I swallow down the fear and say calmly, “I have no stuff, Wade. I don’t have anything of Jon’s.”
“Rook, listen to me, OK? You and those guys you’re with are the only ones who’ve had access to Jon, OK? So one of you has the shit they’re looking for. And let me just tell you, these people are not fucking around, OK?”
Each time he says ‘OK,’ the pitch of his voice raises, making him sound even more crazy, and my whole body begins to tremble, because I might not get out of this. Wade is not acting right.
“If you have it, Rook, you gotta tell me. Because they’ve got my mom, Rook. They’ve got my mom locked up on some fake-ass charges and they’ll send her to prison if I don’t figure out where this shit is. Do you understand?”
This snaps me back from the edge of fear and puts me on the offense immediately. “Am I supposed to give a shit about your
“I’m sorry about that. I tried to stop her, you know that. I tried to stop her from sending you back to the State. She just wouldn’t listen and she threatened to cut me off. I needed her help to race.”
“You were a grown-ass man, Wade. You were eighteen years old. You could’ve helped me if you cared one shit about what was happening.”
“Yeah, and you were underage, Rook. It’s called statutory rape, sexual predator-type stuff—it was a huge risk.”
He’s serious. This asshole thinks that saving me from living on the streets, from those crack-houses the fucking foster care people sent me to…
“What was I supposed to do, go to jail for you? That would’ve helped how? How would throwing my life away help you?”
“Oh, you poor, poor baby. And for your information, Jon was twenty-one when he found me. And he sure the fuck found a way to keep me.”
“Yeah, and look what that sick fuck was doing!”
“And you know who I blame for all those years, Wade? Just take one educated guess.” I stop to glare at him, the full depth of my hatred for everyone who ever met me as a child coming out, seeping through my pores like some hot sticky mess left over from all that sex I had with Jon as a teenager. All that filthy fucking sex that was not anything close to love. That entire relationship made me feel dirty, and unwanted, and useless, and… and… and
“You, that’s who,” I say in a whisper. “I blame you for all the terrible, horrific things that happened to me back in that house. All of it. It’s one hundred percent
“That wasn’t me, Rook. I had nothing to do with that. That wasn’t—”
“You are the darkness, Wade. You are nothing but my dark, disgusting past trying to suck me back in to a life of shame.”
“I just want to say I’m sorry, Rook. And please, just listen to me about this FBI stuff, OK? I need you to —”
“Get out!”
My scream is echoing though my head when someone knocks on my window and scares the fuck out of me. I take a deep breath and realize it’s Vic Vaughn. I roll it down and look up at him.
“Everything OK in here, Blackbird?”
I shake my head. “No, he’s bothering me. I want him to leave.”
Vic reaches into the truck and presses the unlock button. The other three Vaughn brothers appear, open the passenger side door and pull Wade out.
“Rook, listen to what I said, OK? Read those papers. They took my mom and they’ll take someone from you too. They will, Rook, you’ll see!”
Vic and I watch as the Vaughn brothers drag Wade across the street and throw him on the ground in front of a candle shop that’s closed for the night. “You want some help, Rook? Want me to drive you home? My brothers can follow us, make sure everything’s cool.”
My first instinct is to say, ‘no, thank you.’ But I stop the words and nod up at Vic. “I would really appreciate that, thank you.”
“Scoot over, Gidget,” he says with a smile as he pushes me into the passenger seat. “And I swear, you’d think one odd name was enough, but woman, you seem to have a collection of them. Hey, Vinn!” he calls out the window. “I’m driving Rook over to Spencer’s, you guys follow to keep an eye out for any more psychos.” And then he gets in the truck and I breathe out a huge sigh of relief.
Until I pick up the papers and see exactly what they say. I scan the stack quickly. All bad stuff. All the same stuff Gage was trying to tell me.
All stuff that can’t be true.
But maybe it is?
And then the fear comes back and it takes all my willpower not to collapse right there in the front seat.
Chapter Thirty-Two - ROOK
I stuff the papers into my backpack and listen as Vic calls Spencer, telling him we’re on our way. He gives a few curt responses to whatever Spencer’s saying, then holds the phone out towards me.
I turn my head and stare out the window, ignoring the phone, and Vic tells Spencer we’ll see him in thirty minutes. I have no idea what to think right now. I just need time to process all this information, make sense of it. Vic talks to me constantly as we drive down the dark and deserted road. I hate this road at night. It’s curvy and when it’s wet, like it is now, you can’t see the lines painted on the road. One side is the damn river and the other side is just forest. It creeps me the fuck out.
I catch Vic eyeballing the rear-view the entire way there, but the only other headlights behind us are his brothers. When we pull into the driveway Spencer and Ford are already outside waiting in the carport to stay out of the rain. Ford opens my door and pulls me out as Spencer talks to Vic.
“What happened?” Ford asks.
I’m not sure I should reveal all the FBI stuff, so I just say, “Wade.”
“Oh.” That’s all Ford says.
“Did you know who he is?”
“I know, Rook. I saw him hanging around up in Sturgis and Spencer filled me in on the missing pieces. Did you talk to him?”
I nod. “Yes, but I never want to talk to him again.
Great.
Ford sits down next to me and Spencer flips off the TV, taking the chair across from the couch. “So what’s up, Rook? You got something to tell us?”
I shake my head. “Nope, nothing. Wade showed up, I sorta lost it, end of story. I don’t want to see him again.” I stop to look up at Spencer. “Ever. I’m going to call the police if he comes near me again.”
“I thought this guy was your old flame or something?” Spencer asks in a low voice. “You sorta sounded like you’d like to see him again when we talked about it.”
“I was just depressed that day, reliving the past. Thinking about the good things when the only ones that