Page 11 of Burning Truths
Shoving down the foul thought that just floated through my head, I stand. My eyes connect to G’s and I give him a slight nod. West moves to his feet and starts to the SUV parked on the other side of the gaping hole in the ground, the hole mirroring the one in my chest. G struts up to Juliana and grips her forearm with a rough hold. Before she can speak, I spin towards her and give her a look that brings her to a full stop. Out of fear? No. Fuck, I don’t think anything scares this woman. Except one thing. Out of fear of embarrassment? Yeah, that’s the only thing that’s keeping her lips sealed shut.
Turning to the town, I give them a wide toothed smile, but it doesn’t touch my eyes. The looks I get back prove that my mask isn’t in place as well as I thought. Sweat starts to pool around eyebrows, some women lean back in their chairs, some of the men look to each other, but they have no reason to be scared. Yet.
“We all know why we called you here today. Cole Stone was killed two weeks ago.” I pause for effect.
No one needs to know the truth. Not right now anyway. The people who do know the truth don’t flinch with the lie.
“Not only will we celebrate his life today while we lay him to rest, but we also bring to light what he wanted us all to know.”
I don’t look behind me to confirm what I already know. West, dragging a man from the back of the SUV by his throat. It’s not an easy task, but West is powerful and has the strength to haul a grown man a few yards. G moves my mother to the other side of the aisle to keep her out of arm's reach, but he stays on her left side so he can jump my way if needed. It’s not.
“Everyone take a seat.”
Several eyes gaze around attempting to find an open chair, but coming up short. My fuse shortens with impatience.
“Sit the fuck down!” I shout.
By the time West reaches me, every breathing fucker around me is either in a chair or on the ground. West drops him at my feet, my eye snapping to his in warning. Red dots play in my vision, the sinister look I’m throwing his way clearly staying I’m not in the mood for his games.
Holding his hands up, he backs away with that playboy smile showing. He steps behind me, standing just to the side so everyone can see him. Our presence is felt. Juliana looks like she’s ready to skin us both alive, but I don’t bat an eye. Instead, I shove my fingers through his hair, clasping it in a punishing grip before yanking his head back.
“Stand.” My voice is hollow, void of all the emotions I’m harboring under lock and key. It wasn’t a suggestion, but an order. One he obeys like a good little bitch.
“I think everyone wants to know your name.”
His knees buckle under his weight, but my hold on his hair keeps him from falling. It doesn’t stop the wince from the pain from crossing his face. I push my knee into the back of his thigh, reminding him that I’m waiting.
“Trey.”
“Trey-?” I prompt. My grasp getting tighter with annoyance.
He clears his throat, “Trey Thompson.” His words are shaky.
Nodding my head, I look from him to the crowd.
“Our friend Trey here works for my family. He’s been one of our hands men for a year or two.” I pause, scanning the faces below me, waiting. Turning back to Trey, I drag his face close to mine until I’m sure he can feel my breath on his skin.
“Trey’s always been really good to us. Right?” I let out a dry laugh. “He’s been so good to us in fact that he brought us a little gift. Something my brother and I have been dying to get our hands on.”
West chimes in, “Hell yeah, he found exactly what we were looking for, and being such a good worker he brought us right to it.”
Murmurs start to pick up, but when we both jerk our heads towards the gathering silence follows. West moves to the side and slowly begins to walk through the isles, his hands lazily placed in his pockets. Juliana watches our every move, confusion painted across her face, but when she catches me looking she swipes it clean, cooling her features in a blink of an eye.
“Trey, the people want to know what you got us. I mean, it’s something that’s worth sharing!” I yell in enthusiasm.
“I- um- I-.” he trails off his eyes turning glassy as he continues,, “I’m sorry.” His words start to spill out. Pleading. Begging. The words ‘please don’t’, trigger something deep in my chest, knowing that Kenna could be screaming those same words. Boiling rage floods my system.
My fist slams into the side of his face, blood flies out, coating my suit,blending in with the black.
“Don’t worry, Trey. We didn’t take your gift without bringing our own.”
I jerk my head to the side, calling G over. He releases my mother, leaving her standing there to bathe in silent rage. Coming to a stop at my side, G pulls out a long carving knife and drops it in my hand. The town audibly gasps, but no one moves a muscle. They may not want to witness what’s about to happen, but they respect us enough to stay in their place. Even the cops of Del Mar keep their nose out of our business.
“West, how much do we appreciate our little gift?” I ask, my gaze focused on the man before me.
Trey slides to his knees, pleas fall from his lips, his skin glistens with fallen tears..
West has made his way to the back of the group, but I can still see the top of his head.