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I didn’t let go. I squeezed until I thought something in his neck might break.
I wanted the destruction.
Not just of him.
In that moment, all I wanted was fire. I wanted the sweet pain to consume everything. I wanted it all to go up in smoke.
Strong arms wrapped around my neck and yanked me backwards. I didn’t let go of Clint’s neck, so he got dragged to a sitting position before they could pry me off him. I was yanked up to my feet. I shook out of their grasp and turned.
Tristan was watching me with no emotion in his eyes. He shook his arms out, straightening his shirt and jacket. His voice was low enough that only I could hear, even though the entire diner had gone deadly silent, except Clint’s hacking coughs and Zoe and Charli’s murmured words to him.
“You really want to murder someone and ruin your life tonight, Cassian?” Tristan’s tone said the question wasn’t rhetorical. Almost like he was offering me the chance to go back and finish what I’d started.
I clenched my jaw, then looked back to Clint and the small crowd of people gathered around him. I almost didn’t even notice Charli rushing toward me. I could’ve stopped her from slapping me, but I let her this time. I heard the sound before I felt the hot sting on my cheek.
Her eyes blazed with tears as she stared up at me. She slapped me again.
Then again.
Finally, Zoe came to stop her from hitting me more—probably only because she was worried I’d try to hurt Charli next.
I waited, watching the emotions play across Charli’s face.
“Why? What the hell did I ever do to you? You keep talking like I ruined your life? My mom died and we lost everything. We left Silver Falls and my life has been shit ever since.” She shrugged free of Zoe’s arms and gave me a shove in the chest. “What did I do to you?”
I felt the realization sink in. Did she really not know? Was it possible she didn’t remember, or that nobody had told her?
“What do you remember about the night of the fire?” My voice was cold and emotionless.
“Enough.” The tears that had been threatening to fall streaked down her cheeks now, but she wasn’t wiping them or looking away.
“Tell me,” I grated.
She took a few steadying breaths, then spoke. The entire diner was listening, but I didn’t care. From the look on the face of the owner, he was calling the police on me, too. I had no doubt my stepfather would massage that problem with his wallet and found myself failing to give a shit.
“I remember waking up because I was coughing.” She spoke slowly, just louder than a whisper. “My door handle was so hot it burned my hand, so I used my blanket to go into the hallway. There was so much fire… I went to my parent’s room. The floor was on fire. It didn’t make sense at first, but it was the floor. Like grass made out of flames, I remember. And on top of it all was my mom’s bed. She was right there, and I was too scared to go to her. Too scared to leave.”
She stopped, staring at something distant.
“And then what?” I prodded.
“That’s enough,” Zoe said. “You’ve done more than enough, okay? Just leave us alone and wait for the cops to come arrest your ass.”
“It’s enough when I say it is,” I snapped. “What else?”
Charli glared, but continued. “I remember wondering where dad was. I found out later he’d fallen asleep on the couch, watching TV. He couldn’t get to the stairs because of the flames. Then I heard someone calling for me to come with them, and I don’t remember anything else. I guess I blacked out.”
“Who called for you?”
“I don’t remember. A firefighter, maybe? All I know is dad packed me into the car as soon as we left the hospital. He took us out of the state and said we should never look back. That’s all I know.”
I stared in disbelief. She really didn’t know.
“You never wondered which firefighter might live close enough to get there so quickly?”
Charli looked confused for a few seconds, then her eyes went wide and fresh tears spilled out.
Before she could say anything, blue and red lights flashed through the windows, highlighting the inside of the diner. I took a few steps back, shaking my head, then headed out to meet the cops.BeforeI tried not to make too much noise when I came inside, but my dad heard me anyway.
“Bud? Is that you?” My dad’s voice rang deep from the living room, and I heard his footsteps coming.
There was no hiding it, then. I straightened my back and tried not to let the pain show. I may only be seven, but I could act like a man, too.
