Page 128 of Last Seen
“Don’t make me say it, Halley.”
She realizes what he thinks. “I didn’t sleep with him, Theo. It was a kiss. That’s all.”
“What?” The relief cascades out of him. “The asshole didn’t say that.”
Halley looks out over the parking lot to the misty mountains in the distance. She thinks about Noah, knowing there is absolutely zero chance at a future between them. She does not belong here, and she is not going to stay. The moment she is cleared, she is taking Gray and leaving. She will have to see him again sometime, though. Gray is his nephew, too, after all.
But she knows how she feels about Theo. It’s always been Theo. When she saw him emerge from the haze of the fire, the fear on his face, the relief, she knew there was no other person she could ever be with. It might be bumpy. It might not work. But he is the one.
“We can try going home,” she says. “But we have to ask Gray what he wants, first.”
“Fair enough.” Theo drops her hand. “I have something for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Letters. We found them in the tunnels. They’re going to be tied up in evidence for a long while, because we’ve got a pretty solid idea of the terrors that were going on below Brockville. And she gave us a couple of other tidbits. The farm? Massive graveyard. When Ian finished with his women, he buried them under the fucking crops. They’ve recovered four bodies so far, matched them to missing persons cases. There are more. The guy was a freaking loon.”
Halley thinks about the words Heather spoke in the dark. “Need to bury the ashes of the ones we’ve lost. Purify them.”
She wasn’t just crazy. She was hoping the fire would set the souls of his victims free.
“What about his dad?”
“Well, that’s a good question. Multiple jurisdictions want to talk to him, but surprise surprise, we’ve been told to lay off and let the man grieve. He’s been rocked by this, apparently. His dead son coming back to life, having a coven of women right below his very feet? That his very special anechoic chamber was being used as some medieval torture room?”
Halley shudders. The darkness creeps in when she isn’t expecting it. She has to keep looking toward the light so she doesn’t slip back in.
“Sorry. Listen, though. The letters? I took some photos. It seems she was telling a story. Writing a pretty disturbing memoir, one of the guys said. She detailed everything, names, places, times. He had her in thrall, but she subverted him whenever she could. She wasn’t kidding when she says she did it all for you. You sure you want to read these? They’re pretty awful.”
“Yes. I need to know.”
He hands her his phone. There are pictures of the letters. They tell the story of what Cat went through at the hands of her captor, what he turned her into. How the power he had over her was absolute, because everything she did was to keep Halley safe. He knew Halley had livedthrough that first attack in Nashville, when he killed their mother, and he used her as a bargaining chip. She became the monster he wanted her to be.
Halley swipes through, reading a sentence here and a paragraph there, her sorrow building with each word. The pictures tell a disjointed tale but are enough to make her understand her sister better, and perhaps allow her heart a step toward healing.
You cannot possibly understand what has happened, but I want to try and explain. Mom is dead, and it is my fault.
There were too many voices in my head, too many paths I was forced to follow.
I thought I loved him.
He took one look at you and I saw something in his eyes that terrified me. He lost all interest in me. All he wanted was you. He said come here. Come here to me. And you went to him. He cuddled you and said can I see your room? You were so young. So pure. You did not realize what he wanted from you. I did. And I said no. I grabbed your arm and I pulled you away from him. We fought. He hit me. He left and I thought we were safe.
Then Mom came home, and she knew something was wrong. We talked and I told her I was afraid of him. That I was afraid for you. And he came back. This time, he had a knife. He was going to take you by force. Mom stepped in between you, and he stabbed her. I think he was surprised at how quickly she died.It was like she was there one minute, and the next, poof, she was gone. Her eyes were wide and she fell on the floor.
I screamed, and you screamed, and he laughed. He laughed at us, at our pain. He tried to kill you, and somehow you survived.
Then he said if he could not have you he would take me in your place. I had no choice but to leave with him. He told me if I did not say I killed Mom and make them believe it, he would go back for you.
I know what you’ve been told, but one day you will want to know who really killed your mother. His name is Ian. Ian Brockton. And I will hunt him down and kill him for what he did to our family. I will keep you safe.
Everything I did, I did for you.
But then, I found myself pregnant. I had to make sure my son wouldn’t be marked by the madness of his mother and his father.
There is nothing harder than losing a child.
When my son was taken from me, I had no choice anymore. I had to find a way out. I had to leave. I had to stop him.
