“The Founders know she’s dead. And even though I know you can run with them financially.” I shake my head. “No amount of money you throw at the police will matter. I’m sure they’ve already informed the cops she’s dead and not to search for her missing body.”
“What do we do?” My mother asks James with tears in her eyes.
“I’m handling it,” I assure him. “I’ll get her back.” Turning to walk away, he grabs my upper arm.
“What are you going to do?” he grinds out.
“Fight him for her,” I say simply.
He blinks. “Fight?” His hand tightens on my arm. “That’s your elaborate plan to save my baby girl? Is to fight him? Like what? Till the fucking death? He deserves to be in prison for what he’s done.”
I don’t disagree, but I’m not a judge. He’ll walk, no matter what. Instead of telling him that, I rip my arm free from his hand. “I’ve done it before.”
“W…what? Hamilton, what have you done?” my mom stutters.
I look over at her. “I killed Nicholas. When I found him drugging her.” It’s time things come to light. I need to make sure James understands just how serious this situation is. I might have destroyed his cell, but there are others he can use to make one phone call that will fuck this all up.
My mother’s face turns white, and her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say anything this time.
My eyes go back to James. “Keep the cops out of it and let me handle it.”
He looks down at my mother, and she’s crying. I don’t have the time to console her right now. That is what her soon-to-be husband is for. He pulls her into his side and rubs her back. “What can we do?”
I look over in time to see Dax step up next to me. He’s been quiet. Really quiet. No doubt thinking of the hundred different ways he wants to kill Scout for letting Henley blame him for something Scout did.
“You can get us the original blueprints of Death Valley.” Monroe speaks.
James frowns. “How will those help?”
“That’s where Scout wants me to fight him, and if he’ll be there, Henley won’t be far.” No, he’ll want his doll very, very close.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
RYAN SCOUT
I LIE IN bed, taking a nap. Last night was a long night at Death Valley. I ended up doing two fights after getting rid of a body and dealing with Henley. I roll over and pull a pillow over my head to block out the sunlight blasting me through my windows when my cell rings.
“Hello?” I answer through a yawn, seeing it’s Steve.
“Dude, we’ve got a problem.” He rushes out. “Brenda …”
I sigh and throw the pillow to the floor. “The body is hidden on the back property of Death Valley, and Henley is still probably passed out in the chapel, if not at home.” I left her there last night, not wanting to deal with that. I wasn’t up for babysitting. Plus, Jamie was there somewhere. They had ridden together.
“Your little bitch called the cops,” he snaps.
I sit up, switching my phone to the other ear. “No.” I shake my head. “She was too far gone.”
“I just got a call that the police showed up at Death Valley, and a very distraught Henley took them up to the chapel last night after we had already left.” I run a hand through my hair. “She told them Monroe raped and killed Brenda.”
I let out a rough laugh. “Okay.” I shrug. “Let her. Nothing will come of it. They’ll need proof …”
“Monroe just got taken in for questioning,” he snaps. “This is fucking serious, man. What if she …?”
“She didn’t,” I grind out.
“You don’t fucking know that!” he shouts. “Plus, afterward …”
“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” I snap, trying to think. My head pounds from taking a fist to it last night. “It won’t matter what she says. Monroe wasn’t even in fucking town. It won’t amount to anything.”
He lets out an aggravated breath. “Maybe we should go to the police.”
“Listen here, you little shit.” I throw the covers off and jump out of bed, standing naked in my bedroom. “I have video evidence of what you did last night. Don’t fucking forget that.” If he turns on me, I’ll nail his ass to the fucking cross. It’ll be his word against mine that I killed Brenda. But what he did afterward? I recorded that shit for this exact reason.
“I … I think I should go talk to Henley. You know …”
“Don’t fucking do that.” I sigh. Jesus Christ. But it’s not a bad idea. To see what she told them. What she remembers. “I’ll go and see what she knows. What she told the police.”
GRAYSON LAW
I lean up against the hood of my car the following morning, casually smoking a joint like any other day. I can’t let people see that I’m about to snap. That my doll is missing and it’s because my best friend stole her.