this is a twisted little town, and what can I say? I’m a product of my environment.
Folkestone has always fed on secrets and muddy half-truths. They’re the fuel that drives the dark engine of this town, so of course there would be long-standing contingencies in place to clean up any potentially damaging scenarios. It’s the only reason I can think of to explain how life around me went back to normal so damn quickly.
The Founding Families and their collective money and power efficiently and quietly swept everything under the proverbial rug. Residents outside of our bizarre and entitled circle are oblivious. They believe the party line that the Torstens are experiencing marital issues, and Callum and Eleanor decided to take a little trip to try and sort out their relationship.
In reality, Mrs. Torsten is recuperating from her stabby little breakdown in a facility somewhere deep in the wilds of Oregon. There were no cops, no courtroom, and no trial—nothing but a short ride on a private jet and a lovely room in a hospital resembling a fancy hotel. It turns out Callum had been regularly beating the shit out of his wife. Twenty years of his violent attempts to mold her into an obedient, hollowed-out shell appeared to be successful until she finally snapped on his sadistic, psychotic ass.
We all have a limit—an invisible line that, once crossed, pops the lid on the Pandora’s box of rage and fear and pain we secretly harbor. Hearing her abuser boast gleefully about what he did to Catherine Bradleigh all those years ago finally pushed Mrs. Torsten past hers. When my father found out the extent of the horrors she experienced at her husband's hands, he personally arranged everything for her extended stay at The Pines.
Somebody in the older generation of the Heirs made the almost comical decision to let Eleanor’s sister know Hali would be without parental supervision for a while. Hali’s aunt and uncle flew up from Palm Springs to stay with her and keep her on the straight and narrow. I’m guessing they didn’t know their niece very well before they got here since their arrangement lasted a total of four days. They finally got the hint their presence wasn’t wanted when Hali threw everything they brought with them into the middle of her driveway and set it on fire.
Her little tantrum finally opened our parents’ eyes to what the rest of us have known for years—that she’s a heinous, nasty, cruel individual. Which proves she takes after her father, I guess.
Speaking of her father, Callum, the fuckhead, is still alive somehow. Since the night he was gored by his wife, he’s been in a coma in a private hospital funded by the Founding Families. Not trusting he won’t suddenly wake up and lose his shit, Payne’s father’s security firm has him under guard twenty-four hours a day.
His partner in crime, my mother, otherwise known as Satan herself, has flat-out refused to leave the house since that night. She’s hammered whenever her eyes are open and seems even more determined than usual to drink herself to death. That arrangement works just fine for me; the quicker she pickles herself and shuffles off to hell, the less chance there is of me sending her there myself.
My father is around a lot more since the big revelation, which, I admit, I kind of like. We were super close when I was younger, and I’ve missed having him around the past few years. Can’t say I blame the guy for wanting to stay away though, given the woman he married. When he found out what his wife and Callum did to the love of his life, the wounds ripped in his psyche seem to have aged him twenty years overnight.
Out of all the Heirs, Payne and I are floundering the most in the girls’ absence. The frustrated hurt we’re feeling over essentially being ditched is almost tangible, and it sticks to each of us like burrs. Throw in the awful information we learned that night, and neither of us wants to be alone much—it's too easy to get lost in our own heads. So we spend a lot of nights driving aimlessly, down at our hidden beach, or at my place drinking.
“How the fuck can I miss somebody this bad when I’ve known her for all of five minutes?” I take a swallow of my beer, clenching my fist around the long neck and feeling the beads of condensation slide between my fingers.