Page 154 of The Ruthless Note

I guess this is how.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

DUTCH

“What do we know about the fire?” I growl, sitting coiled in the practice room, my guitar on my lap. I plucked it from the stand, but I haven’t played it since I entered.

“Jinx only reported what the police know. She won’t trade on who did it,” Finn says.

“Probably because she doesn’t know either,” Zane mumbles. He’s slouched behind the drums, twirling his sticks.

Since last night’s pep talk, he’s already implementing some changes too. Starting with getting a good night’s sleep for the first time in ages. It did him good. His eyes look clearer today.

“What the firedidis more important than who started it,” Finn notes. “Serena got cleared off the chessboard. Sol and Cadence are safe.”

My heart starts pounding. A sense of foreboding, similar to the kind I felt when I dropped Sol off at the hospital overtakes me.

“It wasn’t me.” Finn nods to Zane. “And it wasn’t him either.”

“It wasn’t me or Cadence. She was about to risk her life to save that friend of hers. We almost got blown to bits.”

“Who would have the motivation to pin it all on Serena?” Finn asks quietly.

I can’t deal with all the nervous energy in my chest. Pouncing to my feet, I set my guitar back into its stand and pace the practice room.

My brothers watch me with heavy, somber eyes.

At that moment, the door opens.

Sol stumbles in. His haunted eyes remind me of a ghost. His hair is messy and he’s wearing a uniform that’s wrinkled and dirty. The sleeves are short today. He’s not hiding his scars.

My heart slows down. I stare at Sol’s face, the face of a friend I’ve known for ages. The face of a brother. And I realize that I don’t recognize him anymore.

This summer, one Sol went into that boot camp.

And another Sol came out.

He walks calmly to the sofa and takes a seat. Finn and Zane’s eyes are glued to him.

No one moves.

No one even blinks.

The moment Sol collapses in the sofa, he flails his arms and sinks in, getting comfortable.

Fear clamps hard on my neck. I approach him slowly, carefully.

“Sol?”

He snorts out a laugh, mouth open and wrinkles pulling at the edges of his eyes. Tan fingers curl into a fist and he laughs again, but this time, he slams that fist into the sofa.

Zane leaves his drums and joins me as I approach Sol.

Finn is right behind us.

Sol bends over from laughing so hard, but why does it sound like desperate sobs to my ears. Tears stream down his face. His leg is in the air, and one arm is strung around his waist.

It’s like I’m watching a man fall apart in front of my very eyes.

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