Chapter 125

Chapter 125
Chapter Title: The Dead and the Wounded

Reynolds

The old stables appeared through the trees, barely visible in the darkness. The weathered wooden walls blended into the shadows, making the building look like a dark blur against the night sky.

Ace didn't slow down. He drove the golf cart straight toward it. I pressed hard on my accelerator to keep up while Tate held on for dear life.

Then we heard another gunshot.

Ace jumped out before his golf cart had completely stopped. Tate and I slammed our brakes and followed him on foot.

The sharp smell of gunpowder hit me first. Then the smell of blood.

In the beam of our headlights, Divine and Archer were lying face down on the ground, surrounded by pools of blood. Two guns lay nearby—one beside Divine's limp hand, and the other a few feet away from Archer.

"Hastings!" I yelled. "What happened?"

"Divine shot first," she said, wincing in pain. "Can someone call a medic?"

She was leaning heavily against the stable door, pressing one hand against a bloody wound in her side. In her other hand, she still held a gun.

Tate rushed toward Divine and dropped to her knees. She checked for a pulse, keeping her fingers against Divine's neck for several seconds. Then she slowly shook her head.

"She's dead."

Ace didn't seem to hear her. He ran straight toward Archer.

"Archer!"

He dropped to his knees and rolled his brother onto his back.

Archer's eyes fluttered open. A wet, gurgling sound came from his throat, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

"Easy, brother," Ace said, his voice cracking. He pressed both hands flat against the bullet wound in Archer's chest. "You're going to be okay. I promise."

Archer's eyes moved frantically toward him. His lips parted, forming words.

Ace leaned closer, his ear inches from his face.
"What?"

Archer tried again, but I couldn't make out the words.

Ace's face darkened. Whatever his brother had whispered, it had reached him.

Suddenly, Archer's hand fell limp in the dirt and his eyes went still.

"Archer, stay with me." Ace shook him. "Archer, no. You can't die. Archer, please." He shook him some more.

"Archer, no... no... no..."

Ace's expression darkened further as he stared at his brother's body. The grief turned into pure anger.

He slowly lifted his head and looked toward Hank.

Hank was sitting several yards away, his back against the stable wall. Blood soaked through his shirt.

Kimberly was beside him, pressing both hands against his wound. She looked nothing like the polished woman I've known her to be.

Her blonde hair hung in tangled, matted strands around her face. Dirt streaked her skin. Dark circles hollowed out her eyes.

She was wearing an ivory slip dress—the same dress Emma had described her wearing the night she was abducted. It was filthy now, torn in places. Her bare arms were covered in scratches.

Then I noticed her wrists. Purple bruises circled them. Ligature marks. My eyes moved to her ankles. More bruises.

Emma and Cole were huddled together a few feet away. Emma was sobbing loudly into Cole's shoulder. Cole had his arms wrapped around Emma as though he was afraid to let her go.

They had the exact same marks around their wrists.

All three had been tied up.

All three of them had been prisoners.

Then Ace stood, slowly, his hand disappearing beneath his jacket.

Every instinct in my body screamed at me.

My hand went to my weapon. "Whoa. Easy now."

Ace pulled out a handgun. He aimed it directly at Hank.

"Ace," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Put the weapon down."

He didn't even look at me.

"I'm going to make you pay, you little brat!"

Tate drew her weapon without hesitation. "Listen to Reynolds, Ace."

"Ace!" I stepped forward, drawing my weapon out. "Stand down. Now. You don't want to do something you'll regret."

He didn't look at either of us. His jaw clenched as his eyes remained locked on Hank. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Hank struggled to sit upright. "Ace, none of this was supposed to happen." His breathing was ragged. "None of this was my fault." He tried to push himself up. "I didn't expect any of this to happen."

Kimberly grabbed his shoulder. "Don't move. You're hurt."

"Fuck you, Hank. You're not going to get away with this," Ace snarled.

His finger settled against the trigger and time seemed to stretch.

I saw the tiny movement of his finger. The comviction in his eyes. The barrel of his gun shifting toward Hank's chest.

"Ace, don't do it!"

He fired. I fired at the same instant.

Two muzzle flashes erupted in the darkness.

Kimberly threw herself against Hank. The bullet meant for him tore into her arm. She cried out, collapsing against him.

"Kimberly!" Hank cried out.

At the same moment, my bullet struck Ace in the shoulder. He staggered backward, but he didn't stop. He raised his gun again, aiming right back at them.

"Two birds, one stone," he muttered under his breath.

Another shot rang out from the direction of the stable.

Ace's head snapped backward and he dropped to the ground, the gun slipping from his hand. He landed right beside his brother.

For a moment, nobody moved. The clearing was completely silent.

I holstered my gun and looked at Tate, waiting for her to do the same. But her weapon remained trained on Hastings.

Hastings clutched her bleeding side and held out the gun, handle first.

“I got this from Hank,” she rasped. “Now where the hell is that medic?!”

“We need a medic. And hurry,” I said into my earpiece as I took the gun from her.

I looked down at Hank. He stared at Ace’s body, then at Archer, before his eyes finally settled on his mother. His face was pale, his eyes wet with tears.

But then I saw it.

A faint smile touched his lips.

It lasted less than a second. Then the pain returned, and he winced.

For the first time since I’d known him, Hank Williamson looked more like a man than Divine’s little boy.

And somehow, that was more terrifying than anything I’d seen before.

Sirens sounded in the distance, growing louder through the trees.

Tate moved quickly toward Kimberly. "I'm going to put pressure on your wound. We need to stop the bleeding."

Emma was crying hysterically now. Cole held her tightly, whispering soothing words as he tried to calm her.

Hastings leaned her head back against the stable door, breathing through the pain.

And I just stood there in the middle of the crime scene, holding the gun Hastings had given me.

Divine was dead. Archer was dead. Ace was dead.

Three more people were wounded.

Despite everything we'd uncovered that night, I still had a nagging feeling that we didn't know the whole story.

I'd thought tonight would finally give us the whole picture.

Instead, I stood beneath the cold moonlight, surrounded by blood and broken bodies, staring at a puzzle that somehow made even less sense than before.

Something was missing.

Something that would make it all make sense.