1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve

by Alexandra Ivy

  I shove that thought away. Because it’s occurring to me, sudden and undeniable, that I fucked up somewhere.

  I made Eli think I don’t trust him.

  “Remember when I came home from the Corps? And she punched me in the nose?”

  Eli freezes, and stares at me, his eyes wide and confused. “Yeah. Wha—”

  “That was when. When I fell for her. Before that, she was just my best friend, the third spoke in our wheel. She was just Hazel. The girl who helped me keep you and Nora happy and healthy. But then—fuck, Eli. She grew up. Four years is a lot of growing up. She’s gorgeous.”

  “If you want to fuck up our entire family because Hazel is hot, I swear to god—” Eli starts.

  “Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” I snap. And, surprisingly. He does.

  “Hazel—she’s always been special. You know, I’ve always had a different kind of relationship with her.”

  “I know you and her have always felt this absurd need to take care of me and Nora.”

  I nod. “Yeah. But what you don’t know is that Hazel—she was fucked up man. We both were. A lot more than we let on and for longer. She had nightmares until she was almost sixteen—she was still having them when I left, and the only reason I thought she’d be okay was because Delvin was there, and he knew how bad it could be. But she knew how dark I could get—and I knew how fucked up she was. And it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. Her baggage? My damage? It wasn’t hard to carry, when we were doing it together.”

  “You love her,” Eli whispers.

  I can hear the worry and the fear and something else.

  Something that sounds, impossibly, hopeful.

  I look at him.

  And nod. “Yeah, man. I do.”

  He’s quiet after that, and stays that way until we reach Gabe’s house.

  Because of course, that’s where we’re going.

  “It’s gonna take me some time,” he says, softly as I pull up behind Gabe’s ridiculous sunshine yellow VW bus. “But if you’re both happy. Just. Gimme some time to get used to it.”

  It’s better than I could hope for and I nod as he slips out.

  He unlocks Gabe’s door, while I sit in the Roadrunner, watching, and that alone tells me—whatever the hell is happening between Gabe and Eli, it’s serious and I’ve been blind.

  When Eli explodes out of the house, his face his pale and he’s running, almost stumbling as he does.

  He looks terrified and sick and furious. And I know. I fucking know.

  This is all tied back to the slaughterhouse, and Morningstar. To Scarlett and her whores.

  And Hazel.

  I know, before he says it.

  “Gabe’s fucking gone, Archer.”

  Chapter 28

  After I leave Michael and John and Hanna, I need the familiar. So I head to Mama’s, and if I’m pale and shaky, I have almost thirty minutes to get my shit under control before I’m there and she’s demanding to know what the hell is happening. Halfway back to town, I turn on my phone.

  The twins parting words are still chasing around, like fucking taunts, in my head.

  Tell the rest of the story.

  And

  Gabe is fine, but what happens next is on you.

  And

  We don’t mind dirty hands. Don’t test us.

  The thing is that I don’t think they wanted to kill anyone else. Hanna, sitting on the edge of the pier, had looked more tired than anything.

  My phone lights up, going crazy with messages and I feel my heart drop as I get the gist of them.

  Eli and Archer are furious and worried and Jase has clearly sent them more info than I have.

  The last message stops my breath.

  Eli: Where the fuck is Gabriel?

  So the cat’s out, then. They know Gabe is missing and that I’m keeping secrets. I feel a flash of gratitude, for that.

  I should tell them I’m fine. Have them meet me.

  But. There is one last person to talk to, before I can tell this story. So I swipe the screen, dumping the messages to be dealt with later, and dial the number Michael sent me before I left. “King,” a crisp, whiskey warm voice almost purrs.

  “Seamus King,” I say and I hear the way he shifts, on the other end of the line. “I’d like to sit down and talk with you.”

  “And who is this? Why should I give a shit what you want?”

  “Because right now, I’m a journalist writing an expose, and all I’ve heard is the shit the McGreys have to say. I thought I’d give you a chance to defend yourself, first.”

  “And why should I not kill you and the story?”

  I breath a laugh. “King. You aren’t that stupid. And you aren’t who I want. So meet with me and give me who I want.”

  There’s a moment when I think he’ll refuse. But King is a businessman.

  “Who are you going after?” he asks, instead of agreeing.

  “I want Scarlett Materson.”

  A low laugh ripples across the line, and I shiver. The twins didn’t tell me enough about King to make me comfortable. They told me just enough to know he’s dangerous and I need to be very careful.

  “I’ll meet you in forty-five minutes.”

  “The Central Green,” I interject and he hums an acceptance. And I hang up.

  My fingers are shaking when I dial Archer’s number. Because I’ve lied to them. I’ve hidden so damn much.

  The nature of secrets is to come to light.

  “Where the fuck is he, Hazel?” Eli snarls, and I swallow.

  “Put me on speaker.”

  He spits a curse, but I hear the roar of the engine, and I say, clearly. “Archer, pull over and turn her off.”

  There’s silence from both of them, and then the rumble changes, as the Roadrunner slides to side of the road and he kills the engine.

  And then there’s silence, so deep and sudden it’s almost an ocean, something I can drown in and I want to.

  I want to drown in it, because I don’t want to say this. He will hate this.

  They both will.

  “Hazel, baby, I need you to talk to me. I need to know you’re okay.” I hiccup a laugh, because of course he’s worried about that.

  Of course he’s worried about me being safe.

  Archer is always going to be a caregiver. First and forever.

  “I know who killed Crystal Watson and her family. And Beth Griffins.”

  Beth matters, even if my brother and Archer don’t see how, yet.

  Stories and family and betrayal and secrets—all seething along under the surface.

  That’s what the County has always been.

  What it will always be.

  “What are you talking about?” Archer asks, his voice low and tight and angry.

  “They want something from me. It’s not illegal, so calm down. But I have to do this. I have to tell their story.”

  “Why? They’re dangerous, Hazel. Why the fuck wouldn’t you tell me?”

  “Because they threatened you. They said that what they did to Crystal, they’d do to you and Eli and Nora.” I take a breath, and then, “And they took Gabriel.”

  Eli makes a noise, all broken and hurt and I swallow hard. Oh, Gabriel.

  When this is over, and Gabe is safely home. I’m going to lock the two of them in a room together to sort out whatever is keeping them apart.

  “He’s fine, Lijah,” I lie. “They haven’t hurt him. They just need him to leverage against me. And I’m doing what they say—I’m bringing him home.”

  “No,” Archer snaps. “You get your ass to the house, and we’ll decide what—”

  “I have to go, Archer. Go over the information Jase sent you. I’m—I’ll be home in a few hours. I have to do this. They want their story told. After that, you can arrest whoever you want.

  But they want their story told. Let me do my job.”

  “Hazel,” Eli says, his voice this choked, desperate thing. “Hazel, please.”

  I ma
ke a soft shushing sound in my throat. “This isn’t Amy, Eli. Gabriel is going to be fine. We’re bringing him home.”

  He cries then, and I hang up.

  My brother has Archer and Archer will take care of him.

  But. There is another brother who needs—I mutter a curse and scroll through my contacts until I find it.

  There is a ring. Two. Three.

  Stubborn, reclusive bastard.

  “Hello?” The voice rasps across the line like thunder and falling rocks, all deep and authority and impatience.

  Aiden Delvin never did have much patience for anything beyond the Rayburn brothers and Gabriel and his photography.

  “Aiden, it’s Hazel Campton.”

  There’s a beat of silence and then, “What’s wrong?”

  Fair enough. He was also always too damn smart for his own good.

  “Gabriel. He—there are some people. They want me to do something for them. And I am.

  But they took Gabriel.”

  “Is he alive?” Aiden snaps, and I hear a voice in the background, a voice we both ignore.

  “Yes.”

  “I want to talk to him.”

  I hesitate, and Aiden snarls a curse. “You don’t have him?” “I’m working on it.”

  There’s a furious silence, long and tense and then, “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tomorrow at the latest.”

  “Aiden, you—”

  I hesitate. Because as much as I want to say he doesn’t need to come home. I know better.

  Gabriel is going through hell. And having his favorite brother by his side when he comes home—that won’t hurt anything.

  So I ask the question that is hanging between us, waiting to be acknowledged. “You haven’t been back in eight years, Aidan. Are you okay with this?”

  “He’s my brother, Hazel,” he says, his voice very empty. Like that is all that matters.

  Which is true enough.

  King is a small man with a neatly trimmed beard, an impeccable suit, and a black Rottweiler sitting next to him, watching me approach.

  “Ahh. I did wonder. It makes sense, that they would use you.”

  “My brothers are cops,” I say, softly.

  “You’ve enough of a reputation outside the County that you could be a threat, if you wanted to be. And in the County? Well. You’re a third of the Airplane Orphans. You’re a County favorite, darling.”

  “Why are they trying to bring you down?” I demand.

  And King laughs. “Do you really think that’s what they’re doing? Those three? What they hell would they do with the vacuum? Michael doesn’t want to run a criminal network like Morningstar. He just wants his sister happy and kept in a steady supply of drugs.”

  “Then what is this about?”

  “It’s about the mother,” King says, easily. “And about that fucking whore, Scarlett.”

  I lean forward, staring.

  “Tell me.”

  King studies me, for a long moment.

  And then he tells me everything.

  The story. It’s the story that twisted up everything. The story I wanted and didn’t know I was chasing, when I came home.

  And as I stare at it, blinking at the submit button.

  The County Gazette will publish it, if I send it to them.

  So will my old boss, at the e-zine back in Boston. Because the story is fascinating and intriguing and impossibly sensational.

  And true.

  So true. I hit publish.

  Chapter 29

  The thing about Green County is that it’s home. It’s not a small town—but it has that feel to it. Like everyone knows everything about everyone. We know who married who last weekend, and how long they dated before that. We know who fucked before they married.

  We know all there is to know. The good—Louise makes the best pie in the County, and has since her great grandma gave her the recipe. The bad—Marks Automotive is where you go to get a cheap car, but you’ll pay for it in repairs a week later, and everyone will gossip for months about what an idiot you are. The ugly—well. We don’t talk about the ugly. It’s abusive husbands and the mamas’ who take a little pill to get through playdates and dinner time, and the girls who give blow jobs to pass AP English and the boys who spike their girlfriends’ drinks at party.

  But that’s not all.

  Here’s the secret.

  Green County is no different from any other small town Americana you’ll find sprawled across the Heartland. It’s kind and generous and frustrating and under it all, there are a thousand secrets that no one will address.

  That is the truth of every small town. But ours more than most.

  Three days ago, four people were killed. The papers will continue parsing it apart, trying to tease out a reason.

  Some will say it was senseless violence.

  But some aren’t me. And I’m here to tell you a story.

  Once upon a time, there was a girl and two brothers and they were happy.

  I wish that is where this story ends. A simple fairy tale, as easy as it is short, and utterly unremarkable.

  It’s not.

  Nothing is ever truly without reason.

  A girl grows up alone, with only her brothers and their fumbling concern. A girl with demons and a deep need to be loved. To matter.

  This isn’t to say she was perfect. She wasn’t. She was beautiful, but cold and calculating and cruel.

  But children become the thing they are shaped into.

  Once upon a time, there was a woman. She was smart and hungry, and poor. And she made choices.

  She fought her way from a working girl in the streets of Kansas City, to be the favorite of her pimp. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted to be the power that moved pawns. She wasn’t happy as the pretty face on the arm of a powerful, dangerous man.

  She wanted his power. His danger.

  Green County is a small place. It’s not the kind of place that would seem like a spot for a criminal organization.

  Why do two women fight? Why does a place as small as Green County become such a valuable piece of a criminal empire?

  Why are four people killed so brutally?

  It’s like everything else in Green County. It’s family.

  Want.

  Family.

  Betrayal.

  Once upon a time, Hanna McGrey hated the mother who deserted her. She walked away from dangerous people, and took her brothers with her, and stole the drug trade of a powerful criminal empire, because she hated her mother.

  And all things have consequence.

  It was on a cold night, almost six months ago. Her brothers were out, dealing with their street dealers, while Hanna worked at home.

  She was alone.

  Strange in and of itself, because her brothers were almost obsessive in their diligence, keeping her protected.

  The attack came quickly, brutally quickly. Two people.

  Scarlett Materson. A dirty cop who vanished when her ties to the criminal empire came to light. There was speculation, that she ran the whores in Green County.

  What wasn’t speculation was that Hanna’s mother considered Scarlett a surrogate daughter.

  Another oddity—that the surrogate daughter of Hanna’s estranged mother would lead the attack on her.

  Scarlett took a few boys with her, and they tore into Hanna.

  The attack wasn’t sexual.

  That was the only concession they made for her.

  But when it was over, Hanna was barely alive. She had three broken ribs, a shattered wrist, her leg was broken in three places. Her face had been especially brutalized—her jaw shattered. She was concussed and had a ruptured spleen, a collapsed lung.

  She was dying.

  The message was simple.

  Back off.

  Scarlett and her boys worked for other people. And that was who Hanna’s brothers wanted.

  They were patient.

  They waited, while Hanna recovered, a slow fucking process—a
nd she wouldn’t. Not really. She wouldn’t ever be the kind of ethereal untouched lovely she had been, before the attack.

  And while they waited, they learned.

  Scarlett ran the whores in Green County. But the two people she answered to? Ran everything.

  Kathy McGrey. And Rusty Watson.

  You know his name, now.

  His daughter was in that house. So was her best friend—a young woman with a bright future and a tiny baby who will grow up alone.

  It looked, on the surface, like a home invasion. It was supposed to.

  It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Nothing in this town is ever simple, and John and Michael McGrey had never allowed anyone to harm their sister.

  Slaughtering Rusty’s family. Killing the mother of his illegitimate child. It wasn’t random.

  It was justice. The kind of fucked up justice that makes sense, in the world of secrets and crime.

  I wonder, if Scarlett is still alive. I wonder what hole she’s hiding in and if the McGreys will find her before they turn themselves in.

  A tiny part of me hopes that they will.

  Secrets and lies and family. That’s what makes up this County. What has always made up this County.

  The brutality we saw, this week. It was one family’s secrets and rage.

  I wonder if that will be the end of it. But I know. It’s not.

  Because secrets. They’re everywhere.

  And they’ll come to light.

  Chapter 30

  I’m waiting for it.

  Sitting in a booth at Mama’s. My phone is going off, alive with texts and fury from my brother and Archer.

  The story is bouncing out, further than just our little County. Jase is doing what he can, making it spread.

  The text doesn’t surprise me. Not really.

  Unkown: Meet us at the Black Prism. Bring the cops.

  Some of my tension eases. Mama Nora is standing near the table and I shiver under her hard stare. “You okay, Hazy Girl?”

  I remember when she first called me that. I was thirteen, and still closed off. Still refused to get close to anyone but Eli. Still lost in my own mind and my books, more than present here.