Burn Like An Angel (Harrowdean Manor #2)

22. Ripley

CHAPTER 22

RIPLEY

AGAIN – NOAH CYRUS (FEAT. XXXTENTACION)

Watching the breaking news slogans filter past on the TV screen, I’m only half-heartedly paying attention. Balled-up, failed sketches are scattered all around me. I can’t focus long enough to create anything decent despite my return to a medicated equilibrium.

We had the chance to request items via Warner and his colleagues. I’ve since learned they’re one of several investigative teams within Sabre Security. He’s part of the Anaconda team, who’ve now been assigned to us.

The charcoal pencil clenched in my hand leaves a black smear, staining my fingertips. I shouldn’t be watching the news. If Xander were here and not having his brain picked at HQ, he’d unplug it at the wall.

“Incendia Corporation’s president, Sir Joseph Bancroft, had this to say to our reporters this morning.”

The exaggerated voice of the newscaster catches my attention. I can hardly stomach seeing Bancroft’s wizened, wrinkle-linked face and sagging jowls take up the screen.

He wears a fine, navy-blue suit, the deep silk accents showing off his diamond tiepin. Behind him lies a disgusting display of wealth. His vast, old money estate is hidden deep in the Cheshire countryside.

“Blackwood Institute will be open again soon after significant refurbishments to repair the damage. We hope to return to normal operations at Priory Lane and Harrowdean Manor in the near future too.”

Pain lances my hand. Startled, I look down and find the charcoal pencil snapped, the sharpened tip digging into my palm. Unclenching my fist, I flick my eyes back up to the TV.

The obnoxious flash of reporters snapping photos fills the screen as Bancroft climbs into the back of a fancy town car. Their yells are unanswered. He doesn’t address the accusations thrown at him and the chauffeur service drives him away.

I attended a lavish fundraiser at his country estate once, forced into a hideous velvet gown by my uncle’s stylist. The thirty-bedroom monstrosity was bustling with famous faces and well-lined pockets that night.

It turned my stomach even then.

Now it’s fucking intolerable.

A click draws my head up as the news report switches off. Standing behind the sofa I’m curled up on, Lennox peers at me in an assessing way. He places the remote control down.

There’s something different about him today. He looks heavier somehow, a sad kind of darkness making his pale irises appear dull in a sharp contrast to the shiny, vibrant pink scar on his face.

“Are you okay?”

Rolling his lips, he glances over me. “Would you come somewhere with me?”

“Like… go out?”

Lennox nods.

“Is that allowed?”

“I’ve cleared it with the team. Warner’s guy, Ethan, will drive.”

Unlike Xander, Lennox doesn’t lock his emotions away when he doesn’t want anyone to see them. He’s always been an easy read, it’s just the only story his face ever told before was one of gut-punching anger.

Now there’s a tale of grief written across his slumped facial features and bag-lined eyes. Even his clothing is gloomy today, an all-black shirt and fitted sweatpants combination that makes his golden skin stand out.

He has washed and styled his hair, though, like he wants to make some effort. The messy brown locks are pushed behind his ears in a semi-tidy pile, revealing the silver ring in his left ear.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s… my sister’s birthday today.” He slowly trails a finger along the back of the sofa. “I’ve never been able to visit her on her birthday. Figured I may go.”

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

Canine sinking into his pillowy lip, Lennox looks away. “I just don’t feel like going alone.”

Setting my sketchpad and charcoals aside, I sit up on the sofa so I can lean over and reach him. Lennox keeps his gaze averted as I wind my arms around his neck to tug him closer.

“You don’t need to be scared to ask, Nox. If you want me there with you, I’ll be there. No questions asked.”

Daring to make eye contact, he appears relieved, the tense lines around his mouth evening out. I stroke a hand over his trimmed stubble, trying to wipe away any doubts.

“Where is she?”

“About an hour or so from here.” He pulls my hand into his. “You sure? We’ve all had a lot on our minds since that meeting.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Let’s go.”

He pulls me up, leaving the failed sketches behind. We call out to Raine, washing the city off himself in the shower. He was escorted out to see Sabre’s medic for a check-up and meds refill earlier on.

“Be careful!” he yells back.

Escaping the apartment together, one of Sabre’s blacked-out SUVs is parked on the curb outside. Ethan leans against it, studying the quiet neighbourhood.

The safe house is surrounded by copy and paste apartment blocks with little character. We’re far enough from Central London to grant us some privacy from the usual hustle and bustle.

“Hey.” Ethan offers us both a professional smile. “Ready?”

Lennox opens the back door for me. “Yeah. Did Warner give you the location?”

“He did. I’ve got a couple extra security officers following in a second vehicle to be safe, but they’ll keep their distance. The rest will remain here with Raine.”

Nodding to him, I climb into the SUV. Lennox joins me in the back and clips my belt in place for me without thinking. The small gesture makes my cheeks warm.

“Where did you grow up?” I pull his hand into my lap.

Lennox settles into his seat. “Near Colchester.”

“I don’t know much about your childhood.”

“There isn’t much to tell. We were raised by my grandfather. You know he was a retired army vet. Mum died shortly after Daisy was born from birth complications. Neither of us had dads we knew about.”

The silver chain peeking out of his t-shirt collar is even more visible against the black fabric. I’ve never seen him without it. Even when we were running for our lives without a single belonging, he kept it safe.

“You’ve never been to see her? Daisy?”

“I was arrested not long after her burial. You know why. I haven’t seen her grave since.”

It’s no secret that Lennox was facing a hefty sentence for first-degree murder before he took the plea deal to attend Priory Lane. He burned down his childhood home with his abusive grandfather still inside.

I can’t imagine the pain of burying a sibling, let alone in those circumstances. It was hard enough saying goodbye to my parents. Throwing dirt on your baby sister’s coffin must be a whole new level of agony.

Holding his hand tight, the journey passes fast once we escape London to find the main road heading east. The cramped apartment blocks shift into vast green fields with clustered neighbourhoods.

Lennox doesn’t speak again until we turn into a small town just outside Colchester, but I can feel his legs quaking underneath our linked hands.

We wind through twisting streets sandwiched with in-bloom summer florals to reach the graveyard. It’s tucked away in a quiet spot, the church car park empty when we pull in with another SUV loosely following us.

“We’ll remain here in the car park, but don’t wander too far,” Ethan announces, turning his head to us. “We’re not taking any chances.”

I offer him a tight smile. “Thanks, Ethan.”

“Of course. Take your time.”

Dragging Lennox’s silent self from the car, we face the graveyard together. His feet seem rooted in the gravel when I try to encourage him to start walking. He’s eyeing the scene with a look of mild panic.

“I left her alone for all this time,” he croaks.

“That wasn’t your choice.”

“None of this was, Rip. Doesn’t change the fact that I haven’t been there for her.”

Linking his arm with mine, I squeeze tightly. “You’re here now. And you aren’t alone.”

Taking a deep breath, he nods and begins to walk into the graveyard. Sunshine beats down on us, bouncing off polished marble headstones adorned with dried and fresh flowers.

We walk all the way to the back where the newer graves are located. Lennox’s tentative steps slow beneath a tall apple tree, laden with unripe fruit. He stops in front of a moss-speckled stone, third from the left.

My eyes water as I read the inscription.

Daisy Nash.

Our beautiful angel.

The dirt streaks on her headstone and lack of flowers break my heart. There’s been no one to visit Daisy for a long time, not while Lennox has been serving his sentence. Her grave is unadorned.

I release Lennox’s arm. “Wait here.”

At the base of the apple tree, a cluster of wildflowers have sprouted. They aren’t much, but I gather up the colourful pops of indigo blue, yellow and vibrant purple.

He raises an eyebrow when I walk back over. “Here.”

“What are they for?”

“You can lay them on her grave.”

Taking the picked flowers from me, Lennox studies the makeshift bunch for a moment. He then splits them into two halves and passes one back to me.

“Do it with me?”

I take the flowers, my chest twinging. “Of course.”

Together we lay the tiny bunches in front of Daisy’s gravestone. The natural sprigs immediately brighten up the sad scene. Lennox remains kneeling while I shuffle back to give him space.

“Sorry I haven’t come by for a while, Dais. I… uh, made some choices. Got myself in a bit of trouble. I’m okay, though. Don’t worry about me.”

He runs his hand over the inscription, tracing her name.

“Happy birthday, squirt. I miss you every day. I’d give anything to feel you yanking my sleeve and begging to go for ice cream one last time. I never should’ve taken those moments for granted.”

Lennox’s head lowers, shielding his face. I can hear his quickening breathing, matching each time his shoulders shake. The remains of my heart splinter at the sight of him crying for his baby sister.

I’ve come to realise it’s a misconception that bad people don’t feel pain or regret. Oftentimes, those who’ve been forced to make the most awful decisions do so from a place of immense pain.

Lennox is no different.

All his choices, even the most morally questionable ones, have come from such deep-rooted trauma, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. His fierce protective instincts have led him to many dark places.

“I don’t blame you for what you did, but I wish you’d talked to me.” His sonorous voice breaks. “I’d have gotten you out, Dais. I would’ve protected you from him.”

Kneeling beside him, I wrap an arm around Lennox’s broad back. His head presses against my shoulder, the sound of his quiet sobbing filling the warm breeze. There’s nothing I can do but hold him.

“I failed her,” Lennox whispers brokenly.

“No. This cruel world failed Daisy. Not you.”

“She needed someone to save her, Rip. I didn’t do it.”

The silence stretches on. Helpless tears prickle my eyes.

“I fucking failed her,” he rasps. “I’ll never forgive myself for that. What good was my revenge when she’s still lying dead beneath the ground?”

Licking my lips, I decide to speak my mind. “I know I’m not supposed to say this… but you did right by her, Nox. You got rid of the monster who hurt her so badly. And that man can’t hurt anyone else now.”

“It was too late for her.”

“Yes, it was,” I agree sadly. “But it isn’t too late for you to start living your life for her. She wouldn’t want you to carry around all this guilt forever. You have to live in her name now.”

He vibrates with barely silenced sobs. “How?”

“However you want—that’s the point. She’d want you to be happy, living a life you’ve chosen for yourself. Not one full of regret for something you didn’t choose and can’t ever change.”

Holding him tight, I let him cry it all out. The grief. The guilt. Every toxic emotion and traumatic memory that’s carved Lennox from immovable steel into the complex man he is today. A man borne from pain but holding so much capacity for unconditional love.

My muscles are protesting from sitting frozen for so long by the time Lennox lifts his head. I trace my thumb across his cheek, smoothing the faint, silvery trails that have soaked into his stubble.

“Better?”

He puffs out a long sigh. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“It’s okay to rely on others too, you know. I get that you want to protect us all, but we care about you. And you can lean on us when the burden gets too heavy as well.”

With a faint smile, he presses a kiss against my hair. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

“Please do. I’m a mess half the time anyway. I’ll happily share that title with you.”

“How generous.”

Rising, I offer him a hand up. “That’s me. Such a giver.”

Lennox clambers to his feet, clutching my hand in his huge paw. We both look back down at Daisy’s grave. He curses, leaning down to clean the stone with the hem of his shirt and remove the moss speckles.

“I should book one of those grave cleaners.” Lennox brushes off his tee. “You know, when we have actual lives and freedom again. She deserves for it to be sparkling clean.”

“We’ll make it happen.”

“Ripley!” someone bellows. “Lennox!”

Both startled, we turn simultaneously to look back at the car park. Another tinted SUV has pulled in, the interior shaded from sight. No one drives vehicles like that around here without having a good reason.

Terror blooms inside me, quickly growing into a spiky ball that fills my stomach. Ethan’s backup is another man I don’t recognise, and Tara, the brown-haired agent we first met.

They’ve both pulled out their weapons. The guns are aimed at the driver’s side, but it’s the passenger door that opens to release an occupant.

My breath catches. “Shit.”

“Is that…?”

“Yes.”

Brushing off his smart trousers and designer polo shirt, my uncle casts a withering glare at the agents training their guns on him. It’s rare he’s seen out of a full suit. Apparently, he views this as a social call.

I watch the agents reluctantly lower their weapons, though they are kept drawn. Right now, Sabre has no jurisdiction to threaten my uncle. Harming him would cause a huge scandal.

Lennox keeps me slightly tucked behind him as we walk back to the cars. Their voices grow louder. Three men exit the SUV behind my uncle, all stacked with muscle and wearing fearsome scowls.

“I’d just like to speak to my niece.” Jonathan shows his palms placatingly. “There’s no need for weapons.”

“That isn’t going to happen,” Ethan retorts.

“Now now. Your hostility isn’t required.”

“Jonathan,” I call out, approaching the tense scene. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, Ripley.” He trains a picture-perfect smile on me. “I thought it’s time we had a chat. You’ve been laying low for some time now.”

“Keeping an eye on me?”

“Much like you’ve been monitoring me, I assume. Your new friends didn’t spot us coming today?”

Ethan’s eyes connect with mine, full of apologies. I shake my head at him. They can’t be expected to follow his every move, twenty-four hours a day. Not when his team is spread thin like it is today.

“Can we talk?” Jonathan’s request draws my eyes back to him.

“You had the chance to talk before you ended that phone call. Now I have nothing to say to you.”

He audibly sighs. “Always such a difficult child. Come on, Ripley. Spare me a few minutes.”

“Like you spared my friend’s life when your men killed her in cold blood?”

“That was not their instructions,” he explains like it’s obvious. “These mercenary types… They do get carried away, I’m afraid. The girl’s death was unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate?” I glare at him.

“We’ve all made some regretful decisions of late. I’m here to simplify matters.”

Lennox cinches his arm around me. “She isn’t going anywhere with you.”

“Ah, Mr Nash.” Jonathan turns his attention to him. “You know, my niece can do a lot better than a filthy criminal such as yourself. Do release her before I’m forced to take action.”

Laughing hard, Lennox doesn’t budge. “You’re funny. I see Ripley didn’t inherit anything from you. Thank fuck for that.”

His eyes hardening into cold diamonds, Jonathan takes a step forward. The lowered weapons all around him suddenly raise, again pointed at him. In turn, each of his men pull their own guns, aiming them at Ethan’s team.

Great.

We’re all going to die.

“See, this is the fuss I hoped to avoid.” Jonathan huffs with a head shake. “Ripley, walk with me. No one needs to get hurt.”

Releasing Lennox, I try to inch away from him only to be held back by his thick arm. He stares at me with fierce disapproval, his glower firmly fixed in place. Damn. I haven’t been on the receiving end of that for a while.

“Not a chance,” he growls through his teeth.

“Would you prefer for us all to get shot in some bullshit Wild West standoff? Come on, Nox.”

“He’s playing us!”

“And killing me in broad daylight would be just as bad for his public image as Sabre shooting him would be. We’re out in the open. I’ll be fine.”

Cursing colourfully, Lennox eventually surrenders me. I pat his arm before gesturing for my uncle to follow. He orders his men to remain behind and follows me into the churchyard, away from Daisy’s grave.

Once we’re far enough from prying ears, he slows his steps.

“You’re looking well, Ripley.”

“Cut the shit. What do you want?”

“Am I not allowed to check in with my beloved niece?”

“I didn’t feel very beloved while running from assassins in the dead of night. We almost died.”

“Unfortunately, desperate times sometimes call for a blunt instrument. I can assure you, it was merely a business decision to round you up and prevent any further damage to our operations.”

Laughter spills out of me. “In that case, I do apologise for foiling your plan. I’m sure it would’ve been more convenient for us to die in a maize field.”

We circle several crumbling statues of well-known saints, coming to rest at a wooden bench. Jonathan gestures for me to take a seat. Eyeing him, I reluctantly sit down.

“I’m seeking a quiet resolution to all this bother, Ripley. It’s bad for business.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He sits down next to me. “I’m sure the plea deal you signed with the authorities to act as their informant has already slipped your mind.”

How the fuck does he know about that?

Jonathan waves dismissively. “Before you ask, I’m not inclined to reveal my sources. You’ve squandered the trust I once had in you. Now you’ve become a problem.”

In the distance, I can see Lennox keeping a wary eye on us, pacing with his arms folded in front of him. He looks ready to bolt over here and pummel Jonathan into the ground if he dares to try anything.

“I want you to come home, Ripley.”

I jolt in shock, staring at my uncle. “Excuse me?”

“You’ve proven your point. Good show, very dramatic. But we both know you’re knee-deep in this. Your new friends cannot be trusted. I’m offering you a lifeline.”

I thought he was just a stone-cold, power-hungry asshole, but I’m starting to wonder if my uncle is certifiably insane.

“We can weather this storm together,” he continues, laying on the faux concern. “I’d hate to see you blamed for all that has transpired. Let me help you.”

“Help me?” I scoff. “You can’t even help yourself! You’re backed into a corner along with your dickhead boss, Bancroft, and all his associates. Silencing me won’t save any of you.”

“I raised you to make smart decisions,” he tries again. “I’m offering you a chance to avoid any further bloodshed. Take it.”

Unable to stand our close proximity for a moment longer, I quickly stand, turning to shoot daggers at him. Jonathan remains seated, a leg casually crossed over and his hands clasped.

“You didn’t raise me, Jonathan. An endless parade of hired help did. I’ve been alone ever since Mum died.”

“Always so ungrateful. I took you in!”

“And treated me with disgust and contempt for my entire life!” I don’t bother trying to remain calm any longer. “You hated me before I was diagnosed and couldn’t stand the sight of me after.”

Creases form on his forehead as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You had a chance to rule in Harrowdean, dear niece. Who gave that to you?”

“I sold my soul to survive an evil regime you helped fund.”

“And were you not safe? Protected? Able to live a privileged life behind bars?”

“You’re fucking insane! Nothing about that was privileged!”

He tuts condescendingly. “You’re still a child. Spoiled and selfish. I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me?”

“No, this isn’t.” I take a breath, unclench my fists then stare into his clear gaze. “I’ll repay you by tearing down Incendia Corporation and ensuring the trail of money leads straight back to you. Then we’ll be even.”

“Careful,” he warns.

“Or what?”

“Or your position as my niece won’t keep you safe from what’s to come, Ripley. I’ve been gracious thus far.”

In my periphery, I can see Lennox jogging over to us. He’s run out of patience. I’m glad—this was a huge mistake. Every second spent entertaining Jonathan’s psychosis is just wasted breath.

“I don’t care how long it takes for the investigation to tear your empire down,” I lash out. “I’ll give them every single detail to ensure you rot behind bars for the rest of your life.”

Instead of fear, Jonathan merely smiles. Cold and unaffected.

“Very well. You’ve made your choice.”

“I have.” I inch away from him. “We won’t speak again.”

His fake smile remains fixed in place. “If that is your wish.”

When Lennox skids to a halt, eyes scouring over me in search of any signs of harm, he’s red in the face. Jonathan rises to his feet, but his attention is now fixed on Lennox.

“You’ve tied yourself to a sinking ship, Mr Nash. I’d advise you to get far away from my niece before she takes you down with her.”

Lip curling, Lennox casts him a look that would terrify even the most steadfast of men. I know something has well and truly broken in Jonathan’s brain when it only makes his sick smile widen farther.

“I count my blessings that your niece even gives me the time of day,” Lennox replies unequivocally. “Threaten her and you’ll have a hell of a fight on your hands.”

Jonathan snickers. “Why should I be afraid of a scumbag convict like you?”

Approaching him, Lennox’s shoulders pull back, his head held high. Not a single flinch or hint of embarrassment for his past.

“Because I’ve proven the lengths I’ll go to for my family. That includes Ripley now. Consider the kind of people you’re threatening before running your mouth.”

I relish the look of surprise on Jonathan’s face when Lennox snaps his curled-up fist out. The punch hits him square in the nose, a powerful blow that elicits a loud crack. Jonathan shrieks in pain.

Lennox shakes his fist out, knuckles now covered in fresh blood. My uncle is doubled over, cupping his bleeding nose.

“Us convicts aren’t afraid to play dirty to win the game,” Lennox hisses. “Enjoy explaining that at your next board meeting.”

Still dripping in my uncle’s blood, he seizes my hand. I let him tow me away, wrapped up in his campfire-scented warmth. This time, I’m walking away from Uncle Jonathan. Leaving him afraid and alone.

And I’ll never look back.

I don’t need him anymore.