He flicked down and I realized I was still holding the gift sent hurtling through our window.
I peeled off the rubber band, opened the note, and dropped the rock. My jaw clenched.
“It says... get the fuck out of Bedlam.”
Arsenio straightened. With the bursting of another tire, the blaze in his eyes was doused. The color returned. The handsome, smiling mayor’s son stood before me. If I hadn’t been looking at him, I’d have missed the transformation. I was looking at him and honestly couldn’t say which expression frightened me more.
Something dropped on my shoulders.
Roan draped the blanket around me. “Let’s go,” he said. “I’ll take a look at your feet.”
I didn’t stop him lifting me in his arms or turning to carry me inside.
As Legend, Cairo, and Jacques streamed past, they let the door swing shut and I caught the barest glimpse. Standing in the crowd, watching the flames’ desperate quest for more fuel, was Jeremy.
“THEY DID THIS.”
Arsenio paced the living room, stomping a groove in the floor that stopped me voicing the half dozen comforting statements that floated in my head. I only had to look at him to see nothing I said would make this better. I didn’t know the story behind his car, but if Jeremy wanted to hurt him, he succeeded.
“They did,” I said, snapping that burning gaze to me. “I saw Jeremy in the crowd. Don’t have to guess what brought him away from Bay Avenue in the middle of the night.”
Arsenio spun on his heels, storming to the door. Jacques dropped the tape and moved in his path.
“You can’t do what you’re thinking.”
Snarling, Arsenio got in his face. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
Jacques didn’t flinch. “Yes, I do. Ellis will be tucked away in his mansion with the eight security cameras sweeping the property. They’ll have you arriving on video and the sheriff—”
“I don’t care!”
“Your old man would!”
My eyes went round. To hear Arsenio shout was shocking, if understandable in the situation, but Jacques too?
“He wouldn’t want you going to prison for that car, and he sure as hell wouldn’t want you there because of trash like Jeremy Ellis and the Crows.” He gripped his friend’s shoulders. “You know the plan. You know we can get rid of them for good, but we can’t strike back.”
“Jacques’s right,” Cairo said. He stayed at the window, carefully breaking the last of the jagged glass and covering the gaping hole in our home with cardboard. “Micah is telling everyone those photos are faked. He’s dropping a sympathetic tune of trying to make peace with Roan and end the fighting, and then Roan used him and planted those nudes on the phone. This fire looks like victims striking back, and if we come at them, it’ll solidify that martyr image they’re painting.
“These fools came into our town, fucked with us, fucked with our people, and got what they deserved for using Bedlam for their own ends. That has to be the story on everyone’s tongue when this is over, or Foundry and the Crows get exactly what they want, us out of Bedlam.”
Arsenio bore into Jacques. “Get out of my way.”
“I will, if you tell me the outcome of you going over there tonight.” Jacques held out his arms. “You’re a smart guy, Creed. Too smart to not know exactly where we’ll find you in the morning. So, picture that ending, and then picture the one I’ve picked out for Jeremy Ellis and his boys. You tell me which one is more satisfying.”
I held my breath, darting between them. No one clued me in to Jacques’s plan, but I did know what would happen if Arsenio left this house. I’d seen that look in his eye only once before. Axel Verlice did too.
Arsenio sidestepped him and thundered upstairs. His door slam rattled the whole house.
No one spoke for a beat.
“What’s the plan?” I asked.
“You don’t need the details,” Cairo replied.
“You’re not seriously thinking I’ll tell Jeremy, are you? Because if you are, I’ll hit you over the head with another crossbow.”
Cairo blew me a kiss.
“For real, I—” My fists balled. “I’ve never seen Arsenio like that. Tell me what to do.”
“You don’t need to do anything,” Jacques said. “What matters is what you say.”
I SHUFFLED ALONG THE path, walking a few feet, turning around, then claiming a bench only to get up again. I couldn’t help my anxious energy. It took all the persuasive power I possessed to stop the guys from coming here in my place and beating Jeremy into the ground.
My phone buzzed. I fished it out of my backpack.
New Boy One: Keep walking past the memorial.
Me: What is this? Are we meeting up or not?
New Boy One: Past the memorial. Hurry up.
Blowing out a breath, I took off, leaving the arboretum and making my way to Douglas Herbert’s memorial. I couldn’t stop myself glancing at the kookaburra as I went past, or recalling the memories that would forever be attached to that blasted bird. How did my life become this?