The Beginning After

“Upset? Oh, no, dear, I’m well past upset. See, you’ve come into my home in the middle of the night, woken me up, accused me of harboring the boy I’ve practically raised for you and lying to your face about it. And now you want to go search my house like I’m some common criminal. Like I haven’t been a part of your home for twenty years now. But, of course, go right ahead and check all the crevices of my home, just in case this has all been some clever ruse. Twenty years of wasting my time all to kidnap your son who has about a foot and eighty pounds on me. Of course, dear, you’ve caught me,” she said hatefully, her face growing red.

“I’m sorry, Isabel,” Peighton said, though she couldn’t deny her curiosity. She fumbled down the hallway, Frank close behind her. “Kyle?” she called, listening for any signs of movement. She opened a few doors, looking into a bedroom, closet, and bathroom, but didn’t dare enter the rooms. They all seemed empty, no signs of a habitant. “Kyle?” she called one last time, her hope diminishing. When she realized Kyle wasn’t there, her embarrassment grew. She didn’t want to face Izzy, a woman she’d considered a friend for so long, after the way she’d acted tonight.

“I’m so sorry, Izzy. I feel terrible,” she said, walking back into the living room.

“Did you find the dead bodies?” Izzy asked her, anger still filling her voice.

“Please don’t be angry.”

“What about the weapons room? My secret chamber?” Her Scottish accent flared up the angrier she grew.

“Izzy, take it easy,” Frank interjected. “She’s just worried about Kyle. We all are.”

“And if you’d shown up here like civilized people, I would’ve had a chance to be worried too. But instead, we’ve reverted to the ways of our forefathers, coming in and demanding our way. Now, if that is all…I’d like to go back to bed. We can look for young Mr. Kyle in the morning.”

Though Peighton still wasn’t sure about leaving, she seemed to have no choice. She turned, walking toward the door.

“If it’s all the same to ya,” Izzy said, holding the door as they walked through it. “I won’t be coming in tomorrow.”

With that, she shut the door, leaving them standing in the dark.





Twenty-Four





CLAY, 2016





Beelzebub9677: Morning handsome

Nealson70: handsome? Lol good morning back at you

Beelzebub9677: did you catch the game last night?

Nealson70: Nah, the wife was sick again.

Beelzebub9677: Bummer

Nealson70: tell me about it

Beelzebub9677: Carolina lost

Nealson70: I heard…I call it rigged

Beelzebub9677: that’s cause you’re a sore loser

Nealson70: not a chance man

Beelzebub9677: when are we going to get to meet up?

Nealson70: you still haven’t told me where you’re from

Beelzebub9677: you haven’t told me either

Nealson70: yeah, well, internet safety and all. I am a cop

Beelzebub9677: let me meet you at work then. I love a man in uniform



Beelzebub9677: You there?

Nealson70: yeah I’m here

Beelzebub9677: you went quiet

Nealson70: I know

Beelzebub9677: I like talking to you

Nealson70: what’s your name?

Beelzebub9677: why do you want to know that?

Nealson70: I guess maybe I’m confused

Beelzebub9677: what’s there to be confused about?

Nealson70: it’s kind of embarrassing. I like talking to you but…I thought you were a dude. Lol.

Beelzebub9677: why would you think that? Haha

Nealson70: the chatroom we met on…it’s a sports club. I thought it was sort of a mens only type of thing

Beelzebub9677: so women can’t like sports, cowboy?

Nealson70: not saying that at all, just wasn’t expecting you to be a woman

Beelzebub9677: so, you were looking for a man?

Nealson70: not like that! Haha. Me and a few of my buddies hang out there to do fantasy leagues. Were always looking to add to our groups

Beelzebub9677: I see. So, me being a woman…is that a bad thing?

Nealson70: its just that im married. Happily. I don’t want to do anything wrong here

Beelzebub9677: she doesn’t have to know

Beelzebub9677: im good at keeping secrets



Beelzebub9677: you there?

Beelzebub9677: hello?

Beelzebub9677: Clay?

The following message was declined because your contact (Nealson70) could not be found online: Clay?

Please try again later.





Twenty-Five





ISABEL





Isabel shut the door behind her, resting her back against it and heaving a sigh. She turned, peering out the blinds and watching the taillights fade down the driveway. Once they were gone, she picked up the house phone sitting on the old wooden table and dialed his number.

It rang and rang with no answer. She sighed, walking to the kitchen and grabbing the kettle off the stove, filling it with water. She placed it on the burner, turning it on high and pacing around the kitchen. She hadn’t technically done anything wrong, she reminded herself. She was truly trying to do what she believed was best for the boy. She cared about Kyle more than anyone in her life, as much as if he were her own child.

Her phone rang loudly from the living room, causing her to startle. She rushed into the kitchen, her hands shaking as she picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she whispered into the line.

“Izzy?” His voice told her he’d been asleep.

“Kyle, I’m sorry to wake you, sweetheart.”

“What is it, Iz?”

“Your mother was just here. It worked.”

“It did? What did you tell her?”

“Yes, they tracked your phone here. You were smart to leave it with me. I didn’t tell her anything. I made it seem like you hadn’t been here at all.”

“Did she believe you?” he asked.

“I think so,” she said honestly. “Maybe not completely, but I was convincing. I was on Broadway, you know,” she teased him.

“No, you weren’t,” he said in disbelief.

She laughed aloud. “Okay, you caught me. But I could’ve been.”

“How long ago did they leave?” he asked, changing the subject back to what mattered.

“Just a few moments ago, dear. I think she’s headed home. Did you make it there safely?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he told her.

“You can’t stay long, sweet boy. She’s worried sick.”

“I know. I just…I don’t know how to face her right now, Izzy. I don’t want her to hate me.”

“My dear, she’s your mother. She could never hate you,” she said, though she wasn’t sure if that were entirely true under the circumstances.

“I wish that were true.”

“You just need to come home and talk to her. She will understand.”

“I don’t know that she will.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t talk to her, Kyle. I understand. I don’t love you any less.”

“You’re different, Izzy. You aren’t like her. You aren’t like Dad.”

“I’m only different because you think of me as different, my sweet. I love you just the same as they do.”

“I’ll come home,” he promised.

“Soon?” she asked.

“Soon.”

“I won’t lie to your mother for long.”

“I know. I’m sorry I have to bring you into this.”

She cradled the phone as if she were holding his face, rubbing it gently. “Don’t apologize, Kyle. You’ve done nothing wrong. I will protect you as long as I live, you know that.”

“I know,” he said. “I just wish I could change everything.”

“You can’t change anything but the future, sweet boy. That’s just how life works.”

“It sucks sometimes,” he said, yawning.

“You should get some rest, m’dear,” she said kindly. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay, Izzy.”

“Take care, sweetheart. Sweet dreams. It’s going to get better.”

“Goodnight,” he said softly, just moments before the line went dead.

She placed the phone down, her heart full of sadness. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to take that boy’s pain away. She wished more than anything she could promise him that it would all be okay, though she knew that was a promise that wasn’t up to her.

She wiped a stray tear from her eye, jumping once again as the tea kettle began screaming from the kitchen. She raced in, grabbing it from the burner and cursing as the steam burned her wrist. She took a mug down from the cabinet, filled it, and placed a tea bag into the scalding water.

She turned around, throwing the tea down. “Christ!” she yelled.

“I think we need to talk,” he said, staring into her eyes. She hadn’t heard the door open, his footsteps muffled by the blaring of the tea kettle.

“How much did you hear?” she asked, not daring to move to clean up her tea.

“Everything,” Frank said, grabbing a towel from the back of a nearby chair and tossing it to her. “Now start explaining.”





Twenty-Six





FRANK, 2016



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