Dreams & Other Lost Things {Sequel to B&TBR}

Chapter 9: The King.

"Who is this?" I already knew who it was. I recognized the face that I had looked at a million times.

"Bea, what are you doing? Are you okay?" Asher asked as he sat down beside me and read the page I was on. A Facebook page of Oliver P. Bullock was displayed, a profile picture of him with a cigarette and a bottle of booze on the screen.

"This is one of the guys," I said. "He was a part of the murder of Michael, Quentin's brother." I let out a long sigh.

"You found them? He told you not to -"

"I had to, Asher. It was eating me alive," I mumbled angrily and avoided eye contact. I pursed my lips and looked closer to the page. Asher didn't understand the guilt I felt. My dad did a bad thing allowing this boy to get away with murder.

"He lives in Washington State. That's three-thousand miles away," Asher deadpanned. I nodded my head and chewed on my bottom lip.

"Is that the only guy?" He asked, scooting closer to me on the bed. He smelled of sweat and deodorant and body spray from the band practice he just got out of. I spent the entire time hunting down this one person.

"Yeah, I just have to find them. If any of them live closer, I'm paying them a visit," I declared as I slammed the laptop shut and tucked it under my arm as I got off the bed, readying myself to leave. Asher shot up off the bed and grabbed my elbow, spinning me into his hard chest.

"You can't just show up at murder's house, Beatrice," he shook his head at me as if there was no way he was letting me out of his sight. At least he thought I was serious, which I was.

"I'll have cops with me, Asher. The whole nine yards," I tried to reason. As serious as I was about finding these, or this, person, I knew it had been too long for anything to be done. I sat the laptop on the floor with my backpack and sat on the chest by Asher's bed.

"I just want to give him comfort," I said sadly. "I'd want comfort."

"I don't think throwing those guys in jail would give him all the comfort he needs, Bea. Sure, it would be a start. But this is reality. Nothing would be done." He held both of my hands between his.

"I know," I sighed loudly and heavily. He stood up and kissed my forehead softly.

I hugged him, and we stayed like that for a while.

That was the day I showed Asher the Facebook page of Oliver Bullock. I wasn't sure how I'd found it, but I did. And I was staring at his picture now.

The only thing was that my brother was also in the picture.

"That's Oliver. He was my best friend," Luke told me quietly.

"Was?" I pointed out.

Luke shook his head, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's a long story." He looked at me for a long moment before giving in. "He passed away a few years ago. Car accident."

"What happened?" I knew what happened, but I wanted to hear it firsthand.

"He came back to Pennsylvania with me the summer we graduated. I was going to see my dad and maybe head towards Ocean City. But one night of partying led to drunk driving. We collided with another car," Luke explained in a quiet, ashamed voice. I felt my heartbeat quicken.

Luke gave me a long, concentrated look as if he was trying to see if I was trustworthy. "Oliver drove us straight into the other car. He thought it'd be a good idea to race and... The other driver died instantly. I haven't seen Oliver since."