Chapter Twenty-Two
Brooklyn
If the Secret Service weren’t right here, I might consider murdering James. How could he keep this from me?
I’m holding Kip’s hand so tight I’m probably hurting him. I’m mad at him too, but I can’t explain it, I want him here. I need him beside me for this conversation.
“Why don’t we sit?” James says.
Kip and I sit down on the couch across from James.
“Well.” I’m shooting daggers with my eyes at him.
“I've had private investigators looking into all your backgrounds for years. Each one of you. We all came from bad home lives, Brooklyn. I wanted to make sure everyone was safe, so I’ve hired my own investigators. They were able to find traces of your mom over the years, but she kept moving before we could make contact with her. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to get your hopes up. ”
I slump a little on the sofa. Kip puts his hand on my leg and squeezes it gently. I notice James’ eyes flick to Kip’s hand and then back to my face. It’s none of his damn business, so he’d better look away.
“Well?”
“My investigators lost her trail a few years ago.”
“Did you know she had a daughter?” I say.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t.”
“James, I have a sister, and she’s living in that home...with him.”
His jaw tightens.
I blow out a rush of air, and then I turn to Kip.
“My mom remarried when I was three. My stepfather was abusive - to us and to her. She tried taking us to a shelter once, but he found her after she left. When I was eight, my mom sent me to a neighbor for the night. While I was gone, my stepfather killed my older brother. I don’t know exactly what happened or what set him off, but my brother was only ten years old. ”
I pause for a moment. My memories are so hazy from my childhood, but I remember my stepfather clearly. I remember him hitting us. I remember him hitting my mom. I remember him choking my mother when he was really angry.
Kip slides his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer to him. “I’m so sorry.”
I breathe in deeply and then continue, “They disappeared that night. My mom and my stepdad. Everyone assumed he murdered her. Maybe a murder/suicide, but they vanished.”
I take another shaky breath. I don’t talk about any of this very often for a reason.
“I was put in foster care. That’s how I ended up with my siblings.”
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ears before continuing.
“I hired a private investigator last year because I started to have questions. I wondered what happened to her. I wanted answers. I wanted to know if she had really died, and if she was alive, what happened to her. I know she wouldn’t have gone with my stepfather by choice. ”
“What did he find?” James asks. He’s leaning forward.
“He found a few traces of them. They’ve moved all over the country, but they found that she had a baby - a girl about eight years ago. She’s the same age I was when they disappeared.”
James nods slowly, taking this in.
“I have a sister.”
His face softens.
“And she’s in trouble, James,” I continue. “She’s living with him. She’s not safe. Neither of them is. I have to find them.”
“And your investigator traced them here?” he asks.
“Yes, I found some arrest records of his known associates, so I knew I was close, and then I found some property records in one of his aliases.”
“The house?” Kip says.
I nod. “I found an address outside of town. It’s abandoned. They aren’t there anymore, but I know they were there. I know it for certain.”
“How?” James rests his elbows on his legs.
“Hang on.” I stand up and rush back to the bedroom. I come back with the brush in my hand. I hand it to James.
“It was my mother’s. It originally belonged to my grandmother. I remember it. I’m certain it’s the same one. I found it in the house. I know she was there, and not that long ago. I’m so close, but...”
I slump back down onto the couch. “But the trail has run cold. I don’t know where to go from here.”
“And the blood,” Kip says.
“What blood?” James asks.
“It looked like someone had been murdered in the bedroom,” I say quietly. I can’t make eye contact with him.
Kip clears his throat. “Looks like a gunshot. Blood splatter on the walls.”
“No body?”
“No body,” Kip answers.
I glance up at James. He’s rubbing his hand over his mouth and chin.
“I can help,” he says, softly. “I can help if you’ll let me.”
I feel a tear escape my eye and roll down my cheek. I nod. “Yes.”
He leans back and exhales loudly.
“Yes, you can help.”
“And you won’t interfere until I know it’s safe.” His eyes still burn with just a tinge of anger.
I nod.
“We’ll find her.”
Kip’s arm is around me again. The patio door opens, and Declan sticks his head in. “Can we come in now?”
“Yes,” James motions them in.
Everyone is chattering, and I look over at Kip. He’s just taking in the whole scene.
“Brooklyn, I have one question,” Eli says.
“What?”
“How did you get into Alaska?”
I feel the blood draining from my face.
“Yes, Brooklyn, I’ve been really curious about this too.” James leans forward. “How did you get across the border?”
I pause for a moment and then say, “I refuse to answer that question on the grounds I might incriminate myself.”
Eli laughs loudly, and James rolls his eyes. “Did you really just plead the Fifth right now?”
I don’t answer, and he continues, “I’m going to find out.”
My eyes dart over to Zadie. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“Seriously?” James says. “I’m not literally the legal system.”
“Yeah. You kinda are.” Zadie speaks up. “Yes. I’ll represent you, and I’m advising my client not to answer any more of your questions. You can arrange with my office to bring her in for questioning if...”
“Good Lord,” James mutters and holds up his hands. “I get the idea.”
Olivia yawns.
“Where are we going to stay tonight?” Zadie changes the subject. “The pregnant women are fading fast.”
“It’s hours past my bedtime,” Olivia agrees.
“You can stay here,” Kip says. I turn to face him.
“Are you sure?” I whisper.
“The upstairs is huge. It will fit everyone.”
“We’ll have to have the Secret Service check everything first, but I think it will work. Thank you,’ James replies.
He nods and then leans into me. “Will you take them upstairs? I don’t go up there.”
I study his face for a moment. I’d really like him to unpack this, but I know now isn’t the moment.
“Sure.” I squeeze his hand.
The Secret Service does a sweep of the whole house. There’s still a small army outside. Once everyone is settled, Kip starts turning off the lights. I grab his hand and lead him back to the bedroom. Once the door is shut, I say, “Elliott Wells.”
His face flushes just slightly.
“Pretentious,” I continue.
He shakes his head.
“Contrived,” I add.
“Self-righteous and hypocritical. I stand by my statements,” he grins.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I say. I’m hurt. I know with everything I’ve done I have no right, but I never pretended like I was being honest.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Brooklyn?” he responds.
“You know why,” I say. “Why would you care if I knew about your writing career?”
“I’m not that person anymore.” He flicks his eyes away from mine and then continues quietly. “I don’t write anymore.”
Well, this has opened the floodgates for me. “Why?”
He sighs heavily. “Brooklyn, tonight has been a lot. I really don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“Okay,” I say, taking his hand. “I’d like to know though.”
“I’m sorry about your mom.” His eyes are on me again.
I tilt my head up to the ceiling. “She’s the same age I was when they disappeared.”
“Your sister?”
I nod.
“That house. How filthy it was. The doll - just one filthy doll. The constant violence. That was me. That could have been my life forever.”
He doesn’t say a word but pulls me into his body and wraps his arms around me.
“I got lucky - you don’t understand. My brother was killed, and I survived.
I couldn’t have landed in a better foster care home.
I gained this whole amazing family and had this life that most people dream about, and she’s still stuck.
My mom is stuck. It’s not fair. I didn’t do anything to deserve what I have now, and they didn’t do anything to deserve the awful life that they have now. ”
He squeezes me tighter. “Are you mad they found you?”
I sigh and lean into him. “Yes and no.”
I pull back, so I can look at him. “I wish they’d let me be my own person sometimes. I love them so much. They are the best family, but my opinions get lost. A lot of decisions have been made for me. I just wanted to do something for myself - to prove I could do it, to be my own person.”
I bury my hands in my face. “I didn’t succeed, did I?”
He pulls my hands away. “Don’t say that. You tracked them here, didn’t you? Your brother didn’t even do that.”
I bite my lip and exhaustion washes over me. I stifle a yawn.
“Let’s go to bed. You’re exhausted,” he says, taking my hand.
I don’t argue. He helps me undress and pulls me into bed. I fall asleep listening to the sound of him breathing.