The Wedding Party

Part 93: A Promise

Sixteen years ago, Helena clutched Preston's worn soccer ball to her chest, her eyes gleaming with determination. "When you come back next summer, I'm going to be better than you," she declared, her voice filled with conviction.

Macey, standing nearby with a fond smile, chided gently, "Helena, remember to play nice."

The sound of an approaching car caught their attention, and they turned to see Preston's family pulling up in their dusty station wagon. Ash, Preston's half-sister, stared out the window, her face a complex mixture of anger, sadness, and longing. As the adults got out of the car, Helena's mother exchanged a lingering gaze with Preston, her eyes filled with a wistful yearning. With a subtle nod between her and Preston's father, the unspoken agreement between them hung heavy in the air.

"Come on!" Preston said, grabbing Helena's hand as he led her through the tall grass towards the nearby dock. Their laughter echoed over the water as they stopped at a rocky area where the waves lapped against the shore. In that moment, Helena leaned close and whispered something into Preston's ear, her breath warm against his skin. He smiled and left the soccer ball in her possession before turning to join his family for their return to Halifax.

---

Preston stood over Olive's lifeless body, her once vibrant eyes now dull and empty. "She was harder to kill than the others," he confessed to Bo Brandt, his voice strained but steady.

Brandt laid a comforting hand on Preston's shoulder, his face a mask of cold calculation. "She served her purpose, Preston. And Miguel... well, he didn't embarrass himself trying to stay alive." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Jairo and Amelia managed to escape, though."

In the distance, Helena's anguished call for Preston and Olive cut through the stillness, her voice raw with worry. Preston clenched his jaw, turning to Brandt. "The coast guard is coming in a few hours," he informed him, his eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty.

As Brandt nodded and turned away, Preston's thoughts raced. What have I become? He wondered, glancing at Olive's body once more before stepping away, his heart heavy with regret.

Jairo and Amelia stepped cautiously into the dimly lit boat house, their breaths coming out in short, quiet puffs. The shadows cast by the flickering lantern danced along the walls, creating a sense of unease that settled heavy in the room. Killian stood with his back to them, shotgun at the ready, prepared to defend himself from any potential attacks.

"Killian, it's us," Jairo called out softly, his voice shaking slightly.

Recognizing their voices, Killian lowered his weapon and turned to face them. His eyes were wide with tension, and a mixture of relief and concern washed over his face. "What happened? Are you both okay?"

"Brandt escaped," Amelia informed him, her voice barely above a whisper. "He must have had help."

"Damn it," Killian muttered under his breath, his gaze narrowing as he considered the implications. "Braeden... I knew we couldn't trust him."

"About Miguel..." Jairo hesitated before continuing, "He fought off Brandt to help us escape. He saved our lives."

Killian clenched his jaw, his eyes darkening with anger and worry for his friend. Gripping the radio, he contacted the coast guard once more. "This is Killian Bruce. Bo Brandt has escaped custody. We need immediate backup on the island." Silence filled the air before the crackling response came through, making Killian's blood boil. "You haven't left yet?!"

In the woods, Helena and Braeden moved quietly through the underbrush, their hearts pounding in their chests as they searched for Preston and Olive. The eerie silence of the forest was only interrupted by the occasional snap of twigs beneath their feet.

"Be quiet, Helena," Braeden warned, his voice tense. "We don't want to draw Brandt out."

As they rounded a bend, Helena's eyes widened in horror at the sight before her. Olive's lifeless body lay crumpled on the ground, a haunting stillness to her that sent shivers down Helena's spine. Tears filled her eyes as she knelt beside her friend, grief threatening to consume her."Olive... No," she choked out, her voice trembling.

From a distance, Brandt and Preston watched with cold detachment. "Now's the time, Preston," Brandt hissed, his stare never leaving Helena. "You need to kill her."

Preston swallowed hard, his resolve wavering for a moment, but he knew what needed to be done. He steeled himself, his heart heavy with the weight of what was about to unfold.