“I’m sorry for what I said too. While you listen, can you do me a huge favor?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take everything off the Kiki Kiki profile. Delete all the photos. Unfriend everyone. Then delete the account.”
I take a deep breath as I walk to the front of the room.
Then I start talking.
And don’t stop until I’ve told them every bit of the truth, from the moment I met Vincent until the moment he tried to kidnap me.
“Why isn’t he in jail?” one of the reporters asks.
“There wasn’t enough evidence to prove attempted kidnapping, so they let him go. Basically, it was his word against mine. He told the police that we were friends. That I invited him to the party. That there was a commotion and he was trying to help. When we were back home, I remembered he mentioned a van out back. The police found a van with duct tape and drugs in it, but it was stolen so they couldn’t trace it back to him.”
“Sneaky bastard,” Dallas says.
“Yeah, well, it gets worse.”
“Keep going,” Riley encourages.
“So, we were back at home, just trying to wrap our heads around it all. How I knew him. How they could let him go. What it would mean—when a house alarm went off down the beach at my boyfriend’s. It was quickly discovered that whoever broke in took just one thing.”
“What was that?” one of the reporters asks breathlessly.
“My bikini. The one I was wearing when I first met him on the beach.”
“Oh, that’s sick,” she says.
“He also left us something.”
“What?”
“An envelope addressed to my mom. Inside were photos of me. From everywhere. School. With friends. Boyfriends. He’d been following me for months.”
“Wow,” Maggie says.
“And that’s why I was sent here. And why I had to lie about who I am. I’m hiding.”
“So, are you going to hide out forever?” Riley asks.
I tell them the rest. About Vincent following my friends. About the breakins at the rehab centers. About Vincent showing up at the surf tournament and later in Miami. About the nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston. About the photos of Tommy and Brooklyn with their heads blown off.
About going back to the club to see Vincent.
About the girl’s death.
“That’s why I lied. I wanted everyone to hate me because I need to protect you. Protect Eastbrooke. Because if he finds out where I am, he’ll come here. And it won’t be pretty.”
“What are you going to do now?” Maggie asks.
“I’m fighting back. I’ll probably end up kidnapped or dead but, hopefully, he’ll end up in jail.” I shut my eyes tightly, not loving my odds. I look directly at the reporters. “Either way, you’ll have another story.”
Cooper escorts the press out of the room while I get hugs and words of encouragement from my friends.
Riley wraps an arm around my shoulder and whispers, “You told me the truth. Mostly.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“I got it all done,” Annie says, handing me back my phone. “You should have told us.”
“At first, I didn’t know you well enough to trust you. Once I did, I was afraid to put you in danger.”
“You were going to take me home to meet your parents,” Dawson says flatly. “Your real parents?”
“Yeah. I was going to tell you the truth on the plane.”
“And I fucked it up. I’m sorry.”
“Which really made me afraid to trust any of you.”
“Okay,” Cooper says, heading back into the room. “I think you should all either go dance or head out. It’s getting late.”
Dallas narrows his eyes at me. “Coach Steele is being awfully helpful.”
“After the Miami incident, he was brought in to babysit me. Be my bodyguard.”
Maggie gives me a smile and a wink. “Lucky girl. Have a good Christmas break. Be safe. And I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“You better be coming back to Eastbrooke.”
“If I can’t, at least now you’ll know why.”
Dallas joins the hug. “If you don’t, you better stay in touch.”
“I will. I promise.” I turn to Riley. “Hey, can I catch a ride to the hotel with you and Ariela?”
Riley looks around, seemingly surprised. “Where’s Aiden?”
I put my head down. I don’t want to say it. My heart hurts.
“Is he meeting you at the hotel?”
“He walked out and didn’t want me to follow him.”
Riley shakes his head. “Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know, Riley!” I snap.
“We’ll give you a ride,” Ariela says sweetly, comforting as always.
“Thank you. I’ll meet you out front in a couple minutes.”
As soon as everyone leaves the room, Cooper says, “I’m coming to the hotel with you. And you need to explain to me what really happened.”
“Whitney was going to share something about Peyton. It was bad, Cooper. Something that should not have been shared. I couldn’t let her do it.”