Page 66 of Lone Wolf in Lights
“Seeing you sitting in this cage like the animal you are, unable to ever get out,” Eli spat out.
“As if anything I do now changes what happened,” Johnny said. “She’s gone, and she’s never coming back.”
The callousness dripped from his words, thick and venomous. Eli felt the sting, the implication that his sister’s life could be so easily dismissed, her memory reduced to nothingness by this hollow shell of a man.
“Her life mattered,” Eli growled, slamming his hand down. “You took someone precious from this world, from me. You don’t even have the decency to acknowledge that you did something horrific.”
“An apology? Is that what you were looking for when you walked into this place?” Johnny’s eyes, cold and dead, met Eli’s. “You won’t find that here. Regret is a useless emotion, something for the weak.”
“Then you are weaker than any man I’ve ever known,” Eli countered with a cool indifference. “Because it takes strength to feel, to understand the weight of your actions. You’ve got none.”
Johnny simply shrugged.
Eli’s heart pounded, the rhythm syncing with a pulsing desire for retribution. But vengeance wasn’t his to claim—not in the way he wanted. The justice system had seen to that.
“The greatest revenge here is that you are locked away in a cell and this is your pathetic life now,” Eli said, his words deliberate. He’d avoided this meeting, but he knew he couldn’t put that off any longer. His rage only belonged to one person. His anger directedhere,and no longer would he direct it at others. “But Miranda is free. Her memory changes lives for the better, gives to others, and her sweet soul is your burden to carry.”
Eli leaned forward, a barrier between him and the man who had shattered his world. His gaze was unwavering, locked on Johnny’s empty eyes. “You’ll rot in here,” he added. “Forgotten. And every second you’re locked up is a moment you can’t hurt anyone else. That’s all the satisfaction I need.”
Johnny’s lips twitched into a semblance of a smirk, but Eli found his heart unclenching with each breath. He’d carried this anger with him for too long. He’d directed it at Buck because he hadn’t said his piece to the one man who deserved it.
He’d never spoken a victim impact statement. His mother had. But this was his moment to share his truth.
After this day, he’d do what Miranda would want him to do. He’d forget this evil, and he’d live in the light.
Eli stood, his chair scraping back. “You think you won because she’s gone. But you forfeited your life. You have no authority, no choices, no control. Andthatis the ultimate punishment you could receive.” He leaned in, chuckling in Johnny’s face. “Enjoy wasting away in here with your only power being when you take a shit.”
Johnny snarled, the dig hitting the mark.
Eli didn’t look back as he walked away, each step deliberate and sure. The heavy metal doors clanged shut behind him, resonating deep within his bones. Every step he’d take forward would follow Betty’s advice—live for the now. Create the life he wanted, not the one stolen from him.
Live the life Miranda would want for him. The life his mother would hope he’d have.
Stepping out into the night, the cold air embraced him, a sharp contrast to the stifled atmosphere in the jail. Eli wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. As he walked back toward his truck, thoughts of Willow crept into his mind—sweetness, resilience, passion. She, too, had known darkness, yet she emerged not hardened, but more compassionate, her spirit undimmed, seeking to help others. In her, he saw a reflection of what he aspired to be, of what he could be if he let go the rest of what he was holding on to.
Once back in his truck, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and retrieved his phone. His thumb hovered, then pressed with purpose.
“Jaxon,” he said when the call connected, “get Gunner and meet me at my place in an hour.”
Jaxon’s response crackled through the line, “We’ll be there.”
Eli ended the call, slipping the phone back into his pocket, and hit the road. As the distance closed between himself and his house, he felt the weight of the past beginning to lift. He’d never forget what happened. Hecouldn’tforget. The trauma was there, always, but he had to walk past it. Because as much as Willow deserved peace, so did he.
Forty-five minutes later, he drove up his snowy driveway, finding Jaxon and Gunner were already waiting for him.
“Hey,” Jaxon greeted him the moment Eli got out of his truck, welcomed by a frigid breeze.
“Thanks for coming,” Eli said, approaching his porch steps.
Gunner asked, “What’s going on?”
“Let’s get inside,” Eli said, trotting up the stairs. “I need a drink.”
They followed him, and he poured them all a glass of whiskey, before heading to the living room.
“I went to visit Johnny,” he stated, met by a stunned silence.
Jaxon and Eli settled onto the worn-out couch, their combined weight causing the cushions to sink. Gunner took a seat across from them. He recounted his trip to the jail, Betty’s intervention the day before, and everything else that had happened. And he also mentioned Clay’s offer for him to become a coach.
