“Enough talking,” he clips, impatient now. “Get into the bedroom. Go!”
Dumbly, I turn and do as he says, praying that Bert won’t follow us and get hurt again.
“On the bed,” he directs me.
“What are you planning, Mark?”
“You’re going to pay me back, as I said. The insurance money will pay me back.”
And then, I realize what he must mean.
“You… you’re going to what… burn down the house?” I whisper.
He appears almost impressed at my guess.
“Very good, Ember! But don’t worry. You’ll be asleep for all of it. I’m not a complete monster.” Mark reaches into the pocket of his dark pants, pulls out a syringe. “Besides, I have to make it look like an accident. I remember there’s an insurance policy on you, too, isn’t there? And I should still be the beneficiary?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling sick. Desperately, I remember that there should be one of the Lords of Carnage outside. Didn’t they see Mark come in? Or was he careful enough to escape their notice? Has he been hiding in the house all this time, waiting for me?
Please, I pray. Please come save me…
Mark comes toward me. His eyes rake over my body, still in the wet towel. I see a flicker of desire in them, and for a second I’m afraid he’s going to… but no, he seems to think better of it.
“Give me your arm,” he commands.
I pull back, push myself up on my arms to kick him, but he levels the gun at my head, and I freeze.
“You’re going to die either way, Ember,” he tells me in a low, flat tone.
I lower myself back down.
Mark jabs the syringe into my bicep. I cry out as he pushes down the plunger.
“What is it?” I ask, staring at my arm.
“Something that won’t arouse suspicion,” he replies with a sneer. “If there’s enough of you for them to do an autopsy.”
“You won’t get away with it.”
Mark lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” he says. “Because I just did.”
I start to cry again, but this time it’s just tears running down my cheeks. My body mourning its last moments. “What’s next?” I ask. I’m already starting to feel the effects of whatever he shot me up with. I feel a dizzy, almost fuzzy. My arms are getting heavy.
“If they suspect anyone, it will be the biker,” Mark tells me smugly. “His shirt was in the garage. Well, it’s in the house now. A lighter, too. Logically, the police will look in that direction if there are any suspicions.”
“Striker,” I croak, sounding impossibly weak. My eyelids droop, and I try to fight them. “Jude…”
Are any of them out there? Would they hear me, even if I could shout?
Mark stands at the foot of the bed, watching me.
In the bedroom doorway, Bert’s worried face is the last thing I see before my eyes close.
35
Striker
As the Lords head back to Tanner Springs, I’m thankful as hell that we’re riding in formation, because I’m having one hell of a time thinking straight.
What does it mean for Tank and Cady that Jess is dead?
What does it mean for Wren?
And why didn’t Ember text me about it?
That last question has a pretty damn obvious answer. Goddamnit. I haven’t talked to her in… shit, I don’t even know how many days. She probably thinks I’m done with her. She’s probably mad at me. Fuck, she probably should be mad at me. I blew up at her for no reason. She was just trying to do her job, just trying to think of the best-case scenarios for Wren.
I brought my own shit into that. I should have apologized to her by now.
Apologize. Have I ever apologized to anyone, for any reason?
If so, I don’t remember it.
Ember’s face appears in my mind as I remember what she said about her ex and those fucking flowers he’d give her.
“Whenever we got into a fight, he always managed to bring up the flowers. ‘Don’t I do enough to show you I love you?’ he’d ask. ‘Don’t I bring you flowers every week?’ As though that meant he never did anything that he should excuse himself for. I realized toward the end of our marriage that I had never actually heard him utter the words, ‘I’m sorry.’”
Shit. I don’t wanna be that guy. The guy who thinks he’s too tough to apologize.
Ember deserves better than that.
The hum of the road beneath my tires thrums like a bass note, accentuating my spinning thoughts as I make my way closer to her. By the time we’re ten miles from Tanner Springs, I’ve realized something I should have figured out a while ago.
I’m in love with her.
That should scare the shit out of me. And it does, kinda. But it also lifts a weight off me.
Because I want to be the guy who does better for her. The guy who is better for her.
And fuck it. That starts now. It’s time for me to stop fucking up, and start stepping up.
As we get into town, I signal to Tank that I’m gonna peel off from the formation. He gives me a chin lift, and I take the next light and turn toward the area of town where Ember lives. On the way, I think about what I’m gonna say to her, feeling like a jackass but knowing it’s the right thing to do.
Two blocks away from her house, I start to worry that maybe she ain’t there. Maybe I should have called ahead first.
But no, I’m gonna do this now. Even if I have to sit outside on her fucking front step and wait for her to get home.
I pull into her street, and drive to the spot across from her house where one of the Lords should be standing guard.
No one.
I glance up and down the street, looking for a bike or a car I’d recognize. Nope.
“What the fuck,” I growl. I cut the engine and hop off the bike, covering the distance to Ember’s front door in seconds. It’s dark out, and I notice right away that through the window, I can see flickering light. Does Ember have the fireplace going?
I knock on the door. No answer. I pound louder.
Nothing.
Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I send her a quick text.
Ember. I’m outside. I need to talk to you.
While I’m waiting for her to answer, I pound on the door again. “Ember!” I shout. “Open the door!”
The rumble of an engine in the distance makes me turn toward it. The head lamp of a motorcycle comes closer. It’s Jude. I wait as he parks the bike and lopes up to join me.
“Hey,” I grunt. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“What do you mean?” His brow wrinkles. “I’m here for my shift.”
“Who was supposed to be here before you?”
“Dunno. They weren’t here?”
“Nope.” I gesture toward the door. “And I can’t get Ember to open up.”
“You sure she’s in there?” he asks.
“I’d guess so.” I nod toward the front window. “Looks like she’s got a fire in the fireplace.”
“Huh. Yeah, I can smell the fire from here,” Jude agrees. “Hey, Bert’s in there barking. You hear that?”