Chapter 42 Misty
MISTY
“It looks like a baboon in heat,” Granny Keagan states as she fusses with the ribbon on the back of my dress.
The dress did not fit this morning.
Of course.
I modified it with a sewing hack, using a panel of red satin fabric. “Maybe the veil will hide the worst of it.”
“I have Wite-Out in my bag.” Sienna purses her mouth.
“I think it’s festive,” I tell her.
“It’s a cry for help.” Lucy shakes her head.
“I keep hoping that this is a long con from you to leave Austen at the altar and humiliate him like he did you.”
“What if Talbot shows up on a horse”—Lucy swoons—“and carries you off into the sunset?”
“Talbot better not show up,” my mom warns.
“You’ve finally come to your senses, Misty.
Austen has agreed to take you back. This is the start of your perfect life.
We’ll both be WAGs together. We can wear matching outfits.
I love being an NHL wife. Marrying Ryan was one of my proudest moments.
You’re going to love being an NHL wife.”
“All that free emotional labor.” Lucy rocks on her heels.
“Did you sign a prenup?” Sienna asks.
“Of course not,” Rachel scoffs. “They’re in love. They’re going to be together forever.”
Forever.
Forever.
The door opens, slamming against the wall.
“You aren’t supposed to see the bride before you say ‘I do,’” my mom chastises as Austen barges into the bridal suite.
Sienna looks up from where she’s fixing Cocoa’s outfit because she refuses to, quote, “condone my self-sabotage.”
“I need to talk to my fiancé. Alone.”
Forever.
Do I really want to be with him forever? Forever is a long time… a very long time to be with someone who I’m not sure loves me and, even if he does, whom I’m not sure I love back.
Austen paces around in front of me as the room clears out. “Did you get the rest of that money?”
No words of love and devotion for his soon-to-be bride.
Those aren’t wedding bells—those are alarm bells.
“The banks aren’t just going to keep giving me loans,” I tell him cautiously.
“Then send me what you have. Right now.”
I hesitate.
“Don’t you love me, Misty?” Austen’s eyes look a little bloodshot. “Don’t you care about me? Or are you just marrying me for my money?”
I’m marrying him because the man I really love is a liar and a thief.
“Misty.” Austen takes a threatening step towards me.
I give in because I always give in. This is what you do for someone you love. I love him. I’ve always loved him. Being with Talbot for two and a half weeks doesn’t change that. “Alright, I’m wiring it to you.”
He doesn’t even say thank you—just storms out, muttering to himself.
The doubt follows me down the aisle.
I walk alone.
Wishing I could recapture the innocent, ecstatically happy feeling from the last time I slowly marched down the aisle toward him.
Austen blinks at me as I stand in front of him.
I hand Cocoa’s leash off to Sienna, who takes it with a downturned mouth.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest announces.
I brace myself, secretly wishing Talbot will show up, tell me he loves me, beg for my forgiveness, tell me that I was the most important thing to him.
I stammer out my vows—the same ones I had written for last year, agonizing over every word, needing to make Austen understand how important he was to me.
I reach for his hand to slide the gold ring on his finger…
He snatches his hand back. “I can’t, Misty. I can’t.”
“What? But... but I sent you the money.” Right? I sent him the money. “You lying piece of shit. You set me up,” I yell, slapping the bouquet at him. Flower petals explode.
“Me? This is your fault. You put too much pressure on me.”
“You asked me to marry you.” I’ve been used again. “Where is my phone? Where is it? I’m canceling the wire transfer. Where is my phone?”
“Again…”
“She just can’t keep a man.”
The room spins as the onlookers whisper about me.
I grab up my skirts and try to push through the crowd to race after Austen. “Don’t leave me! You said you were going to marry me. Austen! Austen!”
He’s not in the foyer. I check the stairwell then rush outside, blinking in the bright afternoon light.
I almost run into a man dressed all in black, scarf covering his face so only gray eyes blink at me—the exact same shade of silver as the ring on my finger.
“You came...” The words die on my lips as I look down to the lifeless, bleeding body of Austen.
“No!”
Talbot winces.
“No! You killed him! Oh my God, he’s dead!” The blood is cold through the silk of my dress as I kneel down, screaming Austen’s name, shaking his lifeless body as his dead eyes stare up into space.
“How could you?” I sob to Talbot.
“Misty, I—”
“You murdered him! I loved him, and now he’s dead!” I sob. “Get out!” I scream at him.
“I didn’t kill him, Misty. I swear to you—”
“Liar!” He grabs my wrists as I beat at his chest. “You horrible, awful liar. Austen!”
Austen’s not breathing.
“Get out!” I scream at Talbot. “Get out! I never want to see you again! You ruined my life! I hate you! Oh, Austen!”
“Misty, please believe—” Talbot’s gone when the wedding guests pour out into the December air.
In the distance, an ambulance wails. I pet Austen’s hair.
People crowd in, snapping photos and videos.
“Well, goddamn. That son of a bitch actually did it,” Granny Keagan says, crossing herself.
Sienna hauls me up, away from Austen’s body, as the EMTs check his pulse then unroll a body bag.
“No,” I moan. “No, please. This is all my fault.”
“Let’s maybe get her inside,” Gran says out of the side of her mouth. “We don’t want to spend Christmas in the penitentiary.”
The last image I have of Austen is the black body bag being loaded onto a stretcher and slowly being carried down the steep steps.
“Austen’s poor parents.” My mom sighs in the living room.
“It’s a horrible Christmas.” Pamela shudders.
I stare numbly at the Christmas tree.
“Planning a funeral for Christmas,” Aunt Kathy tuts.
“Bunny won’t answer her phone.” My mom drops her cell phone in her lap.
“I can’t imagine that she wants to speak to us. Austen would still be alive if he’d married Brielle instead of Misty,” Pamela sniffs.
“Seriously? He was planning a surprise wedding for that day,” I argue. “It didn’t matter who the bride was.”
“If it was Brielle like it should have been, Austen wouldn’t have left her at the altar. Misty is bad luck,” Grandma Pam argues.
“Mom.” Ryan sounds tired.
“She is!”
“And the ghost of Christmas sluts appears.” Lucy smirks.
“You see how they treat me?” Brielle yells at Ryan. “I’m being pushed out of my own home, out of your life. You’re trying to replace me.”
“Brielle, of course we’re not. It’s just there’s been a horrible tragedy.” Ryan rubs a hand over his face. “The NHL keeps calling me. I don’t know what to say. They want to know if he was involved with drugs or gambling or something illegal.”
“Misty didn’t even love him,” Brielle says harshly.
“I thought you had finally moved out,” Lucy snaps.
“Your wife,” Brielle sneers, “has turned all of my siblings against me. This is alienation. You should divorce her over it, Daddy.”
“I’m not divorcing Rachel.” His tone is sharp, but it doesn’t dissuade Brielle at all.
“Misty isn’t sad. Look at her—crocodile tears. She just wanted Austen for his money. She’s just mad he’s dead before they were married, not after. This has been a plot between Misty and that slut you married.”
“Brielle.”
“I have proof! I asked around town. Angie’s mom said Lois overheard them in the café a few weeks ago talking about hiring an escort.” Brielle is triumphant.
“Misty didn’t hire an escort,” Ryan argues.
“Talbot is an escort. She hired him. She sent an agency money and hired him. Didn’t she, Lucy?”
My younger sister freezes.
“Look at her face.” Brielle points.
Ryan peers down at Lucy, who’s looking awfully guilty.
“Lucy.” Ryan uses that tone. “What are you hiding?”
Lucy swallows.
“I’m taking your phone away if you don’t tell me the truth. Indefinitely.” Ryan’s voice drops.
Lucy’s about to crack. “Ummm.” She’s sweating, looking between me and Granny and Sienna.
“Oh, so Sienna’s in on it too.”
My bestie clamps her mouth shut.
“And that freeloader.” Brielle tosses her hair.
“I ain’t talkin’. I am going down with the ship.” Granny Keagan salutes me.
“Lucy,” Ryan barks at her. “The phone.”
“Okay, okay. Misty hired an assassin accidentally on TikTok.” Lucy slumps.
“You see?” Brielle slaps the back of Lucy’s chair. “I told you she hired an escort.”
“Wait,” Ryan interjects. “Did you say an assassin?”
Sienna’s dad snickers.
“Yeah.” Lucy nods, phone clutched in her hands.
“Yeah right.” Jaxon rolls his eyes. “Dad, take her phone. You took mine away because I didn’t tell you I was going to Connor’s house after practice.”
“Lucy—” Ryan reaches for the phone.
“You said if I told the truth I could keep it!” she screams at him.
“You helped Misty hire an assassin? Lucy, seriously, you’re just mocking me now. No one hires an assassin off of TikTok. You’re not being helpful. Give me the phone.”
“No!” Lucy screams as Ryan tries to wrestle her phone away from her.
“She’s addicted to that phone. It’s a symptom of terrible mothering.” Pamela thunders over Lucy’s screams and Ryan’s yells.
“She’s telling the truth. She did help me hire an assassin,” I say quietly.
“Yeah, told you,” Lucy hollers and snatches the phone back.
“Stop enabling her.” Brielle tries to snatch the phone from Lucy.
“Misty, honestly.” My mom takes a long swallow of her wine.
“I hired”—my voice trembles—“a hitman. And paid him quite a lot of money too. I can show you the bank account statements.”
Ryan’s mouth is silently moving up and down.
“Misty, what in the world?” Mom is incredulous, her hand fluttering to her forehead.
“Why would you hire an assassin?” Ryan looks confused.
“To kill that cheating motherfucker Austen, and it’s the most badass thing I’ve ever seen,” Granny Keagan declares.
I sniffle, the tears rolling down my face. “I thought I was hiring a fake boyfriend for Brielle’s engagement party. And he turned out to be a hitman.”
“Oh my god.” Mason’s mouth drops open. “My sister’s assassin boyfriend killed the captain of my NHL team. I have to tell the guys—”
“What is with you all and your phones? No!” Ryan slaps the phone out of Mason’s hands. “No one is saying anything.”
“I’m going straight to the police,” Brielle shrieks. “She got Austen killed.”
“Then you’re disowned!” Ryan thunders. “I’m serious, Brielle. This could be disastrous to the Harbor Hawks. We could lose everything. I’ll have to resign. Mason will have to quit. I won’t be able to buy you anything. I’ll have to sell the house.”
My brothers start to wail.
“You can’t sell my car!” Mason begs.
“I didn’t even get a car yet.” Jaxon drops to his knees.
“Then just, everyone, keep your mouths shut until I figure this out.” Ryan paces.
“Could be a while. Hockey players aren’t the smartest in the bunch,” Caleb jokes.
“There’s going to be an investigation. They’re going to find out,” Mike says.
“What a shit show.”
“You see? Mom and I were right,” Aunt Kathy says sourly to her younger brother.
“We told you that marrying that woman”—she points to my mom—“would bring down the whole family, that it would ruin your life, and here we are. Bringing that trashy single-mother behavior into our nice family. Now your life, your legacy, is ruined, all because of her and her daughter.”
“It is not.” Grandma Pam hoists herself up. “Misty’s going to the police. You’re not dragging the rest of us down.”
Mom wags her finger at me. “This is your fault, Misty. I told you not to do anything that jeopardizes hockey.”
“Rachel,” Ryan says, “we’ll get a lawyer and deal with it tomorrow. She’s not going to the police tonight.”
“Get your bag. You can stay with me tonight,” Sienna says quietly.
“Um, no, she can’t,” her dad tells her and puts his arm around her shoulders. “I need to get you a lawyer too.”
“But—”
“Sienna,” her dad barks. “Ryan, this is... I can’t fucking believe this. You’re not taking my family down with your bullshit.”
Sienna gives me a guilty look as her dad leads her away. She doesn’t even give me the customary goodbye hug.
I’ve ruined everything. Kathy and Pamela are right.
I’m a horrible person, and I hurt my family. I hurt my friend. Sienna could go to jail with me. She’s an accomplice. I ruined Ryan’s friendship. If Mike’s daughter goes to jail because of me, Ryan’s going to be dead to him.
I ruined everything.
I should have just suffered quietly during Christmas. I never should have tried to have something nice, shouldn’t have even entertained Talbot when he showed up. I should have just sent him packing.
“Misty.” Ryan sounds exhausted. Old. “Just go upstairs. I need to figure...” He trails off.
I slowly climb the stairs up to my bedroom and look around.
How did this happen? How did I let what was going to be the worst Christmas of my entire life turn into a nuclear disaster of a holiday?
I’m going to kill Talbot. If I can even find him. He’s probably halfway to the North Pole with my life savings.
I sit in front of the unlit fire in my fireplace. Someone cleaned it out and stacked fresh wood next to it.
Talbot.
How could I have ever thought he was in love with me?
I need to go to the police. This is my fault. I can’t drag everyone else down with me.
I should get all the evidence together and organize it in a binder so they can read through it easily.
I sit there in the chill, listening to the branches of the leafless tree outside of my window tap against the pane of glass.
Wait.
I half stand up.
Something or someone is tapping on the window, trying to get in.
If that is who I think it is...
I prepare to give Talbot a piece of my mind as I rush to the window, see the face, and scream.