The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(77)

“He forced you, Malcolm. You had no say in the matter. No district attorney would dream of bringing charges against you. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“That’s not all,” he whispered.

She waited a long moment as Malcolm struggled to form words to continue his story.

“There was a boy. Elijah,” he finally said. “He was ten like me. They made us fight like they did with you and me.” He cried, tears dripping on her arm across his chest.

She squeezed tighter, knowing the story wouldn’t end well.

“They killed him and made me help bury him, Rowan. I never even got to know him. All I knew was his name and age. They kept us apart. I wanted so bad to have someone else there with me.” He shook his head. “But why would I wish that hell on someone else? I’m a horrible person.”

“No!” She took his head in her hands, turning it toward her. The pain in his eyes broke her heart. “You were a lonely and abused child. It’s normal to feel that way. There was nothing wrong with you.”

“I see his face every day, Rowan. It’s my fault he’s dead. I don’t know what I did to make them choose me over him.” He took a shuddering breath. “But there were many days I wished I had been killed instead.”

“It’s not your fault, Malcolm. Those men are responsible for their own actions. They killed him, not you. And I’m so glad you’re alive. You made it out of there and back to us.” She wiped his tears, crushed that he’d been consumed with such dark thoughts. “Were the two women buried near Elijah?”

He nodded.

She hugged him again. “We found their bodies, Malcolm. I thought the boy might be you, but now because you know his name and age, we’ll be able to tell his family and give them some closure. Not knowing if someone is dead or alive is torture.”

Malcolm exhaled heavily. “I’ve carried the image of his dead body with me for years. I thought I was digging my own grave at first.”

“Oh, Malcolm.” Rage flashed and hatred for his captors filled her. She continued to hold him, and they sat like that for a long time. “It’s over,” she’d occasionally whisper.

His head started to droop, and she encouraged him to go to bed.

She slowly moved down the stairs, her heart heavy, Thor beside her.

Will he ever be able to heal?





43


The next morning, Rowan was playing fetch with Thor in her backyard, unable to get her conversation with Malcolm the night before out of her mind.

He was back. That was all that mattered.

Today the FBI would debrief Malcolm so they could find Liam, who’d held Malcolm captive. Rowan wanted him arrested too. And then tortured the way he’d tortured her and Malcolm.

She wanted him to pay. In pain.

Rowan had promised to be at Malcolm’s side for the interview and hoped he could handle the stressful discussion. He seemed so fragile.

Rowan hurled the ball as far as she could with the launcher as her phone rang. She checked her screen and saw the call was from her mother.

“Hey, Mom.” She watched Thor rocket across the grass. A black blur.

“I can’t find West! I went inside for a minute and—”

“Wait!” Rowan clenched the phone, her nerves hitting high alert. “He’s gone? What happened? Are you sure?”

“Your father is looking for him, but he was in the backyard on the swing set, and when I went back out he was gone! I called and called.” Tears were in her mother’s voice.

“Crap! And it’s not like him to hide,” said Rowan, her throat constricting.

Adam.

“I only left West for a minute to use the bathroom! He was in our own fenced backyard!”

“Hang up and call the police, Mom. Now.”

“I don’t want to bother them if—”

“Bother them! You can cancel the call if Dad finds him. And give them Adam’s address too and explain what happened the other night. Does Ivy know?” Thor returned with the ball in his mouth, dropped it at Rowan’s feet, and then sat, his ears and eyes stating he expected another throw.

“No. I called you first.” Her mom’s voice cracked. “I couldn’t tell her! She warned us—”

“I’ll call her.” Sweat beaded on the back of Rowan’s neck. “Is she at work?”

“Yes. Both she and Iris are at the salon today. Your father is furious. He said he’s going to kill Adam if he doesn’t find West.”

“Hide his keys—and yours too. Do not let him go to Adam’s house. That asshole has a gun. Let the police handle it. Hang up and call them now,” she repeated. Rowan ended the call. She hurled Thor’s ball again and then shakily called Iris, knowing her sister was the best person to tell Ivy.

“Hi, Rowan.”

Rowan heard the salon’s music and chatter in the background. “Iris, it’s important that you don’t look at Ivy during this call, and I need you to find a quiet place to talk.”

Her sister was silent for a second. “Okay. I’ll go to the break room.” Ten seconds later a door closed, and the salon sounds vanished. “What happened?” she asked sharply.

“West is missing. Mom just called me. Police should be on the way there by now.”