. It happened amid a job that had gone sidewise and I thought we weren’t going to make it out—so I threw caution to the wind and went for it.”
I shoot a surprise glance at Rhett whose gaze is trained on Blair’s face. He was right. Blair does, or did, love Ledger.
“It looks like Ledger took something from me once a year since then, if I’m to go by the objects in this box.
There was also that picture in the glove box of the SUV we stole the night we hightailed it out of here.
” She glances at Rhett. “That must’ve been the first time he started stalking me. Ledger gave Dixie’s men that picture.”
I stare down at the box in Blair’s hand, wondering at it.
This doesn’t look like hate.
It looks like an obsession.
No, it looks like…
“This is an addiction,” I blurt out, surprising everyone.
All eyes fall on me but mine land on Blair.
“Ledger was stalking you for years. I always thought he was going on business trips, not…” I shake my head.
“Not getting his fix of you. He never stopped after Ashleigh, he just got better at hiding whatever it is about you that drives him to do reckless and dangerous things.”
“Fuck. Him.” Blair starts to toss the box into the flames, but Santi stops her.
“Hold on a second,” he says. “We were just talking about how none of this feels right. It’s like we’re missing a large piece of a puzzle. We should keep this until we know it’s not absolutely necessary.”
Rhett frowns. “When will we know that?”
“After we interrogate him,” I decide. “This way we get answers. Maybe even closure.”
Everyone looks at me as if I’m crazy.
“He won’t tell you the truth,” Blair informs me.
“You don’t know that,” I counter. “Let’s put Ledger in the hot seat and let him talk. Before he took off after you, he claimed that this isn’t what it seems. So, let’s see if he can fill in the gaps for us.”
One of Blair’s brows quirks up in interest. “So… torture?”
“Talking,” Rhett corrects as if she’s mispronounced a word rather than suggesting something heinous. “Interrogation means ‘conversing’.”
Blair crosses her arms over her chest. “Not in the world I grew up in.”
“Yeah, well that world was shit.”
“And a world where you lure people in to kill them is better?”
Rhett’s mouth slams shut.
“Blair…” She looks at me. “Let’s talk to him, okay? We can figure out what to do from there.”
Blair hums noncommittally. Her eerie mask of indifference is back. There’s not even a flicker of emotion in her eyes. They’re just… empty. The hair on my neck and arms rises in alarm.
“Alright?” I press when she says nothing.
After a beat she concedes with the tightest of nods. “Alright.”
“Okay, cool,” Santi says on a shaky exhale as he looks around all of us anxiously. “I guess it’s interrogation time.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Not tonight. Tonight we’re going to appreciate that we’re back together and just relax. We’ll deal with Ledger tomorrow night, after a day of figuring out how we’ll deal with him. For now, no more talk of Ledger.”
Everyone looks at me.
“You got something in mind?” Rhett asks curiously.
I smirk. “Yeah, actually, I do.”
An hour later, the couches and two recliners have been pushed to the perimeter of the living room. Two mattresses have been brought down and lay out in the middle of the space with blankets and pillows having been strewn over top of them.
I toss popcorn into my mouth as I flip through the different movie options while studiously ignoring the two guys making out beside me.
Apparently, any subtly these two were clinging two before Blair and Rhett took off is now out the door. Not that I mind. I just wish Santi would stop annoying me by trying to weave his fingers with mine. I know he’s doing it on purpose to mess with me, so I do my best not to rise to the bait.
“Hm, it smells good down here.”
I look over my shoulder to find Blair slipping into the room.
Dressed in just my sweatshirt that hangs half-way down her thighs, she looks…
alive. There’s a little hint of color in her cheeks beneath her pretty brown skin and there’s warmth in her eyes as she lowers herself onto the mattress and crawls over to me.
Smiling, I hand her the popcorn bowl. Blair takes it eagerly.
“That looks good on you,” I tell her, drinking in the sight of her bare legs as she stretches them out before us.
She smiles. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” I assure her. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”
“I like wearing your stuff, it smells like you.”
My heart swells and a balloon of pride swells in my chest. “You can wear my clothes whenever you—”
“You can wear mine too if you want!” Santi interrupts as Rhett rolls off him and they both sit up.
Rhett rolls his eyes. “Most of your clothes are at your house.”
“I’ll just bring them all here.”
Blair laughs softly, the sound easy. I didn’t realize how much I’ve been worrying about her until now. It’s a relief that she can remember to find joy despite the ugly in our world right now.
“I’ll wear your clothes, too,” she promises. Shooting a glance at Rhett, she adds, “Don’t be surprised if you find a shirt or two missing as well.”
Inwardly, I sigh. I was afraid the tension between the two of them from this morning would linger but clearly that’s not something I have to worry about anymore.
Rhett groans. “Great, between you and Santi—who, I will add, already steals my shit—I’m going to end up walking around here naked.”
“I don’t think anyone would mind, mi amado,” Santi says happily.
I hold up a hand. “No, no. Don’t speak for all of us. I definitely would mind. I’ll find all the clothes these two hoard and give them back if that’s what it takes from seeing your cock swinging around these halls.”
Blair laughs and Santi immediately promises to re-steal everything if that is the case.
The four of us continue to talk. There’s laughter and bickering, serious conversation about non-serious things like what the best amusement park of all time is or which Bond actor was the best. As we chat, a knot in my chest begins to ease.
The stress of everything is pushed aside and I find myself being able to breathe and smile and laugh easily.
It’s like nothing matters except right here and now.