Burning Daylight: Chapter 47

I don’t see Juliette for the rest of the night.

It makes my skin crawl and my nerves skitter like fire ants, because I need to talk to her; to tell her everything that’s happened. Explain why I can’t just pick up and leave even though I promised her the world.

Before I second guess myself, I’m weaving through the ballroom, and scanning every corner trying to find her.

Something doesn’t feel right.

And my dad isn’t answering his phone.

There’s a weight in the pit of my stomach, heavy and solid, like dread poured concrete in my gut.

When I come up empty inside, I slip through the side doors and make my way out of the building, into the space between the main structure and the university’s courtyard. The wind bites at my cheeks, but I barely feel it.

Where the fuck could she be?

A low throb starts behind my eyes, the kind that comes with too many loose ends and nowhere to put them.

“What are you doing out here?”

I spin, my heartbeat kicking against my chest like a loaded gun. “Jesus, Frederick. Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even so much as smirk. Instead, he cocks his head to the side, taking me in like he’s seeing me for the first time. “What are you doing out here, Roman?”

My mouth is dry, my tongue sticking to the roof like glue. “Needed some air,” I say, keeping my tone even. “Why? Is that not allowed?”

“Your father was asking for you back at the manor,” he replies. “Said he wasn’t feeling well.”

My stomach twists. “Is he okay?”

“He’s resting.”

I nod slowly, my throat spasming as I swallow. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“You seem on edge, everything all right?” he questions.

I shift my weight, trying not to let him see my jaw tighten. “Just nervous about what we’re planning to do.”

Voices filter from around the corner of the building, footsteps and half-drunk catcalls echoing off the edges of the campus’s brick, and then Merrick, Benjamin, and Rosalie show up. Merrick is drunk; it’s more than obvious. His bow tie is untied and lazily strung around his neck, and his hair is mussed up, his arm thrown around Rosalie’s shoulders as she drags him over to us.

Relief flows through me at them being here. Now I’m not alone with Frederick.

“Benny, come and get your friend, please,” she complains. “He’s deadweight and doesn’t know his limits.”

“I know my limits,” Merrick slurs. He rips his arm back from her and then stumbles toward us, almost tripping over his shoes.

“Fucking hell, Merrick, I told you not to drink so much,” Benjamin snaps at him, running a hand through his hair and stopping a few paces from us.

Merrick throws his hands out to his sides, spinning in a circle. “It’s a party, is it not?”

He stumbles and rights himself, running a hand over his face and giggling. He looks at me and grins. “I’m drunk.”

I lift a brow, amused. “No shit.”

Frederick cuts Benjamin a harsh glare.

Benjamin swallows and breaks their stare. “Come on. With our luck, we’ll run into a goddamn Calloway out here, and it’ll turn into a fight.”

Merrick closes one eye like he’s trying to aim down the barrel of a gun and points at Benjamin. “You are one of those guys who pretends he doesn’t want to fight but is always ready to have one.”

Benjamin scoffs, picking at invisible lint on his sleeve. “I am not.”

Rosalie laughs, and Benjamin tosses her a cutting look. “What?”

“You totally are,” she says. “Someone does the smallest thing and then you’re pissed, and if you’re mad, then you’re always the first one looking for a fight.”

He scowls but then shrugs like he’s accepting his flaws. “All the more reason for us to leave here and go back to our turf before something bad happens. I’m too valuable to stick around and get hurt. Right, Freddy?”

Frederick tilts his head, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You should leave.”

Merrick guffaws. “You’re an idiot.”

Benjamin quirks his brow. “Yet out of the two of us, I’m the only one standing straight and talking sense.”

More voices echo in the distance, and a group of people walks around the same corner in varying states of disarray.

Frederick sighs.

“Great,” Benjamin complains. “Here they come.”

Merrick squints and sways. “Wow. Look at that. I still don’t care.”

I follow their line of sight and see Tyler at the front of the group, talking to Juliette’s brother Lance.

“Leave it alone, Ty,” Lance mumbles when they get close.

Tyler looks like he’s ready to murder someone.

“Nah,” he says, flicking a glare our way. “You leave it alone. I’ll talk to them.”

He stomps over before the others can stop him and halts right in front of us. He flicks his gaze to Frederick, and his lips thin.

Benjamin crosses his arms, and Merrick just smiles. Rosalie shrinks in on herself, and I wonder what the story between them is. She’s Tyler’s sister, yet she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with him.

What kind of a brother just abandons his sister and pretends like she doesn’t exist?

I imagine doing that to Brooklynn, and it makes my chest ache.

“Hey, Roman. I want to have a word with you,” Tyler says.

Merrick cackles. “Just one word? Put it with something else, Ty, like a fist. Benny here wants to fight.”

Tyler’s eyes narrow, and he cracks his knuckles. “I’ll fuck Benny up any day, just give me a reason.”

Merrick sways, his arm propping on my shoulder to keep him steady. I let him, because he’s already escalating this situation, and the last thing we need is for him to fall over.

“You can’t find a reason without me giving you one?” Merrick taunts. “That’s lazy, Ty.”

Tyler sneers, his gaze landing on me before going to his sister. “I can’t believe you’re hanging out with a Montgomery, Rosalie. I know you’ve always stooped low, but he’s gutter trash.”

Merrick laughs, and I bristle. “Hanging out? You make us sound like we’re a band of groupies. If you wanted to hear us make some noise, that’s all you had to say.”

He straightens, something sinister flashing through his gaze now, suddenly seeming a lot more sober than he has for the past few minutes.

Frederick steps forward, shielding Merrick from view. “You want to talk to Roman, then you go to a private place, Tyler. This is public. It’s a bad look for everyone, and reporters are always lurking in the shadows just waiting for one of us to show our hand.”

It hits me then, fully, what’s happening. Tyler wants to talk to me, and Merrick has been protecting me, even through his drunken slurs.

Gratitude fills my chest, but it mixes with dread, because I don’t know why Tyler would have anything to say to me unless it involved Juliette, and that I don’t like at all.

Besides, I don’t need Merrick to fight my battles.

Merrick gives Frederick an incredulous look. “What do I care if they see? Let them watch.”

This is getting ridiculous. I maneuver around them. “You want to talk, Tyler, then let’s talk.”

Tyler smirks at Merrick and Frederick and then gives a mock bow, and we move over to a different part of the sidewalk, far enough away that they can’t overhear us but close enough that everyone’s eyes stay stuck on us.

Juliette’s brother Lance hasn’t said a single word. He just stands off to the side with his arms crossed and his lips twisted into a frown as he watches us. Almost like he’s waiting for something, although what, I can’t be sure.

“Leave Juliette alone,” Tyler states, crossing his arms and pinning me with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My heart beats faster, nerves making my insides jump. Something isn’t right.

“She told me,” he spits.

“Told you what?”

He smirks. “Everything. She’s my cousin. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

My lungs cramp. Everything? I don’t believe that she would.

“Tyler.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “You’re not my enemy. If you would just⁠—”

“I don’t care,” he cuts me off. “Nothing you say will excuse the harm that your family has caused me. I bleed out every day, alone. No father. No mother. No goddamn sister. And now you want to take Juliette, too?”

He moves his gaze to Rosalie, something sad flickering in his gaze, and then he hardens again. Takes a step forward, his head tilting as he looks at her.

His nostrils flare. “Rosalie. Is that a bruise on your face?”

The air whooshes out of me, and my brows hike, as I spin to face her and Benjamin. “What?”

Is that why she’s been hiding her face all night?

Tyler reaches into his waistband, and before I can blink, he brings out a gun.

Immediately, I throw up my hands, my heart pounding in my ears. Jesus Christ.

“Tyler.” Lance’s voice echoes like a boom, and then everyone is close again, trying to regain control of the situation.

“What the fuck, Ty?” Rosalie screams. “Where did you get a gun? What the hell is wrong with you?”

Frederick stands on the side, his hands still in his pockets.

“Shut up, Rosalie,” Tyler says. “I’m doing this for you.”

“Tyler,” I say, making sure to keep my voice even-keeled.

His eyes are watery, like he’s trying to hold back tears.

Merrick moves to stand next to me and Benjamin. “Ty, if you want to fight someone, fight me. With your fists, you coward. At least then it would be fair.”

I can’t believe this is happening right now. All I want to do is go be with Juliette, but instead, I’m here with people trying to fight my battles and one of her cousins holding us at gunpoint because Benjamin’s a piece of shit. I knew that this town was messed up, but this is another level.

Lance steps forward again, his brow furrowed and his gaze locked on Tyler. He moves slow and steady, almost as if he’s trained to, and Tyler doesn’t even realize how close Lance has gotten, because he hasn’t taken his own eyes off Benjamin or me.

His hand is trembling so badly, the gun shakes. “Uncle Craig would kiss the ground I walked on if I got rid of you both.” His eyes flash. “Everyone would be better off.”

“I’ll leave,” I say with my hands up.

“I don’t care!” he spits. “I want her to be free.”

I frown. “Who, Juliette?”

Tyler’s grip grows stronger on his gun, and he re-aims, his hand steadying.

The night is so quiet around us, it’s like even it can feel that moving would be perilous.

And then Merrick—drunk as shit—sways.

Pop.

For a second, there’s no movement. I question if I even heard the gun go off; there must be a silencer on it, because the noise was muffled. It didn’t crack against the sky. But then, a flurry happens.

Lance grips Tyler’s hand and disarms him like it’s as easy for him as breathing, and he tosses the gun to the side so he can restrain him by the arms.

But Tyler’s not fighting them; he’s staring next to me with wide eyes like he can’t believe what he’s just done. His mouth opens and closes. “I didn’t, I don’t⁠—”

Merrick stumbles and falls, his hand gripping his side and blood pouring through his fingers.

“Jesus.” I jump forward, my hands replacing his, trying to stanch the bleeding. I drop to my knees as he falls to the ground.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

From my periphery, I see Frederick walk forward, bend over, and pick up the discarded weapon. He stares at it in his hands and then says something to Tyler, making Lance’s eyes grow wide. But I don’t know what. All I can hear is the panic whooshing in my ears, and all I can feel is Merrick’s blood soaking my fingers.

Benjamin is shell-shocked. He looks down, sees Merrick, and a calm fury replaces everything else on his face. Lance is talking to Tyler and trying to calm him down, and Rosalie is sobbing.

But all I can pay attention to is Merrick.

“Fuck,” he mutters, and then coughs.

“Merrick.” I don’t know what to do, how to stop the wound, or who to call. I want to reach for my phone to dial 911, but I don’t want to move my hands in case it makes him bleed out faster, or—I don’t know, but I need to do something.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, shit,” I manage.

“Just a scratch, sweetheart,” he forces out, silent tears tracking down his cheeks.

“Tyler, you absolute idiot.” Benjamin’s voice rings out sharp and sure, and my gaze snaps up to everyone, seeing Frederick step into the middle of the courtyard and face Tyler, the gun flat in his palms.

Lance is now comforting Rosalie, Tyler standing frozen still.

“Ro-Roman.”

I snap my gaze back down to Merrick.

“No—nothing good can come from you being here. The people…the people you think you can trust are not what they seem. So, if you love…” He pauses again, gritting his teeth. “Love her. Choose her. These families are cursed.” He cries out in clear pain, and then his eyes focus on everyone else, and he tries to sit up. Somehow, he makes his voice strong. “Do you hear me? A plague on both your houses!”

He drops back to the ground, gasping, and then his body goes limp, and he slips from my grasp.

“Somebody do something!” I yell out. “Get over whatever bullshit this is and call for help.”

Benjamin unfreezes from where he’s staring at Merrick, his face ghostly white, and then he nods and spins around, running back inside the building.

If I wasn’t so focused on Merrick, maybe I could stop what happens next, but I don’t.

“Freddy, listen, you gotta understand.” Tyler’s voice is panicked.

“You had one job, Tyler. One thing I ask of you, and I’d let Benjamin give her back.”

What the fuck?

Frederick looks down at the gun and then back up to him. “But you’re always causing problems.”

Lance stiffens, and he bursts into movement, but it’s too late.

Frederick moves the gun. Aims it.

And shoots Tyler right in the chest.

The world freezes again.

And then Rosalie lets out a guttural scream.

The next few minutes are complete chaos.

“Ty,” Lance yells out, his voice rough and deep, like he’s trying to hold it together. He grasps Tyler’s body in his arms, and he’s shaking so violently I can see it from where I’m still holding onto Merrick.

I’m frozen in my spot, because Merrick is still breathing, and I’m afraid if I move, if I let go, then he’ll die.

The gun hangs loose at Frederick’s side, and Tyler is on the sidewalk with blood pooling beneath him and a hole in his chest.

Bile rises up my throat, and I glance away, nostrils flaring as I keep it down.

This is not the time to freak out.

“You are so fucked!” Rosalie screams, pointing at Frederick. “I hate you. I hate you, do you hear me? Uncle Craig won’t let you get away with this!”

Frederick laughs and walks forward, brushing the barrel of the gun down Rosalie’s face. “I’m fucked?” He swings around, giving me a side glance, and then looking back at them. “I’m the boss here.”

What?

Rosalie drops down next to Lance and Tyler, big fat black mascara tears running down her face and streaking on her cheeks.

“Tyler!” she screams instead, her voice broken. “Ty…please.”

“Shut her up, Lance, or I’ll do it for you.” Frederick points to Rosalie.

Lance glares at him. “You were supposed to end all of this, not make things worse. We trusted you.”

My heart twists, confusion making my head throb and my stomach drop.

Frederick cracks his neck and then turns on his heel, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. “Lesson number one. Never trust anyone.”

It takes me a moment to realize that he’s talking to me.

“Fuck you, Frederick,” I snap.

He crouches down next to me, and then before I can even process it, he reaches for my hand, pressing something cold into it.

The gun.

My fingers wrap instinctively around it, and then I panic, dropping it to the ground. It’s too late, though. It’s right there. My grip, smudged with Merrick’s blood.

My prints are all over that weapon.

“You’re out of your mind,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

Frederick smiles. “Can’t believe you’d do all this just to help your father seek his revenge.”

My eyes widen.

“There are witnesses,” I say, my chest feeling like it might explode from the pressure. “You can’t spin this.”

“Yet everyone here knows what they saw.” He looks back to Rosalie and Lance, who both have looks of grief but resignation on their faces.

Tyler twitches on the ground.

Frederick stands and straightens his tux. “Tyler’s always been a loose cannon. Everyone knows it. He snapped and shot Merrick, and you jumped in, got caught in the chaos.”

I shake my head.

“I got here just in time.” He grimaces. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough to save you from ending your own life.”

He picks up the gun and aims it at my head, and it’s only then I realize he’s wearing gloves. Like he was prepared for this moment.

My breath leaves me in a whoosh.

I stare up at him, my heart racing, my fingers still halfway inside of Merrick’s bullet wound, and my mind trying to claw its way out of this nightmare. “Who are you?”

He leans in close, shoving me from Merrick’s body and pressing the barrel against my head. “I’m the one who’s about to inherit everything your family’s built. You signed on the dotted line, after all.”

Jesus Christ. It’s all about money. That’s all any of these people care about.

My eyes flick to Rosalie, who has quieted now, soft sobs coming from her, and she looks broken.

She meets my gaze, but only for a second before she drops her face back down.

I let out a disbelieving laugh, but I don’t have time to think things through right now. Shock wraps its icy tendrils around me. I swallow, looking at everyone one final time, because how is this real life?

My fingers are soaked in a deep, musky red, and nausea churns in my gut when I focus on them, so instead, I stare down at the blood-stained sidewalk, and then to my clothes, where spatters are streaked across the white of my tuxedo like paint.

My hands tremble.

“My father won’t let you get away this.”

Frederick smiles. “Marcus made this town bleed for decades. He was about to go broke right at the end, like a dog. The world is better off without him. Your family was never supposed to be the one in power.”

A sledgehammer to the stomach would shock me less. I stumble back, slipping on the ground as I stand. “You killed him.”

He shrugs. “I put the poor man out of his misery. It’s amazing what a few zeros and an underpaid nurse will agree to. Especially if you frame it as a mercy.”

The world tilts.

The blood on my hands is sticky now, tacky and dark. My tux is ruined. My fingers won’t stop shaking.

Lance’s eyes meet mine, and then a noise comes from the side of the building.

Loud yelling and a door slamming closed.

Frederick curses under his breath, standing tall. His grip on the gun tightens.

And I don’t think.

I stand up, and I run.