“There are so many,” she said in awe.
“We protect our own,” Clay said simply. “Now, let’s go get our boy.” He held up the phone, showing that the plane was landing. They ran, their feet pounding the hard, concrete floors. Peighton’s legs felt like butter but she couldn’t stop. They shoved past people, making their way through lines for restaurants and sleeping people on the floor of the layover areas. Her body needed to hold her son.
When they finally made it to his gate, Peighton’s eyes searched the crowd. She looked for his golden hair, his perfect skin, tall, lanky body. “Kyle,” she whispered softly. “Where are you?”
“Frank!” Clay yelled, rushing away from her. Peighton looked over, realizing Frank was standing a mere ten feet away from them. Seeing Peighton and Clay, and realizing they weren’t happy to see him, he took off, running the opposite way. Clay leapt on top of him, parting the crowd. Peighton looked around, searching for the other officers to help him, but they were nowhere in sight.
Frank was able to push Clay off of him easily as he was over double his size. Clay lunged at him, punching him square in the jaw. Frank shoved him down, his eyes locking with Peighton’s for a second before he kicked Clay in the stomach and turned to run. Clay stood up, holding his stomach and attempting to run after him.
“Clay,” Peighton yelled, trying to stop him. About that time, a few of the officers came into her eyeline. She began jumping up and down, pointing the direction that Frank had run. The officers, noticing her, quickly headed the way she was directing them.
“Mom?” she heard his voice, his beautiful voice, behind her and turned to see him. In that moment, nothing else mattered. She grasped his neck, collapsing to the ground in all out sobs. He sank to the ground with her. “What’s wrong?” he asked her, his voice shaking.
She couldn’t answer, nothing but sobs coming out of her as she held her son, breathing in his scent. She kissed his face, his head, his hands, tears pouring down her cheeks. He hugged her tight, allowing her to continue crying. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Forty-Five
PEIGHTON
ONE YEAR LATER
It had been a year since they’d heard from Frank, a year since the mystery had been solved, and a year since Peighton had felt true, gut-wrenching fear. Though the police didn’t manage to catch Frank, he’d disappeared from the address he’d given Kyle, and Peighton was sure he was gone for good.
But, as she stared at the letter that awaited her in the mailbox, she knew that wasn’t the case. The postmark was from Washington, though there was no return address. It was addressed to her. She recognized his handwriting immediately, and all at once the cold fear she’d known so well a year ago was back.
Standing there in the driveway, she opened the letter.
Peighton,
It’s me. I’m sure I’m the last person
you expected to hear from, or wanted
to hear from, but I have to explain. I
owe you the truth.
By now, I’m sure you know about me
and Todd. We never meant to lie to
you. It killed Todd that we were
lying. He never wanted to keep
secrets from you, Peighton. He loved
you more than you will ever know.
In some ways, I guess I was jealous
of that. We started seeing each other
after you were married, but before
he told you the truth about who he
was. You were his first love. I was his
second. Drew came much later, and
it was more a fling than anything,
but he used Drew to hide us. It was
easier that way.
I truly did love him, Peighton, just as
much as you. I would’ve died for that
man. He meant everything to me.
Just like you and Kyle.
So, if, by now, you’ve figured out
that I was Beelzebub (which if you
hadn’t, surprise!), you should know
that I started it to catch Clay
cheating on his wife. He never did.
He’s a good man, babe. He’s good for
you. Sarah Williams’ death was my
fault, but it wasn’t my choice. The
truth is, she caught Todd and I
together one night when she came to
my office unexpectedly. She was a
reporter in Birmingham and she was
going to publish the story. I couldn’t
let that happen. It would have ruined
him and all that he’d worked so hard
for.
Todd was devastated. I didn’t know
what to do other than to follow her
and try to convince her to keep quiet.
Once she’d figured out who Todd was
though, it was over. I knew it and I
knew what I had to do. I did it for
Todd. And I’d do it again in a
heartbeat. If you wouldn’t, you can’t
possibly understand my love for him.
I was able to keep what I’d done a
secret for a while. When the news of
Sarah’s death came out, I let him
believe it was a coincidence. When he
found out the truth, he was sick with
grief. He hated me, hated himself. He
went into a dark depression, though
he tried to keep it from you. He
wanted to find Sarah’s family, tell
them the truth. Doing so would have
ruined his career, your marriage,
and his life. It would have hurt Kyle.
Hear me when I say this, Peighton:
Todd’s death was an accident. I
would have sooner died than ever
hurt him. We were fighting about
Sarah on the stairs and he fell. He
missed a step. I reached for him, but
I was too late. I can still remember
the way his shirt felt as it slipped out
of my fingers. I’ll never forget the
sound he made when he hit the
ground or the look on his face when
he fell.
Drew was the only deliberate
murder I’ve ever committed.
Planned, plotted, and done. There’s
no way to make this any prettier
than it is, so here we go: Once I knew
you had discovered Beelzebub and
Clay knew about Sarah and I’s
relationship, I had to work fast.
Drew was the obvious scapegoat. I
went to his house, wrote the suicide
note, and slit his wrists. He fought
back but I was stronger.
Todd’s death ruined any semblance
of humanity that was left in me. For
a while, I fooled myself into believing
we could be okay, you and me. We
could raise Kyle together, like you
and Todd had, but I could never
bring myself to tell you the truth
about who I was and what I’d done.
You were too precious to me,
Peighton. You always have been.
As for Kyle, just know that I won’t
come after him. He’s yours. I don’t
know if that was something you
worried about, but just in case, I
wanted to ease your mind.
Lastly, don’t worry about me. I’m
not coming for you. I love you like I
love Kyle. Hurting you any more
than I already have would destroy
me. I wish you and Clay all the best.
Oh, and, if you still hate me and plan
to call the cops, just know that by the
time you read this I’ll either be in
Mexico or dead.
Look me up sometime if you forgive
me. In Mexico, I mean, not death. I
fully plan on going to hell and you
don’t have any place there.
Take care of yourself, Peighton, and
take care of our boy. I’ll miss you
both every day for the rest of what I
assume will be a very short life.
Without my family, I am nothing.
Your brother forever,
Frank
Peighton carried the letter into the house with shaking hands. She walked to the bedroom, sticking it in the shredder. No one ever needed to see the letter and be haunted by those words like she feared she would be.
She walked to the bathroom, climbing in the shower and letting the water scald her skin. She was numb, her whole body shaken by his words. She wondered if she could ever bring herself to forgive him or if she’d ever found the strength to hate him in the first place. He’d been her family for so long, she supposed in some ways, she’d always love him.