Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland 2)

A single white rose lay underneath my windscreen wiper.

He was here.

Anger bubbled and coursed inside me, but it didn’t make me weak. It burned a fire in my soul. My broken, bruised, and battered soul. He thought he could play me. Intimidate and scare me into submission, to do what? Take me further down than I already was?

Too little, too late, mate.

I was dancing with the devil, on first name terms with the guy, and had him in my back pocket. He was playing on my team now. The battle lines had been drawn all those weeks ago in a shitty, rundown barn. Now, he was over-stepping the mark and he needed to be taught a lesson.

I plucked the rose out of its holding place and held it to my nose, smiling like a fool. Anyone watching would think it’d been left by an admirer with the way I was grinning. I opened my car door and threaded the stem into the front dash panel so it sat up proudly on display.

“Thanks for the rose,” I said in a cool, calm voice. “I hope you rot in hell.”

Then I drove off, my rose standing tall for everyone to see. I’d get rid of it when I got home, but I knew he’d be watching, and I wanted him to know he wasn’t getting to me.

Leave all the roses you want. This lady’s stone heart is numb, frozen, and ready to fight back.

I was fired up and couldn’t relax. Driving back home, I decided I needed to offload some of my tension, so I decided to make a detour to the Lockwood’s house. Mum had said I should call in, pay my respects for the loss of their… cars.

Fucking jerks.

As I pulled up to the kerb, I spotted Jensen and Chase on their driveway, arms folded over their chests and looking over two brand spanking new Range Rovers, one black, one white. I supposed these were their new rides and they could take their pick, deciding which one to use every day. Black for their traitorous hearts or white for the fake image they were currently projecting all over Sandland. I’d have thought yellow would’ve been more their style, to match their cowardice.

They both turned at the sound of my car pulling up and Jensen’s jaw tightened as he muttered something to Chase. A warning, I’d bet.

Don’t say anything.

Cover your tracks.

Protect the family name.

“Harper,” Jensen said through gritted teeth as I got out of my car.

He walked towards me, extending his arms like he expected us to hug. After our last meeting, I was going to struggle with a handshake.

“How are you?”

He saw that I wasn’t there to play nice. My shitty expression gave it away, and he went back to folding his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.

“Sorry to hear about your cars.” I nodded over to Chase as I spoke. He gave a strained smile but stayed back.

“We know who did it.” Jensen turned to glance at Chase, who grimaced on cue. “When we find him, he’s a dead man.”

“So, you’ll kill him over a fucking lump of metal, but not for my brother?” These guys were unbelievable.

“It’s not that simple.” Jensen took a step forward then bent down to sneer into my face. “I told you to fucking drop it.”

I grinned back, trying my best to look unhinged and deranged.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I won’t drop it. I won’t ever give up. If getting to Mathers means outing your shady shit then buckle up, boys. You’re in for a bumpy ride.”

The veins in Jensen’s neck looked like they were ready to pop. His jaw was clenched so tightly he’d probably do permanent damage to his teeth.

“I’m not fucking around, Harper.”

“Neither am I.” I took a step into his space this time and made him lean back. Good. I liked having the upper hand in his intimidation tactics. “You were there that night. Your statements hold a lot of weight in Brodie’s case-”

“What case? There is no case.”