Page 44 of Arranged Scars
I bite my tongue, open the door, and stare at the TV.
Three brothers to go.
17
CAROLINE
The funeral’s scheduled for a Wednesday, just four days after Shane’s body was found beaten to a pulp in a brothel. Nobody’s talking about how he died. It’s like we all know Shane brought it on himself somehow. At least, that’s how it feels to me. Except Shane’s a dark pit in my heart, a shadow across my soul, a stain on everything that’s ever been good about me, and I’m not sure if I can get his last moments out of my head.
I put on a black dress, fix my hair, and do my makeup. I doubt I’m going to cry, but I shove tissues into my little black purse, just in case I have to put on a show.
Finn’s downstairs in a suit. He’s sipping whiskey and staring out the window at the skyline. We haven’t spoken much since it happened. Most days, he’s out dealing with work. I think sometimes he’s out with my brothers trying to find Shane’s killers. He’s probably having fun throwing them off our trail.
As far as I can tell, nobody suspects us, not even a little bit.
Which is insane. Can’t they see the blood all over my hands? Don’t they notice this ugly stain on my soul?
I helped murder my own brother.
It’s like I’ve been irrevocably changed, like I’ve somehow made myself uglier, but nobody even cares.
Most of my days are spent swimming and taking saunas right now. I try not to think about Shane or the rest of my brothers. The sickest part of all this is the idea that we might stop with him hasn’t even occurred to me.
The first one’s always the hardest.
I’m a killer now, so why not go all the way?
When I get downstairs, Finn looks back at me. His eyes drift down my body, lingering on my lips, and finally he meets my gaze. “Ready for this?”
He shows absolutely no emotion.
I open my mouth to say yes, I’ll be fine, but instead my anger swells. I know this isn’t the time or place for this. I should’ve talked to him much sooner. But something about the coming funeral and my own mixed feelings finally snaps my self-control. I’ve been keeping these thoughts buried since that night and now they spill out like lava from my throat.
“You lied to me.”
I stare at him, struggling to maintain my composure.
His lips tug into a frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You didn’t say we were going to torture him. You lied to me, Finn. He could’ve killed me.”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
“He almost killed you!”
Finn’s jaw tightens as he carefully puts the glass of whiskey down. “You’re angry about the wine.”
“Damn right I’m angry about the wine!” I take a step forward, trembling. I hate the way my body betrays me. I need strength right now. That’s the only thing a man like Finn will respect. “You told me it was poison.”
“It was.”
“Liar. Damn it, Finn. Stop lying to me.”
“That bottle was poisoned, Caroline. It was a slow poison designed to cripple him, but to leave him alive. I couldn’t have known he’d do enough cocaine to kill a horse before drinking it.”
I could scream. He’s always got an answer for everything. “You didn’t tell me that part. You made me think he’d drink the wine and he’d be dead. You didn’t mention anything about you coming in and hurting him first.”
Finn nods slowly. His face twitches slightly like he’s trying hard to keep himself under control too. I’d love to see him break right now, if at least to know there’s a human hidden deep inside the monster.
