Chapter 48 #2
“No, that’s–N-No.” He starts stuttering, pulling at his hair, his clothes, anything he can get his hands on.
“No, she wouldn’t do that! She wanted to be part of my life.
She said so herself. Read the letters!” Standing he jolts toward the bars, arms shooting through and locking his eyes on Hartley who’s watching with narrowed eyes. “Go ahead blondie, go get them!”
“She’s not getting the letters, Vincent.
I thought I knew Val better than I knew anyone.
She couldn’t stand an imperfect image, probably because of her past, and that’s what you are.
You’re a reminder of everything she hated.
Everything she fought to bury about herself, so deep she didn’t even tell me. I’m so sorry.”
And I mean it, my heart hurts for this broken man who thought his sister loved him.
She might have, but I don’t think she had any intention of ever seeing him again.
Maybe it was her way of rebelling against her family for putting her in that psych ward in the first place, or maybe she truly cared for him… I guess I’ll never know.
“Get the letters!” He shouts, his voice breaking on the last word. “She wanted me.”
My whole body sags, “Val, what have you done?”
“Don’t you dare, she did not kill herself!” He screams, and spit flies from his mouth as tears start to stream down his face.
Placing my hand over his, he whips his head my way and looks at our hands.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Vincent.” If he’s been following me for years… How has he had time to grieve?
“Are you going to kill Indy now?” He asks, looking at me through the bars as his tears continue to run down his cheeks. “I tried to warn her, and if Molly wasn’t such a fucking idiot, she would have left you. She would have, she has to know!”
Shaking my head, I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I didn’t hurt Val, and I won’t ever hurt Indy.”
“But you did.” He spits, and I step back.
“No, Vincent, you did. You hurt them both.” Delivering it as softly as I can, I shake my head. “The threats, the damage to her business, her cabin? All of that hurts her, Vincent. And I didn’t do any of that.”
“I didn’t…” he hiccups, “but I, no–I–I didn’t.”
“You left me threatening messages, and told me you wanted something. Was it this? Did you want to know what happened that night?” I ask.
“I want you to admit what you did,” he cries, “I need to hear it. And you need to pay, like I did. She was all I had, and now I have nothing. I want you to have nothing.”
Shaking my head, I look down at my shoes before looking back up at him. “I didn’t hurt Val. I tried to carry her out, but she tried to stab me before I fell out of the window. She tried killing me.”
His hands fly up to his hair and his tears fall faster, as he spins and pulls at the strands mumbling incoherently. Crumpling to the concrete floor and wrapping his arms around his knees, he sobs, great giant heaves, and his back shakes with every inhale.
I’m not sure what more I can say, I have questions, but I don’t think he’s ever going to be able to answer them. Still, I sit with him while he cries, each of us on one side of the cell bars, while he grieves the sister he thought he knew.
After a while, his tears subside and he whispers, “I only wanted a confession. But then I saw how enamored Indy was becoming with you, and she was so kind to me. I couldn’t let the same thing happen to her. She’s good, pure.”
His hiccups dissolve, and he lays on the floor looking at the gray paint by my shoes.
“I thought the loft was for her, that’s why I put her message there.
When all the noise and police started, I panicked and cleaned it up.
Finn found my journal, he read most of it before I could stop him.
Told me he was going to tell you and the Turners about me.
I couldn’t let it end that way… I needed you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you did.
So I gave him the money he needed to disappear and made it look like he just left.
He felt like that kind of guy anyway. And it worked, until River found his clothes.
But I didn’t hurt him, the blood… it was a rabbit’s, it’s how I wrote the message in your cabin on the mirror. I’m not a monster.”
“Why didn’t you just come forward that night?” I ask, “Why do all of this?”
“You would have Just. Kept. Lying!” He screamed. “Lies! Lies! Lies! I’m so sick of all the lies.”
“If you didn’t want to hurt Indy, why would you set her cabin on fire?”
“No, no, that was all Molly,” he shakes his head, almost beating his skull against the cement.
“Molly?” I ask. “Why would she do that?”
“The moment I got to camp she latched onto me, like a parasite. It was convenient at first, because she did anything I asked, but then… she wouldn’t go away. She would make excuses so we’d have to work together and then she accused me of being obsessed with you. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“So, you didn’t hurt Molly?”
“I never touched her, she ran away all on her own. Good riddance.” He screams at me through choked sobs.
“And the barn?” I question.
“That wasn’t my fault, I just got so angry… I always get angry–angry–angry, and then bad things happen.” He hits his head, over and over, while he cries. I’m not sure there’s anymore to say, so I simply get up and walk to the door.
This all feels like something out of a soap opera, and somehow I was the only one who didn’t know their part.
“Will you tell Indy I’m sorry?” He chokes, rocking back and forth, but I don’t turn to acknowledge him. I just leave the room in a daze as the man who was determined to ruin my life breaks entirely, while I walk toward my future.