24. Sawyer
Sawyer
“Where the fuck are my shoes?” I’m frantic, my heart pounding, vision turning dark at the edges. Knox grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop.
“We can’t drive over there right now.”
“But my mom. That letter. I’m not just going to sit here.”
“I know, but think about it…if Moretti’s watching your apartment enough to hand deliver something, showing up there yourself is exactly what they want.
” His grip softens, thumb tracing over my pulse point.
“Let’s call her back, make sure she’s okay.
But we can’t be seen going back to your place, not with everything happening right now. ”
Every instinct in me is screaming to tell him to fuck off and go anyway, but he’s right, and I hate it. I sit back down on the edge of the bed, knee vibrating, and dial before I can talk myself out of listening to him.
She picks up on the first ring. “Sawyer! Oh, thank God, where have you—”
“Are you okay, Mom? That man, he didn’t hurt you?”
“What? No. Of course not. He was just a delivery man. What in the world is going on?”
Knox squeezes my hand. “I’m okay, Mom, I promise. I’m just staying with a friend for a bit.”
“A friend? Which friend? Why? What’s going on—”
“A new friend. I met her at school.” I close my eyes, hating how easily the lie slips out. “That envelope you were talking about. Please don’t open it. I’ll come get it soon, just don’t touch it, okay?”
She’s quiet for too long, which tells me she’s gearing up for another round of questioning. “Sawyer, what is going on with you?”
“I’ll explain everything soon. I promise. Love you, Mom.” I hang up before she can push harder, guilt curdling low in my stomach the second the call ends.
Knox opens his arms and I fall into them without a word. I can’t take much more of this. Either we settle this shit together, or I do it solo. Either way, I’m getting my life back.
The next several days blur together in a strange, tense rhythm.
Knox disappears for hours at a time. Legal meetings, Ella placating, the shuffling he has to keep up at home and work without arousing suspicions.
Meanwhile, I stay tucked away at Miriam’s, building whatever case I can from a distance.
Gia’s become my partner in crime, ferrying documents back and forth between me and our instructor, Irene, who agreed to look over the paperwork without asking too many questions about why a student is suddenly obsessed with old case files.
I wanted to get her opinion before I brought it all to my lawyers.
Knox contacted an attorney he trusts, someone who used to work for his family before falling out with Richard, and slowly, piece by piece, we start building something that somewhat resembles a case.
It’s fucking exhausting. But it’s also keeping me going. Without it, I’d be pacing these four walls, slowly losing my shit.
Then there’s the wedding date looming over the whole thing. I have no idea how we’ll get out of that with it being so close. Every time I try to talk to Knox about it, he says he’s handling it.
I’m too stressed to argue.
By the end of the week, I start to feel like this house is a cell.
I stare at my phone, knowing I’m about to fuck up, but willing to take the risk for both my sanity and to get that letter.
I text my mom to meet me at a little diner I found online.
It’s two towns over, somewhere we’ve never been. It should be safe.
I have to Uber there after walking through the woods to a pick up spot. Knox is probably going to flip when he figures out I left. Knowing him, he’s tracking me again, and will know I’ve left sooner rather than later.
Mom’s already waiting in a booth when I arrive. As soon as she spots me, she’s up and pulling me into a tight hug. My eyes get damp. I can’t help it. It’s nice to see her.
That’s short-lived, though. The second she opens her mouth, I regret coming.
“You look tired.” She pulls back to scrutinize me. “What the hell is going on with you?”
I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion, the fear, or the sheer relief of finally being able to say it out loud to someone I trust, but words come tumbling out of me at once.
I tell her about Knox and me, and what’s happened between us since the accident. That we’ve been together, in every sense of the word, for weeks now. That it’s complicated in so many more ways than I’d ever imagined.
Her face goes through the gamut of emotions, but she stays quiet…for now.
I tell her about the real cause of the accident. That Dad remembered details, that he flagged the danger years before Velocity ever opened, and that Richard buried it. That the man everyone in Ashford worships as a saint is the reason Owen’s dead, and now he’s trying to silence me.
She covers her mouth and curses under her breath. “Oh my God.”
“That’s not even the half of it,” I say, playing with the edge of the menu to give my hands something to do. “I don’t want you to worry, okay? We’ve got this handled.”
“You’ve got it handled?” She lets out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “Sawyer, you’re telling me Richard Aldrich is trying to silence you, and I’m supposed to just not worry? You don’t know that man like I do.”
“I need you to trust me on this.” I push the menu to the side and meet her eyes. “The less you know about the specifics, the safer you are. I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but I have to. Please, Mom.”
Her jaw tightens, reminding me of the Mom who used to fiercely stand in the way of anything or anyone trying to hurt me. “I don’t like this.”
I shake my head. “I don’t either. It’s fucking insanity. But it’s already in motion, and we’re doing something about it instead of just giving in.”
“You mean, you and Knox?”
“Yes.” I brace for her full reaction now.
Mom loved Owen. She had every reason to.
He was the only one who was there for us through the worst years of our lives.
He was our rock. And Knox…well, she probably doesn’t have anything good to say about him over the last few years.
But I know she loved him like a son once, and that love is still there somewhere, hidden behind a wall of pain.
The server comes to take our order, both of us just asking for coffees.
As soon as she steps away, Mom places her hands on the table, fidgeting with her cuticles.
“I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with this.
Owen was so good to us. Better than good.
And Knox, the last few years, he’s been so angry, so shut off.
I stopped recognizing the boy I used to babysit half the summer. ”
“That’s still him, Mom. Underneath it all. And Owen…” I hesitate, not wanting to sully her opinion of the boy she adored. “He wasn’t perfect.”
The server pours our coffee into mugs and I focus on adding milk and sugar. Her eyes are damp when I look back up at her. I’m about to ask if she’s okay, when she wraps her hands around her mug and responds.
“Maybe Knox is still that boy, but Baby Girl, I need to tell you something. Something I’m not proud of.”
I reach for her hand, and she covers it with her own. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Just listen.” I nod, and she exhales long and hard.
“After everything happened with your father, when the whole town turned against us, I made some mistakes.” Her eyes stay fixed on the table between us.
“Richard and I had an affair. It didn’t last long, just a few months.
We were both drowning in the mess your father made. Neither of us was thinking straight.”
She pauses, and I pull my hand back. This should be hitting me harder, but somehow it’s not all that shocking. It’s terrible, and wrong, but it makes sense. Except Richard was never a victim. He took advantage of her pain and I hate him even more now.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I’m scared for you…being with Knox. And I need you to understand why.”
She brings the mug to her lips with a shaky hand, sipping slow. A part of me wants to ask for the letter and leave. I don’t want details about her affair. My God. Does my father know? Did Owen? Knox? I can’t deal with this right now along with everything else.
“I did it to hurt your father. I know that’s true now.
But that wasn’t the whole reason. I was so tired of feeling small next to Victoria.
Not just her, but that whole family, that whole town, looking at us like we were nothing after everything we’d built together.
I thought if I could have some piece of what they had, I’d stop feeling like less than them. ”
“Did it work?”
“No.” She finally looks up, eyes wet. “It made me feel so much worse. Smaller and broken. I’d given up a piece of myself I could never get back.”
“Mom, I’m not you and Knox isn’t his father. This isn’t the same thing.”
“I know that. I do, but that family has a way of making the people around them feel like they have to shrink themselves just to survive being close to them. I need you to promise me you won’t let loving Knox cost you the parts of yourself that make you you. Not the way it cost me.”
I get up and slide in next to her, wrapping my arm around her slim shoulder in a side hug. “I promise.”
As she hugs me back, I replay her words, wondering if I already have let Knox take pieces of me, or maybe it started with Owen. Mom is so strong yet so broken, and holding her in my arms right now, I tell myself I’ll never get to this. I refuse to let an Aldrich break me again.
An hour or so later, I’m back in an Uber, envelope in hand. Mom kept her word and didn’t open it, although I had to field a ton of questions about what it is. With the affair bombshell dropped she was much easier to placate though, probably too drained and lost in her own regrets to put up a fight.
I try to hold off until I’m back at the guesthouse, but this thing is like a weight in my lap. I break the seal carefully, and pull out the contents.
There’s a check in my name from some company called A.M. Holdings. I gasp when I see the amount. That’s a lot of zeroes.
The only other item is a letter. I unfold it and read.
Miss Thorne,
Enclosed is a full and final settlement. Deposit it and this is over. No lawsuits, no press, no digging into matters that don’t concern you. This is more than enough to change your life.
I’m also aware you and my son continue to see each other, against every warning already given. Consider this the last one. Whatever you think you’re doing with him ends now, or I promise you’ll regret it.
You’re a smart girl. Take the money and walk away.
Richard Aldrich
I fold it and shove it back in the envelope with shaking hands, taking one more look at the check.
He’s right, this is more than enough to change my life.
I could move anywhere, go to any school I wanted, start a new life.
Leave Ashford and the glares and whispers.
Never see another of those assholes again.
I could let him win.
My father’s sitting in a cell, carrying the blame for a crime that wasn’t fully his.
Owen and so many others are dead because he cared more about lining his own pockets than doing his damn job.
And Mom, she spent years hating my father, holding Richard on some pedestal when he’s been fooling us all.
Everyone in this town crossed the street when they saw us coming. Acted like we had a contagious disease.
And Knox…every bruise on his ribs, every lie he’s had to tell just to survive one more day under that roof.
Richard thinks he can toss around his money to buy my silence, that I’ll fold and go quietly. That he’s already won.
He has no idea who he’s dealing with.
I rip the check in half, then tear those pieces again, satisfaction blooming in my chest. He can keep his dirty money. I’m not the scared girl he saw crying after her father in a courtroom. And I’m not the weak one in a hospital bed, grieving his son who spent years lying to me.
I’ve got the truth now, real evidence—my father who’s finally ready to talk, and Knox beside me who’s not afraid to defy his father anymore.
Richard Aldrich is about to learn that some things don’t stay buried just because you’re rich enough to buy the world.
I’m riding the high, pieces of paper scattered across my lap like confetti, when the driver breaks hard, jolting me forward.
He holds down his horn, cursing. “Some asshole just cut me off.”
A black Jeep sits at an angle in front of us, blocking the lane. I know it’s Knox immediately and I don’t know whether to be relieved or irritated. My heart does a little flip though, answering for me.
The driver’s door flies open and Knox strides over to us, his aviators hiding most of his face.
He wrenches my door open before I can even reach for the handle, and the second he sees me, he lifts his glasses onto his head.
I brace for anger. For him to ream me out for leaving.
But there’s only relief in his expression.
“You’re okay. Thank God.”