Chapter 8

Sunday 12.34am

Scarlett

I open my eyes to white light and the sound of familiar voices. I pry my eyes open to find my mom holding my hand.

I blink, eyes swollen and gritty and she starts to cry as dad takes a seat by my feet.

Neither says anything and for a few seconds I wonder if I’m dreaming all this, then mom starts to stroke my hand. “Oh, honey. What on earth were you doing in a mine in the middle of the night?”

I try to speak, but it takes a few attempts before anything comes out. “Michael,” I choke out.

A dark look crosses dad’s face while mom looks puzzled. “You were still looking for Michael? Is that why you left the motel?”

Dad shakes his head and looks at my bandaged hand. “I’m going to go speak with that Detective Vance again and see if I can’t find out what’s going on.”

My mother’s face is pale as she nods vaguely. “See if you can find Chelsea too. She’ll want to speak to her sister now she’s awake. I think she was with Michael’s father.”

Dad eases off the bed, his jaw working as he looks over my face. He doesn’t say a word, and he doesn’t have to.

The angrier my father is, the quieter he gets. And that he’s not saying a word is slightly alarming.

While mom fusses over me, she tells me how wonderful Michael’s father has been, so supportive, so kind, while his mother was so distressed a doctor had to sedate her.

I take all this in with a complete lack of interest, my eyes on the door, hoping Dexter will walk in and explain to me what the hell is going on.

My mother is still speaking when Chelsea walks into the room looking even more out of sorts than she was the last time I saw her.

Her hand goes to her mouth and as she looks me over, she looks close to throwing up.

Mom extricates herself from my beside stifling a yawn as she smiles down at me. “I’ll go get some coffee. I’ll be right back.”

Tears brew in her eyes, and her bottom lip starts to quiver, letting me know she’s trying to hold it together for my sake.

I pat her hand and force a smile. “I’m fine.”

She nods and presses her lips together as if that might stop her tears from falling.

I’m a little surprised when she sends Chelsea a warning look as she walks out the door.

Chelsea sits in the chair mom vacated and manages a tiny smile. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was…”

“A psycho?”

Her smile falters and she can’t seem to look at me. “I did something, sis. Something really dumb.”

I snort and gesture to my bandaged hand. “Dumber than thinking a snake was a broom handle?”

Her lips flicker but she doesn’t smile. When she does look up, her eyes are filled with unshed tears I’m not sure are for me. “I went to this party with Michael. But he left. His dad was there. And there were drugs, and lots of people. Then it got…”

I pull a face at her confused as to what she’s confessing to. “You did drugs?”

She shrugs. “Um. Yes. And more. I kind of had a, um, thing.”

I stare at her, still not comprehending. “I’m tired Chelsea. Just spit it out.”

She swallows hard. “Michael doesn’t. We don’t. I mean we haven’t had sex. I thought it was out of respect, but it wasn’t.”

I blink a couple times, so exhausted I’m barely able to see straight let alone decipher what it is Chelsea did that was so bad. “You cheated on Michael? Is that it?”

She starts to pull at the blanket covering me. “You have to understand. I was high, and it just sort of happened. Nathan invited me to this VIP room. We did a few lines, and then this dancer started stripping. The next thing I know, I’m kissing Nathan, and everyone in the room is naked.”

My mouth slackens and I just stare at her as she keeps trying to explain herself. “I thought it was a one-time thing—an accident. But Nathan said it was the perfect arrangement. Michael needed a wife for tax reasons and Nathan can be very persuasive.”

I finally find my voice, but it comes out a squeak. “When did this happen?”

She manages to look as sheepish as she should. “The party happened a month ago. The morning after Nathan asked me if I’d agree to marry Michael. It was meant to be a business arrangement.”

I’m so shocked, I just stare at her until she starts to chew her perfectly manicured fingernails. “What the fuck Chelsea? His dad took you to an orgy then asked you to marry his son?”

She keeps chewing, sitting on the edge of her seat, looking about as ashamed as herself as she should right now. “I know. Oh God, I know. It’s so bad. But it was exciting, you know? These people, they don’t live by the same rules we do. And Nathan wanted me with him. He wanted to open my eyes.”

I groan and slump back against the pillow. “He wanted you as his mistress. His wife probably wasn’t interested in sex parties. Is that why you were marrying Michael? Just so you could keep screwing his father?”

She runs her hands over her face. “I don’t know. I thought I was okay with the lack of sex. Then that happened with his father, and he was this sexy, older silver fox, and he wanted me, and he paid me so much attention and bought me so many gifts to make up for Michael.”

I shake my head. “How the hell did this happen? We both had the same parents, they’re pretty happy together, what are we doing wrong?”

She shakes her head. “You aren’t doing anything wrong. I’m the screw-up. I’m the one who nearly got you killed because I wanted some excitement in my life. I don’t even remember half of that night. What if I screwed more people than I realized?”

She looks so horrified; I lay off judging her and frown at the strange insignia on the wall. “Where am I?”

She follows my gaze and leans back so I can see the door mom walked through. “At the Air Force Base. Dexter brought you here. It was the closest hospital. Well, that’s what the two detectives in the visitors' room said. They’ll be moving you to a regular hospital soon.”

I frown at her as I try hard not to think about why Dexter isn’t here, but I am. Instead of thinking about the mess I’m in, I think about the mess my little sister is in.

I haven’t even met Michael’s father, but I have seen a picture of him. “Don’t you ever stop to think before you act?”

Chelsea swallows hard. “Please don’t judge me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I swear I thought it was a one-time thing, but he’s so…”

I glare at her. “Rich?”

She winces. “It’s not just that. It was like he was important, and successful, and he made me feel like I was those things too.”

I don’t know if it’s the snake bite, or whatever it is they gave me here, or Chelsea’s disclosure, but bile starts to rise to my throat, and I know I’m going to vomit.

I don’t have any warning before I throw up all over a horrified Chelsea.

As she leaps to her feet, covered in vomit, a tiny part of me, the nasty side, is more than a little happy about.

She presses the buzzer for the nurse, and just like when we were at home, it’s mom who rushes in ready to clear up the mess.

Only this time, I’m pretty sure this isn’t a mess mom can clear up for Chelsea.

***

Dexter

I almost about to approach the airstrip again and running on pure adrenaline and caffeine when my phone buzzes.

I snatch it off the seat beside me and let out my breath in a rush of air when I read the text from Vance.

Doc says you got to her in time.

I clear my throat. “Are you still receiving?”

The reply comes back instantly.

Loud and clear.

I tap out on to the number Michael gave me telling him I’m about to land, delete all the messages just in case, and slide my phone back into my pocket.

I’m fighting against fatigue as I land in a crosswind and come to a stop right where I left Michael.

In the black, with the moon behind a cloud I can’t see anyone. And I’m pretty sure he’s found a rock to crawl under while he waited for me to get back.

Since it was easier to tell the truth about Scarlett, Vance and Sanchez, and whoever the hell else is listening, all now about our few hours spent in bed.

With the sounds of the engine cooling, and my flashlight in my hand, I reach the slope and see the entrance to the mine, and Michael propped up, half asleep.

Keeping my anger in check is getting harder and harder, but Vance is right, this asshole is going to keep on doing whatever he likes if someone doesn’t put him away.

Rather than beat the shit out of him, I steel myself to play nice to the man who left the woman I care about out here to die.

He doesn’t move as I approach, so I kick his leg. “Wake up. I don’t have long.”

Michael jerks awake and shakes off his doze before growling at me. “You took your time.”

He rises slowly and I can almost feel him looking down his nose at me. “Did you see the cops?”

I glare at him. “Of course, I did. They’re crawling all over the place thanks to you. I had to get clearance from my Squad Leader to leave the base.”

His eyes narrow. “Did you tell anyone you saw me here?”

I shake my head at him. “I told them what we agreed. I found Scarlett here in the mine. She’d fallen and been bitten.”

It burns at me he accepts that without question. He’s so used to people doing what he says, so accustomed to getting away with shit like this, he just accepts that I’d cover for him.

I store it all away and take great pleasure in knowing when this is all over, I can pay him back for hitting my woman.

I blink. Fuck. My woman? When did I start thinking about her that way?

I eye him and know exactly when I started. The second I saw her lying in the dirt, bleeding, and I couldn’t imagine going back to the base and never seeing her again.

Whatever the little tussle in the bedroom started out as, it’s turned into more than I anticipated feeling.

Michael is talking to me, and I almost miss what the little snot is saying. “Did you file a flight plan? Do they know you were coming here?”

I shake my head at him and squeeze the flashlight a little tighter. “What do I look like? An idiot?”

When he doesn’t answer and I’m losing my cool, I spin on my heel and stalk back to the Cessna.

He better start talking soon, because my restraint and my patience is fast wearing out.

The only thing keeping me from pounding him into the dust is the knowledge that if I don’t get something on him, the only person who can speak up against him is currently laid up in hospital.

I don’t need to think too long on what potential damage that could do to Scarlett and to her family.

I get back in the Cessna and try not to glower at him as he takes a seat up front in the cockpit with me.

Since it’s the first time he’s done it, I know this is getting serious. I run through the checklist, ignoring his obvious impatience and look at him. “You want to tell me where I’m flying?”

He slides his hand inside his dusty jacket pocket. “These are the coordinates.”

Co-ordinates? Only pilots and navigators use co-ordinates.

I take the paper and frown.

41°24'12.2"N 2°10'26.5"E.

I shoot him a look and punch the numbers into the navigation. When it comes up, I switch the engine on and repeat them for the benefit of Vance and Sanchez.

“Cryer’s End Airstrip?”

He gestures to the runway. “Go.”

I shake my head. “Not until you tell me who’s going to be waiting there when I land. I’ve stuck my neck out far enough for this gig. I’m not about to walk into something that could get me killed.”

Anger flickers over his face as he twists in his seat and jabs a finger at me. “Get this thing in the air now or I’ll contact my father and make sure you never fly again.”

Considering he’s doing everything he can to avoid speaking to his father, I highly doubt he has any real sway over him.

I lean closer to him and curl my lip as I growl at him. “Do it. Make the call. I’ve had it up to here with your bullshit. Tell me who’ll be waiting and why you need to be there or find another pilot.”

His face flushes crimson and I can see a vein bulging at the side of his bruised face. But he’s too much of a coward and in too deep to risk not getting to Cryer’s End.

And there is no chance he’ll find another pilot this late in the game. He just glares at me, unmoving, so I up the ante. “Tell me who is waiting, or I fly back to your father and you tell him you’re hiding out here.”

His face blanches and I know I’ve got him. He damn near spits the words at me. “I don’t know their names. I just have a phone number and the coordinates they left at the mine.”

I can’t exactly push him, but at least I know why he was at the mine in the middle of the night. If they were using it as a drop point to communicate, it makes sense.

Rather than ask how they were communicating, I just shake my head at him. “I need to know what I’m doing here. I could lose my license if I get caught with illegal contraband.”

He sneers at me. “Let me guess. You want a cut?”

I know that’s what he expects of me, so I laugh at him. “I’m not dumb enough to want to be a part of this. I’ll fly you there, but the second I drop you off, I’m gone.”

He manages to look indignant. “You can’t leave me there.”

I’m done playing games with this little shit, so I shrug. “Tell me what you’re doing, and I’ll consider sticking around.”

He seems to be mulling it over, so I crack my knuckles. “If these guys are as serious as you think they are, you’ll need more than a pilot. You’ll need a bodyguard. Lucky for you, I can be both.”

His face twists into a scowl but he nods slowly. “Fine. Three men will be meeting us. All will be heavily armed, and they’ll expect to find an antique diamond sewn into the lining of the seat the hamper was on.”

My eyebrows raise. So that’s why the damn hamper was important. It was marking the spot. “And where did you get the diamond from?”

He looks so smug; I know he’s going to spill the beans just to prove how smart he is. “Plenty of abandoned safe deposit boxes in old banks around here. People left in a hurry and they didn’t always retrieve their belongings. If you know what you’re doing, you can get access.”

The scam sounds vaguely familiar, but I’m a little disappointed it’s something so low key. I’d expected drugs or guns.

“And these people waiting for you want the diamond?”

He nods a little too eagerly. “And when they cough up, you’ll take me as far away from this dust pit as I can go.”

I just stare at him. “You aren’t worried I’ll tell the cops?”

He has the arrogance to laugh at me. “No. Because you’d be an accomplice and my father has some of the best lawyers in Boston. What do you have?”

I’m so angry, and so past the point of caring, I start to laugh at him as I picture every last thing that’ll happen to him in jail.

He straightens and looks puzzled as I laugh so much my stomach starts to ache. “What are you laughing at?”

I swipe my eyes and have to force myself to stop picturing smashing my fist into his face until he’s incapable of speech.

The only thing stopping me from acting on it, is that I need to be sure Vance and Sanchez are on their way.

When I’ve calmed down and I know I can’t stall any longer, I switch the engine off. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Before he can speak, I grab the keys, and jump out of the plane. I back up a little, slide the keys in my pocket, and find a smile as I catch sight of the flashing blue and red lights just visible in the distance.

Knowing they are coming means I no longer have to hold myself in check.

I meet him as he rounds the plane a furious expression on his face. “What are—”

My fist slams into his mouth, but I don’t stop. I smash my fist into his nose, hear the bone break, and send him flying backward.

He hits the tarmac with a scream, so I straddle him, and I keep hammering on him until sweat is dripping off me and someone is calling my name.

I’m hauled off Michael, leaving him in a puddle of his own blood, my knuckles torn and bleeding, and my fists throbbing.

Vance drags me away as Sanchez shakes her head. “Take the wire off. Before you wreck it.”

While I’m recovering, trying to catch my breath, Vance draws me away from the dozens of cops arriving. She looks at Michael, then me, and I’m sure I hear a touch of amusement when she speaks to the paramedic on hand. “Looks like he sustained the majority of these injuries some time ago, wouldn’t you say?”

The medic eyes her, but something passes between them that lets me know they have already discussed this.

For whatever reason, the paramedic just gets to work on a now groaning Michael.

As the cops set about checking the plane, with Sanchez directing them, Vance helps me remove the wire and hands it off to a waiting uniform.

He glances at Michael’s unmoving body and a faint smile appears. “You aren’t the only one losing his temper tonight. Carl Sanders made good use of his boxing skills on Michael’s father.”

I take a shuddering breath. “What? Why?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Turns out his youngest daughter was more interested in Burrows Snr. Chelsea confessed when I interviewed her at the base. For some reason Burrows got wind there was something going on at the base and showed up minus his wife. I had to break up the fight and convince Burrows not to press charges.”

I don’t have to think too hard on how Burrows knew I’d landed at the base. The Squadron Leader would have reported to the Wing Commander.

I don’t even have to think too hard on the Chelsea situation.

Given how little attention I saw Michael paid Chelsea and how much his father did and it’s not too big of a jump to see why she’d target the older, and much, much wealthier father.

Given her own father seems to be a stand-up guy, I can’t imagine this is going to play out well for her. Especially not now.

If I could respect the man even more, I don’t see how it’s possible.

I give Vance a wry smile as I look at the plane. “This weekend just gets even more and more fucked up.”

Vance manages to crack a smile. “Tell me about it.”

***

Scarlett

Sunday 2.13am

I’m dozing and waiting for the ambulance to come to transfer me when mom comes back in the room without Chelsea. From the look on her face, something else has happened.

I force myself up as she takes a seat. “The ambulance should be here in a few minutes.”

She stifles a yawn as I adjust myself on the bed. “Where’s Chelsea?”

The last time I saw her, she was being sent off to change into scrubs—the only thing she could wear until she could go back to the villa.

Mom doesn’t seem to be able to meet my eye, but there’s color in her cheeks when she speaks. “Chelsea has been taken back to West Fork along with your father.”

She’s speaking so quietly I have to lean closer. “Taken by who? The police?”

If the police are here, I need to talk to them. Mom looks at me, and flinches. “Yes, by the police. The detective who was here earlier thought it best if your father and Chelsea were away from here, and from…Nathan.”

The way her voice catches on the last word, it’s obvious she knows about Chelsea. “She told you?”

Mom nods and looks equally grim and disappointed. Rather than discuss Chelsea’s bizarre relationship I focus on the other Burrow’s in trouble. “What’s happening with Michael? Have they found him yet?”

She shrugs her thin shoulders. “They won’t tell us. They won’t tell us anything. Just that you’ll need to give a statement as soon as you’re able.”

She shifts closer and looks over her shoulder before speaking again. “Who are these Burrows people? The more time I spend with them I wonder if they aren’t criminals.”

I have no idea if Michael’s entire family are as bad as he is. I never got the chance to meet them at the wedding. “I don’t know, mom. I just know Michael didn’t want to marry Chelsea. He was in Macetown for something illegal.”

She shifts closer and takes my uninjured hand in hers. “I can’t beat someone to a pulp like your father can, but I swear if I get my hands-on Michael Burrows…I’ll find a goddam snake and shove it up his ass.”

I choke on a laugh as she looks so fierce, I have no doubt she’d do it if given a chance.

“And as for Chelsea. I’m not sure if your father is speaking to her right now. And I’m not sure I want to either. It’ll take a lot more than a teary apology to redeem herself for this one. Your father and I have never been more humiliated in our entire lives.”

Her eyes mist and she looks exhausted under her fading makeup. I squeeze her hand and try to smile.

She must be devastated. If everything had gone to plan, Chelsea would be married and on her honeymoon by now.

But somehow, the idea of her being married to a man like Michael, is so much worse than her sleeping with his father and everything that’s happened. “Where’s everyone else? The wedding guests?”

She blows out a breath. “Ready to leave I imagine. There’s no wedding. And aside from you being here with us, there’s no good reason to celebrate much of anything.”

I slump back on the pillow, mouth dry, and completely depleted of all energy.

Mom seems to see I’m done talking and we both sit in silence, listening to the occasional noise from outside, until the doors open, and a pair of paramedics arrive to take me to a regular hospital.

The younger of the two winks at me. “You must be someone pretty important to get a private room in an Air Force Base Hospital.”

Despite myself, I smile back at him. “No. I’m not important. But I do know a really great pilot,” I say.