Page 233 of Revenge Reads Better

“Think about it, Max. Who stands to lose the most if the truth about that fire ever comes out? Who’s benefited from all that money flowing into Fairhope, not to mention the political influence that came with it?” She gives my shoulders a gentle squeeze. “It would be a damn shame if someone decided to reopen the investigation because one of the people involved finally admitted the fire wasn’t an accident. That it was arson all along. Suddenly, those settlements could come under scrutiny, and people might start asking some very uncomfortable questions.”

I stare at Peyton, watching her jab an accusing finger toward Neptune’s chest.

“You think Peyton—”

“I think loose lips sink ships,” Sienna interrupts. “And maybe living with the possibility that one of her precious friends might eventually grow a conscience and tell the truth became too much for her. Ten years is a long time to spend looking over your shoulder, wondering which one of your besties is going to be the first to crack.”

“So she kills them?”

“Maybe she toys with the idea at first. But then you came back to Fairhope for the reunion, and suddenly, it all falls into place. The girl she’s hated since high school. The only witness who pointed a finger at her from the very beginning, only to have no one believe a word she said. And why would they? There were eight other girls there that night, all telling a different version of events. Eight against one. You never stood a fucking chance.” Sienna pauses, letting the implication settle between us. “Suddenly, Peyton has the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of everyone who could expose her little secret and make damn sure her oldest enemy takes the fall for it. Now, I’m no writer, but how’s that for a plot twist? Too far-fetched, or just believable enough to be terrifying?”

“The latter. Definitely the latter,” I mutter.

I always knew Peyton was ruthless, but to go as far as killing her own friends?

I mean, her coming after me is nothing new. She’s been making my life miserable for as long as I can remember. But murdering the very people who worshipped the ground she walked on and followed her every command? The same girls who lied for her, protected her, and helped her get away with murder?

That’s a whole new level of fucked up.

“So, I’m going to ask you again. Where do you want to go?”

“Home. Back to the B&B.”

“That’s what I thought.” A triumphant glint lights up Sienna’s eyes.

She turns and starts making her way through the crowd, and I fall into step behind her, more than happy to put some distance between myself and the accusing stares being thrown my way. We’re almost at the edge of the square when something catches my attention.

A familiar silhouette standing beneath the shadows of an old oak tree.

For a moment, the flickering candlelight catches his face, illuminating features I would recognize anywhere.

Milo.

He’s watching the commotion unfold from a distance, his face impossible to read. For a moment, relief washes over me. After everything that’s happened tonight, there’s nothing I’d like more than to bury my face in his chest and let him hold me until the rest of the world disappears.

Before I can raise my hand to catch his attention, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the darkness.

I frown, staring after him.

Something about the way he left doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe it’s the fact that he didn’t come looking for me after Kayla’s accusations. Or maybe it’s because he was standing so far removed from everyone else, watching the whole thing unfold without making any attempt to intervene.

Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. God knows I’ve got plenty of reasons to be.

Still, as I stare at the spot where he stood only seconds ago, a terrible thought begins to take shape. One I immediately try to dismiss, because it’s ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Except the more I think about it, the harder it becomes to ignore.

Sienna’s convinced Peyton is behind the murders, and I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. But what if she’s wrong? What if we’ve been so focused on the Reds and their secrets that we’ve overlooked someone else entirely?

Someone who knows exactly what happened at the mill that year. Someone who watched the people responsible walk away without so much as a slap on the wrist. Someone who had to live with the consequences of their cruelty while the rest of Fairhope went about its merry fucking business.

Someone who has every reason to want revenge.

My stomach twists.

No. I refuse to go there.

I know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do. I know how easily suspicion can turn into certainty when people start looking for reasons to believe the worst about you. And I refuse to do that to someone I love.