Catching Summer (Second Chances, #6)

“We found the money by snooping, Summer. Levi has no clue that we know. What I find with Peter will determine our next step. We’ll have some answers soon—don’t worry. I’ll be in touch later today.”

After we hung up, Evan and I lay back on the bed. “What do you think?” I asked. “Do you think this Peter guy was just strung out on drugs?”

Evan released a sigh. “I don’t know. It still doesn’t change the fact that Bri died senselessly. I thought it would give us some sort of satisfaction to bring the fucker to justice, but now he’s dead. It’s over.”

“Are you going to call Derek and tell him?”

He sat up and got out of bed. “Actually, I’m going to go to his house. Do you want to come with me?”

“What about practice? You’ll be late.”

“I don’t care. This needs to be done.” We both got dressed quickly and I grabbed a granola bar before leaving the house. Derek lived just down the road, but every time we’d driven by we hadn’t seen any movement. He wasn’t answering the door, and his grass had grown about a foot tall. Evan parked in Derek’s driveway and we sat there.

“After practice, I’m going to come by here and cut his grass. I thought maybe he’d come around by now.”

We got out of the car and I followed him to the door. Evan knocked and rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. We spent about fifteen minutes banging on the door. “Where do you think he could be?”

Evan peered into one of the windows and huffed. “The bastard’s inside. I can see a mound of liquor bottles. Follow me.” He rushed around to the side of the house and through the gate.

“What are you going to do?” We climbed up the steps to the back porch, and Evan fiddled with the glass door. It was locked, but that didn’t stop him. He slammed his elbow into the glass, shattering it into a thousand pieces. He reached inside and unlocked the door, opening it carefully. “Evan, what the hell are you doing?”

Stepping inside, he reached for my hand. “I’m going to see my best friend, whether he likes it or not.” I could hear the sound of a television in back, and Evan led us in that direction. The house was a mess of food wrappers, beer bottles, and trash. It smelled horrible. We followed the sound down the hall to a bedroom at the far end. Evan kicked the door open and I closed my eyes, afraid of what I’d see.

“What the fuck,” Evan growled. I opened my eyes and saw Derek sitting there with a liquor bottle at his lips and an assortment of pills lying about. He glanced up at us, clearly drunk and doped up on pills.

“You owe me a new door, shithead,” he mumbled to Evan.

“A new door is the least of your problems, brother. What the hell are you doing?”

Derek held up his bottle. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re wasting your life away. This isn’t the way to handle Bri’s loss. I get that you’re hurt, but you have to keep on living.”

“Easy for you to say. Your girl is still here.”

Evan clenched his fists, but before he could lash out, I grabbed his arm. “Don’t,” I warned. “Let me talk to him.”

I had to climb over all the clutter around Derek’s chair to reach him. His glassy eyes stared back at me, but they were dead; the spark of life was gone. “Derek, listen to me. I know the pain you’re feeling. I don’t know if you know what happened to me, but I was there when my husband was murdered. I heard his bones break as they hit him and the way he gasped for air. For as long as I live, I will remember the terror of that night. I miss my husband and I will always love him. It took me two years to realize that even though he’s dead, I have to move on. Brianna wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

He closed his eyes and slowly set the bottle down. “I’m angry,” he admitted. “All I want to do is kill the fucker who ran us off the road. Better yet, I’d love to beat him with my bare hands and watch him die.”

“He’s already dead,” Evan murmured.

Derek’s eyes flashed open. “What do you mean he’s dead? What happened?”

Evan trudged over the pile of garbage and kneeled at Derek’s other side. “We got the call this morning. They found the guy who ran us off the road. He had a drug and DUI record. They think he overdosed.”

Derek sat up, growling. “So it’s over? He gets an easy escape. What kind of justice is that?”

“It’s not,” I replied softly, “but there’s nothing you can do.”

“Except come back to the team,” Evan added.

Derek snorted and picked the liquor bottle back up. “Fuck it all,” he said, lifting it to his lips. “I don’t give a shit anymore.”

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