Chapter 5 - The Youngest’s Secret
The baby of the family. The afterthought. The son Victor had had with his second wife, ten years after the rest of the pack. He’d grown up in the shadow of his older brothers—bullied by them, ignored by his father, treated like a nuisance rather than a Blackwood.
He was also the only one who’d looked scared at the hospital.
The only one whose coffee cup had rattled when Ethan had promised to uncover the truth.
Ethan had known from the beginning that Eli would be the key. The weak link. The one who would break if you pressed him hard enough.
And according to the new files, he was right.
Eli wasn’t like his brothers. He didn’t want the money. He didn’t want the power. He didn’t want to hurt people. He just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to paint. He wanted to go to art school in New York. He wanted to get as far away from the Blackwood name as he possibly could.
And he’d been trying to tell someone the truth for years.
He’d left anonymous tips with the police. He’d sent documents to reporters. He’d even tried to tell the FBI once. But every time, his brothers had found out. Every time, they’d covered it up. Every time, they’d beaten him worse than the last time to teach him a lesson.
He was the one who’d warned Claire.
He was the one who’d slipped her the first set of bank statements, who’d told her where to look, who’d helped her build the case against their own father and brothers.
Because he’d hated them. Hated what they did. Hated what they’d turned him into just by being related to him.
And on the night Claire was attacked… he’d been there.
He’d been in the house. He’d tried to stop them. He’d screamed and begged and thrown himself between his brothers and Claire. But there were six of them. Six big, strong, violent men. They’d thrown him aside like a rag doll. They’d held him down and made him watch. Made him watch while they broke her bones one by one. Made him listen while she screamed his name for help and he couldn’t do anything.
Then they’d threatened to kill him if he ever told a soul.
Ethan found him at the old family ranch outside of town—hiding in the barn, surrounded by half-finished paintings, drinking cheap beer out of a can, looking like he hadn’t slept in a week.
Eli didn’t even try to run when Ethan walked in. He just looked up, his eyes red and swollen, and said, “I’ve been waiting for you. I knew you’d come eventually.”
Ethan closed the barn door behind him. He didn’t reach for his gun. He didn’t make a move to hurt him. He just stood there, looking at the youngest Blackwood, and said, “Tell me what happened that night. Tell me everything. And I swear on my wife’s life, I will make sure you never have to be afraid of them again.”
Eli broke.
He told Ethan everything.
He told him how Victor had found out about Claire’s investigation. How he’d called all the sons together. How he’d said she was a traitor, that she’d betrayed the family, that she had to be punished. How they’d all agreed—all except Eli. How they’d driven to the house together, drunk and angry and high on the power of being Blackwoods.
He told him who had hit her first. (Daniel.)
Who had broken her ribs. (Gideon.)
Who had kicked her in the stomach when they found out she was pregnant, laughing and saying “One less Walker brat to deal with.” (Jonah.)
Who had held her down while the others took turns. (Levi.)
And Victor? Victor had stood in the doorway the whole time. Watching. Smiling. Telling them not to kill her yet. Telling them to leave her alive just long enough so she’d know exactly who had destroyed her.
Eli told him all of it. Sobbing. Shaking. Begging for forgiveness over and over again. Saying he was sorry, so sorry, that he should have died trying to stop them, that he hated himself for being weak, for being a Blackwood.
When he was done, he collapsed onto a bale of hay and buried his face in his hands.
Ethan stood there for a long time, saying nothing. Processing. Letting the truth burn itself into his soul.
He’d known they were evil. He’d known they were monsters. But hearing it described in such detail—hearing exactly what they’d done to the woman he loved, hearing that they’d enjoyed it—was almost more than he could bear.
He wanted to kill them. All of them. Right now. With his bare hands. He wanted to make them suffer every bit as much as Claire had suffered. He wanted to break thirty-one bones in each of them. He wanted to kick them in the stomach until their insides came out.
But he didn’t.
Because that wasn’t what Claire would have wanted.
And because killing them would be too easy. Too quick. They deserved worse than death. They deserved to live. To live with what they’d done. To live in a world where everyone knew exactly who and what they were. To live without their money, their name, their power. To live as the hated, reviled monsters they truly were.
Ethan knelt down in front of Eli and put a hand on his shoulder.
The boy flinched, waiting for the blow.
It never came.
“You’re not one of them,” Ethan said quietly. “I know that. Claire knew that. That’s why she trusted you. That’s why she let you help her.”
Eli looked up, tears streaming down his face. “She did?”
“She did,” Ethan said. “And I’m going to finish what she started. But I need your help. I need you to testify. To tell the police, the FBI, the whole world exactly what you just told me. Can you do that? Can you stand up in court and point your finger at your father and your brothers and tell the truth?”
Eli hesitated. Fear flashed across his face—the fear of a lifetime of beatings and threats and pain.
But then it was gone. Replaced by something else. Something Ethan recognized. Courage. The same quiet, stubborn courage that had made Claire stand up to them in the first place.
Eli nodded.
May you like
“I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll tell them everything. I don’t care what they do to me. I don’t care if they kill me. I just want it to be over. I want them to pay for what they did to Claire. To all those people.”
“Good,” Ethan said. He stood and helped Eli to his feet. “Because tonight, it ends. Tonight, every single Blackwood who hurt my wife is going to lose everything. And you’re going to be the one who drives the final nail into their coffin.”
