He yanks me onto his lap, and I attempt to move, but he doesn’t allow me to.
“Stay right here,” he growls into my ear. “I haven’t forgiven you yet for this half-baked plan.”
Jane cocks an eyebrow but doesn’t speak as she settles onto the chair across from us, Luna remains standing, crossing her arms over her chest. Grayson stands opposite her, nearly replicating her pose. He offers me a reassuring smile.
Darius enters the room and casts a glance around before settling next to Axel, his hand landing on my bare thigh.
Once we are all situated, Luna is the first to speak. “Well as my mom was just saying, they haven’t found Maxwell yet,butthey assume he is amongst the dead.”
Darius tenses next to me but remains silent, his rough fingers digging into my skin just a bit.
“How can we be sure?” It is Grayson who snaps this time. “Why hasn’t it been confirmed with the public if he was among the dead?”
Jane heaves a sigh. “This is an ongoing investigation. The names of the deceased will be released as soon as we are capable. But I am being kept mostly in the dark due to my affiliation.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“The Thornes got caught,” Jane explains. “Finally. And not only them, there have been dozens implicated already and it’s only been a day. We are working through the evidence, but they kept video of most of the crimes committed. And it won’t be long before more witnesses and victims come forward. The Thornes fabricated blackmail against most of this town, used it as a way to buy their silence, to continue on their nefarious ways, but now that Sterling is behind bars? Federal bars? The threats that kept their silence hold no merit. We did it. You all did it.”
“How did the FBI come so quickly? What made them buy that you were dead?” My curiosity is stamping out my unease.
“Veronica,” Grayson says.
Darius’s fingers dig further into my thigh, nearly on the cusp of pain. I place one of my hands over his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. I’m sure this isn’t easy for him to hear either.
Jane quirks her lips. “The girl, Veronica, she called in the anonymous tip along with a video that appeared to show me shot down in front of theThorne’s estate. All a ruse that Axel and Grayson here played out perfectly. When the backup arrived and they couldn’t find my body, but located my bloodied car, it caused them to search further. When Axel and Grayson advised you were safe, I revealed myself. Played off the video as one of his men attempting to gun me down. No one was any the wiser, and we finally broke through the walls of their corruption.”
A light, hopeful energy finds its way into my heart. Maxwell is dead. Mark is dead. Sterling is behind bars. “And the victims? Those that were trapped for so long? Did they all make it out? Are they okay?”
“They were transported to various hospitals,” Jane explains.
“They’re not okay, Sunday,” Luna snaps.
I flinch back, further into Axel’s chest.
“But that’s not your fucking fault. And they’re going to heal. Just like I’m going to. Even if it did take you long enough to get me out of there.” Her lips twitch, but her tone remains scolding.
Jane’s eyes turn glassy, she reaches out grabbing her daughter’s hand. Their two tattoos are on display.
Yin and yang.
Balance.
“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner, sweetheart.” Jane’s voice cracks in the middle.
“I told you to cut it out, Mom. I’m going to go to therapy to emotionally dump all of this on them. You should go too.”
“What now?” Axel gripes. “Do we just return to life as if none of this happened? Is the FBI going to leave us the fuck alone? What about Darius?”
Jane whips her attention back to us. “Darius and Sunday have been painted as victims in this.” Her features soften, and suddenly, she appearsmuch older. “They kept videos of all the, uh, victims. We started with the newest first.”
Dread and anxiety fold in my stomach. Darius’s nails break the skin on my thigh, but I can barely feel it.
“What are you talking about?” Axel bites out through clenched teeth.
“I’m sorry, Sunday. I didn’t know that you hadn’t told them yet.” Jane sounds apologetic, but the damage is done.
Grayson turns to face me, appraises me. “Sunday.” My name is a warning.
