Undone: The Complete Duology, page 22
Despite the ransacking, the man-in-the-moon ring was still in the box wedged in an old pair of boots in my closet. I plucked out the box, then returned to Mac in the kitchen.
He sat on a barstool, head in hands, watching the Tupperware with the boney hand inside. His gaze was a million miles away.
I came up behind him and slid my arms around him, holding the ring box. I leaned my head against his. “Hallmark had it all wrong about what women really want.”
His shoulders shook as he chuckled. He turned, pulling me around, and pressed a Vodka-infused kiss to my mouth. My body lit with desire, but I struggled to tamp it down.
“I need the ashes,” I said against his mouth.
“They’re in the glovebox of your jeep.”
“Great, then just grab our friend there and we’re on our way.”
“Yes, dear.” He nipped my lower lip then snatched up the plastic container as he stood.
As we strolled towards the door, I couldn’t push down the stupid grin.
He gave me a suspicious look, and I laughed.
“I was just thinking, you’re very…handy.”
He looked pained. I laughed harder as he shook the box with the skeletal hand at me then headed outside.
We drove in the jeep through the woods, scoping for the perfect camping location, which wasn’t exactly the same requirements between us. I needed to give Bobby a wide berth. Mac was concerned with the approaching storm. Already the clouds had gathered again, thicker and darker this time. The Feast was over. Winter would unleash its wrath before long.
Finally, we settled on a place, given we couldn’t drive too much farther before triggering the forest of no escape. We set up camp, then tucked inside the tent together with the sleeping bag laid flat as a cushion and the blankets draped over us. At least we had more room to stretch out than in the vehicle.
I kept all three elements of my spell in a small tote bag that I carried with me. No way I would let them out of my sight out here. Any number of bad fates could befall them.
The Goddess wouldn’t protect me from my own stupidity.
Mac spread his legs and patted the ground between his knees. I scooted up and over his thigh and nestled against him, my back to his chest. We seemed to have developed a mutual fondness for this position.
He laced his fingers with mine and rested our hands in my lap. “I need to know something.”
I tensed, but then forced myself to relax. I couldn’t give away that I had anything to hide.
“Where did the Reverend get all this…power?”
I relaxed further. Of course he wasn’t going to ask about Bobby. He didn’t suspect me. The town had done one good deed: by acting like the lunatics they were, Mac could easily believe one of them had dragged his brother off into the woods.
I might get away with this in the end.
“He says God gave him magic so he could protect us from the outside world.” I leaned my head back against Mac’s shoulder. “The forest, the Feast, the fire in his hand—it’s all for us...”
Mac made a small noise like he didn’t buy that answer for a minute. Neither did I. Not anymore, at least. When I was younger, I believed. I’d put all my trust in the Reverend, in the church, in this town.
Now I knew better.
Not that I could trace the origins of the Reverend. He just was, and always had been, as far as anyone ever said.
We didn’t really talk about the possibilities.
“I don’t know anything else about him.”
Mac stroked his thumb up and down mine. “Do you think there’s a way to kill him?”
“I couldn’t even burn down the church,” I murmured.
Mac tightened his arms around me. “Let’s sleep here for the day. There’s nothing much else to do, anyway.”
I wiggled my ass against his crotch. “I disagree.”
He wrapped his legs over mine, trapping my thighs apart. “That’s a better idea.”
He trailed his fingers down the crotch of my pants, and I melted. I still couldn’t believe the strange twists that had brought us together, but I refused to let him go. If that made me the worst person to ever exist, so be it.
He unfastened my jeans, and I tugged them down along with my panties. The cold air swirled over my bare skin, but our body heat filled the tent as he stroked my wet folds, my legs pinned under his. I arched against his chest, closing my eyes. He worked faster until the sensation overwhelmed me. I bit down on the urge to cry out.
The moment hadn’t even passed before he had undone his pants, freeing his hard cock, and guided me to straddle his lap. As I sank down on him, he inched down to lay on his back. I rode him, gazes locked, slower at first then faster.
Everything about this moment between us was normal, just any couple in any place in the world, doing the most natural thing. Except a skeleton hand rested in the bag two feet away, his brother was held hostage in a cave a mile away, and a church with a strange Reverend stood on the hill that overlooked the town.
When we finished, I lay against Mac’s side, both of us tucked under the blankets. Mac used his other arm as a pillow as he stared up at the low tent ceiling.
“I’m going into town this evening,” he said.
I pushed up onto my elbow to look into his face. “You cannot take on the Reverend, Mac.”
“I know.” He pressed my head back to his chest. “I’m not going to take on the Reverend. I’m not ready to confront him.”
“Then why are you leaving me?”
I hadn’t meant to phrase the question like that, but the idea of him being away sent panic through my chest. Not like he could protect me, but I didn’t want us to be apart anymore. Not while we were stuck in Thorn Tree.
He was the one nice thing. I couldn’t let that out of my grasp.
“I need to learn more about what is happening here,” he said.
“To find your brother?” I had to ask. That was the entire reason he had come to Thorn Tree in the first place. It would seem strange if I didn’t at least acknowledge he still needed to find Bobby.
Mac shifted to his side, facing me, and pushed back my hair from my face. “I can’t leave my brother behind, but right now, even if I did find him, I wouldn’t be able to get him out of here. I need to find us a way out.”
“My spell,” I whispered. “Less than two weeks.”
“I know, Gracie.” He kissed my hairline. “But I have to do some digging too. I need to understand this town.”
I clutched his arm. “Please, don’t go.”
I had never begged a man to stay with me in my life. Just the opposite, if anything. I wasn’t particularly proud of my reaction now, but it was better than the alternative: him leaving me in this tent, alone, and wandering off into town to do goddess-knew-what.
He could get hurt, and that might be the least of it.
“We had a deal,” he said softly, stroking my arm. “This is one of the things I need you to agree to, even if you don’t want to.”
It wasn’t like I could stop him. He would leave with or without my consent.
“It’s dangerous in town,” I said, shuffling closer to him.
“It is,” he said. “That’s why I need to go.”
I didn’t respond, didn’t even look at him.
He sighed, pulling me to him as he laid back down. “Let’s just sleep for now.”
I nodded against his chest, but I couldn’t keep my eyes closed. My mind reeled faster the longer he slept, his soft breaths against the top of my head. Why did he have to leave tonight? What was he going to look for in town?
Worse, what would he find?
3
MAC
After sundown, Gracie drove me to the edge of town, her house between us and where we’d left our camp in the woods. She didn’t say a word, didn’t even glance my way. As much as she didn’t want me to go, I couldn’t give in on this one. I’d warned her that I was going to start making some choices around here, and to her credit, she played ball, just like she’d promised.
No one had said she would have to be happy about it, and she was cashing in on that condition.
When we parked, right on the dirt road, she stared out the windshield and said nothing.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I will be back before you know it.”
She barely acknowledged I existed.
With a sigh, I turned to get out of the jeep.
“This is a really bad idea.”
Her voice startled me.
I twisted to look at her, holding the door open. “I have no doubt it is. I just need to do this one thing. For me.”
She nodded, still fixated out the windshield. I considered saying more, but it would have only filled the air.
As soon as I stepped out and closed the door, she reversed, then u-turned, kicking up dirt. The jeep sped off and disappeared out of sight.
I checked the gun holstered on my hip, then draped the hem of my shirt back over it before setting off down the main street.
When I’d first submitted my request to enter Thorn Tree to find my brother, Sheriff Ditka had reached out to me to discuss the situation. When the Reverend agreed, the sheriff had told me where to find his house when I arrived. I’d gone straight to Roberta’s home and had yet to stop in at the sheriff’s house.
That would change tonight.
Sheriff’s Ditka Victorian style house was twice the size of Honey and Hive, and it occurred to me as I stood on his front porch that most of the town consisted of modest little homes in pleasant Easter colors, except for the few sprawling estates scattered around. Now that I understood more of the dynamics of Thorn Tree, I could safely bet that the Victorian homes belonged to those who directly served the Reverend.
Grace’s little house, nearly falling apart, confirmed the hierarchy of this town.
I knocked on the door, even though it was long past visiting hours in Thorn Tree. Somehow, I doubted the sheriff was in bed.
Did he even sleep? Evil didn’t, according to some.
The door slid open without a sound, and a small woman stood behind it. She was so pale, she nearly glowed like a ghost against the dark backdrop of the rest of the house. Her graying hair was pulled tight against her head. Her eyes glinted with fear, then she subdued the emotion.
“Officer Brewer, how can I help you?”
“I’m here to speak with the sheriff,” I said, then tacked on, “ma’am,” before I forgot my manners. There would be time to throw those out the window in the near future.
Her smile wobbled. “My husband is just in the lounge room. I’m sure he’ll be happy to speak with you.”
She gestured me in, and it occurred to me all the lights were off in the house. The only illumination came from the windows with the curtains pulled back.
Like a specter, Mrs. Ditka led me through the darkened rooms, around the silhouettes of heavy furniture.
This was the woman with whom Roberta was in competition—if one could call it a competition. It seemed Roberta had exactly what she wanted.
Ambient light from the lounge room cast across the carpet of the hallway as Mrs. Ditka halted by the open doorway. She smiled at me but made no motion to notify her husband, who sat in a leather recliner, legs out, smoking a cigar.
“Thank you,” I said to her as gently as I could muster, then hardened my resolve and stepped into the doorway.
Sheriff Dikta looked up, puffing out smoke, then kicked the recliner upright. “Well, Malachi, about time you came by to see me. Come on in. Have a seat.”
He gestured to the recliner opposite of him.
I crossed my arms, remaining in the doorway. “I have some questions.”
“I’m sure you do.” He took another puff, not the least bit concerned about this weird little world around him.
“I was talking to Gracie.”
Sheriff Ditka leaned forward to tap the cigar into an ashtray on a round wooden table. “I knew this conversation was coming, just didn’t expect it so soon. She really has those talons in you.”
They wanted the opposite: my hold on Gracie needed to be stronger. I had to woo her back to the church, after all.
“Where were you?” I asked with an edge.
Sheriff Ditka took a calm puff on his cigar, eying me up and down. Outside, the storm kicked up and beat against the windowpanes that rattled around the room. Wind howled across the chimney of the dead fireplace.
“Gracie defied the Reverend,” he said, knowing exactly what I was referring to. “It was out of my hands.”
“So you let the town lose its collective mind like that? Let them…let them hurt her, like that?”
He shrugged.
Rage shot through me, boiling red in my sight. It took every ounce of waning control not to slam him into a wall.
“A little vigilante justice can go a long way.” He snuffed the cigar and rose to his feet. “Whiskey?”
I took a step towards him, pulling to my full height.
“You are supposed to protect this town, protect its people—people like Gracie,” I said, ignoring his ridiculous question.
He turned his back to me as he poured shots at the wet bar besides one of the rattling windows. He faced me with two shots in hand and offered me one.
I swatted it from his grasp. The shot glass hit the carpet, bounced a little, then tipped. The carpet drank up the whiskey.
The sheriff threw back his drink then placed the glass on the counter behind him. “It wasn’t my place to intervene.”
I grabbed the front of his button-down shirt and yanked him towards me. Our faces were so close, they nearly touched.
“You’re a fuckin’ coward, that’s why.”
Unphased, the sheriff rolled his gaze down to where my hands were inches from choking the pathetic life out of him.
“I would remove that hand from my shirt before I remove it from your body.”
Did he know what we’d done to Miss Gladys?
I gave him a dark glare but slowly released my hold. I still had questions I wanted answered, though I had to wonder what I thought I would get out of this meeting.
Sheriff Ditka wasn’t just one of them. He was instrumental in holding this town together and keeping it submitted to the Reverend.
Of course he hadn’t helped Gracie.
“It’s all about control,” I said, leading him to divulge something—anything—that I could use in getting us the hell out of here.
The sheriff adjusted his shirt, then poured himself another shot. “Don’t act like it’s not about control out there where you live, Malachi. It’s always about control—control of natural resources, control of money, control of power. At least here, we don’t pretend that control doesn’t exist. At least here, the control serves a greater purpose.”
Anger burned my skin until sweat beaded across my back despite the chill in the air. Outside the window, rain pelted down in a sudden onslaught.
“You could have helped Gracie. What about law and order?”
He swirled the glass in front of him as he leaned against the bar, facing me. “Law and order means something entirely different in Thorn Tree.”
The wind outside howled louder and thumped against the walls. The lights in the lounge room flickered.
“Storm’s a-coming.” The sheriff shot back his drink.
His nonchalance dampened the fire burning in me until I shuddered with the cold of the icy creature in front of me. Reality settled over me, another twist on the one I’d only just started to accept.
“You never even looked for my brother, did you?”
The betrayal stung. I didn’t have any relationship with Ditka before my brother came up missing, but he was Thorn Tree’s law enforcement.
I had assumed he’d at least tried.
“He was dead on arrival.”
The world swayed.
He could be lying. They lie. This is all a lie.
Somehow, as much as I wanted to believe the sheriff was blowing me off, I had already concluded, in the back of my mind, that my brother’s fate had been determined the moment he’d stepped foot back in Thorn Tree. Everything I had learned in my time here confirmed that.
Robert had no friends, just scorned would-be lovers. His mother was as predatory as the best in this town, working a game that few understood the rules well enough to play. And, not only had he received special permission to leave the town—something unheard of outside the Bruno family—but he had been given the even more unusual honor of returning. There were any number of people with motivation enough to end my brother.
Without meaning to, his mother had sentenced him to death.
“You know this is all shit, don’t you?” I asked, as if needing the confirmation for what I already knew. “Thorn Tree is fake. It pretends to be a quaint little town. It pretends to adhere to customs and ideas and a way of life worth preserving. It’s just a façade though.”
The sheriff sauntered towards me, grin in place. “The question is, what’s behind that façade?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. It was a good question, and one I could not answer. The pieces were all there and yet, I couldn’t fit them together. Not yet.
But I would.
Without a word, I turned on my heel and stormed from the house, letting myself out the front. Mrs. Ditka was nowhere in sight.
As I crossed the dark front lawn, wind slammed into me from the side, frosty and wicked like the rest of this town. It bit at my face, and I ducked my head as I aimed for the main road.
My soles crunched on ice, then snow. Around me, rain turned to snowflakes that dusted along the top of my shoes and covered my footprints as soon as I made them.
The few lights along the streets streaked then faded in and out as visibility dropped. My lungs ached with the freezing cold, and I held each breath a moment for some relief.
I turned in a slow circle, trying to orientate myself, but everything was a gray blur that closed in on me.
The storm had hit, and I wasn’t going to make it back to Gracie.
I took a few more steps, then faltered. I had no idea where I was headed, or where I should be going. I needed shelter from the storm, but I couldn’t even find my way back to Ditka’s house if I wanted to.
