Page 88 of Dead Rockstar

“Still, you gave me your word-”

“Gus was basically holding me hostage, Stormy!” Her voice rose; she was almost yelling now.

“Did he hurt you in any way?” I asked, my heart softening a little bit. I could tell she was really upset.

“No,” she said, “Not yet. I worry though, now that you know...”

“He's not going to hurt either of us,” I said firmly. “I'm going to end this shit once and for all.”

“He knows things about you, Stormy,” she said. “Secret things, private things, things that only me and your parents would know. Like, from your childhood. Things about your parents, Storm, things you’ve only ever told me. And some things you’ve never told me. Things about you and Tess. He used me. He'd done all these things to try and, like, reel you in. That vinyl at the flea market, sending Lee to your house. I bet he got Renee to sell you stuff for the spell.” Her voice wavered. “I never even made the connection until you dragged me to the farmers’ market today. I never even paid attention, never noticed that Renee had a booth there. And I've been in the woman's house dozens of times! I've been such a fucking idiot. You must hate me.”

“No,” I said. “I don't hate you.” But I sure as shit don’t trust you anymore, either.

“It was Guthrie who ran us off the road,” she said. “Guthrie and Shank.”

That explained why the person I'd seen in the rearview mirror had kind of looked like Lee. I wasn't surprised. So Lee had been telling the truth when he said he hadn't done it. I smiled in grim relief; a small part of me had hoped he wasn’t capable of real violence.

“After he told me that I realized, really realized, how big this all was. He could have killed us that night. Gus claims you have powers, powers that are like his or something, that the two of you together can...I don't know. I don't know what I believe. But I do believe he's obsessed with you. That he wants something from you. And he's willing to hurt you to get it.”

“Why did he care if I did the spell in the first place?” I wanted to know.

“Why else?” she answered with an obvious shrug. “He wanted to see if you could.”

I wasn't sure what hurt the most. That this man who I'd never even met had involved my ex-husband, my best friend, or that he had hurt Phillip, all to get to me. And why?

“Turn onto Beach Road,” Sloan said, gesturing. “Storm, I know what it looks like, but I swear, I didn't know. Gus can be shady, but I just thought it was the nature of our job, you know? I never considered he was actually, like, a bad guy. He always kept us in the dark, because-”

“What do you mean 'our job'?” I asked.

“That's how it started,” she said miserably. “I met him at Beachy Keen, remember? He asked me if I needed money. I thought he was propositioning me at first, but then later...” She saw my stricken expression and rushed to explain. “I never did anything horrible, I swear, Stormy. I never hurt anyone. I just sold a little reefer for the guy. A pill or two here and there. And after a couple of months I told him I couldn't do it anymore. Just the weed.” She looked ashamed. “I was just so broke.”

“But you were seeing him, too.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “There's something about him. I fell for it. I'm not proud, Stormy. But every time I tried to get out, every time I'd meet somebody new, somebody nice, it was almost like he – he sabotaged it. Every time. Like he had some kind of power over me, he could make everything just crumble in my hands. It’s gotten to where I just don't even want to try anymore.”

“I get it.” I sighed. And I did. “But Sloan, it was goddamn shitty of you not to warn me about all of this. You couldn't have sent one text?”

“He threatened me,” she said, her voice giving way to tears. “The things he said he'd do to you – to Phillip – to Dan – I couldn't risk it, Stormy.”

“Is that why you dumped Dan?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “I had to protect him.”

Rage burned inside me. It was one thing to mess with me. Another thing still to mess with the man I loved. But to find out the extent he'd manipulated and threatened my best friend? I would tear him limb from limb.

“Take the next right, Franklin Road,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. She really did look miserable. “And it's number 5099, on the left. Big blue house with white shutters. Five minutes, tops.”

“That's right across from Driftwood Beach,” I exclaimed. “Less than a mile from the trail I always take, near the dunes.”

She stared at her lap, her face full of guilt.

Realization hit me with a jolt. “The man,” I said, more to myself than Sloan. The memories came back to me in a flood. Out on the beach. The day of the storm. He'd been standing right there when that massive thunderclap hit, then the hail, then the bolt of lightning, striking a foot away from me, such a force of pure electricity that it had split the dead tree in half and thrown me into the sand. I had felt the force of it in my fingers, the current jolting through my hands like scalding-hot water, like a child touching an electric fence. Guthrie had been there, off in the distance. Standing, watching. Had he made it happen?

I knew, suddenly, without a doubt, that he had.

Sloan’s voice was quiet in the dark car. “I'm sorry I didn't believe you, Stormy. About Phillip.”

“Oh, that's okay,” I said. “Who the fuck would have?”

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