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Her words hung in the air, an apparent regret that seemed to thicken the silence around us.
“Avery,” I started, my voice shaking slightly, “You can’t blame yourself for this. None of us could’ve seen this coming.”
“But you’re always working so hard for us,” Avery continued, her voice growing stronger. “I feel like I’m not pulling my weight. I don’t help pay for things around the house. I don’t support your trail ride business. If I had been there, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
I reached out, gripping her shoulder firmly. “Avery, look at me.” When she finally lifted her tear-filled eyes to meet mine, I spoke again, with all the sincerity I could muster. “This is not your fault. The only one to blame is the man who did this, and he paid for his crimes. You’re my family, and I would do anything for you. Don’t blame yourself for what happened.”
She nodded slowly, taking in my words. We sat there, connected by our hands and shared pain. The night was young, and there were still countless words to be spoken. But for now, we sat together, finding comfort in the solidarity and support we provided each other. The road to healing was long and winding, but we would walk it together.
Avery, her expression troubled, glanced over at the flat-screen television mounted on the wall. “We should check the news. See if the Devils have already started their cover-up.”
Laura nodded in agreement. “Good idea. Something like this . . . six men dying after a bachelor party . . . it’s bound to make headlines, even if the Devils try to manipulate the story.”
A jolt of fear surged through me. The prospect of seeing the incident splashed across the news was both terrifying and oddly comforting. If the news was already out, then it meant the Devils had moved swiftly to control the narrative, which gave us some idea of their game plan.
Avery reached for the remote and switched on the TV, flipping to a twenty-four-hour news station. Images flashed across the screen, but there was no immediate coverage of the incident. An undercurrent of dread pooled in my stomach as we scrolled through channels, anxiously waiting for any snippet of news related to the events of that night.
Finally, we found a brief mention on a local station. The reporter talked about a tragic gas explosion at a private bachelor party on the outskirts of town, killing six men. The preliminary reports suggested all victims were from out of town, celebrating a bachelor party.
“Gas explosion?” Avery scoffed, throwing the remote onto the coffee table. “That’s their story?”
“It’s plausible, easy to swallow,” Laura said grimly. “For the general public, it’s just a tragic accident.”
I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. The cover-up had begun, and the Devils were playing their hand. It was horrifying to see the ease with which they manipulated the truth, turning a brutal act of violence into a tragic accident. But it also confirmed what Laura had warned us about. The Devils had power and influence, and they were going to use it to protect their interests.
Laura leaned back, her face pale, her eyes thoughtful. “If they’re going to these lengths . . . it means Declan is neck-deep in their operations. He’s not some fringe member.”
“More than that,” she added after a pause, her voice low, “they’re covering up multiple homicides committed by one man. It suggests . . . it suggests he does this often.”
Fear and revulsion danced across my skin at the implication. Could Declan really be a frequent executioner for the Devils? The quiet man who lived on the outskirts of the town, the man who had been my sanctuary in the storm, was he really a hired killer?
“Declan, a . . . a killer?” I asked, the words tasting bitter and foreign on my tongue. The man who had held me gently, who had made me feel pleasure in the wake of horror, had also dealt out death without blinking.
Avery’s face was stricken, her eyes wide. “That means . . . he . . . he must be their enforcer. That’s . . . oh God, Clover.”
Their words were a cold shock to my system. It was one thing to see Declan’s violence in person, quite another to consider that it was not an isolated incident. That he might kill again, that he had probably killed before.
“Yes,” Laura said, her tone grave. “Clover, you’re tangled up in something risky. But we’ll figure this out. Together.”
Despite the terrible revelation, I felt a thread of warmth at her words. At least I wasn’t alone in this. I had my sister and my best friend. Together, we might be able to navigate this impossible situation.
But the shadow of Declan, of the man he truly was, loomed over us all.
In the gloom of the room, I tried to shake off the chilling revelation. “Maybe we should just . . . leave. Start over somewhere else.”
But even as I spoke, the thought of my horses, the ranch, our home filled with memories of simpler times, it made my heart ache. How could I leave all that behind? Avery’s next words, however, caused me to shake with dread.
“Clover,” she said quietly, her face serious, “Declan . . . he’s obsessive about you. We saw it ourselves. If we run . . . he might find you. Track you down.”
Her words mirrored my own fears. The Declan I’d witnessed that night, his possessive declaration, his violent actions . . . there was a sense of dangerous obsession in it all. Could we truly escape his clutches? Would he let us go so easily?
“But we can’t stay either,” Laura added, her face taut with worry. “It’s too risky.”
I let out a deep, shuddering breath. Caught between a rock and a hard place, my mind raced to find a solution but came up empty. The reality of our predicament loomed large before us, the possible outcomes weighing me down.
A thought pierced through the uncertainty, causing my heart to jolt. “What about Carson?” I looked at Laura, her face reflecting the worry I felt. “You can’t just uproot him. His life is here.”
Laura sighed deeply, her expression distant. “But I don’t want him growing up in a town run by the Devils. I won’t risk him getting caught up in all this. We’re all in this together.”
