A sob crawls up my throat and shakes my entire body when my eyes drop to the scene at their feet. Thick crimson liquid melts away the snow, oozing like strawberry syrup on a sundae.
So much blood.
My stomach cramps, and I puke.
As I wipe my mouth, I see the ax fall from Brantley’s shaking hands, and he collapses onto his knees. He lowers his face to the ground with a quiet moan, and he starts to cry harder.
I can’t help it. I cry with him.
Seb walks over to me and pushes my wet, tangled hair from my face. I try to focus on his bright blue eyes, but everything is so fuzzy. “It’s okay baby,” he whispers, holding me close. “He’s gone now. He can’t hurt you.”
But his words are like a knife in my heart, and I shake my head vehemently.
“No,” I say around a sob. My words are muffled, but I know Seb hears them when his body stiffens. “That wasn’t Dennis. It was my stepbrother—Dennis’s son, Nedry Abrams.”
I was almost hypothermic,so the guys immediately made me go inside and take a shower to warm up my frozen body. Butthen I rejoined them and now the three of us sit together on the porch, staring at Nedry’s still form.
I don’t know how long it’s been. Despite the cold, we haven’t moved yet, though I did bring a wool blanket from inside to wrap around my shaking bodies. The porch light casts a dull yellow circle around us, and it makes me feel exposed, like we’re under a spotlight with a mysterious audience judging us from somewhere in the woods.
I’m in shock, though I feel like I should have a stronger emotional response than I actually do. Iamlooking at a dead guy—my stepbrother, no less.
Nedry and I didn’t have many interactions when Dennis inserted his horrid presence into my life. Nedry was older than me, and he would show up now and then to a dinner bragging about all the nefarious shit he used to do while working for the FBI. I wasn’t surprised when my mom told me he was canned. I didn’t see him after that. Honestly, I thought he’d left the country to escape prosecution.
“So,” B says, interrupting my thoughts. “I did that, huh?”
“You really don’t remember?” Seb asks.
“Not really. I just remember my feelings. I was so angry. I should probably put that on my list of topics to bring up with my therapist.” Seb snorts a laugh, and B’s gaze drifts back to the yard. “I—murdered—the guy.” His voice stutters around the word. “What do we do now? Who do we call?”
“The police,” I say, incredulously. “Detective Lin.”
B scoffs. “Like they’ve been helpful so far.”
Seb nods in agreement. “I’m positive my dad and Marcus have guys for this.”
“I’m guessing you don’t really want to bring in your brother.” Brantley taps his chin.
“I also hate calling in favors from my dad,” Seb says with a grimace. “We don’t exactly have the greatest relationship anymore.”
“So then our best option is…”
“Lincoln,” they say at the same time, grinning at each other like they're discussing their fantasy football teams.
I run a shaky hand through my hair. “Are you guys crazy? Aren’t we going to get in trouble for this?” I gesture at Nedry. “You can’t just kill people and not report it, and we definitely can’t just drag our friends into this mess.”
Seb looks confused. “What do you mean?”
“What do I—Are you serious right now? How are you both so calm? Am I having a stroke?” I stare at them with wide, panicked eyes. “Oh my God, I’m literally fucking an ax murderer.”
B and Seb exchange an amused look.
“We’re not putting anyone in danger, Fi,” Seb says, his hand interlocking with mine.
“Link’s family has a ton of money and connections. He can take care of everything so that Michaels won’t get investigated. We won’t be associated with this at all. It’ll just…disappear.”
Seb gives me a serious look. “Think about this, Fi. We have the means to take care of this. How helpful have the cops been so far? Do you think bringing in Flurry’s authorities or the state patrol will be any better? This murder complicates everything even more. This guy has been tracking us the whole time—across an international border no less.” Seb sighs. “You’re never going to feel safe. I think we need to get this taken care of and figure out how to take Dennis out on our own.”
I know he’s right. His words echo the train of thought I’ve had since I found the note back at the cabin, thoughmyplan involves the authorities.
