Page 53 of Watch Me Burn

Anna glanced in my direction. “I was thinking we should look into the cabin you were talking about . . . if you don’t mind.”

She was obviously trying to be strong, and was doing an amazing job at it!

I peered at the yearbooks and journal entries strewn across the table. Yes, we had a healthy pile of information, but it was hollow compared to the truth bomb we heard today.

As her sobs died down, Lisa clarified, “It’s still there. I know it.”

“Have you been back there?” Anna wondered.

Her voice was thick with emotion. “I can’t explain it, but I can just feel it. Your father was killed before he could clear any evidence. I can show you the way to the cabin. But please . . . if you find anything, keep it away from the public eye. I’ve spent years rebuilding my life. Now, with my children involved, I can’t risk unraveling everything. Even discussing this makes my stomach turn. John got what he deserved, and I’ve made peace with that dark chapter of my life. It doesn’t control me anymore.”

Anna took her hand in support. “I promise.”

“Do you have any idea who could have killed John Hudson?” I asked, looking straight at Lisa. She shook her head.

“No, but if there were other girls, the list is endless.” She must have seen the disappointment in my eyes. “But I’ll give you the directions. Hopefully you’ll find what you’re looking for and show the world who he really was.”

Nothing could describe what I was feeling at that moment. A weight lifted in my shoulders—we were getting closer to the truth behind all of this, I was sure of it—but where relief washed over me, horror and shame jolted my body. This wasn’t the John Hudson I knew. This new man was a liar, a pervert, and worst of all, a sex offender.

If we did find some horrifying evidence in that cabin, would we even be able to blame the real culprit behind John’s murder? He should’ve been thrown behind bars months before that afternoon had even arrived. Yet, an innocent was locked on the inside and a poor, young girl was expected to live her life quietly as everyone mourned John’s death like he was a demigod.

We had to dig up something at that cabin. The idea that I spent fifteen years in the slammer because some creep offed John over secrets or blackmail?

Fuck no!

Chapter 24

Anna

Ethan and I ducked beneath snarling vines and sloping trees. We were on our way to the cabin Lisa directed us to, which was thankfully marked on a trail with landmarks. Not that there was really a path remaining to safely walk through—in the fifteen minutes we’d walked from my car into the woods, we’d gotten nicked by woodchips and nearly tripped over branches. I was starting to believe we turned onto the wrong dirt road when I glimpsed a building in the distance.

“Ethan!” I exclaimed. Supporting me by the small of my back, he stopped to stay by my side.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled.

I nodded hesitantly. On one hand, I was thrilled that the shack was still there. But on the other hand . . . I didn’t really want to see the truth with my own eyes. I felt sick just thinking about it. The man I loved dearly . . . a monster! The thought of an old man hitting on a young girl was gross enough—to see the leftover bits of their sexual predation was even worse.

Ethan gazed down at me with worry. “Do you need a breather first?”

I scanned the area. There was some strange calm to be found here between old, big trees and the odor of moss and isolation. But I felt an extra chill to be so far away from others in what we knew to once be hell for Lisa and most likely other girls.

And yet . . . I had the responsibility to be courageous.

While I wasn’t at fault for my father’s actions, our family was the one who stood behind his glorified image in Ethan’s sentencing when Lisa was hurting secretly without anyone to turn to. And if I were being honest, would I have listened? I was a grieving child, one that was too weak to even advocate for my best friend. As overwhelming as my father’s loss was for me as a kid, there was a lot of hurt I spread that I needed to make up for now. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. Lisa fought her horrors for a long time on her own. It was time for me to brave this path with her and expose my father for who he was without involving her. Even if it would cause more hurt to my own family, it was the right thing to do and only might help bring peace to some of his victims.

“Let’s go in,” I told Ethan. He seemed skeptical at first but enveloped my hand in his as we both stepped up to the front door.

No windows were looking out of the cabin. The square slit that was etched into its side was boarded with planks of wood and a bunch of nails. Anyone walking by would think this looked sketchy. But the massive padlock on the door was a clear sign from a distance: “Don’t even think about getting in.”

“It’s like someone is watching us from the inside,” I whispered, though I knew that was impossible. “How do we get in without—” My words were cut off by Ethan’s powerful kick to the door. It burst open, sending wood chips scattering across the ground.

“Nice . . .” I faintly smiled.

We didn’t have to strain our necks for long to find what Lisa had referenced in this place. The minute we walked inside, we saw a stained bed. Its headboard was facing the door. A line of hooks was installed on the wall beside it, where a browned gag, grimy blindfold, and whip were hung. My stomach was already twirling as I surveyed that side of the room, but the right half was even worse.

On a table across from the bed, an old camera was set up and pointed straight at the bed. There were also a couple of dressers below it that I could only guess contained some tapes and more “accessories.”

“God,” Ethan scowled. He plugged his nose at the awful odor I was also beginning to notice. This room must’ve been crawling with mold and other bodily fluids. Being here was akin to touring a sewer, except real people were once imprisoned in these conditions.

---