Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland 2)

I prayed it’d be Jensen or Chase that opened up. I didn’t mind their mum, Karen, either. She’d always been nice to me whenever I’d seen her. But I didn’t like Don. I felt on edge whenever he was around. Like he’d stab you in the back then shake your hand and ask you to thank him for the privilege. You couldn’t even call him a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He didn’t hide his disdain for other people and the world around him. He wore his wolf status with pride.

He’d also been the first to back away from Emily’s dad, Alec Winters, our local M.P., when all the shit came out about his dodgy dealings and what’d happened with his son. We didn’t know the Winters family all that well, but they knew the Lockwoods, and before Mr Winters had been arrested and charged with fraud and manslaughter, they’d been so far up each other’s asses you didn’t know where Don Lockwood started and Alec Winters ended. I guess the saying was right; fake friends are like shadows, always there on your brightest days, but nowhere to be seen in your darkest hours. Not that I condoned what Winters did. But it didn’t take a genius to guess that Don Lockwood probably knew a lot of what was going on, and he’d been happy enough to turn a blind eye for all those years. Corruption breeds corruption, after all.

I lifted my hand up to knock again, then let out a grateful sigh when Jensen opened the door. He didn’t look pleased to see me, but he soon painted on a fake smile to hide it.

“Harper, hey. How you doing?” He didn’t stand back to let me in. His greeting wasn’t that welcoming.

“What the hell is going on, Jensen? Why did you retract your statement?”

He glanced behind him, making sure no one else in his house had heard me rant, then he stepped onto the porch area and closed the door behind him. He tried to put his hand on my elbow and escort me down the steps to leave, but I shrugged him off and stood my ground.

“I want to know. What. The fuck. Is going on?”

He blew out a slow breath and leant against one of the sandstone pillars, crossing his arms over his chest and looking anywhere but at me. People were making a habit of that. Acting like I wasn’t there or talking to me like I was an inconvenience. I was sure if there was a block Harper app he could download, he’d have done it.

“It’s complicated, Harper. We had to think about what was best for us, for the family.” My eyes bugged out of my head as he said that. I huffed and his voice went lower. “I’ve gotta think about my career, my future. Dad didn’t want a court-case dragging the family name through the mud.”

He was un-fucking-believable.

“So, it’s okay to stab your best friend in the back. Your dead best friend. You know, the one who was murdered in front of you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it does,” he hissed, and then gave another nervous glance at the door as if he expected to find his dad standing there glaring back at him. “But this goes higher than just us. It’s a Pandora’s box we don’t wanna open. We can’t. You need to drop it.”

“Drop it? This is Brodie we’re talking about. The guy who saved your ass on more than one occasion. You’d be in court yourself if he hadn’t covered for you when you first started fighting. Remember that?” I sure did, and I was more than happy to hold that little nugget over his head.

“I’ll never fucking forget it. But you need to. I mean it, Harper. Give it up.”

“And what about Chase? Is he following your lead like a fucking sheep too?” His eyes took on a more lethal, venomous edge when I mentioned his brother. At least we agreed on one thing; we’d protect our sibling no matter what.

“We both saw the same thing,” he said through gritted teeth. “Brodie tripped and fell. It’s the same story everyone’s given. The videos back it up too.” He shrugged like he hadn’t just driven a massive knife through my chest with his words.

“Mobile phones don’t show shit. You were there. You know he hit him. He knocked him backwards and Brodie died.”

“Look, I know you want Mathers to pay. We all do. And he will. But we’ll do it our way. No police. No courts. Our way.”

It was always a control thing with Jensen. He liked to think he controlled Brodie, and now he was trying to do the same with me. But I wasn’t going to be dictated to by anyone.

“I don’t think I like your way of doing things. Forgive me, but why should I trust you?” I cocked my head to the side, giving him my most penetrating stare so he’d know that I meant business. “It didn’t take you long to stab my brother in the back. If Brodie were here now, he’d kick your ass.”

“Yeah, he probably would. Wouldn’t change anything though. As far as the police are concerned, we saw nothing.” He bent down and said the last part right into my face like it was a fucking threat, spraying me with a mist of spit as he did. He made me sick. I leant away, sneering at him in disgust.

“I hope that bus you threw us under swerves right back around and hits your ass. I will get revenge, but not because you’ve decided when and where it happens. I don’t do things on your terms.” He laughed at me, but it only spurred me on further. “Watch your back, Jensen. I hope you sleep well at night knowing what a low-life, back-stabbing cunt you are.”

“Oh, I sleep just fine, sweetheart. And I’d be careful who you’re firing your threats to. I don’t take kindly to intimidation.”

“Unless it’s your father, then you get intimidated real fast.”

He grabbed m

y arm then and dragged me down the steps and along his driveway. I followed, but only because he was stronger than me, so I had no choice.

“You need to leave. Don’t come here again. I mean it.” His jaw was clenched, but seeing the hurt and anger in my eyes, he softened a little. “If you need anything, anything at all, we’ll help you. But you need to stay away. Don’t ask questions. Trust me. You won’t like the fucking answers.”

I was done. I couldn’t stand another minute of listening to his bullshit excuses. I’d never trusted Jensen, but Brodie did, and I’d assumed he’d always have his back. How wrong was I? When push came to shove, we could only rely on ourselves to get the job done… Or our twin, if we were lucky enough to have one.

I got into my car and drove away, so focused on my rage that I didn’t have the first clue where I was going, not until I pulled onto the forecourt of Hardy and Son’s garage. I wanted answers, and I knew they were hiding something, or rather someone.

I parked and got out of my car. There was a guy I didn’t recognise working under a bonnet, but I couldn’t see anyone else outside. He gave me a backwards glance and then carried on with his job. Probably expected me to go straight into the office. What he didn’t expect was for me to march into his workshop and grab the nearest tool I could find. I didn’t expect it either, but it was happening.