Page 105 of Winter's End

Travis filled us in during the remainder of the drive. I was relieved that our Carlos ‘friend’ had followed through in the end, but the involvement of the twins—myotherbrothers—troubled me. Kellan was swapping out one cockroach for two more. Surely, that wasn’t a viable solution.

Georgio threatening Winter’s life to force Travis to commit murder infuriated me on two fronts. My best friend wouldhave killed himself or killed Janet before he would ever accept harm to our woman, and the crushing weight of that decision would have killed his soul if he hadn’t done the deed himself.

His layered trauma would require therapy, reflection, and time.

I would make sure this man did not fall apart before he had the chance to live the life he’d never allowed himself the luxury of dreaming of.

Solemn silence fell as the drive dragged on, commiserating our miseries in an old Dodgetruck.

CHAPTER 29

DREW

Hillary’s home was probably the nicest I’d ever seen, aside from Winter’s parent’s place. And it wasn’t even where she lived. I’d never be able to truly comprehend the level of wealth some people had.

We’d been here for almost a week, lying low, and attempting to make the best of our circumstances. Winter had slept for almost two days; we all took our turns holding her as she moved through the various phases of exhaustion that came from facing your abuser and having a gun pointed at your head.

Travis hadn’t fared much better, but some light reentered his eyes by day three or four. He checked in with his mom’s nurse every few hours, but there was no word from his brother. Logan had hired a security guard to watch their trailer as a safety measure, and he’d already been looking into care homes—not that he told Travis that.

Logan was an asshole, but he wasourasshole—and he was insufferably protective of his people. Or in this case—his people’s people. Since he and Travis had escaped that tunnel with Winter between them, they’d developed a bond I hadn’t thought Logan capable of. It was kind of cute, to be honest.

Darlene was safe and said she would come up to see us soon—turns out, Kellan’s safe house was only an hour’s drive from here. Cam hadn’t said much, not that he ever did, but his sparring with Logan over the last few days had been particularly violent.

I’d checked in on Mom and Dad earlier in the week. They were reassured to hear we were okay, but I kept most of the details out of our conversation. While Darren and Emmett’s fate seemed pretty set in stone, I had no idea how the FBI would treat my parent’s crimes, even if they were no longer involved. I held on to hope there would be leniency, but I was resigned to the fact that they’d made their own decisions and would have to live with the consequences.

Despite our scars and anxieties, we tried to live our lives as normal–or whatever normal could be for six people learning to be around each other 24/7.

Shane set up movie nights in the media room. We enjoyed the enormous pool in the backyard and shared the mundane tasks of cleaning and cooking.

Hillary had ordered a grocery delivery, and Travis and Cam took over dinner-time duties; The Carlos bloodline of our family were decent cooks, so we were all well-fed as we hid in our castle waiting for Kellan to let us know the coast was clear.

Shane had his ear glued to the Carlisle news station, regaling us with the daily play-by-play every evening.

A journalist reported that WAQ and Eccles Engineering were currently under investigation for several white-collar crimes, and all activities on the Sequoia County Bridge project were suspended until the authorities could determine the extent of the criminal behavior.

Emmett, Darren, Stanley, and Camden had been arrested, but were currently out on bail, with a compliance order to not leave the county. Winter and Shane had spoken with their parents briefly, but they were keeping their distance as the dominoes fell. This was the inevitable outcome, and we had done all we could do—morethan we could do as a group of twenty-something small-town average Joes with no special skills.

It was amazing we were still alive.

Brendan Anderson, the mysterious partner of WAQ who Winter had never met, turned out to be a pseudonym for Georgio. My memory niggled at the mention of that name in the news, and I looked back through my notes from the library. A Brendan Anderson was reported missing the same week Cheryl Simpson showed up dead at the bottom of the falls. We’d need Darren or Emmett to confirm it, but my guess was Brendan was Georgio’s initiation kill, and he’d forced the naming issue to drive the blackmail knife in a little further.

What a psychopathic bastard.

Kellan finally called another week later. We were getting stir-crazy and the tension within the house was at an all-time high. Logan barked orders to his poor secretary, Beth, hourly, and not even a surprise visit from Hillary had cheered Winter up.

Travis put our Viking extension of family on speaker as we crowded around the coffee table in the living room.

Kellan gruffly apologized for the delay and explained he’d been negotiating with his brothers to set up the ‘new-and-improved’ Carlos Cartel branch in our former part of the county. A ‘lesser evil,’ he called it; one he could monitor from afar. When he’d found out Georgio had cornered a group of ‘kids’, he hadn’t wanted us getting involved any more than we’d needed to, especially when he discovered two of the men in our group were his actual family.

“What about Marcie?” Winter asked from the cradle of my arms. “Why was she involved?”

“Your father’s girlfriend wasn’t a priority,” Kellan responded dismissively.

“You mean … she wasn’t your agent?” My Audrey Hepburn bit her lip in confusion at Kellan’s pause over the line.

“No,” he drawled. “Why did you think she was?”

“No reason,” Winter squeaked out, her brows knitted into a deep frown. Marcie had told Winter Darren was her assignment, didn’t she? Did shesayshe was the FBI?

---