He worked through that pain by having a bottle of whiskey by his side and different women in his bed. My mom was one of them. She didn't tell him about me until she knew her life was over. I was supposed to go live with my aunt in Brooklyn until my dad came to Boston. He arrived with a bouquet of flowers and Annie by his side.
The loss of my mom after their brief reunion sent him into a tailspin. He drank more and worked less and soon the small furnished apartment in Murray Hill that we lived in wasn't ours anymore. We slept in the car until he sold that and the city's shelters became our home.
He closes the journal with shaking hands. "We need to talk, Ellie, about something I did for Kip."
I squeeze his hand tighter. "You did lots of things for Annie. You gave her food and gloves. Your friend Jeff told her about Paris and it made her fall in love with it."
"That was Crew." A smile ghosts his lips. "Crew told Kip his name was Jeff."
I scan his face, tears swelling in my eyes. "That was Crew? He knew her too?"
"Not well." He swipes the pad of his thumb over my cheek to catch a tear. "They met only a couple of times. Crew talked about Paris. She was mesmerized by it."
"I can't believe that was Crew." I hold his gaze with mine. "I still can't believe you're Rigs."
"I'll read these." He runs his fingers over the open journal in his lap. "I will read and cherish every word that she wrote in here, but I need to talk about something now. I need to explain why I did what I did."
"What did you do?" My stomach knots. I've read my sister's journals more than a dozen times. I've held tight to her thoughts and her words because they've brought me comfort.
"Kip was attacked one night," he begins, his shoulders tensing. "Do you remember that night?"
"I remember everything about that night."
"I was there." He closes his eyes. "I was walking through the park. I heard her scream. I ran. I saw things. There was a man on her, Ellie. His hands were all over her. He was hitting her. Holding her down."
"Yes," I mutter, my voice barely audible. "I remember."
"I pulled him off." He reaches for my hand. "I pulled him off and he took off. He ran. I chased that sick fuck until I caught him."
Chapter 54
Nolan
Ellie's staring at me. I have no idea what Kip wrote in these journals about that night but I don't want to read her words before I tell Ellie what happened in my own words. I want her to understand why I did what I did. I want her to know that I was trying to protect her sister.
"He hurt Kip," she says softly. "She was in the hospital for weeks. It's a miracle she survived."
I've never known the extent of her injuries. All I saw was blood covering a face I couldn't recognize. Her nose was battered and broken, her jaw hanging loosely revealing missing teeth. Her clothes were on, though. Her shirt was ripped but her body still covered. She rolled over to shield her face as I pulled the bastard off of her.
"Did he… do you know if he…"
"No." She moves closer to me. "He didn't rape her. Annie fought hard. She fought him off."
By the time I caught him and dragged him to the ground, his jeans were closed but his belt hung open, the buckle clanging as he ran.
I heave a sigh of relief. I wanted to call the hospital back then to ask how she was, but I was too scared that they'd somehow trace the inquiry back to me and I'd be brought in by the police.
"Please know that I only did what I did for her, Ellie." I turn so I'm looking right into her eyes. "I don’t regret it. I would do the same thing again."
"What did you do?"
I want her to put the pieces of this together herself. I scanned the newspaper the next day and the day after that when there was finally a small story about a jogger finding a man's body on a trail in Central Park. His name was never released. No one reported on his cause of death. I took it as a sign that I'd done the right thing and I took off. I went to Miami for a week with Crew after I burned my clothes and shoes in the fireplace of my parents' summer home on Long Island.
I held my breath for months after that hoping that no one would ever know that I'd taken a man's life.
I don't waver at all. I keep her gaze as I say the words aloud for the first time. "I killed that man, Ellie. I beat him until he was dead."
She moves back on the couch, her hand falling from mine. Her head shakes, a quick jerk before he eyes fall to her lap. "No."
"Yes." I don't want this hanging over me anymore. My anger fueled my movements that night but it wasn't just the sight of Kip laying there that spurred me on. It was the realization that the man I'd punched until he stopped fighting back and I couldn't lift my arms, had been watching Kip for weeks. He'd approached her more than one time. He'd walked past as I talked to her, gawking at her thin frame hidden beneath her jacket.
"Nolan." She drops her head into her hands, her palms pressing into her eyes sockets. "You didn't. You didn't kill him."
I expected this. I anticipated it when I realized that she knew I was Rigs. I knew that she'd have to deny it before she accepted it. Hiding it from her will only tarnish what we have. Sooner or later I'll have to confess. I can't hide a secret this size from the only woman I've ever loved.