Then Ryan, Emily, and Ryan’s dad, Sean, charged out of the office. Ryan grabbed her round the waist and moved her away from the van, shaking her hand until she dropped the tool she was holding. Sean looked mortified, grabbing his hair and shouting, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I could guess, but I was just that bit farther away to hear it. I liked Sean; he’d always been good to me. Treated me like his fourth son, and he’d always done everything he could to help me and my nan out. So, seeing him get shit on by the likes of Harper Yates didn’t sit well with me. Sure, I’d laughed at first, but she’d crossed a fucking line giving Sean grief. This wasn’t his battle to fight.
Harper had her back to me, but I could see her shoulders sag. Defeat was taking over. About fucking time too. And then I bristled with anger. What the hell were they doing taking her into their house? Was this some kind of sick joke?
I gritted my teeth and held myself back, when what I really wanted to do was go over there and tell them all what I thought about them. The girl had ruined my life, was bad-mouthing me all over Sandland, and they were inviting her in for tea and biscuits?
I always knew Ryan was a pussy for Emily, but Harper too? Was he looking to start his own harem for all the broken girls of Sandland?
I bit my nails and waited. Only my nails were non-existent, so I was just biting the skin around where my nails used to be. This feeling of being helpless, of watching and not being able to act, made me feel pointless, worthless even.
I decided there and then that I needed to pay Kian a little visit. Maybe Finn too. Out of all of them, they were the ones I trusted the most. Finn, because he got me. He always had, and he barely spoke anyway, so nobody would be quizzing him for what he knew. And Kian? Kian could hack into anything if you asked him. If I wanted anything sorting that was technical and I wanted to bypass our resident computer whizz Zak, Kian was the man. He would sort me out, no questions asked. I wouldn’t tell the fucker anything though. He was a good kid, but he never knew when to keep his mouth shut.
About a half hour later, the door to Ryan’s house opened and Harper came out, looking saner than she had when she went in. Emily called out to her and she turned around, then I watched as Emily hugged her. Fucking hugged the bitch that had ruined my life and destroyed everything. So, she smashes up a van on Sean’s premises, tries to get me put away for life, and she gets a fucking hug? I make one mistake, and I’m out. No passing go, no collecting two hundred pounds. Just fuck off, Brandon. We want to forget you even existed.
No way.
I wasn’t going to take this lying down. I would have my say. If she could fuck shit up for Sean, I’d fuck shit up for her.
Watch out, little Yates. I’m coming for you.
“Oh my word. I can’t believe it. What on Earth is happening to this lovely town?”
Mum looked up from her phone to give Dad a worried glare over the breakfast table.
“I think we need to move house, Andy. This place is going to the dogs.”
“What happened?” Dad was picking over his eggs, but any fool could see he had zero appetite.
“Someone set fire to the Lockwood’s cars last night. They think they were petrol bombed on the driveway while the family slept inside. They’re lucky they didn’t target the house too. Who would do that?”
I knew who.
Dumb move though. Everyone knew they had CCTV in every corner of that estate.
“Have they caught them?” Dad asked. “Don’s security is pretty tight all over that place. I can imagine the police are on that today.”
“Yeah,” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “They’ll chalk it down to high jinks and close the case. Hard policing isn’t exactly the forte of the Sandland police.”
Mum ignored my dig and shuffled over to sit next to Dad to show him the photos on her phone.
“Karen sent me these. Police have no clue who did it, although they have some suspicions. A dark figure spray-painted over the security cameras at the front of the house, and any cameras that weren’t vandalised were offline. It’s like they had a perfect window to do whatever the hell they wanted, whoever they are.”
Criminal damage and tampering with technology? Sounded like the fallen saint of Sandland had weaselled his way back into the good graces of the Renaissance men. There were only two guys I knew of who could tap into systems like that, and they were both in that crew.
“I shouldn’t say this,” Dad said in a low voice, like the Lockwoods were in the next room. “But Don has enough enemies to fill Wembley Stadium. I think they’ll have their work cut out for them sifting through that black hole.”
Mum hummed in agreement then leant forward to look at me.
“Maybe you should reach out to Jensen and Chase? They haven’t had an easy time of it lately. We need to stick together in these trying times. Plus, safety in numbers. I do worry about you being on your own sometimes, Harper. Sandland isn’t like it was years ago. These gangs are-”
“You don’t need to worry about me, Mum,” I said, cutting her off. My own safety was the least of my worries. If someone wanted to come for me, I was ready.
“All the same,” Mum added. “Those boys might not be going through the grief we are, but they are going through a lot.”
I tried to look contrite and empathetic, but I wasn’t. They’d had cars burnt. Cars that would probably be replaced today. A minor inconvenience for them. They had insurance. They also had people on the payroll who’d deal with that annoyance for them. They wouldn’t be phoning companies or getting quotes, organising salvage and recovery. That was beneath them. So why should I feel sorry for them when all they’d done was fuck us over? They deserved a bit of payback. Unbeknown to my parents, they weren’t grieving Brodie like we were. They’d moved on.
Suddenly, I felt tired of the scrutiny being thrown my way. Mum had sensed something wasn’t right, and I wasn’t ready to discuss it. I certainly wasn’t prepared to tell them about my little visit to the Lockwoods yesterday, or my own crazy blow out at the Hardy’s garage.
Shit.
I’d caused criminal damage, hadn’t I? Did that mean the police would suspect me of burning those cars? I mean, I had an alibi. I was at home all night. But I also had a motive. A pretty fucking big one.
“I need some fresh air,” I muttered, suddenly feeling nervous. I grabbed a piece of toast from the rack so they wouldn’t pester me to sit down and eat, then I wandered over to the patio.
When I opened the door and stepped out into the garden, the icy chill made me shiver. The dew on the grass was a blanket of glittering frost, and I was thankful I had my Converse on this time.
I made my way to the bottom of the garden, the grass crisp and crunching delicately under my feet. I pulled my hoody tighter around my middle and hugged myself, trying to find comfort in my body heat.
And then I froze.
In between two fir trees, right where he liked to stand, was a collection of white pebbles, arranged to spell out the letters RIP. Underneath was a single white rose laid there like some sick homage. The fact that it was a white rose, like the one I’d thrown down to rest on Brodie’s casket, made me realise that he’d been there that day. He’d seen me. And he wanted me to know he had. This was another one of his sick and twisted games.