“It’s dead over there on Sundays.” At the heavy silence, Penn clears his throat and ruffles his disheveled hair. “Uh, sorry.”
“Sloppy,” Levi mutters.
Wren grunts in agreement. “Tide must have swept back in after…” He pauses, glancing at me. “After they disposed of the remains.”
“Dumping the body. You can say it.” Is that my voice? It sounds strangely clinical and detached.
Wren brushes a hand over my back. “Are you sure you want to be here for this? This isn’t easy for anyone. I’ll take you home.”
My chest constricts. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We’re too far away to see any details under the tarp. Nausea churns my stomach, the threat of throwing up hovering at the edges of my senses.
It’s not Ethan. I repeat it over and over to myself.
Maisy takes my hand. My palms are clammy, fingers stiff.
“Anything on him?” Jude asks.
“Just a phone. Water damage might have wrecked it.” Penn passes it to Colton.
“I’ll see if I can put it through rehab,” Colton says.
“Is this the guy?” Penn asks.
Fox holds out an arm to bar Maisy and I from following. She squeezes my hand as he, Penn, and Levi stride over and remove the tarp.
“Shit. It’s him,” Fox confirms. He covers his mouth with the back of his hand and puts the tarp partially back over the body. “Stay back, Maise. You don’t need to see this.”
Icy dread spreads over my nerve endings.
Cursing, Wren shifts to block me with his massive body, but the need to move takes over. Letting go of Maisy’s hand, I shove past Wren and Colton.
“Rowan—fuck—just wait!”
Wren’s words don’t reach me. He grasps at my jacket, but I wrench free. Weird things become my only focus, time moving slow and fast all at once. The scrape of my shoes on the pavement is too loud in my own ears and the piercing call of seagulls makes me flinch. My eyes grow so wide they hurt, but I can’t look away.
“No.” It’s a single, broken whisper. “No, no, no, no!”
A horrid rattling scream rips my throat raw, the full-body rejection of what’s before my eyes exploding with nowhere to go but out in an unintelligible cry. My hands shake as I clutch the sides of my face. It’s difficult to draw a full breath.
Ethan’s green coat is what I see first. I’d recognize it anywhere. Knees buckling, I stagger another step. I need to see. I force myself to overcome the fear flooding my system to close the distance.
“No,” I moan, the denial hiccuping out of me.
“Ro…” Colton trails behind me, reaching out to touch my shoulder.
“Let her go,” Wren says solemnly. “It’s her right.”
“She shouldn’t have to see this,” Colton snaps. “It’s fucked up.”
“She can do anything she wants right now. I’m not stopping her anymore. If she wants to see, she sees.”
Vision blurry from tears, I stumble the final few steps to the lumpy form Penn, Levi, and Fox kneel beside. I barely register Levi’s gruff words of sympathy. I blink and the tears roll down my cheeks. My knees give out and slam hard against the pavement when I collapse. Stinging pain radiates, but I ignore it. I ignore everything around me except what’s in front of me.
This is wrong. All wrong.
Worse than the accident with Dad.
The smell makes me gag. It’s rotten, soaked in death. There are…pieces missing where there shouldn’t be. My mind revolts and I block out what I can’t handle.
There’s no way to deny it’s Ethan’s jacket. A frayed patch he won at the boardwalk in our hometown is sewn into the shoulder to cover up a hole. The hood strings are knotted three times because he thinks it’s the only way to keep himself from losing them. Each distinctly Ethan thing pricks a fresh fatal stab wound in my chest.
“Show me.” My voice wobbles, so raw it’s unrecognizable.
Levi exhales, flexing the fist perched on his bent knee. “You don’t need to see the rest. It won’t help.”
“Please.”
His stern gaze burns into the side of my face. I can’t rip my eyes from the patch on my brother’s jacket.
My brother is dead.
Washed up with the tide, hauled in by a stranger. So close to me finding him, but I’m too late, too fucking late.
The truth clangs in my head. In my soul, ripping me to pieces.
Levi places a hand on my shoulder and moves the rest of the tarp out of the way. An anguished noise of horror leaves me and I clap a hand over my mouth.
Wordlessly, I shake my head. The sight is unbearable. Without the jacket, I might not be able to identify him. Instinct begs me to close my eyes, to shy away from the truth, but I make myself look so I know what was done to my brother.
Ethan’s features are there, underneath the gruesome bloating. My heart aches so much it feels as if it will never beat right again. I hunch over. The chill spreading through me seeps deep into my bones, dragging me down.
Wren’s shoes appear beside me and he reaches down to caress my head. I fall against his leg, clutching at his jeans for support as silent sobs rack my body.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry it ended like this.”
The last things Ethan and I said to each other haunt the edges of my thoughts.
“Jude, can you—?”
“Got it covered.” There’s a short pause, then, “Sorry, Rowan.”
Behind us, Colton speaks rapid-fire on the phone and Jude takes point, giving orders. Wren stays with me the whole time while I’m lost in unimaginable sorrow.
Fuck, what will I tell Mom? After all the lies I fed her. This will kill her all over again.
With a trembling hand I slowly reach to stroke Ethan’s hair. Wren crouches to my level and clasps my wrist.
He keeps his tone firm, but speaks to me with an understanding tenderness. “I know all you want is to give him a hug, but his body might not be able to withstand it in this state. I also can’t let you leave any fresh evidence of yourself post-mortem.”
Right. I know that. The true crime documentaries I like talk about the effects of water on deterioration and decomposition. Bile rises in my throat and I bury my face in Wren’s neck. I can’t even hug Ethan goodbye.
“I’ll never get to tell him I fixed the hole in the wall,” I choke.
Wren cups the back of my neck, squeezing supportively. “He knew because he knew how you are, my brave girl. Never doubt it.”
I twist my fingers helplessly in his shirt. “Everyone leaves and it’s my fault.”
“I’ll never leave you.” He kisses the top of my head as fiercely as the tone of his words. “I swear.”
The activity around me blurs in and out while I allow the ice in my bones to drag me deeper. Instead of following the urges to act, do, move I give in and succumb to the empty sanctuary in my mind.
“Rowan.” Wren’s voice is firm as he grabs my hand and tugs me with him, startling me out of my catatonic daze. “We have to go now. The police are coming.”
“The guy must have called it in after he left,” Penn says.
The wail of sirens sound in the distance.
Frozen and numb, I only stumble, my attention locked on the horrible sight of my brother’s body. I should still be screaming and crying, but there’s nothing left except this intense, cold emptiness carving out a cavernous hole in my chest.
Wren curses and tosses something to Jude before sweeping me up in his arms. He carries me away, but I crane my neck to see. The sirens get closer as we move further from Ethan.
My world collapses in darkness.
Thirty-Two
Wren
Guilt bears down on me as I watch Rowan drift through the shock in the following days. I failed and it eats me up inside. All I wanted was to shield her from this grief.
No one should have to see someone they love meet a gruesome end like Ethan’s, his body bloated, his sagging
skin a sickening shade of gray, and pieces of him missing where marine life fed on his remains.
If I could have kept her from seeing anything like that, I would have. But she’d only hate me for hiding something else from her. She needed closure after what she’d been through searching for him.
I’m primed with the urge to rip the damn world apart to destroy anyone who hurts her, but we don’t have a definite on who dumped Ethan’s body yet. It’s possible his disposal was purposefully sloppy to cast blame on Stalenko Corp if he was meant to be found, but then why put the investment in their operation at risk? Insurance, perhaps. A threatening reminder of the puppet master in control—the one who holds power over a mafia organization to use as their lackeys.
The questions plague me, but I put them all aside to take care of Rowan. She needs me. I failed her in finding her brother, but I’ll never fail her again.
Trapped in mourning, she spends most of the time in my bed. When she’s not sleeping, I coax her to eat, help her wash up, and hold her when she wakes from her nightmares.
Her mother has called a few times. Rowan’s left me to handle it. I let the calls go to voicemail and listen to the woman’s soothing voice assuring Rowan that they’ll get through this, and that if Rowan wants to come home or wants her to come up to Maine, she’s ready to book a flight.
When I’m clearing a plate away, I find a crumpled letter from the college on the floor. It’s a warning about her grant status if she doesn’t bring up her GPA. I hand it off to Colt to pull his strings and reverse. If she wants to return to her studies and complete her degree, I’ll make damn sure she’s able to do it.
We tell Fox he’s free to go. In our eyes, he fulfilled the favor owed and he deserves a happy life. Whatever threat awaits us when Colt finishes his work, we won’t involve Fox further to drag him into the storm I feel brewing. Before they left yesterday, Maisy stopped by my room to say a heartfelt goodbye to Rowan, telling her the door to their bungalow in California was always open if she decided she needed a change of pace. The idea of her leaving doesn’t sit well with me, but I said nothing while Rowan mustered up a thank you and accepted a hug.
It’s getting late when I lay down next to my girl and guide her into my arms. She’s awake, as she’s been most of the day, peering at me in a way that wrenches my heart. Her despair chokes the room. I tangle my fingers in her hair and kiss her forehead.
“Are you hungry?”
Rowan shakes her head.
“You barely let me feed you today.”
“I don’t want anything,” she whispers, burrowing closer. “Just this.”
After stroking her back, I break the silence. “What are you feeling?”
Not how are you, not you’re going to be okay. No one has time for that bullshit when they’re mourning a traumatizing loss. It all becomes empty platitudes that do fuck all. I’m asking her to let me in.
Rowan takes a long stretch to answer. When she does, my arms tighten around her.
“Murderous.” She gives me a dead-eyed look I’m all too familiar with when I look in the mirror. Her words drip with venomous loathing. “I want to make the people that did it hurt.”
She’s succumbing to the same terrible beast that dragged me under and ruled me after I lost my sister. I understand anger is the easiest emotion to latch on to. Sometimes it’s the only reason to get out of bed.
I smooth her hair back and brush my thumb over her cheek. “If that’s what you want, I’ll help you. I’ll pull the trigger for you.” Bringing her closer, I ghost my lips over hers, breathing my words between almost-kisses. “But there’s something you should know about revenge. It doesn’t take away the pain.”
Even after I took Coleman’s life for preying on my sister, the ache of her loss is as sharp as ever.
“I don’t care,” Rowan growls.
If this is the path she chooses, I’ll be with her every step of the way.
“As long as you’re aware it’s not a cure to what you’re feeling. There’s one other thing you need to know.”
“What?”
Grasping her jaw, I tilt her face to meet my commanding stare. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it together. You won’t go off to seek revenge on your own.”
She jerks to escape my hold, but I squeeze, keeping her in place. I wait expectantly.
“You’ll stay like this all night if that’s what it takes.”
She bares her teeth and wicked delight fills me. My vicious little kitten.
“Tell me, Rowan.”
She skates her eyes away, only to grumble when I shift her head where I want it. There’s no getting out of this ultimatum. She can have as much chaotic destruction as she wants, as long as I’m there to keep her safe.
“Say it.”
Rowan licks her lips. “Fine.”
“Good girl.” My mouth quirks.
Once I release her, she rolls over to give me her back. It’s much like she’s been for days, but a spark ignites in my chest with hope that she’s coming out of the shock. She’s not ready to give up yet. My fighter is still in there.
Colt pokes his head in, takes one look at Rowan, and his shoulders sag. At my questioning stare, he nods to tell me to come with him. I rub Rowan’s back and she curls into a tighter ball.
“I’ll be back.”
Dropping a kiss on her head before leaving, I follow Colt to the main room. He jerks his thumb at the security feed.
“So, we’ve got company.”
“How long has she been there?”
“Twenty minutes,” Levi mutters from the couch. “Won’t shut up. I begged him to turn off the audio.”
I return my attention back to the monitor where Rowan’s friend Isla Vonn waves her arms by the entrance for the nightclub, spitting mad and red in the face from her tirade.
“Turn the audio on,” I order.
Within seconds her fierce tone fills the room. “—swear I will kick this door down with my Valentinos and livestream the whole thing. Let me in to see my friend! She needs me!”
Levi gets up and stomps away, grumbling about target practice.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I head for the exit. “I’ll handle it.”
Stopping to retrieve what I’ll need from the trunk of my car, I circle around from the terrace to the public entrance for the students who flock to our nightclub. She’s still kicking up a storm, using a designer handbag as a weapon to threaten the camera. Fearsome little thing.
“Can I help you? You’re trespassing.”
“Jesus fucking christ!” Isla startles when she senses me looming behind her, slapping a hand over her chest.
I lift a brow, waiting for her to get a hold of herself. Her nostrils flare and she gets in my face, unafraid of me or my reputation. Well, tries to. She’s about a foot shorter than me.
“Listen, you giant, I don’t care who you are or what secrets it costs me, you’re going to let me in there to see Rowan. I need to hug the shit out of her like fifty times minimum.”
Cocking my head, I study her without giving anything away. “I see that political science degree is working wonders in your favor. Hasn’t anyone told you not to lay your cards on the table during negotiations? Promising any amount of secrets to one of us is a dangerous game, Miss Vonn.”
“I don’t care.” Isla stamps her foot. “You’d better not be locking her up again. That’s right,” she adds at the flash of surprise that slips out through my mask. “I know all about that.”
“I didn’t plan to keep her friends from her. I’ll need to blindfold you to let you in, though.”
Isla sets her jaw, not backing down. Impressed, I fish the black cotton bag from my pocket. Her eyes widen, but she lets me slip it over her head before leading her to another access point to get to the underground level.
I lean close before we go in. “And don’t think we won’t strip as many secrets as we please from you before we let you leave.”
Isla’s grumble is muffled by t
he hood obscuring her head.
Family may be hard for me, but no one should doubt that the people I care for are my world. I loved my sister, but after she died the only true family I had left were my brothers.
Now that includes Rowan.
Protecting all of them is what matters most to me.
Thirty-Three
Rowan
I exist in a hazy fog that makes me question if anything is real for a long time. Maybe I died on the spot when I saw Ethan like that. Everything is a blur, melding together in a way I can’t pick any details apart. The only thing I remain aware of is Wren’s rich scent, my one anchor keeping me tethered from imploding completely.
On some level, a growing part of me knew the truth in what Wren tried to get me to see long before we found my brother. It still doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the fact he’s gone. That I’ll never see him or hear his voice again. Much like when we lost Dad, there’s a sick sense of relief and finality that comes in knowing Ethan’s dead.
Days or hours after we arrived back at the Nest—I’m not sure how long had passed—I became lucid enough to frantically check my voicemails. One. I have one message from him. Listening to it stirs a new wave of tears every time I hear his carefree laugh because I screened his call to keep writing. Colton saved it for me so I won’t lose it if it’s accidentally deleted.
Missing him is like cutting out a piece of me I won’t ever get back. He was always the one I looked up to, wanted to emulate. Now I feel like I need to do everything myself without his guidance.
As the sadness grows, so does my anger. It pushes me out of the fog, its hold stronger each time.
The mood swings come out of nowhere. One minute I’m smiling at a memory, then I’m lashing out. Mourning has no rules or logic, it just is.
Intrusive thoughts and an urge for unstoppable violence rise up and wind around me. They whisper sweet, monstrous promises if I give in.
No matter what Wren said about revenge, the hatred poisons me like a drug. The first hit was all it took to spread through me and take hold. In the darkest moments, it’s beckoning vows to bring relief I desperately want.
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