The Promise (Wolfe Creek Duet #2)

45

THEA

Anthony insisted on waiting until dusk to head out to Wolf Creek. We found a reflector that marked where Cole parked when Anthony followed him. Now we’re on foot, retracing the coordinates he marked when he tracked Cole’s footprints.

It’s not fully dark yet, still I’m jumping with every branch that cracks. Paranoia sunk in as soon as we got deep enough in the woods and lost sight of Cassie’s car. I’m terrified we’ll run into some wild animal out here, or worse, Cole. I know it’s not likely—he doesn’t come out here at night, according to Anthony. Still, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

My eyes search the distance, but the trunks of the bare trees blend together and the illusion begins playing tricks on my eyes. Something about the winter’s lifelessness is terrifying. I turn my focus the back of Cassie’s head.

She’s following Anthony, who’s pushing a lawnmower looking machine called a GPR. I didn’t bother asking what the letters stood for, knowing I’d likely forget it, anyway. He said that it detects disturbances in the soil—disturbances like a grave.

Anthony made sure to keep my expectations realistic. He told me we may find nothing out here. More than likely, that’ll be the outcome. Part of me hopes that we find nothing. I don’t want to dig up the bodies of Rob and Matt. But the other part of me knows that I’m desperately clinging to finding them so that I can get closure. I need closure more than anything right now.

“You good?” Cass asks, slowing her stride to walk next to me.

Despite the darkening sky, I can see the worry in her eyes. I nod, although it’s not very convincing. She cants her head, waiting for me to speak. “Considering the circumstances… sure, I’m fine. There’s not really another option other than fine, is there?”

Her shoulders sag. “I know. I wish I could say that there is, but in times like this, fine is what gets you through to the other side. Sometimes it’s just saying you’re fine that does it, even if you don’t believe the words. If you say it enough, eventually you convince yourself until it’s true.” She’s right. Tears prick at my eyes. “But it will be true. You will be fine once all of this is done. I can make that promise confidently.”

I don’t think Cassie understands how much her words mean to me right now. I don’t think she realizes that her faith is carrying me. Then again, maybe she does and that’s why she said it. She’s been through shit. I may not ever know the story, but I have a feeling that more than anyone else, she knows what I’m going through right now.

That brings me a little peace of mind.

“Here it is,” Anthony announces. “This is where he stopped last time. Well, he paced a lot, but this is the general area.”

He flicks on the light that’s mounted to his helmet, flooding the area in brightness. Anthony begins tinkering with the GPR machine while I search the now illuminated darkness for any signs of life. I don’t find anything and somehow that creeps me out even more than the alternative.

I rub my arms through my fleece jacket and thermal layers, but it’s pointless. The chill penetrating me isn’t from the cold. My life doesn’t feel like my own anymore. This feels like a bad horror movie and I’m just playing a part. And the scary thing is, I don’t know what happens next in the script. Do I even make it out alive in the end?

“Alright, this might take a while,” Anthony interrupts my morbid thoughts. “I have to move slowly with this thing and I don’t know where to start. It could take hours,” he warns.

Cass slings the chair she’s been carrying on her back to the ground before unpacking it from its protective case. I do the same. I feel guilty for sitting while Anthony pushes the machine across the ground, but there’s nothing else I can do right now.

We sit in silence, listening to the crunch of leaves beneath the wheels and his footsteps. Every so often he stops to place an orange flag in the ground.

“He’s marking anomalies,” Cass whispers. I nod in understanding.

I have the strangest thought. They work so well together; it’s effortless. There’s no questioning or resistance—they’re in sync. There’s a pang of jealousy. I want that. I wish I could tell the guys about all of this. I wish we could all work together to get rid of Cole and all the problems he’s created. But that isn’t my reality, Damian would take charge and tell me not to worry about it. I’d be outnumbered.

Maybe someday, under different circumstances, things could be different. But not this time.

Anthony doesn’t put down many flags and my hope dwindles as he covers more and more ground. I check my burner phone. We’ve been out here nearly an hour and a half. Looking up, I catch something.

He’s staring hard at the monitor on his machine. Harder than he has all night. I sit up straighter, waiting for something. He starts pushing it, even slower than before. Then, he goes over the same area again, placing flags. Moving over a little, he does the same thing again, until he’s marked off a rectangular area that is oddly reminiscent of a gravesite.

“Anthony,” Cassie says his name cautiously.

He nods. “I think this is it.”

I can’t breathe. This isn’t happening. I’m frozen. I don’t know what to do. Vaguely, I feel something on my arm. I turn my head slowly and see it’s my best friend’s hand. Looking up, I meet her empathetic gaze. “I know,” she mutters. “But we have to. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” I croak out.

“We can do it for you,” she offers. I’m so fucking tempted to take her up on it, but I can’t. This isn’t her battle and I’m not dragging her any farther into this war than she needs to be.

Taking a deep breath, I push up from the chair. My legs barely cooperate. “Let’s get this over with.”

Anthony walks back toward us, bending down to unzip the large bag he carried into the woods. He pulls out three shovels, three jumpsuits, gloves, and hairnets. He’s thought of everything I haven’t.

We pull on all the protective gear. There’s nothing else I can do to stall—it’s time.

Grabbing a shovel, I head toward the area Anthony’s marked out. He’s removed all the flags except for the four corners of the rectangle. We each take a side.

“They won’t be deep down, so won’t have to dig too far. I don’t know what state we’ll find them in. Be prepared that it could be bad. If you feel like you’re going to get sick, do it in that bag over there.” He points to a heavy duty black garbage bag he’s tied to a tree. “Let’s do this.”

Anthony strikes the soil first. Then Cass. Finally, I do too. We find a rhythm of sinking, scooping, tossing. Sinking. Scooping. Tossing. Sinking… “Stop!” My head snaps up at the sound of Cassie’s voice. She’s looking at her husband and something exchanges between them, something only soulmates could understand. The ability to not speak and completely know what the other person is saying.

He comes around to her side, observing where her shovel is half buried. She pulls it free and he uses his hand to scoop away the soil gently. Slowly, something emerges as he shifts the dirt. Somehow, I know exactly what it is. A shoulder. Someone’s shoulder.

The urge to vomit hits me hard. I can feel it invading my throat. Closing my eyes, I swallow it down as much as I can. I can’t tap out.

“Help me,” Anthony urges. “Be gentle, though.”

Steeling myself, I follow his lead, scooping away the dirt carefully. I uncover a leg. Cassie discovers a torso. With each inch of this body uncovered, the smell of decay grows until it permeates my nostrils and coats my tongue.

Turning my head, I pull in a breath of air from behind me and hold it for as long as possible. It’s pointless, the putrid smell is everywhere. It’s making me delirious or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen as I restrict my breathing.

My head begins to swim. I’m dizzy, but still I scoop and toss. And then, I can’t. Something stops me. I yank and hear a sickly pop.

“Thea,” Anthony hisses.

My eyes follow his. There isn’t dirt cradled in my palms. No, instead it’s a hand. The hand of the other body, buried beneath the first, bent at a strange angle. It takes my brain a minute to comprehend what I’m seeing and then it clicks. His hands were zip tied behind his back.

Finally, I release him. I scramble backwards, but there’s no escape. I’m in this grave with them. I’m in the grave I condemned them to, whether I knew it at the time or not.

Suddenly, Anthony jumps into action. His hands are everywhere, all at once. He searches the body of the first man, his fingers feeling for any signs of the pill bottle. When he reaches his pants, I see the slightest flicker of victory cross his face. He slips his hand into the man’s pocket and comes out with a little orange container.

It’s unexpected, but a weight lifts off my chest. The horror of us digging up decaying bodies fades a little. I’m not as nauseous. He extends his hand toward me and I take it from him.

My fingers run over the perfectly preserved ink on it. Wesley Wolfe. The writing isn’t smudged or faded at all. That’s when I notice the edge of the clear piece of tape. Cole made sure that if these bodies were found, Wesley would be suspect number one. He made sure that this evidence was undeniable.

Those familiar embers of hate and rage flare up. This time, they aren’t just hot coals. No—small sparks rise and a fire catches. It licks the edges of what’s left of my humanity, charring it. The light of the flame illuminates something I couldn’t see before. I thought the swallowing darkness in me was empty. I was wrong.

Deep in the recesses of it, I see a pyre. One built of anger, pain, heartache, grief, and betrayal. Engulfing the structure is the white hot fire that’s burning out of control. It’s fueled by those coals. Each one red and furious from every wrong done to me. And the kindling that’s sparked this inferno is Cole and his need to pull everyone I love into his twisted game.

A small part of me thinks I should douse the flames in water. I should put it out before it destroys everything. But I can’t bring myself to do it. I need this fire to kill anything feeble in me and to forge all of the strengths that will help me give Cole as an offering to this sacrificial pyre. So I let it burn—wild and hungry.

“Thea? What’s wrong?” Distantly, I hear Cass asking me this. Everything’s wrong. Has it ever been right?

I was destined for brokenness from the moment I was born. This was always it for me. Burning. Havoc. Revenge. That last one actually feels good to recognize. At least I know my destruction will take down someone who deserves it. At least something good will come out of my agony.

Finally, when I speak, it’s not intentional. My lips are disconnected from my voice and my voice disconnected from my mind. “I need to do the rest on my own,” I mumble absently.

“What?” Her hand reaches out for me, but I pull away.

“I don’t need your help anymore.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t mean that. You need our help.”

Then, it all connects and I’m hyper aware of everything. “No! I don’t! Let me do the rest on my own.” My tone is sharper than she’s used to. Cass recoils in shock.

I don’t wait for her to argue or for Anthony to have her back. I climb out of the hole I’ve dug myself into and wait for them to do the same. Then, silently, we all sink, scoop, and toss the soil back onto the bodies.

Anthony orders Cass and I to pack everything up while he works on making the gravesite look undisturbed. We peel off our protective gear and stuff it into the black trash bag. The entire time, I can feel the weight of Cassie wanting to protest against my words from earlier. Thankfully, she doesn’t speak.

She doesn’t speak while Anthony finishes. She doesn’t speak on the walk back to the car. She doesn’t speak on the drive to my house. She doesn’t speak. And that’s a first for her.

Quietly, I unlock the front door using the key I hid under the mat. I conveniently left everything except my burner phone at the house when they picked me up earlier. I couldn’t risk Damian finding out I was going to Wolf Creek. But I also know that he’ll probably chastise me for not having my phone or keys on me. I haven’t thought of an excuse yet.

Cass and Anthony are already gone. Thank you was the only thing I could say as I got out of the car. Not goodbye or sorry for snapping at her. I do feel sorry, a little, but also she’s pushed me a lot. Sometimes it’s for the best, although not always. And tonight I couldn’t let her do it. I know she won’t understand right now, however; I hope she does once this is all over.

I pull off my dirty socks before stepping inside. Anthony insisted on disposing of our shoes, so now I’m barefoot and my feet are freezing. I close the door gently behind me, then walk toward the stairs.

“Where were you?”

“Jesus!” I yelp at the sound of Damian’s voice cutting through the darkness. My eyes slowly adjust until I finally see him leaning against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you standing there in the dark?”

“I asked you a question first.” He straightens, throwing back the rest of his drink before striding toward me. I can hardly make out his features, but his silhouette is menacing enough without staring into those icy blue eyes. “Where were you, Thea?” Well, that isn’t good. He doesn’t use my name often.

I know how this looks. I’m sneaking in later than I normally would. I have no shoes on. I’m sure he knows I didn’t take my satchel, phone, or keys with me. And I’m trying to avoid answering him. I’m not delusional enough to think he’ll believe a lie, yet the truth isn’t an option either. I need to be vague. Maybe I can even deflect.

“I was at Cassie’s house.”

He steps closer, shaking his head. “All night?”

The way he asks makes me wonder if he’s tracking me some other way I don’t know about. Does he know about the burner phone in my pocket? Is he tracking that, too? I never thought to check to see if it’s sharing my location with him. I make a mental note to look into it.

“Yes, Damian. Where else would I be?” Here’s the moment of deflection. He can’t refute that Cassie picked me up and dropped me off, it’s all on camera. Even if he is tracking me another way, he’d have to admit to invading my privacy. I’m not sure he’ll be eager to do that.

“Why did you leave your bag and phone here? You never do that.” We’re edging into dangerous territory. He wants answers, but he’ll have to answer for his own wrongdoings in the process. Part of me wants to get it over with.

He pushes closer toward me, his features becoming clearer, but not completely visible. Dark shadows block out his eyes, making him look terrifying. I look lower, trying to avoid his stare. I can tell he’s shirtless. My gaze quickly roams the expanse of his tattoo covered chest and arms.

I can’t keep stalling. “Let’s get to the point. Let’s not pretend like we both don’t know that you track my every movement. You’re just upset that I forgot my things tonight and you couldn’t keep an eye on me. Might as well have it all out in the open, right?” I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes.

Damian steps even closer. I can make out every detail of his face now as the shadows flee. His brows lift in surprise. I’m not sure if he’s more shocked that I know he’s tracking me or that I’ve called him out.

“Thea, I do that for your protection. After Cole…”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know why you do it. That isn’t the problem. You could’ve told me.”

His gaze hardens. “I could’ve, but you’ve been known to pull some stunts and keep things hidden. That’s why I don’t entirely believe that you forgot all of your stuff tonight. Also, why are you barefoot?”

I’m thankful he hasn’t turned on the lights. My cheeks heat—it’d be a dead giveaway that I’m not telling the truth. “I spilled wine on my shoes. Cassie threw them in the washer.” Keep it vague. I don’t say anymore about it, although I feel the urge to redirect the conversation again. “Speaking of keeping things hidden, were you ever going to tell me about Cole being institutionalized? Or was that just a fun fact all of you thought I didn’t need to know? Because if you were so dead set on keeping me safe, you would’ve warned me. You knew he was capable of some crazy shit.” I should probably stop there, but the next words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “This pact is bullshit. Share everything? No one in this house shares anything of importance. You share money, you share property, you share me. But when it comes to things that actually matter, the things that could make or break this family, all of us shove it into the dark. So stop acting all high and mighty. Stop asking me to do the things you won’t.”

Damian averts his eye. It’s a rare show of weakness in the man who’s always in control. Normally, I’d feel guilty, but not tonight. Not after what I just did. I turn to head downstairs, although I don’t make it far. Damian’s hand wraps around my arm, turning me to face him.

“Please, I just want to go to bed,” I tell him, exhaustion wringing my voice.

His palms rest on my shoulders. “Princess.” The word softens me a little, against my better judgment. But it’s the embrace he pulls me into that threatens to break me completely. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I know there’s something. I feel like I’m watching you fall apart,” he begs, his voice cracking.

Damian’s vulnerability is so unexpected that my defenses waver. I could tell him everything. I could confess my plan to get rid of his brother, that his brother’s still alive, that he’s been assaulting me, that I’ve broken into his house, dug up bodies, and I’m losing myself. I could give all of this over to him and he’d jump into action. He would handle it all for me because that’s who he is.

I can’t do that, though. He deserves better. Damian deserves to rest and not add another thing onto his plate, especially Cole. Taking a deep breath, I fortify my walls and pull back from him.

“Everything going on with Sutton and Wes has been tough. I hate seeing them struggle and feeling completely helpless. There’s nothing I can do to make things better for them. That’s what’s wrong. I’m worried about them.” I drop my gaze, hoping like hell that he buys it.

Damian doesn’t say anything. When I look back up at him, his eyes tell me everything. They’re riddled with disappointment. He knows I’m lying. How could he not? Wes and Sutton, it’s such a flimsy excuse. If he’s as observant as I expect him to be, he’s noticed much more than I’ve anticipated and using them as a scapegoat is insulting.

He takes a step back. There’s nothing else to say. So I turn and walk toward the stairs once again, this time he doesn’t stop me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see him still standing there. While I can’t see his face, I can picture that defeated expression.

Finally, a pang of guilt breaks through and it hits deep in my heart. I’m hurting him. Still, I can’t stop. I won’t stop until he’s safe, until they’re all safe. That’s the most important thing to me right now. I’m following in Damian’s footsteps. This is for the greater good.

In the end, he’ll see that. He may not like what I’ve done, but he’ll respect it. That much I can count on. I head down to my room without looking back again.