by A. J. Logan
“‘All’?” Bryce asks, glancing to the door Kyle just exited. “You still don’t know what happened for sure.”
“I know exactly what happened. Noah called me the night before he died. He found out what was really going on around here and it got him killed. I’m done playing around. They’re all guilty. It’s time for everyone to pay.” Part of me had hoped something would show me Sadie was innocent, but there’s no way she’s not involved or at least aware. Tossing some cash on the bar, I walk out and head to my car. Yanking the STI’s door open, I drop in as Bryce’s hand catches the door before I’m able to pull it shut.
“Dylan, talk to me. Don’t run off and do something stupid that will get you killed too.”
“It’s not me you should be worried about.” Jerking the door closed, I hit the push-button starter as the engine revs to life, then speed away. My foot presses the gas pedal to the floor, speeding down a road I know I shouldn’t take, but one that will end with justice for Noah. It’s time to unravel each person responsible for what happened to my brother from the inside out, regardless of how small of a part they played. And I know exactly where to start—the common source. Sadie.
21
Sadie
Stirring in bed, I reach over to the nightstand to grab my phone, but it’s not there. Feeling around on the floor, I come up empty-handed. It must be in the bathroom, or maybe the kitchen. I was so tired after my shower I fell right to sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up in the bed, glancing to my bedroom window. Thankfully, it’s still dark outside because I’m not ready to face the day yet.
Throwing the quilt off my legs, I slide off the bed and head to the kitchen. I don’t spot my phone on the counter, so I open a cabinet and pull out a glass before quickly filling it with water from the faucet. Taking a big gulp of water, I notice 2:44 flashing on the oven. Setting the cup on the counter, I make my way down the hallway. Just as I’m reaching for the bathroom door, a harsh grip seizes my forearm and shoves me forward against the wall. A strong hand covers my mouth, and fighting against the relentless hold, I attempt to scream, but a solid body presses against me, holding me prisoner as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Don’t scream,” a familiar low voice says in my ear.
Dylan. Every muscle in my body goes rigid. The minuscule relief I feel at it not being a strange lunatic is short-lived when my mind is flooded with questions about the familiar whacko. What is he doing here? Why is he in my house? Where’s my dad? Has he hurt him? The nuisance who’s bugged me is fully freaking me out now. Battling against his solid hold, my words are smothered out by his hand covering my mouth.
“Stop fighting me, Sadie.”
How the fuck am I supposed to do that when the psycho is holding me hostage in my own house? A few more of my muffled curses are drowned out by his hand as I finally go still, other than my chest quickly rising and falling.
“Good girl.” His smooth, calm voice pisses me off as I jerk my face away from his hand as he removes it.
“Let me go.” I resume my futile effort to get my hands free from his grip. One of his hands pins my wrists together behind my lower back, and his chest pushes against my shoulders, forcing my cheek against the wall. His hand finally releases my wrists as he shifts back, grabbing my hips to spin me around. My back is pinned against the wall as my hands push at his chest, unsuccessful in my attempt to get away from him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m gonna show you.” His menacing tone sends an alarming chill down my spine. I’m not so sure I want to know what’s going on in his twisted mind. I don’t want to think he’d hurt me but why else would he be here.
“Get your hands off me. Now.” My voice is as stern as it can be when I’m staring into the eyes of a nutcase who’s pinning me against the wall.
His hand lifts, moving towards my face. I flinch, quickly shifting away from his touch, and his hand halts for a second before slowly moving to my cheek, his thumb rubbing over my skin. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sadie.”
The night we met on the side of the road flashes through my mind—he’d told me the same thing. “I didn’t trust you the first time you said that, and I sure as fuck don’t believe it now. What are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”
Tenderly rubbing along my jawline, his eyes drop to my mouth as he says, “I know everything about you, I’m guessing even more than you know about yourself.”
“I doubt that.”
“Come with me and I’ll show you.” He steps back, allowing mere inches between us. When I don’t make a move, he snakes his fingers around my elbow, moving to pull me along as he walks down the hallway. I attempt to jerk away, but he halts, turning to me. “I’m not asking. You’re coming with me.”
“No, I’m not.” My shaky words aren’t any more convincing to him than they are to me.
“Trust me when I say you’re gonna want to see this.”
“‘Trust’? How can I trust you?” The smugness is gone from him as he steps to me.
“You trust him.” The words sound like an accusation that I’ve already been found guilty of—although I have no clue what the hell he is talking about.
“Who?”
“Either come with me or I will make sure every person you care about, including Frank and Levi, pay the price.”
“How do you know their names?” Looking into his callous eyes, I suddenly feel like I’ve never experienced a real moment with Dylan. From the annoyances to the kindnesses, I’m questioning every second I’ve been in his presence. “Who are you?”
“Finally, you’re asking the correct question.” Turning, he doesn’t say anything else. His hand grips my elbow, leading me out of the house as I woodenly follow. His threat may be empty, but I’m not willing to wager Dad or Levi on a hunch.
Opening the passenger door of his STI, he releases my arm as I stand and stare at him. “Get in.”
“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”
“The truth, and you’re the key to finding it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ll explain the details if and when you need to know.”
“I need to know now. Why should I get in the car when you won’t even tell me where you’re taking me?”
“Because if you don’t, you’ll regret it.”
Infuriating. He’s absolutely maddening. All he’s done since the moment he walked into my life is twist and turn my mind, body, and soul. “I hate you.”
“Good.” He puts his hand on my lower back, guiding me into the passenger seat. Pulling out the seat belt, he hooks it as he hovers over me, his lips near mine. “If you run, I will find you. I will always find you.”
“Well, that sure makes me feel so much better.”
“You never know … someday you might be hoping I find you.”
“Not a fucking chance.”
His lip curls into a smirk as he shifts back, shuts the door, and swiftly walks around the car before dropping into the driver’s seat. He wastes no time starting up the STI, the engine rumbling as it cuts through the stillness of the night.
How did I get here? Why is this happening? And more importantly, where are we headed? Watching out the window, the familiar landscape of my hometown flashes by. It’s only minutes later when he pulls into a parking lot, puts the car in park, and looks over to me.
“We’re here.”
Without looking I already know where we are. “Why are we here?”
“The truth, remember?” He gets out of the car and walks over to my door. I step out, my eyes searching across the street—scanning my dad’s auto shop. The garage is usually dark at night, but there’s a light on in the farthest bay away from the road.
“Dylan, what’s going on?” The words leave my mouth as a breathless whisper.
He doesn’t say a word, simply looks to me, threads his fingers with mine, and slowly leads me across the deserted street. Walking behind the shop, I stumble a bit as a s
tick snaps beneath my bare foot.
“You good?” he whispers, looking to my feet.
“A pair of shoes would’ve been helpful.”
“Don’t tell me that little Sadie didn’t run around here barefoot, full of dirt, oil, and grease because I wouldn’t buy it for a second.”
“You don’t know me.” Although his guess is accurate. I’d spent more time at this shop—and usually barefoot and a complete mess—than I’d spent anywhere else as a child.
Stopping behind the structure, Dylan motions to the side of the building. “If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll be quiet.” He holds out his hands, motioning for me to climb onto the dumpster as he offers to help. None of this feels smart, but it’s a little too late to back out now. And I need to know what’s going on. What does Dylan know about my dad’s shop?
Placing my foot in his hand, he boosts me onto the metal dumpster then pulls himself up. He wordlessly offers to help me onto the roof, but I move past him, gripping the side of the metal building, pulling myself up. It’s not my first time making this climb. The area was supposed to be off-limits, but that never stopped Levi and me from sneaking up here and getting caught more times than I can remember.
As my hands clutch the scratchy metal, his strong hand presses my ass, supporting me as I attempt to gain my footing. It shouldn’t be this difficult since it’s a flat surface. Turning, I eye Dylan as he joins me on the rooftop.
“Keep your hands off of me.”
“I was just giving you an extra nudge.” His low, smooth voice infuriates me further. He’s enjoying this shit and my head is spinning with a million theories as to why we’re here … and none of them are good.
I fight every urge I have to yell at the asshole and instead whisper, “I didn’t need your help and never will.”
Dylan steps forward, moving his mouth next to my ear as he whispers, “Keep trying to convince yourself of that, Sadie Pie.”
My sharp intake of breath is the only sound as we stand on the rooftop. Even surrounded by darkness, his brown eyes penetrate straight to my soul. “How do you know that?”
“Like I said, I know more about you than you know about yourself.”
My mom is the only person who’s ever called me that. How the fuck does he know? “Stop it. Stop playing games with my head.”
He steps forward as I move back against the metal wall of the second level of the oversized garage bays. Pressing his palms flat against the hard surface, he leans forward, stopping just before his lips touch mine. “Is there something else you want me to play with?”
For a split second, I didn’t think he was going to stop until his lips were against mine. It would be a lie to say I hadn’t wondered what that would feel like, and I can’t say that I’m not still curious. But his disturbing behavior is a definite turnoff; I’m not into making out with my psychotic kidnapper while standing on the roof above my dad’s office. “You can play with yourself for all I care. Leave me alone, and go straight to hell.”
“Is that pent-up aggression because you don’t want me to play with you … or because you do?” His words tease me, pulling at my desire as my brain tells me to shut that shit down.
I don’t care how hot he is. He’s a demented asshole. Clenching my jaw, I glare at the idiot before me. If he wanted to physically harm me, he’s had way too many chances, though the unhinged fucker did break into my house. “Tell me why we’re here or this absurd venture into your twisted mind is over.”
“As you wish.” The mischievous tone is gone as he pushes off the wall and walks across the flat surface of the roof, stopping at one of the small rectangular windowpanes overlooking the garage bays lining the metal wall. When I don’t make a move to follow, he nods to the window, slowly lifts his hand to wave me over.
As I step in front of the window, he hunches down, bringing me with him as we peek through the corner of the window. Looking to the garage bay that’s lit up on the end, I spot an older model sedan and see my dad digging in its trunk. He pulls a spare tire out, dropping it on the ground, and props it against the bumper. None of that should be suspicious but it’s three o’clock in the morning, and I’ve been brought here to witness something. “What’s going on?”
“Just watch,” Dylan says, his eyes glued to my dad as I do the same.
Dad reaches in, unbolting what should be the metal base of the trunk but he lifts it out, pulling several small blocks of something wrapped in plastic. “What is it?”
Dylan doesn’t answer as we continue watching. Dad moves to the side of the car, removing the rear quarter panel where at least ten more blocks are tucked into a groove in between the side of the car.
“Dylan, please tell me what’s going on.” I plead, knowing the answer. It’s not that hard to figure out while Dad continues moving around the vehicle, efficiently disassembling and reassembling panel after panel, pulling out more and more blocks.
“Pills. Some prescription, some not, but all sell well on uni campuses.”
“You’re lying.” But I know he isn’t. My brain just can’t accept what I’m observing with my own eyes. Why would my dad do this? Everything with … Levi. Is my dad giving Levi drugs? Overlooking is one thing, but supplying him? Something is off. The person I’m watching is not my dad. This isn’t something he would do. Or would he?
“Tell that to one of your friends when someone slips a pill in their drink, or yours.”
My stomach turns at the thought as my fingernails dig into the hard metal surface of the wall. Why would Dad do this? How could he?
“I can’t …” I move to stand, trying to shake the thoughts out of my mind.
Dylan tenderly clasps my hand in his, entwining his fingers around mine as he whispers, “Sadie, look. You need to see all of it.”
Reluctantly, I open my eyes, peering back through the window into the place I’ve grown up. Suddenly, my once cherished space has a dark, heavy feeling engulfing it. That’s when I see the familiar build, the perfect slicked-back blond hair. Not a lock out of place, Kyle bends down, picks up a few of the blocks, and tosses them onto a metal workbench just next to the car as Andrew joins him. Pulling out a pocketknife, Kyle slices into the stiff plastic as tiny clear packets tumble out, all filled with different sized and shaped pills. Dylan was telling the truth. “Where did they get them from?”
“Across the border. I haven’t been able to find their main contact, but I know almost everyone who’s involved here. At least I think I do.” His insinuating tone catches my attention before his words.
He can’t be implying what I think. Slowly rotating to look at him, his accusatory eye confirms what I thought. “You can’t seriously think I’m in on this. I didn’t even know about it—hence my shock at what I’m seeing on the roof of my dad’s shop in middle of the night.”
“Why should I trust you when you won’t trust me?”
Slowly rising, I glare at him, feeling angry with him, my dad, Kyle, Andrew, Levi—all of them. But this insane moron is the only one I can take it out on at the moment. “I don’t give a flying fuck if you trust me. And you are dead wrong about one thing: you don’t know anything about me, because if you really did, you wouldn’t have to question if I had anything to do with that.” I point to the window where my dad is participating in the unthinkable along with my idiot ex. All of them can go to hell—Dylan, Kyle, Andrew, Dad—because there’s no explanation that would make any of it okay. Rotating, I start toward the edge of the building as Dylan’s fingers encircle my wrist, pulling me to him forcefully enough to make me crash against his solid chest.
“Sadie, you can’t walk away from this … or me.”
“You haven’t given me a reason to trust you. Not one.” I remain still, pressed against him as he looks to me. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, his face covered in uncertainty. That’s a look I haven’t witnessed from him … ever. The usually maddeningly arrogant guy is nowhere in sight, but I’m sure he’ll return soon enough, h
e always does. That prick shows up everywhere I go—work, school, on the side of the damn road, and now not only my hometown, but inside my house in the middle of the night. “And I’m not walking away. I’m going to find out what the hell is going on in there. That’s not my dad. That’s not who he is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” No. As much as I want to believe I’m absolutely certain, I’m not. Dad has been so distant and different since Mom died. Since the life I knew was flipped upside down.
“Then why are you crying?” Dylan slowly raises his hand, gently brushing his thumb across my cheek.
The sweet gesture, conflicting with how we’d come to be standing in this very spot, throws me off kilter. “Don’t touch me.” I shift to walk away, but he holds me against him.
The uncertainty is gone. It’s replaced with frustration as he commands, “You’re not going in there.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No. You’re not. No matter how much of a pain in the ass you are, I’m not willing to wager your life on sending you in there until I know who else is involved.”
“They wouldn’t hurt me.” It comes out as a measly squeak but that’s just because everything is happening so fast, right? “Why did you bring me here? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because you’re going to help me unravel the web until I find every single person responsible.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry about that.”
My dad. No matter what is going on, I don’t like the thought of my dad being hurt. “Don’t hurt my dad. I can talk to him.”
“No. In fact, if you talk to him or anyone else about this, Frank and Levi will pay the price. Severely.”
Would he? His stern tone makes me question if he actually would follow through on the threat. “So, you don’t want ‘them’ to hurt me, but you will.”
“I said I won’t hurt you.”
“Well, if you hurt them, you hurt me.”
“We both know it won’t come to that.” His voice lowers, his hand slips under my tank as he smooths his palm over my lower back. He continues, “Because as much as you keep fighting to resist me, you want this as much as I do.”
