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We stand on the front driveway, clear of the flames as we watch them spread and begin to consume the entire mansion. It happens faster than I would have expected. I guess the gasoline is to thank for that.
Scar closes her eyes and takes a step closer to the burning building. Not close enough to be in danger, but enough to feel the heat press against her skin. She closes her eyes as we all watch her in awe. A million pounds lifts off her shoulders as she takes deep breaths, the sound of shrill screams in the background.
A single tear trails down her cheeks and I know it’s not for the demons we finally put to rest but for the girl she used to be, the broken woman she’s been all these years. It’s time to say goodbye to both of them and become a new version of herself. One that is all the shattered pieces of her history, the deadly and vicious fragments all come together in a beautiful mosaic of loss and pain and hope and strength and love. Someone she never thought she could be. Healed but still dark. Whole but with both jagged and softened edges. A fearsome force to be reckoned with. A leader of a bloodthirsty gang. A loving mother. A cherished friend. A hot-as-fuck wife.
“Luca, do you have the photos?”
He hesitates at the shake in her voice, but caves as he hands a handful of photos to her. She smiles as she takes them and without even looking at the contents she wraps her hand around them and walks up to the flames and tosses the last of the evidence of that night into the fire.
Truly letting go.
The moment is broken as Declan shouts, “We need to move.”
Panic flashes across Scar’s face as we turn to find Charles unconscious in his arms. Fuck. He was even worse than we thought.
“He’s lost too much blood,” D explains as he rushes to the ambulance idling in the drive. He pushes the EMTs out of his way as he carries Charles’ limp body and carefully drops him onto the gurney. It’s a new side of Declan as he begins calling out orders to the EMTs who are quick to jump into action, getting the right blood type and hanging a bag as Declan inserts an IV. Noah wraps his arms around Scar. “He’s going to be okay, baby girl.”
“He is,” Declan vows. “But we need to get to the hospital so I can make sure he doesn't have any internal bleeding and can get him stitched up properly.
The familiar cool mask of control slips over her features. “Let’s move,” she agrees, giving her own orders. We’re quick to follow her instructions, splitting up to finish this job and tie up the remaining loose ends. Noah follows Joe and the others to take care of the final pieces, while the rest of us climb into the Escalade and follow Declan and Charles to the hospital.
I stick close to the ambulance, running through lights with them as Scar sits anxiously at my side. She needs to be there with him. I finally understand it. Even feel it myself. Against all odds he’s weaseled his way into our family.
* * *
“Well, you look better,”Scar teases as soon as we walk through the door into the private room Declan had prepared for Charles.
He flips her off, but his lips twitch. He really does look much better than when we last saw him. The color is back in his face, and while he’s moving carefully, at least he’s moving. “Who needs a gallbladder anyways?”
Declan sighs a huge sigh from the doorway. “You would have been able to keep yours if you had gotten help right away.”
“And miss the fireworks? No way.” He grins as Scar squeezes his hand and leans over the bed to kiss his cheek.
“I want to yell at you, but I happen to agree with you.” Of course she does. Little minx would have made the exact same decision if she had been the one hurt. As a matter of fact, she didn’t make it out of that house without her own injuries. A few bruised ribs should have slowed her down at least a little bit, but unfortunately for all of us that has not been the case in the slightest.
Charles adjusts his bed to a less reclined position and Scar helps him adjust the pillows behind him. “How did the rest of the plan turn out?”
He lasted longer than I thought he would. “Have you turned on the news?” I ask and when he shakes his head I grab the remote and turn it on, quickly flipping through every major news network to show the story that’s gripped the nation and rocked the people to their core. I pause at the last one as a female reporter runs through the story.
Answers to the almost decade-long mystery have been found in the ashes of the estate behind me. Many will remember the horrors that took place in a similar estate in this very same town eight years ago now. The tales of the Fallen Prom Queen and the Lost Princesses has haunted this nation since almost the entire Devereaux family was killed in a murder/suicide after the father raped and abused the eldest daughter. The mystery only grew stranger as the heiress survived the fire that took her family and childhood from her, multiple surgeries, and months in the hospital only to disappear from her foster home just weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday. Conspiracies have run wild with what could have happened to her and where she is now. Finally, we have some answers and they’re even worse than the public ever could have imagined.
I turn it off and Charles beams at Scar. “Everyone knows.”
She nods. “They died and will be remembered as the demons they are. Our tracks are covered and the public believes it was guilt that led them to their own suicide pact.”
“They stabbed each other fourteen times and shoved dicks down each other’s throats?” He eyes her sarcastically.
She shrugs with a familiar savage smile. She’s the confident badass I met in Steel Roses that first night, but as she holds my hand and leans against me, she’s also the Letty that lit up every room she walked into. Light and dark in equal measures. Flames and shadows and ice. A true goddess.
“Coroner reported the bodies lost to the fire and dental records were used to confirm the identities.”
Charles huffs and I pull Scar closer to me, enjoying her warmth. “How much of the bodies were left?”
“Enough for our contact to call her up and give her shit for her twisted mind.”
Charles laughs and instantly regrets it as he winces. “Suicide notes?” His voice is strained as he tries to adjust his position in the bed to ease the pull from his stitches.
“Noah took care of all that,” Scar says, waving him off. “We knew everything would be lost to the flames. He took care of everything, even evidence prior to us setting the fire.”
