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As I reached the end of the film, my heart sank. The fire that killed my parents was nowhere to be found. What the actual fuck? How does an entire house burn down, killing two people, and not one journalist published anything about it?
Fuck, I hated the people in this town. Just more proof that they didn’t want the Bishops to exist. So they treated us like we didn’t. Now I was the only one left.
After scrolling through the next film, I was about to give up and call it a day when I came across an article on the Wickford family. They founded the town and had more money than everyone in it combined. All the stuff I knew before. Blah, blah, blah.
Oh, wait, what the fuck is this? The second article mentioned that Raine Wickford built Wickford Mansion after moving here from Ever Graves, shortly after he wed a young socialite named Daisy Thorn. Mrs. Wickford. That’s the bitch who poisoned my guys.
I scrolled through more bullshit about how rich they were and all the great things they did for the town, but I couldn’t find any pictures. Fuck. I couldn’t help my curiosity. At one time, she was the woman they worshiped. A part of me wanted to see what she looked like. Probably for the best, though. I’d only end up driving myself crazy comparing myself to her.
I spent another hour scouring through three more film cartridges but found nothing. I rubbed my eyes. I was nowhere closer to finding out anything about the day I became an orphan.
Fuck, last one. The microfilm came to life on the screen as I loaded it and the first article that popped up made my stomach turn. A picture of Wickford Mansion in flames splayed across the screen. Something twisted in my gut, sharp like a knife. Bile crept up my throat. This was from that party, the summer after graduation.
I scrolled down and skimmed the article, pausing on the last line: Several of the trespassers claimed to see someone buried under the rubble, but no bodies were recovered. My breath hitched. Someone might have died that night. Fucking hell. That could be why I was seeing and hearing things around the house.
I skipped to another article, my heart racing, that stated all partygoers had been accounted for and the body they saw was most likely a squatter. Jesus, these people were something else. They didn’t even bother investigating any further once they decided the person killed wasn’t one of their spoiled little rich kids. I gritted my teeth as I yanked the microfilm out of the machine.
Rage coursed through my veins as I shoved all the microfilm back into their drawers. The only thing I learned today was just how deep the hate in this town ran. And now I had even more questions. And a sneaking suspicion that someone didn’t want anyone talking about the fire that killed my parents.
I sat in the driveway, the heater blasting, not quite ready to go inside. I didn’t want the guys to know I was digging into my past. It’s not that they wouldn’t support it, it’s just that everything was so perfect when I first moved in here. I didn’t want anything to ruin that.
I gazed up at Wickford Mansion as the phone rang three times before she picked up.
“Hey, bitch, I was just about to text you,” Maureen shrilled into the phone. “Should I get another tattoo before I leave for school? I want to give off an edgier vibe in my new life.”
I chuckled. “Hell, yeah. You should get at least two more,” I teased.
She snorted. “This is why you’re my friend. What’s up with you?”
I tapped my nails against the steering wheel. “Well, not to be a downer but… I just left the library.”
Maureen feigned a gasp. “Oh, the horror!”
I snickered. “That’s not the downer part. I’ve been looking into the fire that killed my parents.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry, Bales. Fuck. I know that has always been in the back of your mind. So, what did you find?”
I sighed. “Jack shit. Apparently, no one thought it was newsworthy.”
“Ugh, that’s ridiculous. And shady as fuck,” Maureen drawled.
I nodded into the phone. “Yup. So, I was wondering if you could talk to your dad. I know he’s not allowed to share confidential stuff but maybe he remembers something. Wasn’t he one of the first ones on the scene?”
“Of course, Bales,” her voice cracked. “He hates talking about work but you’re my best friend. I’ll ask him tonight at dinner.”
If anyone could get the sheriff to talk, it would be his favorite daughter. “Thanks, Maur. I just don’t think I can let this go until I know for sure what happened.”
“You got it, babe. We’ll find out together.”
“Okay, text me later.”
I hung up the phone and gripped the steering wheel. Why was I like this? I should be enjoying my life right now instead of dwelling on the past. But it wouldn’t let me go…
As winter loomed over us, the days were cold and gloomy in Wickford Hollow. But at night, the house came alive with energy. With a fire going in every hearth, bright chandeliers that lit up every room, and the scents of Poe’s cooking wafting through the entire house, it was like our own private wonderland. It was enough to make me temporarily forget about the shadows that had crept into my bones.
I stood in the kitchen watching the three of them set the table, wondering how I got so lucky to find them. They were sexy as fuck, dangerous, and unpredictable, but they were also caring, sweet, and gentle when they needed to be.
Saint wrapped his big arms around me from behind. His cock stirred in his pants, pressing against my back. “You’re killing me in this outfit.”
