by Smyth, R. A
Preston is bent over him, not giving a shit about the blood soaking into his trousers as he cradles his dying best friend to his chest.
No. Not Barrett. He can’t be dead. He just can’t.
A croaked noise leaves my voice, but I can’t find the energy to do anything more. My body is ice cold. I think I hear Ty calling my name, that same edge of panic and despair in his that I heard in Preston’s. But I can’t be sure. I might have imagined it.
I try to turn my head to look for him, wanting to see all my guys a final time. This is it. The end for me. I can feel it. My head won’t move though. My vision tunnels until all I can see is Barrett, lying motionless opposite me.
At least, wherever we go next, we’ll be together.
Chapter 49
I wake up to an incessant beeping sound that drills its way into my head, making the dull ache behind my eyes pound until it feels like I’m being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles.
I can feel someone's warm hand wrapped around mine, hear people having a whispered argument over me.
Where am I? What happened?
Someone else trails their finger down the side of my face, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Aiden. I don’t even have to open my eyes to know it’s him.
Thinking about him, my guys, brings back flashbacks of memories.
Explosions. Gunshots.
The four of them fighting.
More gunshots.
I was shot.
Aiden was on top of me.
Barrett. Barrett was shot.
He was dying.
The desperate need to know what happened to him has me clawing at the heaviness in my limbs, fighting through the fog in my brain until I finally manage to crack open my eyes, a small groan escaping me at the bright light assaulting them.
“You’re awake,” one of the guys says, relief filling his tone.
Someone squeezes my hand tightly, probably to the point of pain, but I barely feel it. I cling to that contact though, using it to try and keep myself conscious.
Finally getting both eyes open enough to take in my surroundings, I see I’m in a sterile hospital room. Ty’s the one squeezing my hand, sitting on a chair at the side of my bed. Aiden is sitting on my other side. The two of them are still coated in dried blood, wearing the same clothes they were wearing at the mansion. And don’t think I don’t notice Preston isn’t here.
How long have I been out for?
Already feeling the effects of the painkillers as they threaten to drag me back down to oblivion, I ask the only question that matters. “Where’s Barrett?”
The two of them exchange a glance, silently communicating with one another, before looking back at me.
My vision is beginning to go as sleep tries to claim me again, making it difficult to concentrate on Aiden as he swims in and out of focus. Neither of them answers my question, but their grim faces and sad eyes are all I can see as darkness claims me, dragging me down to its dark depths where I’m haunted by the scene of Barrett’s lifeless body.
________
It’s been three weeks, three long weeks, since that day. The day everything changed for us.
Today is another hard day, in a sea of hard days.
I run my palm over my black skirt, ironing out the creases. Not that it matters. Who gives a shit what I’m wearing? I can barely even see the creases with the tears swimming in my eyes, threatening to spill over.
I look back up to the front of the room, scanning my eyes over the sparse crowd gathered here, interspersed in various pews around the room. I don’t recognize most of them, and I honestly don’t give a shit who they are.
The only people that matter are the three sitting beside me. I guess in some sick sense all of my guys are here with me. Just not in the way I want.
Aiden and Ty are on either side of me. My hand is clasped in each of theirs, the three of us clinging to one another for support.
Preston sits stoically on the other side of Aiden, his face it’s usual unreadable mask, but I see the cracks, the toll the last few weeks has taken on him. Thankfully, Aiden has taken it upon himself to look out for him. I was worried he would go off the rails; run off like he did when I spiraled after Kurt, but he hasn’t. He’s been a wreck, just like the rest of us, but he’s stayed. I think he’s been able to find some small comfort in having Aiden and Ty by his side.
An elderly man dressed in robes enters at the front of the room, and the congregation all get to their feet, us included. This is it. The moment we have been waiting weeks for, dreading. We know how today is going to go. We’ve already got the bottles of alcohol ready to go, back at the warehouse. God knows we’re going to need it after today.
“Take your seats,” the man says loudly, his voice resonating around the room. “We’re gathered here today—”
I zone out of his speech, not needing to hear his words. I know why we’re all here. I don’t need some old guy to remind me of the shitshow that was that day. It’s my fault that we’re here today, bearing witness to this fiasco. Everything that happened that day, and everything that’s gone down since, is my fault.
My head snaps up as the one word I’d been expecting, but dreaded hearing, is shouted out across the room. The word replaying repeatedly in my head.
“Guilty.”
They found him guilty. I knew they would, but knowing it and hearing it are two very different things.
Oliver’s going to do time in prison, all because of me.
My eyes fall on him, sitting with his lawyer at the front of the room. His entire body has sagged forward, his head dropping down to his chest under the weight of that one word.
“Fuck.” Barrett’s voice comes out tiny over the speaker of Preston’s phone. He wasn’t able to come today. He’s still in the hospital, although he got the all clear this morning to be discharged, so we’re going to pick him up this afternoon.
It was touch and go there for a while with him. He was shot that day at The Citadel. By Kirk, apparently. Yup, it turns out the other body I saw was in fact my father. I don’t know how the fuck he got out of the mansion in time or where he was hiding while we were getting the girls out, but like the pathetic coward he is, he waited until we had our backs turned before he shot at us. The other guys all returned fire while Aiden protected me, and thankfully no one else was hurt other than Barrett and I.
According to the doctors, the bullet nicked Barrett’s heart. He got incredibly lucky, but he still needed open heart surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage it did. Then it took him a lot longer to wake up after the surgery than the doctors had predicted.
He laughs at it, saying he just needed some peace and quiet, sick of listening to the guys gripe at one another, but we all know we came so close to losing him. He has these moments, where the reality of it all hits him. I can see it. The smile drops off his face, and he lets himself feel all that fear, but whenever he catches one of us looking at him, he paints the smile back on his face. It will take some time, but one day we will leave all this behind us.
Just thinking about it makes me so fucking angry. I want to go back and kill my father all over again. He got away too easily. Several bullet wounds and a quick death was the least he deserved for all the shit he did to me, for all that’s happened the last few months. But I just have to focus on the future, on the fact this is all over now and we can move on with our lives.
We graduated last week, not that any of us went to the ceremony. Preston collected our certificates from the school the other day. There was no fanfare or celebration. The point is that we’re all done with school. After today, we’re finished with Crescentwood. We’re just waiting on Barrett to be well enough to travel, then we’re getting the fuck out of here. I’ve no idea where we’re going yet. None of us have been able to agree on a location.
Barrett had the ridiculous idea of picking a random location on the map and just going there. See what it's like and if we like it. If not, we can always mov
e on somewhere new. It’s not his worst idea. I actually kinda like it. Our own wee adventure.
“The guilty party will hereby be sentenced to two years in a minimum-security facility.” The judge barks out, drawing my attention back to the room.
“Two years isn’t bad,” Preston whispers. He and Barrett paid for the best lawyer money could buy, but there was no way Oliver was going to get out of this without doing some time. Hell, he was found at the scene of a brothel holding girls against their will, with blood still on his clothes from earlier, with weapons strapped to him and gunshot residue on his hands. He should have gotten life in prison, or even the death penalty.
Just the thought of that has bile rising up my throat.
The lawyer was able to fob most of the evidence off as circumstantial, but he couldn’t make the damning evidence just disappear. So we all knew he would have to do some time in prison. The lawyer promised to get the sentence reduced as much as possible, and he’s kept his word. Even got Oliver a spot in a minimum-security place. Maybe it won’t be so bad? Or perhaps I’m just kidding myself.
Oliver is ushered to his feet, the guard taking his upper arm and directing him towards a door at the side of the room. I hastily jump to my feet. I’ve so much to say to Oliver and I haven’t had a chance to talk to him since that day.
I spent nearly two weeks in hospital myself. Apparently I was shot in the abdomen. The bullet hit some important artery, and I lost nearly half my blood before I arrived at the hospital. They had to give me a blood transfusion and perform surgery to close the wound.
Mia came by a few times while I was there. It was the first time I’d seen her in ages and it was so good to sit and chat and catch up. I was finally able to tell her the truth about everything that had been going on. Well, not everything. I didn’t tell her about Kurt. No one needs to know about that. But I explained to her about who my father really was and told her what really went down the night Oliver was arrested. To say she was shocked would be an understatement. She’s been great, though, messaging me every day and keeping my mood up with her hilarious sense of humour.
I was discharged from the hospital a week ago and I’m more or less fine now, just a little sore, but I haven’t been able to talk to Oliver, to apologize and thank him. We owe him our lives. He doesn’t deserve anything that’s happening to him right now.
Somehow sensing my desperation, he turns to look at me.
“I’m sorry,” I mouth, tears springing from my eyes.
He gives a small nod of his head, a reassuring smile on his face before the guard pulls him through the doorway and out of sight for the last time. He’ll be bundled into a van and sent straight to the prison. We won’t be able to see him again until he’s allowed visitors.
I collapse back into my seat as soon as he’s out of sight. The four of us sit there silently as the room empties around us. No one says anything for the longest time, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
I’m assuming Preston hung up on Barrett at some point, there’s no way he would have stayed silent for this long. Speaking of Barrett…
“Come on,” Preston says, getting to his feet. “There’s nothing more for us here, and Barrett’s going to have the nurses falling all over him if we don’t get him out of the hospital soon.”
I crack a weak smile at his joke, taking his hand as the four of us make our way out of the courtroom.
Epilogue
Two Years Later
Sophie,
You have to stop beating yourself up over that day. You did what you had to do to save your guys, and I did what I had to. I don’t regret it, and neither should you.
If anything, I owe you a thank you. I may have spent the last two years imprisoned within these walls, but I’m freer than I’ve been in a long time. My life is mine to do with as I please, and I plan on making the most of it once I get out of here.
I’m glad to hear you're happy and that you’ve found somewhere you can call home. All of you deserve that. I’ve had time to think about what you said. I appreciate your offer to come live with you when I get out. I’ll definitely stop by at some point, make sure the guys are behaving themselves, but I need to find my own way in this life. I need to discover who I am. The version of me that isn’t a Beast.
The last time I was my own person I was barely a teenager. I have no idea who the adult version of me is, or what I want to achieve in this life.
I’m not sure where I’m going to go when I get out of here, but I’ll let you know when I get there.
Go and enjoy your guys, live in every moment with them and don’t worry about me. I’ll find my own way. I always do.
Oliver
I’ve been waiting on this letter for months. Oliver was released three weeks ago and every day since I’ve been hoping he will show up here. While I’m disappointed he’s not on his way, I’m pleased to hear him so at peace. Wherever he is now, I’m sure he’s discovering who he is, living his best life.
“Sophie!” Barrett yells from somewhere else in the apartment.
We’ve been living in Liberty Point for six months now. Once we got home from the courthouse that day, we went through with Barrett’s plan. We rolled a die across a map of America, and we followed where it landed.
For the first year after Oliver was incarcerated, we moved from place to place, until we finally landed here, in this small sea-side town. We fell in love the instant we arrived. How could we not with the picture-perfect beaches, the sea-salt in the air, and the smiling, friendly people.
This town is the complete opposite of Crescentwood. No one gives a crap about status or money. Most people are small time fishermen, or small business owners. In the grand scheme of things, they’re nobodies. Anyone from our old lives would scrunch their noses up in disgust. Yet, these nobodies have become our neighbors, our friends. We’re part of a community that actually gives a damn.
All of us fit in here, like we were always meant to end up in this small town. Even Aiden and Preston get along with the ornery fishermen. Some of them have even taken Aiden under their wing, showing him the ropes. Now, he gets up at the crack ass of dawn to go out fishing with them, then spends the rest of the day selling their hoard at the market.
Ty got a job with a local mechanic. Thanks to his experience with the Beasts, the owner took him on without him having to apprentice or gain any qualifications. He loves it. He loves working with his hands, and the banter he has with the guys at the shop.
Preston’s recently bought a retail unit in town and is in the process of renovating it so he can turn it into a gym. Barrett helps him out with it, but he’s more interested in surfing than being stuck inside a gym all day. He’s been taking lessons and he’s a natural in the water. I knew that sexy surfer look of his was for a reason. He’s got all these big plans to open a surfer shop and give out lessons associated with the gym one day, but mostly, we’re all just living for today.
As for me, well after always believing I’d have to go to university to better myself and gain the future I wanted, I’ve come to realize, there’s so much more to life than having a promising career and money in the bank. Instead of picking the flashiest, most well-paid career I can think of, I’ve decided to try my hand at something I enjoy.
I’m only just beginning, but I’ve decided to write a book. I’ve always been a big reader—loving the written word—and we’ve been through some insane shit in the last few years, so I figure why not write about it? It’s bound to make for a great read, right? The book probably belongs in the fictional part of a book store—I doubt anyone would believe this shit is real, but still, I love it, and it fits in perfectly with my life with the guys.
“Sophie!” Barrett cries out, exasperated as he barges into the room. “What are you doing in here? Come on, we’re going to be late!”
“Where are we even going?” I ask for the millionth time. None of them will tell me though. It’s driving me insane.
Not falling for it, he rolls his ey
es, coming over and lifting me off the bed.
“Barrett!” I screech as he throws me over his shoulder, carrying me through the apartment and out the door, into the street. “I’m in a dress!” The shithead ignores me and I hear Ty from somewhere nearby as I’m dumped in the backseat of our car.
“You asshole,” I grumble, only making him grin wider as he slides in beside me, pinning me in between him and Aiden, whose chest is also vibrating with laughter.
That’s another thing that’s new. Aiden laughing, and smiling. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still a rare occurrence, and usually at my expense or because of some stupid shit one of the others has done, but he does it, and damn, does he look fucking amazing when he smiles.
He drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me in and kissing my temple as Preston slides in behind the wheel, starting the car and pulling out onto the road.
Knowing there’s no point in me asking yet again where we’re going, I sink into Aiden’s embrace, watching the sea as we drive up the coast road.
Thirty minutes later we pull up at a cute white beach house.
“Whose house is this?” I ask, climbing out and taking in the property. It’s beautiful, with the beach as a back garden, providing the most incredible backdrop.
Finally tearing my eyes away from the view, I watch as the guys grab bags from the trunk—yup, I’ve converted to a proper American now—and take them into the house.
“We’re staying here?” I ask Ty, catching him before he can disappear inside. “We figured we could all do with a weekend away,” he says, shrugging his shoulders.
“This is ours for the whole weekend?” I gape, taking in the house and the beach again. Damn, I could totally get used to seeing that view every day from my bedroom window, and with my morning coffee, and with a glass of wine in the evening. I bet the sunset is out of this world.
He makes a non-committal noise before heading into the house. I follow after him, curious to see what the inside is like. Stepping into the entrance hall, it’s as beautiful as I imagined. All whites and baby blues. The ground floor is open plan, the back wall made entirely of glass, providing an unobstructed view of the sea beyond and allowing daylight to filter in, lighting up the entire house.