This was all my fault. God, what had I done?
After I’d failed to get a hold of anyone, I hadn’t even stopped to throw anything into a bag. I just dressed and dragged Thea out of the shower to take me to the airport since she had a car.
I couldn’t get a flight out until six a.m. my time, and it was now after six p.m. Thunder Bay time. I’d been able to see bits of pieces on my phone during my layover in Chicago.
They’d been arrested.
And Martin was probably in heaven.
I looked around, people I didn’t even recognize walking the streets. I swallowed a few times, trying to generate some saliva, but I just wanted him out. Back at school where he belonged.
Will.
But then I smelled it.
The fire.
I turned my head, looking around, and my gaze stopped, seeing the yellow tape on the hill.
My stomach dropped.
“Stop,” I breathed out.
The driver kept going.
“Stop!” I yelled, digging in my pocket for the cash.
The car halted, people talking and yelling outside the cab. I threw the money over the front seat and jumped out of the car, racing across the street, through the crowd.
I gazed up at it as I climbed the small incline—the wood charred, the roof collapsed, and debris everywhere.
My gazebo.
Why…who…?
I spun in a circle, looking around the village and noticing the wood bolted over what used to be a display case at the front of Fane, the jewelry store.
What the hell happened here last night?
Tears wet my eyes, but I quickly wiped them away and charged back down the hill and across the street, pushing through the crowd of people until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I’d built that. Nothing else seemed burned. Why that?
Like they had to erase me from the town.
I started running, taking a right down a quieter street and racing to the police station.
I swung the door open, pushed through all the people inside, and shoved my way through the partition, heading to the offices in the back.
“Emory!” someone barked.
But I ignored him, probably a cop to tell me I couldn’t just barge in.
“Emmy!” another person shouted.
I dug in my heels, slamming my hands into the double doors and charging over to my brother’s desk.
It was empty. I looked at Bryan Baker coming back to his desk with a coffee.
“Where is he?”
“In the john,” he said, taking a sip. “Have a seat.”
I set off, heading down the hall and charging into the men’s room.
Sweat covered my back, and I breathed hard, about to explode. This wasn’t his day. He wasn’t going to win.
Martin stood at a urinal, the rest of the room apparently empty.
I glared at him as he turned his head slowly, looking me up and down.
But he didn’t seem surprised to see me.
A scar stretched across his jaw as he spoke. “You disappoint me,” he said, turning back around and finishing up. “Of all the things to drag your ass back to Thunder Bay for, you came back for this.” He zipped up his pants and fastened his belt. “You didn’t come back for me when they put me in the hospital last summer.”
“Let them go,” I demanded.
He just chuckled, turning around and heading to the sink.
Turning on the faucet, he pumped some soap and lathered his hands.
I stepped up. “The video is a fake,” I stated, remaining calm. “Someone spliced in shots of their faces. Afterall, who would be dumb enough to show themselves committing such a heinous crime?”
He cocked an eyebrow, listening to the story I’d pieced together on the plane ride here.
I folded my arms over my chest. “I mean, why wear masks in the first place? The Graysons, Moris, and Torrances will pay for any expert you need to back up that story, and I’m sure they’ll be very grateful for your willingness to show their families support.”
He rinsed his hands, a smile playing on his lips. “And Griffin Ashby?” he pressed. “Am I supposed to ignore the justice he wants for his daughter?”
“She’s sixteen,” I growled in a low voice. “Not twelve. That law is laughable. Damon didn’t force her.”
No one thought he did. That video was evident.
Sure, he was kinda sleazy sometimes, and he was really good at coercion. Maybe he took advantage. She was blind, so…
My brother certainly wasn’t anyone to ensure justice for young girls.
“These charges won’t stand.” I inched closer. “All you’ll accomplish is making yourself the enemy.”
Grabbing some paper towels, he dried his hands and listened, too at ease. Why was he so calm?
Even if he were confident, Martin didn’t like me talking back to him. What was going on?
“The town is in shreds tonight,” he mused, looking at me with a gleam in his eyes. “Have you seen the streets? Their heroes are dead. It’s beautiful.” He laughed again, tossing the towels into the trash. “I got each one of those little shits in a cell. Except Crist. My patience has paid off. I just need to be a little more patient.”
What the hell did that mean? Did he know who posted the videos? Was he in on it?
“I’m going to tell everyone the truth,” I said. “I’m going to tell them everything you did to me. Will Grayson and Kai Mori will be heroes.”
He stepped closer, and I retreated a step, bracing myself, but then he said, “Come with me, Emory. I want to show you something.”
He walked past me, out the men’s room door, and I couldn’t fucking swallow. Fear curdled in my gut.
Too calm. He was never this calm.
I spun around and followed him out the door and farther down the hall.
He didn’t bat an eyelash at anything I’d said. Was he really going to charge a senator’s grandson for giving him the beating he deserved?
Opening a door on the left, he walked into the dim room, and I stopped, looking inside.
There was a glass partition and a table on the other side, handcuffs wrapped around a set of fists.
I drifted in, Will coming into view in the next room as he sat secured to a table all by himself, Kai and Damon nowhere to be seen.
I rushed up to the glass, pressing my fingertips to it.
He looked like shit.
But that bergamot and blue cypress wafted over me as if it were yesterday and he were right next to me.
My chest shook, taking in the bags under his eyes and the smile that was no longer there.
“I’m going to tell everyone you’re in love with him,” Martin said. “You’d say anything to protect him. I’m sure I could find witnesses to corroborate a time or two you both were all over each other. The Cove. The school bus, was it?”
I stared at Will. I knew someone must’ve seen us that night racing through the parking lot.
“Do you have proof of your allegations?” Martin asked. “Witnesses? Photos?”
I curled my fingers into fists as Martin came to my side and looked at him, too.
“He burned down your gazebo, Em.” His tone was steady. Planned. “He’s been fucking everything with a skirt, snorting anything that’ll fit up his nose, and drinking everything that promises him sweet oblivion for the past two years,” he told me.