“Oh, thank fuck.” I lean down and kiss her mouth, pulling her body to rest on mine. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I think.”
I move her up and place my hands on her jaw, forcing her to look me dead in the eyes. “You swear you’re okay?”
She nods, but she groans as she does.
“Don’t move,” I order, holding her still so she doesn’t hurt herself. “Don’t move until I know you’re okay.”
Her wrists are raw, bruised, and cut in places. Red-hot anger fills me. Death was too quick for Brad.
But Payton, my Payton, is too fixed on me to think about him.
“You love me?” she asks again.
I press my forehead to hers. “I do.”
“I love you, too.”
“I know.”
She chuckles at that, and I’m sure if she were feeling better, she would fire back a witty retort. Instead, she leans into my body and lets out a sigh.
As she does, Lorenzo strolls into the house.
He takes inventory of the dead body beside us, followed by the pool of blood slinking our way. “I see you couldn’t wait . . .”
I lift a brow. “Nope.”
He takes stock of the rest of the room, fixing on an open door with a bloodstain in the shape of Payton’s tiny hand on it. “And now I have to clean up your shit.”
“Yep.”
“Ass . . .”
“My sister, Erin, is in the basement.” Payton looks sheepish. “I think I kind of knocked her out.”
Lorenzo looks at Payton and nods at her with appreciation.
“I like her. She can stay,” he says to me, and I narrow my eyes before he laughs loudly and moves to find Erin.
“What will he do?” she asks after he disappears down to the basement.
“We’re better off not knowing.”
She nods.
I’m not sure how this will end yet, but I know Payton will be by my side.
And I know I wouldn’t have gotten here without that letter.
I forgive you, Dad.
Epilogue
Payton
* * *
Twenty-two.
I’m finally twenty-two.
Guess I made it.
The past few months have been a hell of a ride.
Not just because I almost died, twice, but also because in the end, I didn’t let Lorenzo just cover up the crime.
That would have been too easy for Erin.
We decided this pathway was for the best. We needed to move through the events as they happened. Not bury them deep and let the lies fester like they had in both our lives before we met.
Similar to what his mom said in the atrium the day I talked to her for the first time, we needed all the secrets we found after Ronnie’s death to come out in the daylight. That way, we could now start fresh and clean.
No secrets.
It wasn’t easy telling him about how Erin had wanted to sell me, nor was it easy having to relive the day Tony died. I admitted to years of guilt I had for my sister having to take his life. I always thought she had done it to protect me, but now knowing the truth, I have made my own peace with what happened that day. It was never my fault.
It was always Erin.
And we were lucky because Erin confessed to everything.
There would be no pain of a trial.
She will be in jail for the rest of her life.
Today, the calendar says another fresh start.
Today is the day the money transfers into my name.
I’m sure Trent is wondering what I’m going to do with it, but I already know, and now I’m off to tell him.
It’s Tuesday, so I know exactly where he is right now.
When we were at the lawyer’s office earlier, I didn’t mention my plan.
It didn’t seem right to talk about this big step in front of Mr. Baker.
It takes me only twenty minutes to get to Cresthill. Cresthill, the place I now know Trent owns. Yep. That came out too, this year.
A fact that made me fall even more in love with him.
When I walk through the doors, I smile broadly to myself.
This is the right decision.
I find him where I knew I would.
In the atrium, kneeling on the ground with his mother.
They’re in the middle of a row of plants, fussing over the leaves.
She sees me first, stands, and wipes her dirt-covered hands on her pants before waving to me.
The movement makes Trent stop what he’s doing and look in my direction. He places a small shovel down, stands, and strides to me. The moment he is standing in front of me, he looks down at me and places a kiss on my lips.
His thumb lingers on my lips, tracing the bottom one. “I thought you were going to the bank.”
“Been there, done that.” I smile coyly.
“You’re a very rich woman now.”
“Nope. I’m not . . .”
He lifts a brow, clearly not understanding what I am trying to say. I reach into my purse and pull out the check I made out to Cresthill.