6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Ronan

V incent carries her carefully through the fucked up home/warehouse. Wesley jogs in front, opening the front door for him as he blows past without a single look. Liam is limping beside me, Asher on his left as his eyes move through the place, disgust written all over his face.

Wesley hits the key to his car, unlocking it before holding the back seat door open for Vincent. Asher pushes ahead, rounding the car and opening the other side before he slides in.

“Rest her head on my lap, keep her straight,” Asher says.

Vincent nods as he climbs inside the SUV with Skyla in his arms, gently resting her head onto his lap before laying her the rest of the way down. He slips out of the car at the same time Liam climbs inside, carefully lifting her legs to rest on his lap as he takes his seat.

I look down at my beautiful, broken girl, anger, pain, and sadness thrumming in my veins. Part of me wishes Liam hadn’t killed the son of a bitch. I think I speak for everyone here when I say I wish we could have made him suffer. For days, weeks, months. Hell, maybe even years. He would have deserved it, and more.

Out of all of us, I’m shocked that Liam was the one to deliver the kill, and so brutally. It looks like there is hope for him; he just needs the right motivation. One look at Skyla’s face, her naked, exposed body, and the pain and fear in her eyes was all it took for him. At least Vincent and Asher got some good hits on him before he died. I hope it was excruciating.

Wesley grabs a blanket from the back of the car, covering Skyla with it. For shock or modesty, but probably both. She wraps herself in it gratefully, her body still shaking like a leaf.

I can’t fucking believe that Nicholas Corwin was Skyla’s stalker…all this time. It still doesn’t make sense to me, to any of us. I would have suspected my own brother or even Henry Parris before the quiet history professor. Looking back, though, I suppose there were a few indicators, no matter how hidden they may have been.

He’s the right age, and if what Lewis said was accurate, then he was no doubt one of the many men in love with Skyla’s mom. He had access to Skyla easily on campus and in class, and as a faculty member, he was privy to things like her schedule, maybe even a key to her room. I’ll definitely be having a chat with the headmaster when we get back. There is no way he was operating under everyone’s radar, and if I find someone who knew, they’ll get the torture that should have been saved for Corwin.

He clearly drugged her. We just haven’t figured out how yet. I wonder if he told Skyla, not like now is the time or place to talk about it.

We’re currently in central Vermont. It was a three hour drive just to get here, and with Corwin having over a four hour jump on us, I was terrified we’d be too late. We all were. Once we figured out who it was, it didn’t answer the question of what he was going to do with her. I’d hoped his plan wasn’t just to kill her; he seemed too infatuated. Then again, according to his later letters, he was infuriated with her as well.

Skyla’s eyes meet mine, and a barely there smile touches her mouth as she looks at me. I do my best to return it, but I know it doesn’t show.

She said he touched her. Confirmed it. I want nothing more than to know every single detail she can recount to us, but at the same time, I never want to hear or think about it, ever.

Vincent steps away from his bike, moving to the trunk of Wesley’s SUV before he pops it. He grabs the two five-gallon jugs of gas that he threw in there before we left the house. No one questioned him in the moment, and I sure as shit don’t now.

He walks towards the building, moving inside as he begins dousing the floor with gas. I share a look with Wesley, or at least I try to. His eyes are solely focused on Skyla, like a kicked puppy watching her with a forlorn look. He blames himself, and honestly, so do I. So does Vincent. Fuck, he almost killed him back at the house, and based on the lack of help Asher and Liam were providing, I’d wager they wouldn’t have been heartbroken if Vincent had succeeded. Wesley was tasked with watching her and keeping her safe, but he failed. Liam is semi-excusable. He can hardly walk at a reasonable pace. Wesley was the one physically and mentally able, and he fucking failed.

In the next moment, Vincent appears through the doorway, emptying the second jug of gas at the front step before tossing both cans inside. Then, with one flick of a match, he drops it. A trail of fire rips through the front of the building, growing larger and larger as Vincent jogs away.

Wesley runs to the driver’s seat, and I slam the back door shut before jumping into the passenger seat. The car peels out as Wesley drives us onto the road, Vincent right behind on his bike. Three seconds later, an explosive boom comes from behind us, and I look in the car mirror to see a plume of smoke rising into the sky.

The cops will be here soon, as well as the fire department. This is a lot messier than the Brethren usually handle matters. In theory, Vincent probably could have cleaned up the place and made Corwin’s body disappear, no problem. Clearly, he didn’t have the patience for all that, and Skyla’s injuries are priority.

“We need a doctor at my house; we will be there in less than three hours. Possible broken ribs…bring anything necessary to treat a victim of assault,” Asher says quietly before hanging up the phone.

The car goes deathly silent, all eyes coming to Skyla. She looks up at Asher as if she wants to speak, but she doesn’t. She stays silent, staring up at him in a way that unnerves me.

After a few seconds, she blinks before turning her head to the side, staring at the back of the seat blankly. I share a concerned look with Wesley and see Liam and Asher doing the same in the rearview mirror.

Pulling out my own phone, I tap out a message that I wish I didn’t have to, but know I have no choice.

Me: There is an incident in Vermont. Nicholas Corwin has been stalking and threatening your daughter in law. He kidnapped her from their home and took her to a warehouse where he assaulted her. Your son blew the fucking place up.

I tell him that Asher is the one to blow the place up for obvious reasons. If Christopher finds out Vincent is the one that did it, he’ll ask questions. Like why Asher has been spending so much time with a guy he’s hated since birth. Why Griggs is committing careless acts of violence in the name of his son’s wife. The best thing to do is to play it off like it was a hot headed moment of rage on Asher’s part.

My brother’s response comes surprisingly quick.

Christopher: Corwin? What reasoning did he have? This girl is proving to be more trouble than she’s worth.

I bite my tongue at that last part as I type out my reply.

Me: He was in love with Giselle, clearly. Trying to re-create what he thought he could have had with her? I’m not sure.

Christopher: That worm wasn’t even fit enough to breathe the same air as Giselle, let alone love her.

I’m surprised by the defensive nature of his text and go to respond when another comes in.

Christopher: Get back to Salem. I’ll handle things in Vermont.

Me: On our way.