Jack had tried to protect his mom and sister as much as he could from Ian and his brothers, who all seemed to be Ian replicas. But it was difficult to protect Rebecca from Ian because he hated her. Their father put up a front since appearances were so important to him, but he’d sell Rebecca down the river in a heartbeat if it came to it.
No need now, though, Jack thought, as he hurried up the steps to the front entrance of the sheriff’s building.
Rebecca had done it herself.
Why?
After everything they’d both sacrificed for this lie … why now?
Striding into the building, Jack zeroed in on the reception desk where Rebecca was waiting with the new detective in town—Dahlia McGuire’s man, Michael Sullivan. As soon as his sister saw him, she burst into tears and ran for him. Jack caught her slight figure as she burrowed into him, as if she couldn’t get close enough. He squeezed his eyes closed as he felt how frail she was in his arms.
As she sobbed, Jack tightened his hold on her, wishing all that pain would just leak out of her and into him. When he opened his eyes, Detective Sullivan was standing in front of him, his expression carefully neutral.
“Jack Devlin?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m Rebecca’s brother.”
“I’m Detective Michael Sullivan with the Criminal Investigation Department.”
“I know who you are, Detective.”
Sullivan nodded, his gaze dropping to Rebecca and then moving swiftly back to meet Jack’s. “Your sister is free to go.”
Confusion suffused Jack. “You aren’t charging her?”
“A team is right at this moment looking for the body and the murder weapon. If we find those, we will charge Rebecca with aiding and abetting.”
“Aiding and abetting? I don’t—”
“Jack.” His sister lifted her head, her eyes red and wet with tears. “I … let’s go somewhere so I can explain.”
Hearing the plea in her words, Jack gave her a tight nod.
Jack couldn’t wait to get back to his place in South Hartwell. It was a nice house that Ian had insisted he move into after he “suggested” he sell his home in North Hartwell. Jack didn’t sell but instead rented it out. It was as if he had some futile hope he’d get to return to it one day. Maybe even return to the man he used to be.
Pulling the car onto the side of the road, Jack switched off the engine and turned to his sister. “What is going on? What were you thinking?” It took everything within him not to rage at her.
Her blue-gray eyes, just like his, just like their mom’s, brimmed with tears again. “Jack, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that this has taken so much from you … and I’m sorry you didn’t know the truth. But Ian and Stu threatened me …”
A strange foreboding came over him. “What do you mean, the truth?”
Rebecca swallowed. Hard. “I didn’t kill Caruthers.”
Jack gaped at her, aghast. Colin Caruthers was the guy Rebecca had thought was just a tourist. He wasn’t. He was wanted in four counties for several rapes. Ian discovered that after the fact, obviously.
Her mouth trembled. “Jack … he didn’t try to rape me. He was raping me.”
Rage and grief exploded through Jack as he watched the tears slip silently down his sister’s cheeks.
No.
Fuck.
No.
Sick to his stomach, he shook his head as the guilt overwhelmed every other feeling. He should have been there. He should have protected her. “I’m sorry,” he choked out.
“Stu came into the pool house. He said he’d been having a smoke by the pool and he heard me cry out for help. The next thing I knew, Caruthers had been pulled off me and Stu hit him repeatedly over the head with one of the dumbbells.”
“Jesus fuck.” Jack shook his head, trying to make sense of this new truth.
“He didn’t mean to kill him.” Her expression was so sad. “Jack, he was as shaken up as me. He’d just … he was trying to protect me.” Fresh tears fell from her eyes. “He didn’t know what to do. He was so scared. So he called Ian. And he took care of everything. He blamed it on me. Said I was a stupid whore for bringing Caruthers back to the house.”
“He said what?”
“I … I was stupid, Jack. Looking for love in all the wrong places. But I never meant … I just thought we’d hang out.”
“You were only seventeen. Of course that’s what you thought! Do not blame yourself. Do you hear me?”
She nodded. “Stu was angry at Ian for saying that. He assured me he didn’t blame me.”
Disbelief moved through Jack.
Rebecca continued, “But Ian used it against us all, didn’t he? Even Stu. He held it over him. Made him do things … like break into Bailey’s inn.”
“How do you know that?”
“He told me. You know he called me every month to see how I was doing.”
“That doesn’t excuse him punching her.”
“I know. Stu knew that. Jack, he was so angry. He didn’t know how to control it. So he got high whenever it got too much. He was high that night he broke into the Bailey’s. But more than that, he had too much of Ian in him. He knew that too. He just let the anger turn him into his father. I …I think I was the only person he was ever truly himself with.”
Jack’s chest tightened with too much emotion. He struggled to draw breath. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t he tell me? I could have helped you both.”
“You couldn’t. We both knew that. If I told the truth, Ian would manipulate it so that you went down for it. And Stu knew you wouldn’t care about protecting him, but you would care about protecting me, so he suggested we lie about what happened. He knew Ian would figure out a way to take you down for it. Planting fingerprints on the weapon. Whatever it took.”
“But Stu was … we were constantly at each other’s throats. Why didn’t he talk to me?”
“He loved us in his own way. That’s all you need to know. Everything else will just make you crazy with what-ifs. He’d want us to both be free now, Jack. And even if I have to do time for aiding and abetting, it doesn’t matter. We’ve been in a version of prison for almost five years. I … I’ve been … there were some days I … I didn’t even want to be here anymore.”
Horror suffused him. “Becca—”
“This is the only way I know how to live with it. Caruthers was an evil bastard … but I can’t live with the secret anymore and what it’s taken from you. I feel lighter than I have in years.” She offered him a sad smile. “And you … you’re free of all this now. You can leave Ian behind. Finally.”
“You know Ian won’t take this lying down.”
“Yeah.” She smirked. “So, you’re telling me you haven’t been keeping tabs on every dirty thing he’s ever done?”
It surprised him he could laugh in that moment. His sister knew him too well.
“You have evidence, don’t you?”
Jack’s laughter faded into a smile. “And if I have?”
“Then I would suggest handing that evidence over to our friendly local detective. You can offer your cooperation in exchange for immunity.”
The idea of being free didn’t seem real. The possibility of seeing Ian brought down for all the shitty things he’d done to their family and this community over the years seemed like a dream. And there was only one thing standing in Jack’s way.
“We do that, and it’s not just Ian who goes down. Kerr goes down too. And what about Mom and Jamie?” Jamie, their youngest brother, was a freshman in college. Despite Ian’s attempts to beat him down, he was proving to be more like Jack and Rebecca. In other words, he’d gotten a lot of Rosalie’s genes.
“Kerr is just as bad as Ian. I couldn’t care less if he goes down with our father. As for Mom and Jamie, we can protect them.”
“And you?” He was heartsore from all that Rebecca had endured. “Who protects you?”
“I made a mistake,” she whispered. “Over four years ago, I made a te
rrible mistake and trusted the wrong person. It happened, Jack, and I’ve tried to get over it and move on, but I couldn’t live with the lie. Now, for the first time, I feel hope. I feel hope that I can finally let go of the past.”
Jack unclipped his seat belt and did the same to Rebecca’s so he could pull her into his arms. “I’m so sorry.” His voice was hoarse as he tucked her head against his shoulder. Her fingers curled tightly into his suit jacket, pulling on the material as she shook. “I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you.”
“You thought you were.” She pulled him closer. “Jack, you thought you were protecting me. But it’s over. He can’t hold this over us anymore. You can get your life back. You can tell Cooper everything.”
Jack squeezed his eyes closed at the thought of his best friend.
Even if he told Cooper the truth, Jack doubted he’d ever forgive him for what had happened with Dana.
“You might finally settle down,” Rebecca teased, pulling back to give him a sad smile. “Instead of breaking the hearts of all the eligible Hartwell females.”
Jack was about to roll his eyes when her words sunk in.
If they could do what Rebecca thought they could—if they could take Ian down for good, Jack could have the one thing he’d wanted since he was twenty-eight years old.
It wouldn’t be easy.
He’d burned that bridge a few times, and this morning was only proof of it.
But his sister’s words played over in his head. Now, for the first time, I feel hope.
Hope.
Was that what was making his heart race and his fingers tremble?
The possibilities lifted something from his shoulders that had been weighing him down for years.
His hands still shook as he cupped his sister’s face. “Thank you. Do you know how brave you are, Becs? Do you know how goddamn proud of you I am?”
Even though tears still shone in her eyes, she nodded. “That means a lot, Jack.”
“I’m going to suggest something, and you will not bite my head off.”
“Okay …”
“I want you to talk someone.”
“A therapist?”
He nodded as he brushed his thumb across her temple. “A lot of horrible things running around in this head, sweetheart. It needs to come out.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“That’s all I can ask. Second thing: you’re staying with me. I have a tenant in the house in North Hartwell, but I thought I could give them notice and we’ll move in there and move Mom into my place in South. Jamie, too, while college is out for the summer.”
“Do you think they’ll go for that?”
Jack knew his mom was intimidated by her husband. But he also knew she put up with most of his shit for the sake of her children. Stu’s death had broken Rosalie. Knowing her husband was inadvertently responsible for her eldest son’s murder … Rosalie had grown implacably cold with Ian, and none of his blustering made a difference.
And he knew to never lift a hand to her again. Last time he’d hit Rosalie had been when Jack was twenty-two, and he’d knocked his father on his ass. Now that he thought about it, only Kerr had stood at his father’s defense that night. Stu had sat back and watched the whole thing.
Jack had thought it was because he didn’t care.
But maybe he’d enjoyed watching Jack take their father down.
His head spun as he began to see the past through fresh eyes.
One thing was for sure—it would be much easier to convince his mom to leave Ian now than it would’ve been a year ago. “I think Mom’s been waiting for this chance for a long time.”
16
Emery
“The donations are finalized,” Hague announced without a hello. The call from Hague as I closed the shop for the day was a welcome distraction.
I worried about Jack and Rebecca. News traveled fast in Hartwell, so no doubt I’d hear something soon, but the not knowing was infuriating. And I hated that I still cared so much about what happened to Jack Devlin.
This news from Hague lifted my spirits as I walked along the boards toward home. “That’s wonderful.”
“And it was all anonymous, just as you wanted.”
“Excellent.”
“As for what’s left, I have some papers for you to look over and sign. I want to make sure you’re happy with the stock options I’ve selected on your behalf. The money you’re not investing has, as discussed, been split between several high-interest savings accounts, and we’ll move those around depending on changing interest rates. Of course, we’ll keep you apprised of any moves. And you still have all your grandmother’s real estate investments in place. On that note, the estate is officially for sale.”
“Thank you, Hague. I mean it. Really. I couldn’t have done this without you.” I let myself into the beach house, feeling at least one weight lift off my shoulders.
For years, I’d held on to my family’s estate and continued as the major shareholder in the Paxton Group. However, I disliked that house, and I loathed that company. I hated what it had taken from me before I was even born. And while I didn’t claim to be a climate change crusader, I wasn’t comfortable being so directly complicit in air pollution.
The only reason I’d hung on to the estate and the company was because I’d promised my grandmother I would. But the weight of both had plagued me for years. It wasn’t until I heard Jessica’s and Dahlia’s stories that I had an epiphany.
A few months ago, before Dahlia was shot trying to protect Ivy, she’d been reluctant to let Michael back into her life because of the guilt she carried over her sister’s death. While Dillon’s death hadn’t been her fault, Michael was once in a relationship with Dillon, and that’s really where Dahlia’s guilt stemmed from.
To help her, Jessica had revealed her own past to us. Discovering what trauma Jess had been through, and how she’d thrown off the shackles of the past, had been enlightening. Jess was strong—she hadn’t allowed her past to define her.
As much as my grandmother had been the only family to care for me, she’d also done her damage, to me and to others through me. The Paxton Group wasn’t the legacy I wanted for myself. And I realized that I didn’t owe my grandmother my future.
So, I had Hague begin the process of selling my shares. Most of the buyers were among current shareholders looking to increase their stake in the company. That I sold my holdings at cost made them go fast.
They were worth the kind of money most people could only imagine in their dreams.
I divided the bulk of it among my favorite charities. Mostly animal, children’s, and women’s charities. However, I also donated a phenomenal amount to a clean-air initiative. Talk about alleviating some guilt.
Hague insisted I keep enough for myself as a substantial security blanket, and I saw the wisdom in that.
But I was no longer a billionaire.
And it was wonderful.
People would probably think I was crazy. However, there was a difference between being a millionaire and being a billionaire. As a billionaire, I had to hide. Hartwell started out as somewhere to hide. Yes, now it was my home, but people knew me under a false name and identity. As a billionaire, it was hard to know who you could trust. It was hard to know if someone loved you or was just using you to get to your money, to siphon the power that comes from having so much.
It was exhausting.
It was lonely.
And I knew it was the major reason I didn’t actively pursue a romantic relationship.
“Do you need me to come to the city to sign those?” I asked, picking up my mail from the floor as I wandered through the open space to my kitchen.
“No, I’ll have them couriered over. If you have any questions, call me and we’ll go over them.”
“Great. Thank you, Hague.”
“You’re welcome, Emery. I hope this decision has brought you some peace of mind.”
“It has.” I was no longer shackled to that life.
Truly. Anonymous. No longer of interest to the world.
“Good. We’ll speak soon.”
We hung up, and a slight smile played on my lips.
I was finally free.
I’d been out on the porch, enjoying a mug of tea, when I heard the banging of the door over the sound of the waves.
So lost in thought about my new future, I startled badly and spilled hot tea on my lap.
Cursing under my breath, I moved into the house to the front door.
“Emery, you home?” Jack’s deep voice sounded through the screen.
Part of me was relieved to hear his voice; another part was wary of him coming to me now. The part that worried about him won out, and I hurried to unlock the door.
Jack’s eyes narrowed as soon as he saw me. “You okay? You took awhile to answer.”
“I was out on the porch. I didn’t hear you over the waves. Are you okay?”
He braced his hands on either side of my doorjamb. “Can I come in?”
On the one hand, I wanted to know how Rebecca was. On the other, I’d promised myself I’d never let him into my house again.
Sensing my indecision, Jack lowered his voice to a level of seduction that was completely unfair. “Please.”
Just like that, I cursed my inability to deny him. I nodded, stepping back to let him in. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he strode into the room. “You sure you’re okay? You seem … I don’t know. There’s something different about you.”
It unnerved me that he seemed to know me so well. I closed the door, giving him my back. “What’s going on, Jack?”
When I turned around, his eyes narrowed again. “Em, what’s going on with you?”
I strode by him. “I spilled hot tea on my leg just as you knocked.” I pointed to my lap. Seeing the continued suspicion in his eyes, I pointed to the sectional. I didn’t want to discuss my news with him. I wanted his news, and then I wanted him gone. “Have a seat.”
He seemed relieved by the invitation and sprawled his long body across my sofa. I tried to ignore how masculine he seemed on my comfy sectional. I lowered onto the opposite end, as far from him as I could get.
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