Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland 2)

“I know, Dad. I feel him.”

I didn’t.

Not since the day he’d left me.

I felt nothing but pain.

I’d stayed awake night after night, willing him to come to me or speak to me in some way, but it never happened. My other half was gone, and I was all alone.

I stood back and watched my dad take a handful of soil and drop it carefully down, and then it was my mum’s turn. She grabbed the soil, but when it came time to let go, she couldn’t do it. She broke down right there at the graveside, sobbing as my dad caught her and pulled her into him. In that moment, watching my parents huddled together on the ground in their combined grief, my own misery was replaced with fury, and I turned to look at the traitors standing at the foot of the church drive. They were huddled together and no doubt picking over the pieces of my brother’s death like the vultures they were.

Why should they get away with it?

They were as guilty as he was. They had blood on their hands and they needed to know.

Staying focused, I stomped over the uneven dewy grass of the churchyard. Finn Knowles looked up, and when he saw me charging towards them, he said something that made them all stop and turn to watch.

“We’re so sorry about Brodie,” Finn blurted out once I was in front of them. “If there’s anything we can do-” He sounded contrite, but I knew it was bullshit. His eyes were sincere, but his actions were useless. As pointless as his words.

“If you wanted to help you wouldn’t have come here today.” I was shaking but trying not to show it, so I folded my arms over my chest to stop them from seeing me tremble. How could they stand there knowing what they’d done? “Are you spying? For him? I know you know where he is.”

Ryan stepped forward and went to touch my arm, but I pulled away. I didn’t want anything to do with them. The bloody Renaissance men, as they liked to call themselves. What a joke. More like Satan’s spawn. The devil’s lackeys. Evil really didn’t give a fuck and neither did they.

“If we knew where he was, we’d tell you,” Finn said, then turned to look at the others, probably willing them to back him up.

“I don’t believe you.” I stood firm. I would never believe a word that came out of their mouths. Not where Brodie was concerned, and certainly not when they were trying so hard to hide the truth about Brandon fucking Mathers. “You’d do anything to save one of your own.”

“No, we wouldn’t. Not with this. What happened was… awful.”

I scoffed and shook my head at Zak Atwood’s woefully inappropriate description of my brother’s murder.

“Awful? You want to know what’s awful? The fact that you came here today thinking you deserved a place in that church. Neither of you deserve to be here. You’ve got blood on your hands and you know it. You might not have been there that night, when Brodie died, but you had a hand in it. You could’ve stopped him at any time, and you can stop him now. Don’t act like you’re all innocent.” I looked each one of them in the eye, but apart from Emily, they couldn’t look back. “If you really want to help, tell the police where he is, or better yet, tell me. I’d rather see my own form of justice served, anyway.”

Emily stepped forward, rubbing Ryan on the arm as she did, as if he were the one who needed consoling.

“Harper, I don’t know you that well, but I know what it’s like to lose a brother. I think I understand a bit about what you’re feeling right now.”

Was she delusional?

Who the hell did she think she was?

“You don’t know shit, little girl. Your brother died in a car accident. He wasn’t knocked out right in front of you and bled out in your lap. I still have the clothes I wore that night, you know. Soaked in my brother’s blood. It’s a harsh reminder of what happened and keeps me focused on what I want. Revenge. You know nothing, so keep your fucking nose out of my business,” I sneered at her, but she didn’t flinch, just gave me a fake-ass smile and nodded to herself knowingly.

“That anger will need channelling somewhere. And when you need to talk and let it all out, just know you have me in your corner.”

She needed to wake up and smell the bullshit.

“Oh, fuck off. I don’t need your sanctimonious crap. Go and sort your own life out before sticking your nose into mine. I hear daddy has his trial soon. Might want to save some of that fake humility for the cameras when you do your press conference. You know, to save your family name and make yourself look good.”

Like everyone else in this town, I’d heard about the money laundering her dad was involved in. Not the best advertisement for his political campaign. Her innocent act was lost on me.

Ryan put his arm around Emily and glared angrily my way.

“That’s enough.”

“Enough?” I laughed sarcastically. “It’ll be enough when he is in a grave in this churchyard. Until then, nothing will ever be enough. So, do me a favour and go. Leave. All of you. You’re not helping me or my family, gloating over the scraps your friend left behind.”

I went to walk away but had to get one last shot in before I left.