He knew the quickest route and navigated the turns easily; leaving the business district, the truck roared past quiet oceanfront homes. The pier was next, and then Ronnie's house; he didn't so much as slow down. Instead, he pushed the truck to the limits of safety.
Next to him, Ronnie was holding on to the handgrip as he made the final turn into a gravel parking lot almost hidden by the trees. The truck skidded to a halt on the gravel as Ronnie finally found the nerve to speak.
"Please don't do this."
Will heard her and knew what she wanted, but he hopped out of the truck anyway. Bower's Point wasn't far. Accessed only by the beach, it lay just around the corner, a couple of hundred meters past the lifeguard stand.
Will broke into a jog. He knew Marcus would be here; he felt it. He began to run flat out, images flashing through his mind: the fire at the church, the night at the carnival, the way he'd grabbed Ronnie by the arms... and Blaze, going up in flames.
Marcus hadn't tried to help her. He'd run away when she needed him, when she could have died.
Will didn't care what might happen to him. He didn't care what might happen to Scott. He was beyond that now. This time, Marcus had gone too far. As he rounded the corner, he spotted them in the distance, seated on pieces of driftwood around a small campfire.
Fire. Fireballs. Blaze...
He sped up, steeling himself for what was coming next. He drew close enough to make out the empty beer bottles scattered around the fire, but he knew that the darkness prevented them from seeing him.
Marcus was raising a bottle of beer to his lips as Will lowered his shoulder and slammed into him from the back, just below his neck. He felt Marcus's back whiplash under the impact, the only sound a painful gasp as Will drove him forward into the sand.
Will knew he had to move quickly, in order to reach Teddy before he or his brother could react. The sight of Marcus suddenly being driven to the ground seemed to paralyze them, though, and after Will drove a knee into Marcus's back, he lunged toward Teddy, his legs moving like pistons, driving him back over the driftwood. Will landed on top of Teddy, but instead of using his fists, he reared back and slammed his forehead down onto Teddy's nose.
He felt it crunch as it was flattened under the impact. Will rose quickly, ignoring the sight of Teddy rolling on the ground, hands to his face and blood spurting between his fingers, his screams partially muffled by the sound of him gagging.
Lance was already on the move and charging as Will took one large step back, keeping his distance. Lance was almost on him and going low when Will suddenly drove his knee upward, feeling as it connected with Lance's face. Lance's head whipped back and he was unconscious before he hit the ground.
Two down, one to go.
By then, Marcus was staggering to his feet. He grabbed a piece of driftwood and backed away as Will moved forward. But the last thing Will wanted was for Marcus to be able to position his feet before swinging. Will charged. Marcus swung the wood, but the strike was weak and Will batted it aside before smashing into Marcus's chest. He wrapped his arms around him, locking them and lifting, using the momentum to drive Marcus back. It was a picture-perfect football tackle, and Marcus was slammed onto his back.
Will brought his full weight down on top of Marcus, and as he'd done with Teddy, he head-butted Marcus as hard as he could.
He felt the same crunching of bone, but this time he didn't stop there. Instead, he smashed Marcus with his fist. He hit him again and again, giving in to the rage, unleashing his fury at the impotence he'd felt ever since the fire. He hit Marcus in the ear, then hit his ear again. Marcus's screams only enraged him further. He swung again, this time aiming for the nose he'd already broken--when suddenly he felt someone seize his arm.
He turned, ready for Teddy, but it was Ronnie holding his arm, a terrified expression on her face.
"Stop! He's not worth going to jail for!" she screamed. "Don't ruin your life for him!"
He barely heard her, but he registered her tugging as she began trying to pull him off.
"Please, Will," she said, her voice shaking. "You're not like him. You have a future. Don't throw it all away."
As she gradually loosened her grip, he felt his energy drain away. He struggled to stand, the adrenaline leaving him shaky and off balance. Ronnie slipped an arm around his waist, and they slowly began walking back to the truck.
The next morning, he went to work with his hand aching, only to find Scott waiting for him in the small locker room. As Scott pulled up his coverall, he glared at Will before shrugging the one-piece over his shoulders.
"You didn't have to quit the match," he said, pulling up the zipper. "The paramedics were there the whole time."
"I know," Will said. "I wasn't thinking. I'd seen them earlier, but I forgot. I'm sorry about having to forfeit the match."
"Yeah, well, so am I," Scott snapped. He reached for a rag and tucked it into his belt. "We could have won it all, but you had to rush off to play hero."
"Scott, man, she needed help--"
"Yeah? And why did it have to be you? Why couldn't you wait for help? Why didn't you call 911? Why did you have to haul her off in your truck?"
"I told you--I forgot the paramedics were there. I thought it would take too long for an ambulance to arrive..."
Scott slammed his fist against the locker. "But you don't even like her!" he shouted. "You don't even know her anymore! Yeah, if it was Ashley or Cassie or even Ronnie, I could understand it. Hell, if it was a stranger, I could understand it. But Blaze? Blaze? The same chick who's gonna send your girlfriend to jail? The chick that hangs out with Marcus?" Scott took a step toward him. "Do you think for a second she would have done the same for you? If you were hurt and you needed help? Not a chance!"
"It's just a game," Will objected, feeling his own anger begin to surface.
"To you!" Scott screamed. "To you it's a game! But for you, everything's a game! Don't you get that? Because nothing matters to you! You don't need to win things like this, because even if you lose, you still get life handed to you on a silver platter! But I needed this! It's my future on the line, man!"
"Yeah, well, it was a girl's life on the line," Will lashed back. "And if you could stop being so self-centered for once, you'd see that saving someone's life is more important than your precious volleyball scholarship!"
Scott shook his head in disgust. "You've been my friend for a long time... but you know, it's always been on your terms. Everything has always been what you want. You want to break up with Ashley, you want to hang out with Ronnie, you want to blow off practice for weeks on end, you want to play hero. Well, you know what? You were wrong. I talked to the paramedics. They told me you were wrong. That by hauling her to the truck the way you did, you might have made things worse. And what did you get? Did she thank you? No, of course she didn't. And she won't. But you're perfectly willing to screw a friend over because what you want to do is most important."
Scott's words were like blows to his stomach, but they only stoked his anger. "Get over yourself, Scott," Will said. "This time, it's not all about you."
"You owed me!" Scott screamed, slamming the locker again. "I asked for this one simple thing! You know how much it meant to me!"
"I don't owe you anything," Will said with quiet fury. "I've been covering for you for the past eight months. I'm tired of Marcus playing us. You need to do the right thing. You need to tell the truth. Things have changed."
Will turned and strode to the door. As he pushed it open, he heard Scott behind him.
"What did you do?"
Will turned, holding the door half-open and meeting Scott's gaze with steely intent. "Like I said, you need to tell the truth."
He waited until Scott absorbed his words, then stepped out, letting
the door slam shut behind him. As he made his way past the cars on lifts, he could hear Scott calling after him.
"You want to ruin my life? You want me to go to jail for an accident? I'm not going to do that!"
Even as he neared the lobby, he could still hear Scott slamming his hand into the lockers.
29
Ronnie
The next week was tense for both of them. Ronnie wasn't comfortable with the violence she'd seen Will display, nor was she entirely comfortable with the way it had made her feel. She didn't like fights, she didn't like to see people get hurt, and she knew that it rarely improved a situation. Yet she couldn't force herself to be angry at Will for what he'd done. As much as she didn't want to condone what happened, watching Will completely dismantle the three of them made her feel just a bit safer when she was with him.
But Will was stressed. He was certain that Marcus would report what happened and that the police would come knocking at his door any minute, but Ronnie sensed that something else was bothering him, something he wasn't letting on. For some reason he and Scott weren't on speaking terms, and she wondered whether that had something to do with Will's unease.
Then, of course, there was the family. Particularly Will's mother. Ronnie had seen her twice since the wedding: once as she waited in the truck at Will's house while Will ran inside to pick up a clean shirt, and once at a restaurant in downtown Wilmington when Will took her out. As they'd taken their seats, Susan had walked in with a group of her friends. Ronnie had a perfect view of the entrance, but Will was facing in the other direction. On both occasions, Susan had pointedly turned her back to Ronnie.
She hadn't told Will about either incident. While Will was lost in his own world of retribution and worry, Ronnie noticed that Susan seemed to believe Ronnie was somehow personally responsible for the tragedy that had befallen Blaze.