Still, it was a bitter pill to swallow that I’d be turning my back on her. On Billie. Did I trust Jace and Rhett to keep her safe now? They’d both be grieving Flo’s death; would they blame her?
I shook off my doubts. They were my brothers—by choice, not blood—and I knew their hearts. They were both honorable, even to a fault. They’d keep her safe, even if it meant risking themselves. So I grimaced and ran a hand through my tangled hair.
“Let’s explore a little farther into the field to make sure there’re no more bodies, and then we find out who ordered this,” I reluctantly responded. “They’ll try again, no question about it.”
Angelo grunted. “Agreed. It’s just a shame we have so very many people who could be responsible. And for a whole host of reasons.”
That sounded a whole lot like he knew more about me than I’d even let on to my bandmates. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye as we made our way across the field, I nearly fell over when my toe caught something heavy.
Steadying myself, I sucked in a sharp breath, sure I’d just tripped over another body. But instead…
“What the fuck is this?” I demanded, holding up the… garment. Narrowing my eyes at Angelo, I shook my head. “I fucking knew it. There was no fucking way she’d let you knock her up so fast. No way in hell. I should have guessed…” It was a prosthetic belly. Billie wasn’t pregnant; it was all a sham.
I’d never felt so relieved in my life.
Angelo showed not even a lick of remorse as he shrugged. “It had nothing to do with Bellerose and everything to do with saving Billie’s life.”
I scoffed. “Bullshit.”
Continuing on across the field, he laughed coldly,. “You have no idea, Taylor. No fucking idea. Maybe ask her, one day. Ask her what happened after your backstabbing bitch bass player sold her out to my father’s men. Then maybe you’ll understand the choices she made. That we both made. Until then? Keep your baseless accusations to yourself.”
Well. That shut me up.
For about one eighth of a second, before my need to know had me asking, “What happened to Billie when she left our concert that night?”
I’d been able to follow her trail through New York, and then it had gone cold. And stayed cold for days. This was the timeline of events I needed information on. Angelo scoffed as we came across another dead body near the barn, this one with a pitchfork in it.
“My handy work,” a low voice said from the shadows as Rhett stepped free with multiple outdoor jackets over his arm. “The others ran, and I went for the coats. But there were a few of these assholes around, so I had to lay low.”
He bore deep furrows in his brow as he looked around. “Did you find them? I’ve been panicked that they’re freezing their asses off out there. None of them were well dressed, Flo and Billie especially. I mean, Jace was in shorts, but his stupid muscles should keep him warm. The girls, on the other hand, are both too thin…”
He was rambling, shock over this situation and the dead attacker that lay at my feet clearly kicking in, and it destroyed a part of me to know that I still had to tell him about Flo. Maybe I’d start with some good news first.
“The assholes who broke in are all dead or gone,” I said, stepping closer to him. Rhett could be unpredictable in high-intensity and emotional situations. “But they’ll be back, so you still need to head for that farmhouse and meet up with Billie and Jace.”
I deliberately left Florence off, hoping he’d give me the opening. And he did.
“Flo?” he asked, and I could tell in that one word that he already knew. He fucking knew somehow. That empathetic bastard had probably felt her last moments, even from across the field in a barn.
“Rhett.” I breathed through my own pain for a beat. It had been so much easier when I gave zero fucks about anyone. Flo had been a sister to us. “She didn’t make it.”
He just stared at me, eyes so fucking wide and shiny that I swore the half-moon above was reflected in them. “No,” he finally whispered, shaking his head so violently it had to hurt. “No. I refuse to accept that. She’s just hurt, badly injured, but we can get her help. There’s always help and hope and a fucking chance.”
Now he was shouting, the jackets flying off his arms as he raged at the fucked up injustice of the world. I didn’t argue with him, but I did do a completely out of character thing when I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, holding on tight, letting him rage his pain into the world.
He fought me for a second, and I took a few blows of his fists before he collapsed against me and sobbed. “Fucking hell, man. I can’t do this again. I can’t.”
Rhett’s past was almost as mysterious as mine to the rest of the band. He’d let a few things slip over the years when he was drunk or stoned, enough that I’d managed to put together that even his family was a suspect in this current attack. When he was back in his right mind, I’d have to ask if he’d had any contact with them recently. If there was any reason they might be back in his life, trying to take us out.
Tonight had been a coordinated attack, at least twenty attackers, mostly armed with blades for a silent kill. They’d planned on slipping in and out, leaving us all dead in our beds. It was only the few early detection alarms I’d set up around the perimeter, and the fact that I rarely slept heavily, that had saved us all.
It was a hit, plain and simple, and the fuckers here were the hired hands. I just had to figure out who was the money behind it. Then, we would go for them.
Rhett grew silent in my hug, heavy against me as if he could barely hold himself up, but my brother was made of tougher shit than that, and I knew he’d find his strength again. And sure enough, he pulled himself together, and I released him. His face was calmer, the shine of tears the only indication he’d lost it at all. “They need to pay,” he said without inflection. “Every single person who had a hand in Flo’s death will pay with their lives.”
I shook my head, a snort of laughter escaping me despite the seriousness of this situation. “It’s fucking done; don’t you worry about it. Angelo and I are about to tap into our upbringings and go all gangster on them.”
Angelo, who had been silently watching our exchange, remained in the same arms crossed because I’m a tough guy pose, revealing nothing of his inner emotions. That was my fucking pose.
“You’re sure Billie is okay, though?” Rhett asked, stronger emotions bleeding through his tone once more. “You’ve seen her? And the baby’s okay?”
Ah, the fucking baby. Turning to Angelo, I shot him a dark smirk. “Your turn, bro.”
“Billie isn’t pregnant. The belly was fake.”
Angelo didn’t even try to lead into it, and there was still no repentance in this piece of shit for the pain he’d caused all of us. And Billie.
I might need his help right now, but sooner or later, I’d have to beat his ass on principle.
Rhett’s jaw comically fell open. “It’s fake. How in the fucking… Why the fuck? Who and what the actually fucking fuck? You absolute piece of fucking shit. Why didn’t you die instead of Flo? I mean, if the universe was fucking fair...”