Revelations (Brighton Wolves #1)

  Chapter Twelve

  Her heart stopped in her chest and her hands began to tremble. No, no, no. She repeated the words in her mind over and over again as if it would make what she was seeing just a nightmare. Her mouth went paper dry and a lump formed in the back of her throat, making it impossible to call for Gabe. She couldn’t take her eyes off the body that was lying face down in the mud, completely naked and smeared with dried blood that had to be from several bite marks all over her body. Gwen couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t need to.

  Bite marks covered her arms and legs, and Gwen could see one on the side of her neck that looked like a huge chunk of flesh had been ripped from her throat. Guilt tore through her and she doubled over, dropping to her knees on the creek bank, wishing that she and Gabe had stayed out longer to look for her. She stared at the various wounds, wondering what hell Ginny had gone through before she died, how scared she must have been, how lonely she must have felt. She had died alone and in tremendous pain, knowing that her entire family had failed her.

  Gwen clenched her hands as tears began to fall down her cheeks. She threw her head back and wailed, sounding more like a wounded animal than a girl. She heard hurried footsteps and knew that Gabe was right there beside her. He skidded to a stop, his eyes finding the body in an instant. She could just barely see him out of the corner of her eyes—the disbelief, guilt, and hopelessness were obvious on his face. His shoulders slumped and his mouth hung open, tears gathering in his eyes. He shook his head, taking a step towards her body, as if he was in a trance and unable to look away.

  “Gwen—”

  “It’s Ginny,” she said, her voice flat and shaky. “I know it is.” She sobbed, pounding her fists into the mud by the creek. She screamed as loud as she could, pouring all of her anger and grief into it. Gabe reached out to touch her but thought better of it, pulling away to give her some space while she pounded the earth, screaming over and over again as if her rage and pain could bring Ginny back to life. He watched her for a moment, his face pale and his cheeks wet with tears.

  “I—I’ll get everyone,” he said, taking a step back. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  She turned and glared at him, making him freeze in his tracks. “I would never leave her,” she growled, clenching her hands again. She stared Gabe down, forcing him to look away from her. He muttered something she didn’t catch before taking off towards the house, shouting for their parents as he did. She could hear him long after he was out of her sight, but she turned her back to it, facing Ginny’s body once again.

  She should have looked away. Ginny was naked from head to toe, and it felt indecent to be staring at her, but Gwen couldn’t bring herself to peel her eyes away. She took in every inch of Ginny’s body, cataloging each wound and smudge of blood and dirt, each displaced hair, every tiny little clue that might lead to something later. Now that the shock was over, her mind was on auto-pilot, functioning as if she were a robot. She felt dead inside—hopeless and hollow—like the light had just gone out of her world.

  And in a way it had.

  Ginny was gone and nothing would bring her back. They would never share secrets past their bedtime, shop until their feet were sore, or gossip like old women. Or even become old women, something they had been talking about for years. The thought of growing old without Ginny made her chest ache and her breath come in short gasps as she fought to keep her panic at bay. They had made plans for their futures together, and now it was all meaningless. Even though they hadn’t spent nearly enough time together in recent years, their lives had always been tethered together, binding them for life.

  What am I going to do without her? The question left a sour taste in her mouth, and Gwen fought to keep from puking all over the creek bed. Another look at Ginny’s limp body had her resolve breaking, and bile rose in the back of her throat. She retched, doubling over as she puked into the muddy creek. Her entire body heaved with the force of her sickness, her hands digging into the mud and her back arching as her stomach emptied. Even then, it didn’t stop, and she continued to be sick until nothing but spit and bile came up.

  Her stomach was on fire and she cried from the pain, but it only made it harder for her to breathe. By the time she was finally done being sick, she was shaking and her breath came in harsh gasps. When Gabe finally returned, she was curled up on her side in the mud, hugging her knees to her chest. Her sobs had quieted, but she was still trembling. He dropped to her side instantly, his hand going to her back in an attempt to comfort her. She didn’t have the strength to move, so Gabe pulled her up and to his chest, holding her tightly.

  The others came at a run, and Geoffrey was the first one to reach Ginny. He jumped into the creek, splashing Gwen and Gabe with cold water, but she hardly noticed. As she opened her eyes, she saw him drop to his knees beside Ginny’s body, his knees sinking into the mud. With shaking hands, he reached out and brushed aside a strand of hair from her face, revealing her dark blue eyes—open wide in death. His face crumpled and he pulled Ginny’s body into his arms, crying as he held onto her for dear life.

  Sandra came at a run, but she stopped on the creek bank when she saw her husband and daughter. She shook her head, muttering to herself over and over again, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Tears fell from her eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand, sobbing quietly to herself while their parents arrived. Immediately, Karen went to her own children, kneeling in the mud beside them and pulling them close, hugging them tighter than Gwen could ever remember being held. She whispered soothing words to them, stroking their hair, but it did little to calm them.

  Grant came at a slower pace, dragging his feet as if they weighed a ton. It looked like each step pained him, like he was reluctant to take the next one. Finally, he reached the edge of the creek, and his eyes became fixed on Ginny. He completely ignored his children grieving on the bank, unable to look away from the scene unfolding in front of him. His eyes were wide and haunted, but he alone wasn’t crying. Instead of tears, Gwen could see the fury etched into his face, and his hands were fists at his sides, shaking as he fought to control himself.

  He spun and punched a nearby tree, cracking the wood and splintering a chunk off. The sound was like the crack of a whip, and it made Gwen flinch. Grant hit the tree over and over again until his knuckles were torn and bloody, and he finally collapsed against the tree, too exhausted to do anything else. The tears finally came, seeping down his cheeks as he nursed his wounded hand, holding it tightly to his chest as he rocked back and forth.

  Sandra waded through the shallow creek until she was beside Geoffrey. She knelt in the water, her blue dress getting soaked and clinging to her legs, but she didn’t seem to notice. Tentatively, she reached out and stroked Ginny’s face, her fingers trembling and her lips quivering. Geoffrey held her even tighter, sobbing into her hair. Sandra leaned on her husband’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. Together, they sobbed as they held their daughter. It was like the three of them were alone—the rest of the Grady family had been forgotten in their grief—and Gwen felt like an intruder watching such an intimate display of raw pain and sorrow.

  Reluctantly, Karen loosened her grip on her own children, and Gwen protested, mewling like a lost kitten. Her mother shushed her gently, giving her hand a tight squeeze. “I’m not going far,” she said. “Someone has to go call the police, Gwen.” She looked to Gabe, and for the first time, Gwen realized the same thing her mother had in that moment. She was looking at a man grown, not a boy any longer. “Gabe, stay with your sister. Keep her comfortable. Can you do that for me?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mom.”

  When Karen got to her feet and dusted off her knees, Gabe immediately took her place, pulling Gwen close and holding her tightly. It was obvious Grant had no interest in helping his children grieve, as he was still clutching the tree he’d nearly destroyed with his bare hands. He was lost in his own world, his grief overwhelming him and leaving him incapable of comforting anyone
else.

  Karen disappeared, running faster than Gwen had ever seen her move. When she was finally gone, Gwen put her head on Gabe’s chest and the tears started again.