by James Tate
A chill traveled through me and I rubbed my arms. “That sounds ominous,” I murmured, and Beck just looked a bit … disturbed.
Seconds later, Jasper’s yellow Lambo pulled in behind Dylan, and both he and Evan hopped out.
“That was fast,” I commented, frowning. “Eddy okay?”
Jasper shot me a sly grin. “Uh, more than okay. She was tonsils deep in some preppy dick from Jefferson U and basically threatened me with castration if I tried to take her home.” He shrugged. “Guess she’s more like me than I realized.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fair enough. So long as she’s okay.” And not hooking up with Dante, that two faced, lying piece of shit.
“Come on,” Beck said, bringing our attention back to why we were all there. “You guys need to see something.”
He led the way into the dark graveyard, and I quickened my pace to catch up with him. Biting my lip to keep from babbling nervously, I wrapped my hand around his and snuggled into his side. Because, fuck, cemeteries were creepy at night.
Somewhere above us, an owl hooted, and I was embarrassed to admit a small squeak of fright slipped out of me. Beck chuckled softly before he tightened his grip on my fingers. His thumb stroked over the back of my hand, and I pushed all my focus into that touch, so I didn’t look at the shadow which could have easily been a zombie or vampire or something.
“Oh shit,” Evan breathed as we came to a stop, and I gaped.
I’d been so focused on the scary shit around the graveyard, I hadn’t noticed we’d arrived at Oscar’s plot. Or… what was left of it.
“What the fuck?” Jasper cursed, crouching down to take a better look. Not that he needed to get any closer. It was pretty fucking obvious from where I stood—someone had taken Oscar’s corpse.
“Who would do this?” I whispered in abject horror. The whole grave was dug up, dirt piled haphazardly on the neighboring plots, and the stained, silk lined coffin sat open.
Open and very empty.
“That’s what Delta wants to know,” Beck said softly, just barely hiding the grief all over his face. “That’s what I want to know. Why dig him up? Why now?”
“And what was in there?” Dylan added, pointing down at the small wooden box—also empty—which sat at the foot of the casket. “I don’t remember seeing that during the funeral.”
Jasper’s phone started playing Taylor Swift and everyone glared at him as he hurried to turn it off.
“Sorry,” he muttered, his cheeks flaming, “Eddy keeps changing her ringtone on my phone.”
Despite the current creepy situation, I couldn’t help but send out a bit of love for my fucked up best friend. Maybe the only person in my life not to betray me so far. It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, if my adopted parents were in on some nefarious scheme as well.
“Anyone else think it’s a pretty fucked up coincidence that the first time we visit Oscar’s grave since his death, it’s basically ransacked a few days later?” Evan asked as he paced around the open plot.
“First time?” I asked.
They all nodded. “We were here at the funeral, and then I’ve been back one more time,” Beck added. “But that was the first time we’ve all come together like that.”
“We weren’t dealing very well with it,” Dylan said softly, his voice filled with a dark anger that was even scarier than a cemetery at night.
And it had only been a few months, because Oscar died not long before my parents. Which was another fucked up coincidence I didn’t want to look at for too long.
“This has got to strengthen the murder argument, right?” I finally said, unable to look at the empty grave any longer. Instead I looked at my guys, right into each of their faces, letting that comfort me. “Someone came here for something. Taking whatever was in the box and the body, screams of a cover up. Someone didn’t want us to ever exhume his body, because there might have been evidence on it.”
No one laughed, or even offered up another plausible explanation; they all kind of seemed to agree with me.
“Is there any way to get the police investigation?” Dylan asked, turning to Beck. “I know you tried before, but we didn’t push very hard, because we weren’t sure there was anything to investigate.”
Beck’s eyes were that of a burning man. Furious. Hurting. Out of control.
“I let this slip through my fingers because I was too fucking afraid of what I might find,” he said softly. “But they didn’t let us have an open casket. The council declared that. So that police file might be the only place we get a good look at the body.”
Dylan nudged the box with his hands, only touching the very edge as he knocked it over. “I remember this from Oscar’s room,” he said. “He kept it on one of his shelves, I’m almost certain.”
It was definitely a memorable piece. Old and thick wood, with brass decals on the corners and in the center where it could press into a locking mechanism. At the moment it was open and filled with dirt, but there had to be something in there that was worth burying him with.
“Richard might know,” I said, knowing I couldn’t just avoid my creepy birth father when he might have answers we needed. “Or even Stewart.”
The five of us moved closer together, standing at the foot of his grave.
“First thing is the police,” Beck said without inflection. “Then we pay the Deboise estate a visit. Riley can enter and go about that place like it’s her own, and I plan on taking advantage of that.”
I shuddered. “As long as I don’t have to go there alone, I’m cool with that.”
Beck shot me a probing stare, and I tried not to let all of the fucked up mess that was my emotions out. I wouldn’t risk his life, not when Richard Deboise was such a fucking unknown piece of insanity.
“We’ll start tomorro—”
Dylan was cut off by Jasper’s phone ringing again, and he scowled down. ‘For fuck’s sake, Edith, could your timing be any worse.”
I pushed closer to him. “Was that her before as well?”
He nodded.
With a glare, I yanked his phone off him and put it on speaker. “Eddy, you okay, girl?” I asked.
A sob echoed down the line, and Jasper was immediately on high alert. His annoyance fading as worry took over. “Eddy, what happened?” he barked out.
“You—” she cleared her throat. “You all need to get back here right now. Some huge shit has gone down. Katelyn Huntley is dead, and they’re about to arrest Dante.”
The phone went dead, and we were all left staring at it for a few moments.
“Fuck,” I said in a rush before I basically threw the phone at Jasper and sprinted toward the cars. They caught up to me in seconds, all of their legs much longer than mine. Not to mention their fitness. We jumped into the cars, and Beck was just about on two wheels as he spun us around to get back onto the main road.
It wasn’t like I needed much push to have mad love for the Bugatti, but that night, when it got us back to the party house in minutes, I could have literally kissed her.
Before I could dash along the driveway, Beck wrapped his arm around me, and hauled me back to his side. “There is a killer out here,” he said. “Do not run away from me.” He spoke in the sort of soft voice I expected a serial killer would use right before they skinned their victims. It was low and deadly.
Scary as fuck.
We started up the drive and were joined by the other guys almost immediately. It wasn’t hard to figure out where everything was going down—there was a large crowd gathered around the side of the house, all of them being questioned by police.
“It was definitely the big tatted guy,” one chick was saying, tears streaming down her face. “He threatened her and said that he would kill her. We all heard it.”
Lots of others agreed, and I cursed Dante for his fucking big mouth. I might have been angrier at him than I’d ever been, but I hadn’t even had a chance to confront him about Catherine yet. I hadn’t given him a chance to explain what he was
doing. If I’d learned anything from my fight with the heirs of Delta, it was that there were two sides to every story, and sometimes hearing the other side, changed your perception.
Dylan and Evan started chatting with a police officer, one they clearly knew well, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. A force beyond my control was pushing me forward. Katelyn’s body was taped off, but they hadn’t covered her up yet.
“What happened?” I asked a chick who was pressed right against the yellow tape. From my angle, all I could see was blonde hair, spread out everywhere.
“Stabbed. Ten times,” she said, not even looking my way. “She might have been raped too. Her underwear is missing.”
“Doubt she even wears underwear,” I said, honestly. It was probably not nice to think ill of the dead, but … to be honest, Katelyn was a bitch, and I wasn’t going to pretend otherwise just because she was now dead.
“There’s Dante,” Beck said from behind me
“Where?” I asked, not seeing him.
My head was spinning as I tried to see between the police and medical people. Beck tilted my head to the right, and I gasped as Dante came into sight. Dante was framed by two burly officers, his hands cuffed behind his back, a stoic expression on his face.
Without another thought, I raced toward him. “Dante,” I called, and for the first time, something like pain crossed his face. He turned in my direction, and I couldn’t stop the tears. “Wait,” I called. “You have the wrong person. Dante would never kill her.”
For the first time I wasn’t quite sure that was the truth, but it didn’t stop me from defending my oldest friend.
The officers stopped and eyed me closely before their gazes lifted to meet Beck’s eyes. “She yours, Beck?” the younger of the two said.
I made an angry growling sound. “I’m a fucking person. I don’t belong to anyone.”
“She’s Delta,” Beck said over the top of me.
Both officers eyed me with new interest. “Why are you arresting him?” I said quickly. “You can’t have any evidence.”
“How about the threats he made toward the victim earlier in the night?” the young officer said. “Or the fact that he was found with multiple blades illegally concealed on him.”
“Were any of them the murder weapon?” I asked, almost terrified of the answer.
The officers exchanged a look, and I figured they weren’t going to tell me anything more, until Beck cleared his throat. They met his gaze again, and then immediately answered. “No. None of them match the blade marks, but we only have preliminary forensics. For now, Dante will need to answer some more questions down at the station.”
It took everything inside of me not to reach out and try and yank my friend out of their hands. “I didn’t do it, Riley,” he said, his eyes boring into mine. He was imploring me to believe him, and in this regard, I pretty much did.
“I know,” I said quickly. “We’ll get lawyers for you. Don’t say anything until they show up.”
Dante nodded. The officers started to lead him away again, and I would have faltered if Beck hadn’t kept me upright. Dante looked back. “I’m so sorry, Riley. So fucking sorry.”
I didn’t know what he was apologizing for exactly, but it was destroying me nonetheless.
“Dante,” I called, crumpling forward.
He was almost at the closest police car then, and I could only just see him when he shouted. “Stay away from Catherine. Don’t trust a thing she says—”
Anything else was muffled as he was pushed down into the back of the car.
I broke apart then, and it was only Beck’s arms around me that kept me standing. He held me while I sobbed against his shirt.
“Dante works for Catherine, doesn’t he?” I said, choking on the words.
Beck didn’t speak. “How long?” I said, pulling back, my hands twisted in his shirt front. “How long has he been working for her? From the start?”
Beck hesitated. “It would make sense. She probably never wanted to lose touch with you, just in case. Dante was the perfect mole. Who would have expected a kid to be a double agent?”
All a lie. Every fucking moment with Dante from the first time he “found me” in his neighborhood had been a lie.
But … could it all be a lie? He’d expressed real emotions to me more than once; demonstrated his caring. He loved me in his own way, I was sure of that.
He’d have to be a damn good actor if it was all a lie.
And maybe he was. Maybe it was naive of me to think that this was anything other than a careful ruse orchestrated by my fucking bitch of a birth mother.
Another way for her to control my life. To control me.
I was still holding onto Beck, staring up at him, tears filling my eyes. I wasn’t really seeing him though, stuck in my own head, as I tried to comprehend it all.
“What’s wrong with Riley?” Dylan asked from nearby.
Beck didn’t answer him, his dark gaze still on me, murder in his eyes.
“Riley,” Dylan said, closer to my face. “Snap out of it for a minute, because if you don’t, Beck is going to go postal and start hurting people.”
I swallowed hard, trying to stop the rapid in and out breathing I was doing—sounding like a dog panting. I couldn’t seem to get myself under control.
“Dante,” I choked out. “He’s been Catherine’s mole the entire time. All the fucking time. My entire fucking life. It’s all been a lie.”
How much more could Catherine take from me? How much more could she extract before there was nothing left inside?
Beck made a low rumbling sound, his chest and arms shaking, and I somehow managed to calm my own freak out, so I could wrap my arms around him. “It’s okay, Sebastian,” I said, using his name in an attempt to snap him out of it. “I’m okay. We’ll figure this out.”
His hold was rough, almost painful as he yanked me into his body. “It’s going to be okay, Butterfly,” he said close to my ear. “I promise you, Catherine will pay.”
He didn’t have to tell me that, I was already planning it in my head.
This time when I pulled the trigger, she would be the one in my sights.
31
Jefferson police station was not that large, nothing like the ones back in Jersey. It had a sterile, tiled sitting area at the front, a long desk with screens and bars, and a door that led back into whatever was beyond the sitting area.
I had started pacing ten minutes ago, much to the annoyance of the middle-aged chick behind the desk.
“Miss, if you take a seat, I will let you know when you can see your friend.”
I swung a glare in her direction. “I’ll sit down when you tell me something. For now, I’m pacing, okay?”
She shut her mouth and continued with whatever paperwork was in front of her. It was almost 4:00 a.m., and I’d been waiting here for two hours. Delta lawyers arrived just before us, and they were back there now with Dante. So far we hadn’t heard a thing.
“Riles, sweetheart, maybe we should wait at home. Meredith here will call us as soon as there’s news, right?”
Dylan turned his dark eyes on her, and she almost wilted. “Of course, Mr. Grant. I will phone the second I hear anything.”
Everyone was exhausted; I felt like I was literally dead on my feet. So much fucking stuff had happened today that it was hard to believe it had only been twelve hours since I was drinking champers with my friends and family to celebrate my eighteenth.
“Okay,” I finally agreed. “Our apartment is not far from here, so we can be back in a few minutes.”
Dylan, Jasper and Evan looked relieved. Beck’s expression hadn’t shifted in hours. He was still wearing a scary mask that gave nothing away and at the same time made me afraid to leave him alone. He was plotting something. Something big.
Shit was going to go down.
He held my hand as we left the station though, only letting it go so we could get into the Bugatti before he took it again. He parked nex
t to my butterfly, and I could barely look at her, because all she did was remind me of Dante. All of the times we took her out, raced her, won together.
All fucking lies.
Once we were inside, I convinced Dylan, Evan, and Jasper to go to their own apartments—they wanted to stay with me, but they needed sleep, and my couch was not big enough for the three of them. Beck never left, and I never suggested he should. We got ready for bed silently—I didn’t even bother to find pjs, just stripping down to my underwear, peeing, brushing my teeth, and then crawling into bed. I’d worry about dirty sheets tomorrow.
“Whatever happened to my gun?” I asked Beck as the darkness closed around us and we snuggled together.
“It’s in your drawer,” he said in that same expressionless tone. “Right next to you.”
I chuckled dryly, finally able to be amused by the way he just broke into my apartment whenever he wanted.
Rolling over, I faced him. “Talk to me,” I said softly.
He wrapped me into his arms, bringing me closer to him. “If you’d seen your face, you wouldn’t be wondering what’s wrong,” he said. “I’ve never seen devastation like that, not even when you found out about the Delta tapes.”
I struggled not to cry again, waiting until I could speak without sobbing. “Because I knew, deep down, that you guys didn’t really betray me. I knew that Delta forced your hand, but I was so mad that I got caught up in that bullshit, that I needed someone to be angry with. You four made an easy target.”
“Still think you let us off too easy,” Beck murmured, some of the ice melting in his tone. “We fucking deserved to grovel.”
I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me in the darkness. “You did grovel. And it hurt me to keep you all at arm’s length. Especially you, Beck.”
His lips found mine, and for a brief moment, I forgot about my pain and grief. Beck had a way about him. He could wipe everything else from my mind. Erase my worries and stresses with his simple presence.
But there was one niggling question that wouldn’t fade. Did Dante betray me completely? Was he actually working for Catherine from the start, or did she do something to force his hand recently?
