Burn (Bayonet Scars #5)

Jeremy walks back outside with Grady on his heels. Grady’s got a cell phone to his ear. I’m not left to question who he’s talking to when he says, “Love you, babe. Keep yourself home. No, I’m headed to—” He cuts himself off when we make eye contact while he closes the back of the van up. Holly must finish his thought, because he agrees into the phone and then shoves the thing in his pocket and climbs into the passenger side of the van. Jeremy starts her up and they peel out. From what I can tell, Ian, Duke, and Ryan are with Darren and his family. And it seems Grady and Jeremy are on their way there, too.

Nobody is being particularly open and helpful with information around me, and they’re acting shady as hell, which tells me that something is going down that Ian doesn’t want me to know about. He must have given the orders when he was with everybody earlier, because I still have his phone. When the brothers poured out of the chapel after the “come to Jesus” interrogation on Fish, they headed to the tables and grabbed for their weapons and phones before rushing off on their bikes. I didn’t even get a good idea of what was going on then. Ian had Jeremy hole me up in Ian’s bedroom, so I was forced to wait in there until they’d had Fish bound and gagged. By the time we emerged, Ian was gone.

“Ian?” Holly shouts into her phone as she answers my call. I shake off her confusion and get to explaining myself quickly, hoping she can see reason.

“Nope, it’s Minds. I have Ian’s phone.”

“Oh,” she says and waits a beat. “What’s up?”

“I know you know where Ian is. I need you to tell me.”

“Mindy,” she says carefully. Holly has this way about her, where she gives everything away even if she doesn’t know it. She always sounds like this when she’s trying to hide something from me. She blows out a breath on the other end of the line. “Let him take care of this.”

“I don’t want to stop him,” I say. “I just need to know that he’s okay. Sitting here waiting is killing me.”

“Honey, you have to let them deal with this stuff in their own way. You don’t want to see how they do it.” Holly keeps telling me what I don’t want to see or remember, like the cross she bears is so much worse than mine.

“Real talk. Do you regret what you did?” We don’t talk about this. It’s painful enough for both of us to have experienced it once, let alone choosing to relive it together. But I need to get through to her now, even if it means admitting a truth I’d rather deny.

“Not for a single second,” she says. Her voice edges on defeat as she comes to realize she won’t win this argument. She’s going to tell me where they’re at—it’s only a matter of time now.

“You were protecting the man you love, you were protecting me. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for that.”

“I don’t need to be thanked,” she says, taking on one last defense before she cracks. I know her too well to think she won’t give in soon.

“I know,” I say. My thanking Holly for killing my rapist is uncomfortable for her, like it’s a gift she’s given me but doesn’t like to be reminded of. “Do you wish you hadn’t done it?”

“No. Somebody had to.”

“Doing it yourself was kind of therapeutic, huh?”

“I really shouldn’t tell you where he is, Minds,” she says carefully.

“I’d tell you,” I say. She knows I would. I’d want to protect her as much as I could, but I’d still respect her need to see the man who hired her rapists pay with her own eyes.

“I wish you didn’t need this, but I get it. Grady told me about that stunt with Leo, ya know. He had trouble wrapping his head around why you did it, but I know why. Sometimes violence is the answer, and sometimes the only way to feel in control is to dole out the punishment yourself.”

“Remember when we were kids? Dad and Uncle Edgar would tell us that violence doesn’t solve anything.” Of course Holly remembers—we only heard it every day of our lives. “Dad doesn’t really talk like that anymore.”

“No, I can’t imagine he does.”

My dad’s changed, in many ways, just like I have. His unshakable faith in right and wrong has been destroyed. He used to hate the club and everything they stand for. It’s not like he likes them now or anything, but I think he understands them better. At least, I know he understands Ian. Contrary to everything I thought I knew about my father, there’s still so much I don’t understand. I tried to and failed, but just like Holly, I couldn’t live up to the Mercer family ideal of perfection.

“The last thing I want to do is to help you hurt yourself,” Holly says on a sigh.

“You’re not.” My voice is so quiet, I’m practically whispering. “I’m finally starting to heal. Larry Jennings tried to hurt Nic and kill Robin, but he got me raped instead. I have to do this.”

Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall down my cheeks. Aside from Holly, the only other person I think might understand my needing this is Ian.

“Maybe you’re right, and this will help you. Nic is better after she . . . nevermind. I love you, honey. They’re at the Jennings’ house.”

“Love you, Holls.”