Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Henry
It took several long moments for the shock of Blake’s statement to wear off.
I struggled to believe it, especially when I didn’t believe anything in life was a coincidence.
And the fact that Sarah’s birth mother was the same woman Blake had been searching for was a big fucking coincidence.
Or plot twist. Or whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. I didn’t even know at this point.
All I did know was that this was the last thing I expected to learn when I stormed into the pool house mere minutes ago.
“All this time…” Blake’s voice cut through the silence, pulling me back to the present. “I could have found her if I’d…” He trailed off, his expression becoming solemn. “Wait. Didn’t you say she…”
I nodded, knowing what she was getting at.
“About five years ago. Cancer.”
He closed his eyes, regret covering the lines on his face. “Did she… Was she…”
“She didn’t suffer. All she cared about was knowing our daughter, that Sarah had the life she deserved. It’s why she felt so strongly about giving her up,” I explained.
And now that I knew about her past, I understood it even more. She didn’t want Sarah to grow up in the same kind of environment she had. With a father about to age out of the foster care system and a teenage mom not far behind, it was too risky.
“I should punch you for knocking up my fucking sister,” Blake remarked through the tightness in his voice. Then he lifted his eyes to meet mine. “But I’m glad she had you.”
“We were young and stupid. I didn’t know what love was back then. Hell, I still don’t know if I do. But Amber… Chandler… I cared about her.”
He nodded, seeming to absorb this. “Was she happy?”
“As happy as any teenager could be. She had a strength I admired. She loved to draw. Paint.”
Blake’s eyes lit up. “She did?”
“I often skipped class and snuck down to the art room to watch her.”
He sighed, finding comfort in this. “She loved that when we were kids, too. Always had a sketchpad in her hand until…” He swallowed hard, guilt overtaking him once more.
“I’m sorry you never got to see her again,” I offered sincerely, despite having been pointing a gun at him mere minutes ago.
“Me, too. But I’m glad you knew her. Glad I can finally have closure.” He exhaled a long sigh, hanging his head. “I just wish I could help you figure out where Ariana is. But I killed Isaac over twenty years ago. He’s dead.”
I pinched my lips together, wracking my brain for an answer. If Isaac was dead, who would paint the exact same symbol in Ariana’s blood at the stables? It didn’t make sense. Unless…
“You said Isaac broke people, right? That he brainwashed others into believing the shit he preached. It’s how you earned his trust. You made him think you were a believer.”
“I did…,” Blake drew out.
“Right.” I jumped to my feet, pacing the length of the room. “What if this guy is like you? Well, not exactly like you. But someone Isaac groomed?”
He considered my theory for a moment. “It’s possible.”
“At this point, possible sounds fucking amazing.”
“That still won’t help us find Ariana. Who knows how many people Isaac got his hands on over the years and branded as his. I was there for nearly four years. In that time, I probably saw hundreds of kids come and go.”
“True, but how many were there when you killed Isaac?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I just… I’ve kind of blocked out that time in my life, ya know?”
“I get it. But try to think.”
“I don’t know. I just…” He looked at me with a pained expression.
It was so different from the emotionless one he typically wore. As if nothing could ever get under his skin. In reality, he was as fucked up as me. Maybe even more so.
“The shit we had to do… It’s like there’s a wall blocking me from remembering anything.”
“Just try. Better yet… You killed him and escaped. Do you remember where you escaped from? Or how long the drive was when you first went to his house? Where were you living when you met him? Where was this convenience store?”
“Just outside of Fort Myers.”
“What about the car ride? How long was it?”
He pinched his lips together. “I can’t be sure. Maybe thirty minutes. But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s been over twenty years.”
“But it’s something. And right now, I’ll take something over nothing.” I moved toward the kitchen table and sat down, firing up Blake’s laptop, my fingers flying over the keyboard. “Can you remember anything else about it?”
“Not really. It was so long ago. I can’t even remember how far I walked after I killed him. Hours probably. I think I took a bus, too, since I eventually ended up in Philly. I just…”
“Can you tell me if it was in a residential community or a bit more remote?”
“Remote. Definitely remote. There were underground passages leading to the chapel, although it was more like a dungeon than a place of worship. Other than that, I can’t remember much. I’m trying, Henry. Really, I am.”
I glanced over my shoulder at him. “It’s okay. It’s a start. We’ll find this bastard. And when we do, we’ll make him pay.”