Page 80 of The Engagement Party

Sierra finally blinked. “Who needs a gun.”

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Sierra

The rampaging noise in Sierra’s head refused to die down. A mix of adrenaline and fear crashed through her. After years of loving Mitch and wondering if she could ever take another person’s life she had her answer. She could be pushed to a place where she welcomed the darkness, even wallowed in it.

She’d filled that swing with her anger and rage. Let each shaky, panic-filled minute of being on this island fuel her. The crack against his skull was her answer to every smirk, every feral laugh, every life Dylan took.

Standing there, she couldn’t stop shaking. Her body felt wobbly and out of balance. The poker bobbled in her hand until Mitch gently took it from her and threw it on the ground.

Sierra couldn’t muster a second of relief or lightness. Not when she glanced over and saw Will’s lifeless body. She’d only really known a reflection of him through Mitch. He’d viewed Will as trapped by his upbringing. Lonely in a room full of people. Desperately searching for something he couldn’t define.

Did one heinous act define a person? Maybe. Probably not. All she knew was that atonement didn’t stop with a confession,and it took more than twelve years and profound duress for Will to even muster that.

Most people could go through their entire lives without seeing a dead body. She’d had three thrown in front of her in about twelve hours and watched Will bleed out at her feet. She couldn’t process the loss. Her brain balked at every moment, including the dread of what this would do to Mitch. He kept moving, as if compartmentalizing the grief from the danger. Smart, but a person could only live in that sort of fantasy for so long.

“You’re right. Heroes don’t need guns,” Mitch said.

“Well, I do.” Cassie bent down and scooped up Dylan’s abandoned gun. She checked the chamber and seemed satisfied with what she saw.

Her tone sent a warning skidding across Sierra’s already frazzled nerves. “What are you—”

Cassie moved before Sierra could guess her intentions. One second she held a gun. The next second, she bent down and when she stood up again she held two.

“Give me my gun,” Ruthie demanded.

Cassie ignored the uncomfortable shuffling around her. “We need to figure out what we do next. What we say to people. It’s not as simple as calling the police and volunteering statements.”

“This isn’t hard, Cassie,” Mitch said. “We get off this island, call the police, and have Dylan arrested.”

Cassie shook her head. “You know that can’t happen.”

The sky lightened to a soft gray, hinting at the coming dawn, but Sierra didn’t feel an ounce of relief. Just as they’d neutralized one, another hazard roared to life. This one was even more dangerous because she had so much to lose. Cassie’s commentsweren’t about Dylan or the island. They were about hiding the secrets she’d dedicated her life to protecting.

“Because Alex was there when Brendan died.” Sierra didn’t phrase it as a question because she didn’t have to. There was no other explanation for Cassie’s fierce hold on her version of the truth. “That’s the problem, right?”

“No.” Mitch swore under his breath. “Come on. No.”

“I swear it was an accident.” Alex struggled to his feet with Cassie’s help. “We were only trying to scare him.”

Cassie put a hand in front of his face. “Stop talking.”

Sierra had guessed and assumed as Will divulged his secrets. The group of friends had been inseparable back then, so Alex tagging along made sense. The unspoken part, the idea she refused to acknowledge, was that it would have been normal for Mitch to be there, too. So far, nothing in the conversation pointed to that, but she braced for the admission.

As it stood now, the story was the type that had repeated throughout history without fail. Three young men, high on anger and testosterone, threatened a weaker one. They bullied and berated him until he died. Jake, Alex, and Will might not have pushed Brendan off that bridge, but they contributed to his death. Sierra didn’t know much about the law, but she knew Cassie would never tolerate having that sort of information about her past and her husband become public.

“There is a clean ending here. Jake and Will paid a terrible price for the bad decisions they made years ago. Only Dylan has to answer for the carnage today. Not anyone else.” Cassie delivered the comments like a closing argument, challenging them all to continue on as reluctant coconspirators to the awful secret.

The wind had finally died down. It kicked up in gusts nowand then but the steady battering had subsided. Sierra almost didn’t notice until the quiet fell over the group.

Ruthie was the one to break the silence. “Tyler and two of your friends are dead and you’re worried about your legal exposure?”

Cassie’s gaze traveled over Will and some of her rigid self-confidence faltered. She didn’t cry but her chin bobbed and unshed tears filled her eyes. She sniffed them back, as if refusing to let them fall. The brief hint of humanity clashed with her tough talk, and in a flash the emotion disappeared.

“We didn’t come this far to lose now.” Cassie unloaded Ruthie’s gun then handed it back to her. “Look at that. Dylan was lying, which makes me wonder why you didn’t just shoot him and end this thing. Maybe you were partners outside of bed, just as he suggested?” Cassie continued to her next thought before Ruthie could answer. “But now I have the only gun with bullets. So, unless someone plans to hit me with a stick or the poker, I’m in charge.”

Mitch made a strange sound. Sierra thought it might be disgust, or the final door slamming on his loyalty to the past.

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