Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Wyn

"Ms. Barker?"

I look up from my phone, then stand and walk across the waiting room to the detective who just called my name. He's middle-aged, his black hair just starting to gray around the temples. I recognize him from a of couple months ago. He was the detective who looked into Gabriel's death.

"I'm Detective Nawar," he says.

I shake his outstretched hand and smile politely. "I remember."

"What can I help you with today?" he asks.

I glance around. Are we doing this in the Sheriff's Station waiting room? Weird, but okay. "Um, yeah, you handled my boyfriend's case a couple of months ago. Gabriel Martelle."

He nods, indicating that he remembers.

"And, um, I was wondering if I could see his autopsy report?" I ask, anxious. I don't know why. I guess it's because seeing the report and the photos and everything that goes along with it will be confirmation that it's all real.

But as painful as that might be, I need to know the truth.

He shakes his head. "Those files are part of an active investigation…"

"Please," I say. "I just…need some closure. It'll only take a few minutes." I swallow and glance up at him, and whatever he sees in my eyes softens him, because he blows out a defeated breath.

"Okay," he says. "Follow me."

I'm sure he assumes I'm just a grieving girlfriend who needs closure. During our initial interview after Gabriel's death, I told him the truth, though. We'd just broken up the day it happened, but I'd checked out emotionally months before that. It just wasn't working between us.

And yeah, I'm sad. But honestly, Gabriel was unhinged toward the end. Something was bothering him, but he wouldn't tell me what it was. Eventually, I just gave up asking. I know Lucas blames me for that. Or I suspect he does, anyway. He's never said it to my face.

The detective leads me down the hallway, to the first door on the left. It's a small room, cold, and swathed in various grays. The walls, table, chairs…everything is sterile and plain. "Water?" he asks me.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I answer, taking a seat.

A few minutes later, maybe ten, he steps back into the room with a water bottle and a plain manilla file folder. He sets the water bottle down in front of me and then slaps the folder down on the table. "You have ten minutes. You can't take any of the pages with you, and no taking photos," he says sternly, then points to a camera mounted in the corner of the room. "You're being recorded."

I nod in response. "Okay."

"And just a warning, the crime scene photos are pretty graphic. That train really did a number on him."

I stare down at the folder like it's about to jump up and bite me. "Thanks," I say.

"I'll just leave you to it," he says. "If you need anything, just holler."

I smile tightly. "Okay."

When he leaves, I sit back in the plastic chair, pulling in several long breaths to gather my nerves. Then I reach out and flip the file open. On top is the actual autopsy report itself, thank God. Leaning forward, I read over all the basic facts. Presumed height, weight, hair and eye color, and so on. The "marks and wounds" section is basically a novel. He was ripped to pieces under that train with too many injuries to describe in detail on one sheet of paper.

There's a sketch of a person, front and back, to show the locations of the injuries, and it's a hot mess with scribbles everywhere. I swallow hard when I confront the fact that this was Gabriel. One second he was "fine" and a second later, he was this . An eviscerated mess of flesh scattered across the train tracks.

Behind the report is a witness account of what happened–but I'm only guessing because most of it's redacted. And behind that are the accompanying photos. I suck in a sharp breath, then flip the page. The first photo is of his phone, the screen cracked and dark, lying in the gravel. It's definitely his phone case. I recognize the black and white swirl design.

The second photo is the contents of his wallet. It's untouched like maybe he tossed it aside before stepping in front of the train. It was found a few feet from Gabriel's body and inside was his driver's license, credit cards…and a note with just five words, written in his chicken scratch?—

Do you see me now?

I blink rapidly to stave off the tears that sting the backs of my eyes. I remember first seeing that note after everything had happened. The police asked me about it. Fuck, everyone asked me about it, and I told them I had no idea what it meant. But that was a lie—a lie that most people accepted. But not Lucas. He knows there's shit I'm not telling him.

Swallowing back the emotion, I consider whether or not I need to see the rest of the file. There are several more photos, probably of Gabriel's body, but do I really need to see them? Will I regret it if I don't look? Will I always wonder?

Sucking in another deep breath, I flip the page quickly, and I instantly regret it. It's a jumble of bloody flesh that hardly even looks human, and I quickly glance away, shutting the manila folder.

"Oh, fuck," I breathe, standing up. I suddenly feel queasy, and I start pulling in deep breaths to keep from throwing up. If that was Gabriel, then there was no possible way to identify him physically. From what I saw, there was hardly anything left.

I grab the folder so I can give it back to the detective. On my way back up to the waiting room, I pass his office. The door is ajar, and I knock gently. He looks up from his desk. "Done already?"

"Um, yeah." I step inside his small office and set the file on his desk. "Just a quick question, did you collect any DNA from him or anything? I mean, during the autopsy?"

He reaches for the file. "If it's not noted in the report, then no. We only collect DNA if the death is suspicious. And there was a witness, so it wasn't necessary."

I nod. "Who was the witness?"

"This is still an active investigation, so I can't disclose that information," he says matter-of-factly.

"Right, yeah," I say quickly, waving it off. "I was just wondering if they saw anything that could explain what happened. I mean, a train seems like a pretty brutal way to go, you know?"

"Happens more than you think," he says. "We're called down there at least once a week for the same thing."

"Once a week? " There's shock in my voice.

"More during the holidays. It's really unfortunate."

I nod slowly. God, that's tragic, and I can't help but feel a pang in my chest for those poor souls. "Um, anyway, thank you. I appreciate your help," I say.

"Yup," he says, dismissing me and going back to whatever he was doing.

When I get back home, I still feel queasy, but I feel like I know even less than I did before going to the Sherrif's Station. I was hoping there would be undeniable proof that Gabriel was gone. But what I got instead was a photo of Gabriel's driver's license, a note that I'd already seen, and a jumble of pulverized flesh.

Ugh.

I have to dart home and get ready for class. Just one class today, though, so there's that. But the whole time, all I can see in my mind's eye is that photo of Gabriel's body scattered across the train tracks.

Do you see me now?

I clench my jaw, and swallow, trying to focus on the lecture. I scribble down notes, but I'm only half-listening. My phone buzzes, and I glance at the screen. It's a text from Lux.

Coffee after class? I can meet you at the coffee shop on campus.

I smile down at my phone. Lux and I have gotten really close over the last few months, and we've made it a habit of checking in with each other a couple of times a week. I type out my response.

Sure, sounds good.

I'm zoned out, pen in hand, when someone's backpack comes flying at my face and snaps me out of my daze. It's the person next to me standing up, swinging their backpack over their shoulder. I glance around and everyone else is doing the same.

Shit , I was so out of it I didn't even notice class was over.

I hurriedly shove my laptop into my backpack, then book it across campus to the coffee shop. Lux is already at the head of the line, ordering. I take my place at the back of the line. It's early afternoon, so every single person on campus is getting their caffeine fix.

When Lux finishes ordering, she glances back and spots me. "Oh, Wyn! Hey! I ordered for us," she calls out, waving me over.

I leave the line and pull her into a hug. "Thanks, babe."

"Let's go find a seat."

We go in search of a table, and as we approach, a group miraculously disburses, leaving a table open. It's not a coincidence. Up until recently, Lux was Burning Crown royalty, and that never really goes away. Her boyfriend is Roman Rush, for God's sake. And even though he left the society, he still has an insane amount of power and influence on campus.

Lux takes the seat across from me, leaning back in her chair.

"God, I hate you," I laugh.

That makes her laugh, too. "Why? What'd I do?" she asks incredulously.

"You look so damn happy," I tease. "It's gross."

She presses her lips together in a smile, and looks away briefly, before meeting my gaze again. "It's pretty disgusting, right?" She laughs again. "Sorry, not sorry."

We laugh about all the sex she's getting and how Roman is still the controlling prick he's always been, but now, with a softer edge. And I'm so happy for her, honestly. She's been to hell and back. If anyone deserves peace and a fuck-ton of amazing sex, it's Lux.

But, if I'm being honest, her happiness just highlights how royally fucked up my life has become.

Someone brings our coffee and pastries over. I grab the chocolate croissant and immediately devour it. Buttery flakes of pastry litter my side of the table. I haven't been eating very well lately, so I feel like I'm constantly hungry. I've been so stressed out that I'm usually too exhausted to grab or make anything to eat, so I just end up drinking tea or coffee instead.

"So how are you holding up?" Lux asks, sipping her coffee.

I know Lux pretty well by now, and I can tell she's studying me. After Gabriel's death, she's been by my side every step of the way. She's been dealing with her own grief, so she knows better than anyone what I'm going through.

I shrug one shoulder. "I'm okay."

There's one thing I can't tell her though—any mention of my stalker will have her enrolling me in the witness protection program. Honestly. She has her own past trauma and knowing there's some guy skulking around my apartment would be too much for her. She's so happy now, I can't risk sending her into a tailspin of anxiety all over again.

"You seem…" She pauses to scrutinize me. "...off. Something is off."

I take a sip of my coffee. "There's an initiation ceremony tonight," I say, deflecting.

Lux nods. She knows I hate attending the initiations. "Can you skip it?"

"I've already missed three official Burning Crown events. I went to the Founder's Day thing, but that's not enough to spare me from tonight."

"Ah." She sinks back against her chair, still watching me closely. "So what happened the other night, when you wanted me to call 911? We never really talked about it."

I shrug one shoulder and glance down at my coffee cup, twisting it. "Nothing happened. I was just freaked out, I guess. I've never lived alone, so every little bump in the night is making me jump," I say with a laugh in my voice to set her at ease.

"Hmmm, okay." She narrows her eyes at me like she doesn't believe a word out of my mouth. "I'm also hearing through the grapevine that something went down between Kai and you a few nights ago. But I said that couldn't possibly be true, because you would have told me about it."

Oh, yikes. Her voice is soft but stern like she's confronting a small child about lying. She's clearly annoyed that I haven't been as open as I usually am with her.

I shift in the wooden chair and clear my throat, suddenly feeling like I've been pulled into the principal's office. "Um, yeah, that…I didn't want to worry you. And, honestly, it really wasn't a big deal anyway…"

"Someone said you called the police and accused him of raping you…" she says, but I can tell by her tone that she doesn't believe a word of it. "Apparently, Kai is confirming that, and taking full responsibility."

Yeah, I have a feeling that change of tune has something to do with his "meeting" with Lucas in the basement.

"... And I've heard things are getting weird with you and Lucas," she says. "Like, sexually weird."

" Sexually weird?" I laugh and shake my head. "You are surprisingly well informed for someone who quit the society."

She shrugs. "Is it true?"

I blow out a breath and sink back into my chair. If she's saying this, then other people are talking about it, too, which is mortifying. But there are no secrets in the Burning Crown, so I shouldn't be surprised. "Yeah, there's definitely something between us, but he hates me, so…I don't think anything is really going to happen." Finger-fucking notwithstanding.

Lux nods slowly, absorbing the information with more chill than I would have guessed. "Just promise me you'll be careful. I've heard Lucas can be dangerous when he's provoked…"

Yeah, no lie. But how can I possibly be careful when Lucas is determined to punish me for God knows what?