Episode 199
THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD
River
We walk along the beach, none of us speaking, until we’re far enough from the mansion that no one will hear us.
After Seb found Alex and brought him to us, Alex and Jake embraced like Seb and he had.
Until Brett broke them up and gritted out, “River, your time’s up.”
“Not here,” I said. “Somewhere private.”
“Fine.” Brett started walking. “We walk.”
Now we’re standing, barefoot, the water lapping at our feet.
Brett glares at me. “Well, Riv?”
It’s interesting that they’re all focused on me. What about Jake? He’s the one who left, who let them all think he was dead.
But they’re all so happy to see him. Who can blame them?
Where do I begin? How do I tell this story that began twenty years ago?
I’ve only seen Jake once since he took off. About ten years ago. I was in Miami on business, and I went to see him. We’ve been in contact since he left, and I sent him money a few times, but for the most part, he’s made it on his own.
It never seemed right.
The four of us are fucking billionaires. He should have reaped the benefit of that night.
Then again…he did kill a man.
It hasn’t slipped my mind that there’s no statute of limitations on murder.
But the police didn’t find any evidence of Marnie’s or Old Man Larson’s disappearance. They both just vanished into thin air. No fingerprints, no gunshot residue.
Nothing.
A cold case.
Marnie’s parents, of course, sent out an Amber alert and searched for their daughter for years.
She was never found.
The case got colder and colder until everyone accepted that she must be dead.
Only Jake and I know where she is.
And we’ll never talk.
So I ask myself now… How much can Jake and I divulge? I trust Brett, Alex, and Seb with my life, but…
The fewer people who know what happened all those years ago, the safer Jake is.
Which is why I’m rethinking bringing him here.
No one mourned Old Man Larson. He paid for what he did to Marnie—with his life.
“Enough, Riv,” Brett snaps, pulling me from my musing. His eyes are ice-cold, his jaw set. “We want answers.”
Jake shifts beside me, a silent plea in his gaze. I nod subtly. He agreed to come with me. He knew the risks.
“Jake did what he had to do,” I begin, my voice almost drowned by the ocean’s relentless waves.
Brett’s cheeks are red. “You owe us a lot more than that, Riv.”
I open my mouth but Jake gestures to me.
“This isn’t on Riv, Brett,” he says. “It’s on me.”
“Jake, how could you?” Alex asks. “We mourned you. We buried you. We found that damned hat you loved but never wore at the mouth of the river. How could you let us suffer like that?”
I take a step toward Alex. “Wait a minute, you don’t know what he’s been through. What happened. Why he had to leave.”
“Then why didn’t you just fucking leave?” Brett demands. “We would have at least known you were alive. We wouldn’t have—” He stops abruptly, choking up.
Jake doesn’t know how Brett felt about him. Neither do Alex and Seb. Hell, I only just found out. We had no idea. But that’s classic Brett. No one can compartmentalize quite like he can.
But all of us being together for this event—especially after Brett told me about his true feelings for Jake—made me realize that Jake deserves better. We all deserve better.
Especially Brett.
He deserves to know his lost love is alive.
Jake’s eyes are a battlefield—grief, guilt, and something even darker. His silence is heavy, screaming with everything he’s carried alone for years.
“Because sometimes death is easier than the truth,” Jake finally says.
“Easier for who?” Seb asks, his voice quiet but carrying over the sound of the waves. “For you? Or for us?”
“For everyone,” Jake says, his face twisting.
The silence doesn’t just settle—it crashes down, suffocating, a brutal void where words should be.
Brett finally breaks it. “Did it ever occur to you how your actions affect other people?” he spits, glaring at Jake. “That we have feelings too? That we cared about you?”
Jake flinches, as if the words aren’t just spoken but driven into him like a knife. Pain flickers across his face like he’s been struck and is too shattered to hide it.
“Brett’s right.” Alex’s voice is choked with tears. “You were our brother.”
Jake stands there, letting the words hit him like waves crashing against rock. I see it in his eyes—the years of guilt, of solitude, of carrying a burden none of us could have imagined back then. But he doesn’t defend himself. He doesn’t fight back.
Because there’s nothing to fight.
He did what he had to do. He and I both did.
“Say something,” Brett growls, his fists clenched at his sides. “Damn it, Jake, say something that makes this make sense.”
Jake exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair. He glances at me for a second before he looks out over the endless stretch of ocean. The sun casts shadows on the sand.
“I didn’t want to leave,” Jake finally says, his voice rough. “I didn’t want to disappear. But I had to.”
“Why?” Brett demands.
Jake hesitates, his jaw tightening. He’s weighing his words carefully, measuring the risk, calculating the fallout. “Marnie was gone. And by now you all know she was pregnant with my baby.”
Sebastian shifts beside Brett. “Marnie was gone, right. She was never found, Jake. Neither was Old Man Larson. What the fuck did you do?”
Jake’s face goes pale, his breath catching.
Alex nods. “You killed him, didn’t you?”
A muscle in Jake’s jaw twitches, but he doesn’t answer.
Brett takes a step forward. “That’s why you ran, isn’t it?”
Still, Jake says nothing.
The silence stretches long, thick with tension.
I can’t let him carry this alone.
“He didn’t just kill Old Man Larson,” I say, my voice steady despite the weight of the words. “We buried him. Together.”
Sebastian inhales sharply. Alex stiffens. Brett’s eyes darken with something unreadable.
But I’m not finished.
“And Marnie?” Brett asks, his voice hollow.
I hesitate.
Jake’s breath is shaky when he finally speaks. “She followed us that night.”
Brett’s face twists. “That motherfucker.”
The world stands still.
The only sound is the crash of waves, the call of distant gulls.
Brett staggers back a step as if he’s been punched.
Sebastian exhales sharply. “Jesus Christ.”
Alex shakes his head. “No,” he murmurs. “Tell me you’re lying.”
Jake doesn’t.
He just stands there, silent. Unmoving.
And I know, in this moment, that nothing will ever be the same again.