Jon looks down and I can see the wall go up as his eyes turn to steel. “Just answer my fucking question—what’s wrong?”
Peter sighs and looks over at me. I nod and clutch my middle tighter as Peter tells them our suspicion, and then the phone call. Jon retains his stern look and pointed focus. “Leave him.”
Peter, Trystan, Mel, and I all speak in unison. “What?”
Jon shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “Sean got himself into this, he can get himself out.”
“Jon,” Peter speaks with that deep voice that almost sounds like a scold.
“Don’t talk to me like that Pete. Sean did this. It’s his mistake and there’s not a fucking chance in Hell that any of you should go pay for it. Masterson is a lunatic. He’ll kill both of you, Avery. If he’s responsible for all those murders—”
I cut him off, “Yeah, if. Jon, he can’t be, Marty’s not like that. He doesn’t fight and he hardly ever loses his temper. It’s weird.”
“How can you say that? You saw the gun in his hand!” Jon’s temper is rising and it feels like I’m poking a pissed off bear while covered in honey. It’s the dumbass thing to do, but something’s wrong and we have to find Sean.
“I saw it, I know, but I can’t believe it.” Jon starts to laugh at me, like I’m too naïve to breathe. Getting in his face, I sternly add, “I can’t believe it just like I don’t believe Sean killed Amanda. The same way I don’t believe for a second that Bryan was a scheming, malicious man. There’s something you don’t know, something that will make you hate me, but I have to tell you—you need to know.”
Peter’s eyes are wide. He holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Avery, don’t!”
“I have to. It’s my fault.” Glancing back at his brother, I confess, “Jon, I gave Bryan the gun. If you’re going to be pissed at someone for everything that happened, I did it, not Sean. Be mad at me.” Regret nearly tears my chest in half. I can’t stand the way they’re all looking at me. I didn’t know that Bryan would do what he did. Being the man he was, Bryan would have done it anyway, gun or not. He loved Hallie too much to leave her to Victor.
Jon’s eyes glow like twin flames, bright blue and deadly. “You gave it to him? You mean, all the shit that’s been following Sean around was laid on my cousin because you gave him the fucking gun!” Jon is screaming, his face red with rage.
Peter jumps between us because Jon is way too close. Trystan is up and tugging Jon back, but this needs to happen. Jon wants to blame someone for his best friend’s death and he needs to blame me. Gently, I put my hand on Peter's shoulder and step around him.
“Avery.” There’s a warning tone in Pete’s voice.
Trystan gives a gentle shake of his head, indicating that I shouldn’t say anything else, but I have to. I never told any of them and guilt is tearing me apart. Besides, directing his anger at Sean is wrong when I’m the one to blame.
My voice is soft. I won’t fight with him. “I can’t let you think that Sean caused this, because he didn’t. If Bryan didn’t have the gun, none of the stuff with Victor would have happened. I spun things into motion. Jon, I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say that Sean didn’t know. He truly didn’t.”
Jon watches me closely, trying to decide if I’m lying. Hallie calls out behind him, she must have been in the office too. “Jon, how do you want this to end?” He turns on his heel and looks back at her. Hallie looks weary but fierce, standing there in jeans and a ratty t-shirt, her thick hair pulled back into a ponytail. “You lost Bryan, but you don’t have to lose Sean too.”
“You really think Masterson has him? If he does, will he kill Sean? Is this even about Sean?” Jon asks, glaring at me with his icy eyes flicking up to meet mine. The room is eerily quiet. They want to know what would turn a lovable guy into a homicidal maniac, but the truth is as unfathomable to me as it is to them.
“I don’t know. Marty’s lied to me before—like huge-ass lies—and I forgave him. Maybe he thinks I’ll forgive this. I don’t know, no one knows what happened that night. They think Marty took the shot, because he had a gun—and then he ran. Running doesn’t mean he did it.” I glance at Mel, who’s been way too quiet. Normally, she would have interrupted and given her opinion by now. “What do you think?”
“I think Marty’s been playing you, Avery. And I seriously doubt that he has Sean. Think about it, even injured, I can’t see Sean Ferro getting kidnapped by Marty. It’s too much of a stretch. A fucking pacifist caught shooting a Ferro at a megastar concert?” She shakes her head, making her huge-ass earrings swing. “Fishy, sister, and not the kind of fishy funk that goes away with some Monistat.”