Thayer straightens, taking in the sight.
“Found him at the falls. He almost went over,” Baker explains, shrugging Christian’s arm off. He stumbles, losing his balance, and Thayer walks over to him, jerking him up by his jacket before planting him in one of the chairs at the dining table.
“Stay,” he orders, pointing a finger at him like a dog.
“Everyone else, get the fuck out!”
Holden walks out back, making the same announcement. Baker turns to leave, but Thayer stops him.
“Not you.”
Baker works his jaw, hesitating, but ultimately, he listens, taking a seat on the other side of the table. Christian starts to slide off his chair and I rush over, catching him before he hits the floor. I shove on his shoulders to push him upright, and bloodshot eyes meet mine so full of pain and something else I can’t place.
“Why do you insist on being nice to me?” he slurs. “If you would have just stayed away…”
Ice fills my veins, like my instincts realize something before my mind can catch up, and I stumble back, my butt hitting the floor. People are still making their way out of the house, and someone steps on my fingers, but it barely registers. Suddenly, another piece of the puzzle snaps into place as a single phrase from the night of the fire pops into my head.
Just be glad you were in the kitchen when it happened.
“How did you know I was in the kitchen?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Baby, what the fuck?” Thayer says, his arms hooking underneath mine to pull me to my feet, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Christian. And judging by the way he’s looking at me, he knows I’ve put it together.
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Shayne,” Thayer says, looking between the two of us. “Explain.”
“It was him. This whole time—my locker, my tires, the window…”
“You?” Thayer says, incredulous. “You were behind it?”
“It was supposed to scare her. I wasn’t trying to hurt her—”
“You weren’t trying to hurt her? You set a fire in her house!” Thayer lunges for him with murder in his eyes, but I step in front of him, my hands on his waist.
“Hitting him isn’t going to give us any answers.”
“No, but it’ll feel good,” he argues, his jaw flexing in anger.
“Look at him. He’s barely conscious as it is.”
“I’m drunk, not deaf,” Christian says, his voice garbled.
“Why?” Holden chimes in. “Why the fuck would you go through all that trouble?”
I turn around to face him as my brain works overtime trying to work out the last piece of the puzzle. “What did I ever do to you?”
Why would he want to scare me away? And why would he be drunk at the falls? Then it hits me. That look in his eyes I couldn’t place…it was guilt. Guilt because—
“You killed Danny.”
Christian doesn’t answer at first, but then he drops his head into his hands, and his shoulders start to shake.
“You better deny that right fucking now,” Holden barks.
Christian looks up at him, eyes shining with tears. “It was an accident.”
His admission hits me like a punch to the gut, and I feel Thayer’s chest heaving behind me. I tense, knowing I won’t be able to hold him back this time. I stick my hand behind me, locking my fingers with his in an attempt to calm him, but it’s in vain, because he’s on Christian before I can blink.