The Darkest Secrets

by Heather Wynter

  Would he force me to do this? I never thought he’d be this kind of monster, but now I worried.

  “What about your wife?” I asked.

  “She’s not here, is she? And she already knows there’s something between us. She saw it from the first time I mentioned your name. She knew this day would come. She’s not going to stand in the way of a true connection. She values other things over loyalty.”

  I couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. That’s why she didn’t like me. Maybe she did know. But why would she stay with him if she knew what a slimeball he was? How could I get out of this mess?

  “No.” I pushed him away. “I’m sorry, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But you’re my mentor, you’re someone I look up to. A great friend. There’s nothing romantic.”

  He let me take a few steps away from him.

  “Do you love your career?” he asked. I turned. Didn’t have to answer. “Because I helped build it and I can destroy it. You know the connections I have. I can smear your name, ensure you won’t get any more fabulous gigs. Your record label will drop you so fast. Darling, you know what it’s like to be at the bottom, but you have no idea how difficult it is to resuscitate a career after I’m done with it. So, I’d think twice before you tell me no. I can deliver your greatest fantasy, but I can also bring about your darkest nightmare.”

  He smiled. A sick, twisted smile. How did I never see how manipulative he was before? Certainly, this mask of a villain hadn’t come out around me before, had it?

  “I guess I’m just magic like that,” he said.

  At this point, the spell was broken. I saw everything clearly. Saw what was at stake. So, I made the hardest decision of my life so far.

  I slept with him.

  And I still feel gross about it, three showers later. I worry that it won’t be the end. That he’ll always have something to hold over my head. So now, I’ll have this. Evidence of everything that happens from here on out. Or at least my story written through each detail. I hope one day I’ll be in the place where I have the strength to share it.

  July 14th, 1985

  The last diary entry I wrote discussed my fears because I missed a period. This was a couple of weeks ago and I finally got up the nerve to go to the doctors and get an ultrasound.

  I’ve documented my affair with Brett for three years now. Each horrible moment, each confusing feeling. Even that terrible encounter with Melinda. But this by far is the worst news. We’ve been playing with fire for too long and now…

  I’m pregnant with twins, and Brett’s the father.

  I know this because I broke up with Jake a few months ago because, though I loved him, I knew it was unfair for me to keep him anchored to me when my career wouldn’t allow me to be faithful. I haven’t slept with anyone but Brett since then. And I couldn’t be more disgusted in myself that I’m carrying his children.

  There are so many questions that I don’t know where to start. What will happen with the children? Will Brett be a good father? Will I be a good mother? How will Melinda react? How will I get through this?

  I love them already, so I’ll find a way. But first I think I’ll spend a little time being sad today.

  December 20th, 1985

  Amelia and Emma were born at 11:32 last night. My daughters of the night, they came into my world like little stars. They’re the most beautiful, precious babies. I loved them both before they were born, and I’ve been so excited to meet them. Seeing them, holding them for the first time…it was everything to me. I’ve ripped apart my heart and given each of them a half of it.

  I might never see that other half again.

  Amelia and Emma are the only good things that ever came out of my affair with Brett, but they’re also my greatest mistake. My biggest regret. This is because I must give one away. Tomorrow I say goodbye to Emma and hand her over to Melinda, who will now be her mother.

  I sob as I write this. I’m filled with joy and the greatest sorrow all contained in a body that isn’t big enough for it. I’m not a horrible mother. This isn’t at all what I would’ve chosen. I love both of my daughters and it kills me to think of when I’ll have to give up Emma. I’d give everything I have just to keep them both with me forever.

  But it’s not up to me. Once again, it’s up to him.

  I haven’t written in this diary for a couple of months now. Not since the final decision was made. I think I felt that if I wrote it down, it’d be real. I couldn’t allow this to be real. But it’s happening, and I need someone besides just the three of us to know.

  As I’ve already written, when Melinda found out, she freaked out. Brett tried to calm her down, but she threatened me, threatened him, threatened the children. For weeks I didn’t hear from him and it was incredible. I thought I finally rid myself of him and I have more than enough money to be a well-off single mother. I was relieved. Until they both showed up at my house.

  Brett didn’t want anyone to know about our affair. He said it would ruin both of our names, and I swear to you that I don’t care about that anymore. I’d give up every second of my career for my children, every bit of money. And I told him that. I told him that I’d take both children and he didn’t have to have anything to do with them. I would raise them, support them. It could be like we never existed in his world.

  He refused to agree to that. Instead, he said, to save us both the trouble, that we should split up the children. There were two of them. He could take one, I’d take the other. Just like they were property. Another possession that could be split with someone fifty-fifty. Seemed simple enough.

  Melinda looked happiest about all of this. Ecstatic to have a child. Brett told me she couldn’t carry children of her own. I could already see her plans for my daughter in her eyes and it infuriated me.

  I couldn’t believe it. Once I got over the disbelief, I refused. I told him he couldn’t take either of my daughters. If he wanted to be part of their lives, then we could work out visitation. But they were mine. I already loved them. I told him I didn’t care about what it would do to our careers.

  He sat back. Studied me with a smirk on his face while his wife sat beside him, fuming.

  “You know,” he said. “If you don’t agree to this, you’ll lose both of them.”

  “Excuse me?” I hissed.

  “You heard me. I’ve brought you far, but I still sit much higher above you. I can hire the best attorneys, I can drag your name through the mud. I have my claws in all sorts of places. I can make it so you lose both children, so you never see either of them again.” He turned to his wife and they shared a smile. “I’m sure you’d like to raise twins, wouldn’t you dear?”

  “Of course! I’ve always wanted twins.”

  And I saw it, too. The desire in her eyes. She wanted to be a mom more than anything. She’d snatch my girls. Neither of them could look beyond their own selfish desires.

  There was a point in time when I felt sorry for Melinda. Now, I never will. She’s just as bad as him. They backed me into a wall, and I didn’t know how much of what he said was true, but I knew enough to know there was a very real chance that he could have both of my children taken from me. That in the end, if I fought, I would lose both girls forever.

  So, God forgive me, I agreed. Now my little Amelia is a bit neglected as I hold Emma, coo over her, rock her every hour. She never leaves my sight. And I’m hoping if I dote on her enough, echoes of my love will follow her throughout her life.

  I love her, oh, how I love her. I adore them both. There’s no way I could possibly give them up now. But they’re coming tomorrow to take her. Forever.

  If you ever read this, Emma, I hope you’ve had a wonderful life. I love you forever and always. And I never wanted any of this to happen. You’ll always be my daughter.

  December 28th, 1989

  I just returned from seeing my sweet Emma and Brett. About a week ago, she and Amelia turned four and I gave Amelia the biggest birthday bash. She had every presen
t she could’ve wanted, the most beautiful cake, and we spent the whole day together just the two of us the day before.

  Yet Emma was on my mind, just like Amelia is on my mind when I’m with Emma. The two look more like regular sisters than twins, but I can’t seem to see one without thinking of the other. I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m still seeing Brett.

  Is it? I don’t know. I think I’ve grown to care for him over the years. My feelings toward him are complicated. He’s my mentor, my love, my betrayer. I hate him and love him at the same time. Maybe I don’t know what love is.

  No, that’s not true. I love my daughters. And I love the new child growing within me. Not Brett’s, never again. Yet things have still become twisted in a new way.

  I haven’t had much time for writing this month, with the twins’ birthday and Christmas coming up. So, I’ll catch you up.

  Since their birthday, I’ve been receiving little packages and letters in the mail. These things contain some disturbing information, to say the least. Pictures that are attributed to Brett. Articles of random people being murdered. A drug bust. Evidence that perhaps he paid people off. Proof that I’m not the only affair. Not like I ever thought I was.

  I brought all this up to Brett’s attention when we met. He said it was nothing, that he’ll take care of it. Yet I worry he’s hiding something. That his secrets will affect our daughters. Will affect the child I’m due to deliver sometime in February.

  I don’t think he’s involved in all of this, but what if he is? What if someone’s after him and they turn their attention to our children?

  Yet, with him is the only way I ever see Emma. She doesn’t know me as her mother, just as one of her father’s friends. Just like, though Amelia has met Brett, she doesn’t know he’s her father. And it hurts, perhaps even worse than staying away does. It kills me when she talks of Melinda and calls her Mom.

  But I can’t let go now. Of him. Of her. So, I pray for the best and hope that someday I’ll start making good choices.

  August 6th, 1992

  The last few weeks have been the worst weeks of my entire life. I shake now as I write this, even though my daughters are safe in their homes and have been for days now.

  Amelia and Emma were kidnapped.

  And it was my fault. I’ve been spending so much time taking care of Cameron lately that I haven’t kept a close enough eye on Amelia, and I know she blames me for that. Still so young, yet I see the anger in her eyes, and it deserves to be there. I made the second worst mistake of my life. The first, of course, was not taking Emma and Amelia the second they were born and running far away from Brett and his cruel wife.

  I thought we’d never get them back. That was the worst of it. We posted fliers everywhere, spent forever talking to the police. I was even seen as a suspect! As were Brett and Melinda.

  Brett assured me that he would get to the bottom of this and I didn’t trust him, but thank God he did. He used all his money and resources to track the girls down. Both were frightened out of their minds when they were found, but they were safe. I kept Amelia close to me for days after. She cried, had nightmares. I’ve gotten her into therapy. Yet the shocking truth didn’t reach me until today.

  Melinda is the one who orchestrated the girls being abducted.

  Brett wasn’t going to tell me at first, but I insisted. I told him I’d keep working with the police, so he finally admitted it was Melinda.

  She took them in anger to get back at Brett. For his continuing relationship with me. I guess she thought if she could scare him, then he’d stay home. But along the way she realized that she truly just wanted both girls, not him. She knew about my visits with Emma, she worried I’d take her. I think she worried about me taking Emma more than she ever worried about me stealing her husband.

  So, she kept them in cages, like animals. She planned to rescue them, to look like a savior in their eyes. She planned to take them away to another country. She already had passports made out for them. She was going to tell them that Brett and I had died.

  I don’t even want to know if that would’ve been a lie or not.

  Brett says that it will never happen again. That he’ll get Melinda under control, that he can keep us safe. But now I know he can’t. And I know that if I go to the police about Melinda, he could turn this on me. I could lose both daughters and my son, who is so sick. He needs me. Amelia needs me.

  Once again, I’m forced to make the worst decision. My heart breaks all over again thinking about it, but I suppose I should’ve always known this couldn’t last forever. I must do what’s best for all three of my children.

  I’ve decided to stop seeing Brett. Stop seeing Emma, too.

  I think, I hope, that Melinda will be a good mother to her. From all I’ve heard, she has been. Aside from the kidnapping.

  But maybe she’ll feel more secure without me in the picture. She can focus on raising Emma, I can focus on Amelia, and she can have her husband. I don’t want him. And maybe now if anyone else has something against Brett, they won’t turn to my daughters to use as a threat against him.

  I only worry about Emma. I wish with all my heart that she could be here with us. Grow up with her sister and brother. I know I couldn’t provide as lavish a life as the one she has now, but I would love that child. Her siblings would love her. I would give her everything I could. We could be a happy family.

  It’s too late for that now, though. I have to say goodbye, do what’s best for her. And hopefully this horrible chapter will come to an end. This will be the last page I ever write of Brett’s presence in my life.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Amelia flipped through the remaining pages, but Emily was serious about her last sentence. That was the last page she ever wrote in this diary. But, of course, Amelia knew that it wasn’t the end of Brett’s presence in her life, and that only made her more frustrated.

  She wanted to cry, scream, punch someone, hug someone. It was all too overwhelming, receiving all this information all at once. It was too much for anyone to process. She gathered her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and cried.

  Her whole life as she knew it had gained a completely different context, and her heart broke for her mother, Emma, and for herself. She allowed herself to be swept away with shock and emotion for as long as needed.

  Then, slowly, her senses returned to her. She’d been up here for a while and her legs were numb, she was thirsty, and starving, and she really had to use the bathroom.

  She took the diary and brought it downstairs with her. About twenty minutes later, she glared at it as she sat on the couch eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate. Her blanket kept her warm, but a chill lingered in her bones.

  As she processed it, it made sense. Why her mother left her the flash drive. Why she didn’t go to the police about it herself. Why Amelia was kidnapped. How they were able to afford a comfortable lifestyle while sinking tons of money into her brother’s treatment?

  As the pieces clicked into place, a new horror touched her mind. Her mother hadn’t been feeling well for weeks leading up to her death, but the doctors never could find out why. She wasn’t that old, either, only fifty-six when she passed. Amelia hadn’t requested an autopsy be done. She couldn’t deal with it then. Now, she regretted it.

  What if Brett had killed her mother? It seemed he had been responsible for deaths in the past. What if he found out about the diary? The flash drive? What if he killed her and was now on a killing spree to clean up loose ends? To protect himself from anyone who might hold something over him?

  Based on the information on the flash drive, if this was true, they could expect a lot more deaths in the future. Fear snuck in under Amelia’s blanket. If that was true, he might even come after her.

  She did remember him slightly growing up. Blurry images of memories. The trauma of the kidnapping had done a number on her childhood memories, but she didn’t think he’d played that big of a part in her life anyway.
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br />   Either way, she had no way to gauge how he felt about her, how much he might care to protect her. Based off everything she knew about him, though…she had good reason to fear for her life.

  And Emma? Amelia began to wonder how much Emma knew about all of this. Did she know they were sisters? Did she know about her father? Was that why she was hiding something? Was she trying to protect him? What did she think about Amelia?

  Amelia had felt a strange bond between them before, but she always just chalked it up to having been kidnapped together. Was there something more though? Was there a connection between twins? Did Emma feel it, too? What would she think about all of this?

  Amelia wanted to drive right over to Emma’s house, talk about everything, and bond the way twins should. She’d love to have a sister, to go through everything together. But then she remembered how angry Emma was the last time she went over. And what if she didn’t know? Amelia didn’t want to be the one to break that to her.

  She munched on another cookie, getting to the bottom of her hot chocolate. She wanted to be enough for herself, but she needed someone to talk to about all of this. It was insane, far too much for one person to handle.

  Trent. She decided she should go talk to Trent. She’d known him forever and he was also working on this case. He would be the best person to help her sort through this. Help her nail Brett.

  She thought of Gabe, though, of the fact that he was likely working for Brett, and she wasn’t sure if she trusted Trent anymore. She wasn’t sure if she trusted any investigator. Everett had warned her not to tell anyone about what they were looking into until it was time, until she was sure of who she could trust. It seemed everyone had their secrets.

  But what about Brenda? Brenda wouldn’t have reason to be involved in this, and she trusted Brenda more than anyone else. Amelia finished off her cocoa and resolved to talk to Brenda about it tomorrow night. They already planned to meet for drinks anyway. She could discuss it with her then.