by Nicole Snow
Thankfully, I didn't.
“You should both take a look at this, and tell me what you see.” I slide the phone across as soon as I pull it up.
Mom's eyes go huge and dark when she sees the screen.
Showing my own family the disgusting pictures of my ex in those compromising positions with his little mistress is the last thing I want. But it's the last, best option that might make them believe there's more to this than they think.
“Is that...Jesus.” She can't even say the name. She's looking at Amy, the double crossing bitch of a wedding planner, strapped to the chair half-naked. She flips forward. When she sees King Asshole, Reg himself, she gasps, dropping the phone against the table's surface with a clatter.
Matt doesn't wait for her to pass the phone. He reaches out, snatches it, and eyeballs everything. Hatred, then confusion, fills his eyes.
“No fucking way,” he whispers, turning it over and slamming it down a moment later. “Where did these come from?”
“Ryan. He caught them cheating himself, at a hotel in Marquette. I wasn't sure either, until I saw the pictures.” I give Matt a sharp look. “These aren't staged. Yes, he burst in and roughed them up a little. Reg deserved it after everything he did to me. I don't feel bad for him, and I never will. Now that you've seen the truth...are you still going to call me crazy? Pretend I'm just 'brainwashed' by a man I'll never get over?”
Matt hardens his look, and swallows something heavy in his throat. “Sis, you and Reg have got serious problems, and it's not all bullshit. I'll give you that. Still doesn't let him off the hook for everything else.”
“No, it doesn't. And he explained to me exactly what happened that night.” Their eyes glue to me, waiting for my story. “He didn't kill Nelson Drayton. Not by himself, anyway...”
I spend the next ten minutes recounting Ryan's story as best I can. It probably doesn't have the emotional impact, or all the details, because I feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle.
I hate having to face them like this, explain how daddy forced himself into something so heinous because he had no choice. He thought he was protecting me, protecting us, even protecting Ryan.
Ryan didn't have a choice either. That's the point I keep trying to make, when I tell them how Nelson backed him into a corner, demanded he turn over those disgusting pictures he found, threatened to bring down our family.
“You know that happened anyway,” Matt says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You've bought into a sick goddamned joke, Kara. He'll say anything to have you back, make you think he's really on your side. Dad told me he burned a bunch of rough nudie magazines he found shortly after stumbling over Nelson's body. Said he thought Ryan left them out, and Nelson stumbled across them. Probably threatened his job since the man was a total prude. Dad threw the evidence on the fire because he didn't want the police coming after the other employees, thinking they had a beef with the old man.”
“Jesus, Matt, can't you see he lied?” Tears come hot and merciless when I say it, slapping my hands against the table. There's no worse truth than knowing what a liar daddy was. “He lied to us all. And he didn't have a choice, not when he knew better than anybody how much the Draytons own this town. He didn't burn any magazines. You're insane if you think Ryan killed a man over finding his porn stash. Ryan found Nelson's dirt, and there's no way on earth that man was any kind of prude. Drayton wanted to hide it. They're good at that, burying their secrets, and then threatening anyone who gets in their way.”
I'm still fuming over Reg kicking me straight in the ass one more time. The look he gave me as my family dragged me away, smug and self-assured...it was gotcha personified. He fed them a story about how he loved me, wanted to bring me back to my senses, knowing they'd find out the truth.
He used them, abused their trust, thinking he'd just walk away quietly after his humiliation.
Matt shakes his head again, grumbling to himself. “Look, sis, you convinced me on Reg because you've got evidence. Ryan...that's another story. Unless you've got something proving what you said, it's your word against dad's.”
My brother looks at me, hurt swelling in his expression. “Dad wasn't in love with the fuck who left you out in the cold for half a decade. He saw Ryan as he really was, the orphan kid, knew he had problems none of us saw before they hit us in the face. You aren't telling me anything different, unless you're going to magically dig up whatever got burned in the fire pit.”
Sighing, I pick up my phone. I flip through my gallery again, and come to the snapshot I took of the rumpled page Ryan showed me last week, the one with the names and contacts.
“There's a man on there, Edgar Wollenshem. Look him up. You'll find out he's already doing time for getting busted in the sex trade. The others, I don't know, but I believe they're traceable. Ryan certainly did. He's been waiting years to go after them, whatever it takes to clear his name, and bring the Draytons down.”
Matt's face twitches. He averts his eyes, looking away from the image I'm pushing in his face. “Wishful thinking, Kara. He could've done the research and typed this list up himself. Doesn't prove a damned thing. Hell, I've been in rooms with men overseas who've always got the best excuses in the world for killing our troops, plus men, women, and children in cold blood. They're never responsible for the bombings – oh, no. It's always some neighbor, the merchant down the street from a rival clan, anyone they think they can frame and pin the fucking blame on.”
“Matthew...” Mom speaks up, eerily quiet up until now. “You can't write it off that easy.”
We both do a slow turn, fixing our gaze on her.
“Why?” My brother rumbles.
“Because I lied.” Her lips twist like she's bitten into something bitter. “Bart told me he helped Ryan escape. It was about the time he was diagnosed, when he came home from the hospital that cold, snowy winter.”
She pauses, closing her eyes. “He knew his outlook wasn't good. There was something on his chest. One night we stayed up late, drinking cherry wine, talking about the old times, good and bad. We were laughing, remembering how big and beautiful our family used to be, before the ugliness with Ryan. He got real quiet, teared up a little, and looked at me, said he had something important to say.”
Something dark, thick, and angry wells up inside me. I want to believe she's lying, missing details, or didn't have the whole truth from dad.
Because if both my parents knew, all these years...
My hands form fists on my lap, tightening as we listen to her talk. “Kara, it's my fault. Not his. He made me promise on his life not to say anything. What he burned in that pit wasn't ordinary porn. It was everything you said...dark, demented, evil stuff that shouldn't have ever see the light of day. He talked about how he found Ryan passed out, Nelson struggling to his feet, a horrible wound on his head...he did what he had to. He put a sick, wretched man out of his misery. And then yes, Jesus, he helped our Ryan escape.”
I'm going to be sick. I'm about to heave up what little is left in my stomach from a whole day not eating, but not before I stand up, gripping the back of my chair, and look her in the eye. “Why, mom...why the fuck did you lie?”
A single, painful tear rolls down her cheek. “He told me there wasn't any way to bring the boy back, and frankly, I agreed. I understood the danger, imagined the ways it would ruin our family, worse than it already has, messing with the Draytons. I swore I'd protect you from Ryan Caspian, honey, and that's all I've tried to do, even today. It hurt to turn him in. I didn't know about the cheating. I wanted to believe Reg was different, good for you, that you'd moved on with your life and wanted to marry him. He told me how Ryan burst in, beat him up, said he should never, ever come near you again. Honey, he cried...”
Fire scorches my veins, imagining how the manipulative piece of shit I almost married twisted the knife deep in all our backs.
“And you listened to his tears? The same ones from a man whose family fortune should be going straight to his Great Uncle's
victims?”
“I-I'm sorry. I thought he was better. I thought maybe your father was wrong, that Ryan was bad for you, too damaged by everything that happened. Reg was going to be the one to make you happy.” She looks down, crushed. I can practically see the gaping hole ripped in her by the truth – all of it. “I just wanted to protect you. Never wanted to see you ruining this family, or ruining yourself a second time, chasing after a man who's always going to be a walking target. They'll put him away for good when they find out. It breaks my heart, falling for Reg's story, knowing that poor young man is going to jail.”
I hear the pain in her voice, but I don't have any sympathy. “He's a billionaire, mom. Richer than the Draytons, probably. He can fight fire with fire. We came home to clear his name, for Christ's sake, and now you've both ruined it. All because you had to listen to that lying prick.”
My hands go up in the air and blood hits my temples. I can't do this anymore. I'm heading for the closest door, ignoring mom's breakdown, her wails echoing through the whole house.
“Kara!” Matt yells after me. I don't stop, refusing to look at him when I'm out on the driveway, calling a co-worker for a ride.
I'm heading back to my condo, and then I'm going straight to the sheriff's office. He'll probably lock me up on orders from Reg's family, or have me committed to a psyche ward, but I don't care.
It's not going down this way. I won't let it end like this.
Matt grabs me by the shoulder. I spin so fast I drop my phone. My palm doesn't stop, heading straight for his face. I hit him at least three times as hard as I can before my brain starts working again, and I stumble back, hating every blinding second of this.
My brother's hand reaches up, touching the burn on his cheek. No, he doesn't deserve this, he's just trying to help.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” I whimper, folding my arms around myself, turning my back.
“Sis...I deserved it. Didn't listen. I got taken for a ride by that piece of shit when I really shouldn't have, just like mom.” He shuffles up behind me, standing so he blocks the wind nipping at my back. “I owe you an apology. Everything you said sounded crazy. I never thought in a million years dad would lie to me, lie to all of us, and mom would back him up.”
“Yeah, well...now you get how I feel. But you'll never understand it, not if you try till Holden's half-grown.” I look down, kicking a stray rock across the pavement. It helps me fight the urge to burst into tears. “You put him away, Matt. You didn't mean to, but you did. You, mom, and Reg's fucking lies.”
“I don't need to understand,” he says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Before everything went to shit, I cared about Ryan. He was my best friend. Still might be, knowing what really went down, or near enough. We're going to get him out of there.”
I refuse to look at him until he nudges my arm, turning me around. After everything that's happened, it seems impossible that I'd ever get a friend in this fight.
“This isn't your fight. Mom and dad weren't exaggerating about the danger we're putting ourselves in, even if they were wrong with how they handled it. I can't let them come down on you and Holden. Let me do this, alone.”
“Sis, you're looking at me and seeing your big brother. Guess it's too easy to forget I've been overseas for four years, dealing with brutes who make the Draytons look like a damned joke. You need me, however much you don't want to hear it.” Both his hands are on my shoulders now, squeezing, forcing me to keep looking at him when I want nothing else except to turn away and run. “The Sheriff's compromised. His first instinct's going to be protecting the Draytons. He'll push you out of his office and send you down to some flunky, who'll throw your statement in a drawer where it'll just gather dust. They can't do that with a decorated Marine.”
I hate it, but I know he's right.
When I pull myself away, we head for his truck. I send him the same file from my phone, the one with the only evidence we have to set Ryan free. Then we're rolling onto the highway, too anxious to turn the radio on, never saying anything our eyes can't when we share a glance at every light.
We have to get him out of there. There's no telling what Reg will try to do with his family's connections. His family will want a spectacle in the local press, portraying them as victims, but Reg won't wait forever, knowing who he is and what he meant to me.
He doesn't take risks. If he doesn't know the truth about what happened with Nelson, he'll make sure it's only his family's version that ever goes on record.
I don't know what they're capable of. I remember Patricia's anger, the way she'd get whenever someone disappointed her.
These people don't play around. There are no morals. They'll do their damnedest to arrange an accident, or something worse, every hour Ryan spends locked up.
I'm thankful he's come to his senses, and he's helping me. But I can't ignore the ice creeping up my spine, the chill that keeps telling me it's too late.
I take a seat in the waiting room at the town's tiny police station, as soon as the sheriff's secretary gives my brother an audience. It doesn't take long to hear the two men bellowing at each other behind the closed door.
The secretary looks up when I stand, walk over, and press my ear against Sheriff Dixon's door. But she doesn't stop me, just walks over herself after several seconds pass, listening with me.
“You've lost your mind, Lilydale, with all due respect. I'm not sticking the FBI in the ass with a flimsy lead like this.” The sheriff's gravelly voice seeps through the wood, resonating in my ears.
“Flimsy? That what you call a list of pervs screwing around with girls they ought to have no business touching? What about the one who's been busted, doing time in a Federal pen?”
“I don't know anything about that,” the sheriff says, shooting down my brother's accusations. He's treating him like a crazy man. Like he's just told him he shook Elvis' hand on the moon. “Look, you know what the Drayton family means to this town. These are serious accusations. I know what Mr. Caspian means to us, too, and what he used to mean to you and yours. You'll have to do better than showing me a list of names if you want me to dig into old Nelson, and turn the worst suspect this town's ever had loose.”
“Then I'll have to do the impossible,” Matt growls. There's a dull thud. I imagine his hands hitting the sheriff's desk, leaning over him. “You've sold out. Failed to protect everybody in this town like you're supposed to, all because you're afraid to go after those fucking assholes.”
“Get out of my face,” Dixon snarls. “We're done here.”
“You're not a bad man – at least I want to believe you're not. Christ, man, get past the fear. Do the right thing. I've brought you proof. You could have this list of names in the lead investigator's hand tonight, blow open a slavery ring, and go down as the town's greatest hero in a generation when they're busted.”
“Please. Fame isn't on my agenda. You're good at what you do, Matt, and I appreciate your service to our country.” The sheriff pauses, trying to regain his calm. “But you're a fool if you think busting the Draytons won't leave this town reeling. They pull their business, we've got nothing.”
“Did you forget you're about to cook a self-made man who's built a billion dollar business?”
“That's hardly relevant to the scope of the suspect's crime,” Dixon snaps. “I'm sorry, I can't help you. If you think so little of this office that you believe we're here to serve one family, instead of Split Harbor, you're welcome to go to the FBI yourself.”
“Bullshit. We both know the Draytons have got their hands in the Feds, too. Our only shot at breaking their backs starts here.” My brother pauses, holding in his anger. I watch his silhouette turn in the frosted glass, heading for the door. The secretary scampers away to her desk behind me. “It's your call, Sheriff, and you know it. If you make the right one, I'll be waiting outside with my sister for awhile.”
Dixon never replies. Matt comes storming out a second later, shooting me a surprised look when he sees me s
tanding next to the door.
“I know, it didn't go well,” I tell him. “What are we going to do now?”
“Wait. We're going to hang out here until midnight, or until we see the sheriff leave. Whatever happens first. He's thinking things over. Deciding what kind of man he is tonight, one way or another.”
Great, more waiting.
Meanwhile, I think about Ryan, holed up somewhere in the back of this building where they have the tiny cells. He's alone, wondering if his worst nightmare is finally coming true.
I can't lose him again. Touching my ring finger, I let the minutes flow by anxiously, remembering my promise.
When I said I'd marry him again, I meant it, down to my soul. This doesn't change that.
If I have to visit him behind bars, wearing his ring, and be a prison wife, I will. I'll wait my entire life to see him free. I'll keep fighting the bastards as long and hard as I have to.
Nothing's destroying our love a second time.
He's cleared his name with me, retaken my heart, and claimed me again. I'm afraid, but I'm determined.
As long as I hang onto that, I'll always have my husband.
12
Just Breathe (Ryan)
It's amazing how time hemorrhages away in this little cell. I haven't been so numb or detached from the world since the night Nelson died, and Bart sent me away, protecting me the only way he could.
I'm the only prisoner here tonight. Split Harbor rarely ever has more than the odd drunken fist fight or a man wanted on petty crimes passing through town. There are only eight, maybe ten cells. I'm by myself back here, stuffed into a box that hasn't been updated since the 1930s.
Seeing how this is the town's first murder case in more than fifty years, I worry I'm about to become it's most famous inmate. Until they put me through a kangaroo court and shuffle me off to the nearest Federal penitentiary, anyway.