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Caleb’s attention doesn’t stray from the TV when I walk out the door and into a thick blanket of humid air. I follow the steps to the grass, then make my way toward the towering pines, smiling at the cheerful sound of birdsong overhead. It’s not much, but it feels like a tiny slice of peace in the chaos.
I trek farther into the woods, eventually taking a seat on a fallen trunk. Thoughts of Euan creep into my mind, of his uncle I’ve never met. Euan was always the nice guy. Safe, career-driven, if not a little boring, and the greatest irony of all: Even when I thought Euan was the good guy, I never felt with him the all-encompassing sense of safety I feel in Jude’s arms. I’m not sure if it’s screwed up, tragic, or a warped blessing in disguise.
The branches of the Dogwood tree across from me catch in the warm breeze, dragging my attention to something hidden in the shadow of the swaying limbs. I get up and cross the patch of grass, ducking behind the trees, then stopping when three headstones come into view. Frank Pearson, Claudette Pearson, and Grace Pearson. Are these people Jude’s relatives? I don’t even know his surname. Maybe the mini graveyard just came with the house. I read over the dates, and a sense of sadness washes over me when I realize Grace died when she was only eighteen. I pluck a dandelion from the grass, rest it on top of her stone, and then take a step back.
“Tor!”
My spine goes rigid before I whirl around. A frown mars Jude’s features as he strides toward me. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” he says, snatching my arm when he stops beside me.
“I was just walking.” I yank away from him, pissed at him for grabbing me.
His gaze softens a touch as it strays to the headstones behind me. Pain flashes through his eyes before they close on a heavy breath.
I know that pain well. The words “I’m sorry” sit on the tip of my tongue, but how many times did I hear that when my mum died? Plenty. It always felt hollow and pointless. Whoever those people are, I didn’t know them, and my words won’t mean anything. All I can say is, “I wasn’t trying to pry.”
He swipes a hand over his jaw before taking the dandelion from the headstone and chucking it to the ground. “Like I said, you shouldn’t be out here. Unless you want to end up like her.” Then he turns and storms back toward the house.
I wait for him to disappear around the corner of the house then slowly follow. Unless you want to end up like her...Did Tom kill Grace? The thought has fear clenching my heart in a death grip. If Tom killed her, then this vendetta between them has been going on for a long time, and I just stepped right into the middle of it. I’m relying on Jude to protect me, but he couldn’t protect her…
13
Jude
It bothered the shit out of me when I found her down at their graves. It’s a wound that’s still fresh, one I try to ignore by pushing the pain deep down inside. But that damn dandelion about did me in. It was too close, too personal... When Grace was little, she made little crowns out of them. Most of my summer days were spent with her trying to lasso my head with one. When she’d miss, I’d pick it up and put it on just because I loved her, and it made her smile. Damn memories for feeling like a hot knife in my chest.
I push back from my desk and take the dried magnolia from the side of the worktop. I’m not sure why I’ve kept it. I’m sure there is some underlying, fucked up psychology behind it, but I don’t care to understand it. I take my lighter and hold the flower over the ashtray as I set fire to it, wishing I could set fire to the memories of what that bastard did to my mother and sister. Beat them and tortured them, raped them. He filmed every gruesome detail and sent it to my father. My stomach churns, and I drop the burning flower into the glass bowl. For years, I thought the bastard was dead, and now that I know he’s not, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
I go to grab my burner phone to make a call to West, one of the crooked-ass Dayton cops I have trying to snuff the fucker out, but it’s not in my desk drawer. A quick search of my office turns up empty, then I remember I had it with me when I met Garcia earlier and left it on the kitchen table. The only problem is, when I get upstairs, it’s not there.
