Page 24 of Cedar Edge
For the last few years Ace, Logan and myself have worked tirelessly to purge this town of filth. The very same filth that sold Thea out it seems….
“Where the fuck is she?” I slam my fist into Rodger’s bloody face again and again, the red light of the purge mask bouncing off the blood as I do.
“I told you I don’t know.” Rodger spits. I hear feet shuffling behind me before Ace takes up residence in my peripheral. Logan doesn’t join us, instead staying back in the shadows, but I can hear him playing with his knife. The blade flicking in and out in a rhythmic sound. “I’m not her keeper!”
“This is your only chance to tell us where the fuck she went.” Ace growls.
Rodger shakes his head but I grip his throat hard, “Think about the next words from your mouth old man. I have no interest in hearing anymore lies.”
True fear flashes through his eyes before it transforms to disgust. “You want that pussy so bad boys?” He lets out a laugh. “That mask can’t hide you, Law. I know exactly who hangs out with my son.” He looks around my body. “And you Logan, the shadows can’t hide you. You three are going to let me out of here and I might not let your location slip to a certain MC that I know is looking for you.”
Ace snorts before he’s driving a hunting knife through Rodger’s hand. The man screams in agony as his son twists the blade back and forth. “You aren’t in the position to negotiate.” He says with low and dangerous authority. “And that MC you are threatening us with? I killed them. Every single one of them has donated their soul to my knife.”
The scent of urine fills the air as Rodger sees exactly who his son has become. “She left! She met some guy and left, that's all I know!” He cries out.
Ace doesn’t say a word as he pulls the knife from his fathers hand before the blade slashes across his throat. Rodger looks shocked for a moment before the blood starts pouring from the wound in a cascade of red.
“You think he’s telling the truth?” Logan asks from behind.
I pull the mask up and let it rest atop my head, catching Ace’s eyes. I can see the conflict in them. It’s the same conflictI have. We all remember the text message she sent us, talking about some guy. But… she had left all her belongings here and her room was so clean that it was suspicious.
“You saw her room. Thea was never that clean. If she did leave with some guy I don’t think it was entirely by choice.” I respond after a beat. I watch Ace carefully, the darkness crawling through his veins taking over like it’s some parasite infecting a host.
“She made her choice.” He says finally. “And it wasn’t us.”
“You honestly believe that?!” I yell as he brushes past me. He doesn’t respond. He just keeps walking, leaving Logan and I behind.
Each of us lost ourselves in different ways after that and while we always came home to one another at night we were fractured and broken. Consumed by darkness, regret and grief. Ace became The Reaper, Logan the playboy tattoo artist and me? I became the person who would protect those two from everything I could.
We had each worked our way through the evil that lined the streets of Cedar Edge, and beyond, working out that cluster of feelings through blood, violence and pain. We kicked out the MC that was making moves on our city and helped get The Dead Wanders back in. Everything had been falling into place, except the gaping hole that Thea left behind. And now to hear what she had been through and who put her through it. . .
My chest feels tight, my lungs starting to squeeze painfully. I can feel an attack building, even knowing we own the town, I can still feel it slithering up my neck. The fear of losing them all, of losing her again. It’s suffocating and if I let it, it’ll drown me right here in the middle of the August sunshine. I follow the old woodsteps off the porch and head to the barn, needing something to keep me level and grounded.
“The rescue”, as the barn is lovingly called, had been Logan’s idea, after we found an injured colt that someone had dumped off the highway. He had begged and begged to keep the tiny creature until Ace finally conceded and said yes. After that he brought home the draft horse with the broken leg. Followed by the pigs and Katana, the horse that I’m fairly certain is from Hell. Even having been raised on a ranch I get nervous around her. She hates me, loathes Ace and barely tolerates Logan.
As if to prove my point she lets out an annoyed huff the moment I enter the barn.
“Keep your panties on, I’m not here for you.” I grumble, glaring towards her. Her palomino appearance is deceiving, it gives her an almost angelic look. One would think she’d be pitch black to match her soul.
She stamps her hoof, pawing at the ground behind the door to her stall. I give her a wide berth, refusing to get in range for her to lean out and try to bite. I still have a scar on my ass from the first time I tried to brush her out. Her dark eyes stay on me as I head towards the back of the barn where the newest member of the group is recovering.
Peering over the door I smile as the white mare lifts her head and watches me enter. “Oh look at you, you look so much better.” I coo as I walk slowly towards her. She huffs, not in an angry way like Katana but more in acknowledgement of the words.
The once over pronounced ribcage is now slowly being covered up with regular feedings. Her owner had starved her to the point of death, and I take great pleasure in knowing Ace is doing the exact same thing to him. The man is currently rotting away in our cellar, typically used to slice and dice food for the pigs; it's currently being used to show him what it's like to starve.
Going through the motions I examine the hoof that had been ravaged with infection before grabbing the brush and slowly starting to run it over her smooth, snow white, hide. She watches me thoughtfully, never trying to escape or bite me. It makes it that much more terrible the state we found her in. Or I suppose she found us, suddenly appearing out of the air and in our yard. The irony isn’t lost on me that Thea is very similar to these creatures and I take great comfort in knowing Royce will be meeting a very bloody, fucking end.
I never understood being cruel to animals, sure death is part of life but cruelty doesn’t need to be. Not with things as innocent as animals. Even Katana, despite being a total asshole, didn’t deserve the shit she was put through. And yet, here we are, running an unofficial rescue for animals that have been treated horrifically.
I shake my head, dropping the brush, and patting her rump as I push to a stand.
“Alright girl, let’s try standing shall we?” She huffs, this time the sentiment is very much ‘the fuck I will’ and she remains firmly planted on the ground. Despite having no broken bones, no other injuries aside from the infection and malnourishment she has refused to walk. “Come on girl, you gotta try.” But she remains firmly planted on the ground, her eyes boring into my soul as if she’s telepathically telling me to fuck right off.
Planting my hands on my hips, I shake my head one last time before leaving her stable, “you know, you could come with me… out here….” I wave towards the open barn but she refuses, laying her head right back down. “Alright, alright. We’ll try again tomorrow.” I feel a kinship to this particular horse, her refusal to go outside feeling so similar to the anxiety that often plagues my brain. The very anxiety that sent me into this barn in the first place.
I let the rest of the routine flow through me, cleaning and feeding and tending to each beast we have under our care. The movements are second nature to me, calming the thought spirals that had been trying to drown me. Instead, the thoughts appear in a logical fashion, no longer a deluge but now a slow trickle as I contemplate my next move with Thea. We owe her an explanation outside of the apology that needs to be had on our hands and knees. Because she’s right, we did leave her here. Unintentionally but none the less we left her. And because of that, because ofus, she was opened up to the world of hurt known as Royce Ripkins III.
My fist balls tightly, the energy that had been building with the spiral slamming back into me. My body is begging to fight someone or something. The anger I feel towards myself for leaving her vulnerable never seems to ease, if anything it’s worse now that I see the damage he did.
