it was only a matter of time before they let you back in.”
“You knew they’d eventually find out Grey didn’t do it.”
He nods. “I tried minor shit at first, trying to scare you away, or at the very least, make you switch schools. But that night in the parking lot, you saw something you shouldn’t have. And that put you on my dad’s radar. I told him I had it under control. That I’d handle it. Because believe me, Shayne. He’d do much worse.”
A chill licks its way up my spine. I believe that. Without a doubt.
“He controls everything and everyone around him. If someone steps out of line, he doesn’t handle it well. But I’m not playing his game anymore.” He stands, wobbling on his feet. “So here’s my proposition.”
“You really think you’re in a position to negotiate?” Thayer asks, his voice low and menacing. “What did we say we’d do if we found out who killed Danny? You were there when we said it, remember?” he taunts.
“We said we’d get revenge—” Holden supplies.
“No matter who it is,” Thayer finishes, moving around me, but Christian nods at Baker, signaling something.
“Check your phones.”
Thayer pulls out his phone and I lean in to see what it is. It’s a video from an unknown number, presumably Baker’s. He clicks on the triangle to play the video. It starts out with Christian and Danny roughhousing on the cliff, laughing and trying to push each other. The camera zooms in, and I can see the wide smiles on their faces.
“I win, motherfucker!” Christian’s distant voice calls out, leaning over the cliff with his hands in the air, laughing victoriously. The video is taken from behind, but you can see the moment he realizes something isn’t right. His hands lock behind his head as he calls Danny’s name, over and over, then he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket, running down the path to the bottom. You can hear Baker whisper “shit”, and then the only thing we can see is the ground as he runs to help.
Thayer stops the video, most likely not wanting to see what comes next. I don’t blame him. Holden does the same, throwing his phone onto the table in front of him.
“He smashed my camera, but he didn’t think about my phone,” Baker says.
“The whole thing is recorded. This is how you take him down.” Christian looks between us, gauging our reactions.
“But it implicates you, too,” I say, stating the obvious.
He lifts a shoulder. “I’m ready.”
“Talk to me,” I murmur, running my fingers through Thayer’s hair that’s still damp from his shower. His head is on my chest, his arm hooked around me, holding me close. Christian left a couple hours ago with the promise to turn himself in tomorrow. I think I’m still in a state of shock, so I can’t even imagine how Thayer must feel. Selfishly, I’m scared he’s going to shut down and push me away again. I don’t want to fall asleep, afraid I’ll wake up tomorrow and everything will have changed.
“I should’ve known. I should’ve seen something,” he says, sounding like he’s on the brink of sleep.
“You couldn’t have,” I say. “And it’s time to stop blaming yourself.”
It’s somewhat comforting that Danny wasn’t killed in cold blood, but somehow, I don’t think that would be the right thing to say. Thayer doesn’t respond, and eventually, I hear his breathing even out, telling me he fell asleep.
Thayer
Shayne’s body is like a furnace against me when I wake up. Her back is to my chest and both my arms are locked around her upper arms, like I was holding onto her, even in my sleep. I expected to feel like shit when I woke up after last night’s revelations, but instead I feel…free. Like maybe I can finally move on now that I know what happened to my brother, even if it meant losing my cousin.
Shayne stirs in my arms, arching her back on a stretch, and then she turns in my arms to face me, sleepy, blue eyes meeting mine.
“You’re still here,” she says, her voice raspy with sleep.
I pick up her wrist, bringing it to my lips to kiss the scar there. “Where else would I be?”
Shayne
4 months later…
Opening the door to my room, I toss my backpack onto my bed, noticing an envelope on my pillow. I round the bed, plucking it off from the comforter. Shaking it, I feel something heavier than paper inside. I open it, finding the rusted