Epiphany (Legacy of Payne) (24 page)

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Authors: Christina Jean Michaels

BOOK: Epiphany (Legacy of Payne)
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“You’re so warm,” I mumbled.

“You’re freezing.” Aidan engulfed me in his arms and brought his lips to my ear. “What were you thinking?” He inched away and peered into my eyes. “I saw a white van parked a couple blocks down the street.”

I shuddered. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I was upset.” I closed my eyes as the implications hit me. White vans weren’t exactly rare, but . . . what if?

“We can’t afford to be reckless, Mackenzie.”

“I know.”

Joe pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” I asked.

His blue eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, and an instant later he barreled out of the car, slamming the door in his wake.

Micah turned to face us, brows raised. “Thanksgiving’s are never dull. See you guys inside.” He grabbed the Cool Whip and disappeared into the house after Joe.

Raindrops pelted the roof of Aidan’s car. In that moment, sitting next to him surrounded by the howl of the wind and the pattering of rain, a surreal peacefulness settled over me. I burst out laughing, as if a pressure valve had been released.

Aidan arched a brow. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just realized you let my ex drive your car. You must really love me.” Grasping a handful of his jacket, I pulled him down with me onto the backseat. All traces of laughter died.

“How much of that scene back there did you see?”

“Well,” he began, brushing a lock of stray hair from my eyes, “when I pulled over it looked like you were beating the shit out of him.”

“I don’t know what came over me. I was just so . . . angry.”

“And hurt.” Aidan frowned. “Do you still love him?”

I gnawed on my lower lip and searched for an honest answer. “He’ll always hold a small piece of my heart, Aidan.” I slid my fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. “But I am so in love with you, it’s ridiculous.”

He let out a breath. “If we weren’t parked in your mother’s driveway, I’d have no problem steaming up these windows.”

“I think we can steal a minute,” I said before tugging his mouth down on mine.

* * *
 

Joe reminded me of a wounded puppy. He spent some time chatting with my mom, but once she disappeared into the kitchen to finish dinner, he was left with nothing to do but stare at me. He finally gave up and left.

Mackayla grabbed my hand and pulled me up from the couch. “C’mon.”

I sent Aidan a pleading look, but he and Micah were in the middle of an intense discussion about college football. He shot me an infuriatingly wide grin as my sister dragged me away. He wasn’t about to save me from my family.

“Tell me all about him,” Mackayla demanded once we were out of earshot of the living room. “Is he good in the sack?”

“Mackayla!”

She waved away my indignation. “You went through hell after you and Joe split. I’m just glad to see a smile on your face again.”

“Can we not talk about Joe?”

Michael ran past, followed by Mason. They were in the middle of a heated game of tag.

“Who’s talking about Joe?” Mackayla asked once the coast was clear. “I thought we were talking about Aidan and how good he is in the sack?” She wiggled her eyebrows, and I was suddenly reminded of Six. I’d never realized how much the two of them were alike—had been alike.

A mixer buzzed to life. I peeked into the kitchen and saw Mom busy at work with a gigantic bowl of mashed potatoes. Satisfied our conversation wouldn’t be overheard, I turned back to my sister. “He’s amazing. I’ve never felt this way before.”

“You’re in love with him.”

“Crazy in love with him,” I agreed. “He makes me happy.”

“You look happy, but I wish you’d come home. Talk about a bad time to move to Mom’s hometown. We’re worried about you.”

“Aidan doesn’t let me out of his sight. You have nothing to worry about.” I couldn’t quite meet her gaze. My family had no idea how close the Hangman had zeroed in on me, and I wanted to keep it that way.

The mixer shut off in the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost done,” Mom announced.

“Need some help?” I asked.

She smiled. “Sure. I want to talk to you anyway.”

And here it comes. Mackayla gave me a sympathetic pat on the back before I entered the kitchen. “What is it, Mom?”

She didn’t look up from the stove where she was stirring gravy. “I wanted to talk to you about Joe.”

I crossed my arms. “I didn’t come here to talk about him.” I hadn’t come here to see him either, but that hadn’t stopped her.

“I don’t get you,” she began. “You guys have always been so close, and he’s going through a lot right now with his dad—”

“Mom—” I interrupted. “Joe and I aren’t getting back together.”

“I didn’t raise you to turn your back on the people who care about you.”

“I didn’t turn my back. He did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I was not getting into this with my mother on Thanksgiving. “Do you want me to put the rolls in the oven?”

Pursing her lips, she picked up two packages and handed them to me, and I began arranging them on baking sheets.

“What’s going on with you, Kenz? You left so suddenly, and now you come home a few weeks later with a man you barely know?”

“That man has stuck by me through a lot. You have no idea.”

“Joe has stuck by you. I don’t understand how you can cast him aside when he needs you most.” Her voice shook. “He doesn’t deserve—”

“I didn’t deserve to be lied to my entire life, but that didn’t stop you.” I dropped the rolls into the oven and slammed the door shut.

“I did it to protect you.”

“From William Beckmeyer? That’s great, Mom. I could’ve had a father, but there’s no chance of that happening now, is there? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was for the best.”

“Did he . . . did he not want me? Is that why you didn’t tell me?”

She turned around and grabbed the counter, and her shoulders slumped. “After your father”—she shook her head—“I mean after Tom died, I lost myself, did some stupid things. It was one time, one mistake, but I don’t regret it because it brought me you. I never told anyone who he was. Everyone believed what they wanted to, and it was easier to let them.”

Something cold fisted my heart. “What are you trying to say?”

“Will wasn’t your father.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“People assumed he was because we’d been high school sweethearts back in the day, and he was a good friend to me after Tom died. But the rumors destroyed his marriage, and I just . . . left like a coward before you were born.”

She went to the stove and removed the vegetables from the burner. I was struck speechless. Marcus entered the kitchen before I could question her further.

“I’ll carve the turkey.” He lifted the platter and disappeared through the door leading into the dining room. One by one, everyone trickled in and carried the varying dishes to the table.

Mom pulled me into a quick hug. “We’ll talk more later.”

I was still in a fog when we all sat down at the huge oak table in the dining room. When it was my turn to say what I was thankful for, Aidan laced his fingers with mine to bring me out of my stupor.

His brows furrowed. “You okay?”

I smiled. “I’m thankful for new beginnings.”

Everyone fell into comfortable conversation after that. Alicia talked about the baby, Marcus mentioned his work in the state’s capital, Micah had us in stitches over some funny stories involving his EMT coworkers, and Mackayla complained about the restaurant she worked at and how mean her boss was. Mom was still miserable but making decent money at the law firm where she worked as a paralegal.

Halfway through dinner, as the twins were giggling and using their straws to blow bubbles in their drinks, Mom engaged Aidan in the lets-get-to-know-each-other conversation I’d been dreading. “What do you do for a living, Aidan?”

“At the moment, I work with Mackenzie. I’m kind of on a prolonged leave from the paper I worked for in Boise.”

Marcus, sitting directly across from me, took a sudden interest. “Did you cover the Hangman stories?”

I jumped in, wanting to distract from that particular subject. “What is this, an interrogation?” I joked.

“I’m certainly not interrogating your boyfriend, Kenz. I just find it interesting that he lived in Boise, considering what’s happened in Watcher’s Point recently.” Forks scraped against plates, and someone had a heavy hand when they set a glass down on the table.

Aidan swallowed hard. “Yeah, I covered the Hangman.”

“You have any theories?” Marcus persisted. “Exactly how much has the media left out?”

“I wouldn’t know. I no longer report the news.”

“Then why are you in Watcher’s Point?”

“Marcus . . .” I gave my brother a smoldering glare.

“Stop badgering our guest,” Mom warned him before refocusing her attention on Aidan. “Do you have family in Watcher’s Point?”

“Not anymore. My grandfather passed a couple of years ago. You might have known my mother, though. She was born and raised there.”

“How interesting. What’s her name?” She picked up her glass and brought it to her lips.

“Lila Payne, but you probably would’ve known her as Lila Davis. She married my father right out of high school.”

The glass slipped from her fingers, and though it didn’t break, water pooled around her half-eaten plate of food. Appearing stricken, she scooted her chair back and stood.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” I asked, wondering if something she’d eaten had made her sick.

“Can you come into the kitchen with me?” she directed the request at me.

I scrambled to my feet and followed her into the adjacent room. She closed the door behind us, and it was eerily quiet.

She grabbed my shoulders. “Tell me you haven’t slept with him.”

My eyes widened. “What?”

“Tell me it hasn’t gone that far.”

I shrugged her hands off. “I am not talking about sex with you!”

All the color drained from her face. “Oh God. You have, haven’t you?”

“Mom! It’s none of your—” I broke off and shook my head. “If this has to do with Joe—”

“This isn’t about Joe.” She grabbed my hands. “Promise me you’ll end it, Mackenzie. You and Aidan can’t be together.”

What the hell?

I jerked my hands from her grasp. “You need to understand something, Mom. I’m in love with him, and that isn’t going to change.” I couldn’t believe we’d interrupted Thanksgiving dinner to have this conversation.

“Oh my God . . .” She propped herself against the counter, as if she couldn’t bear to stand on her own. Something in my gut tightened in response, and the same bad feeling I’d had on the way to Eugene resurfaced.

“Mom?”

“This is my fault. I should have told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Hamilton Payne is your father.”

24. Fate's Faux Pas

Her words roared through my head like the ocean during a storm: deafening, brutal, and unpredictable—a sneaker wave tumbling from her lips and catching me off-guard. I stumbled back and bumped into the center island. Aidan and me . . . sharing the same father. Sharing DNA. Siblings didn’t feel this way about each other. It was unnatural, absurd. The room spiraled out of control as I whirled in memories that crushed me—his skin on mine, our mouths colliding, bodies moving in tandem.

Vomit burned my throat. “It’s not true.”

“I know I’ve given you no reason to trust—”

“Shut up,” I cut her off, and the slight tremble of her lips only infuriated me more. “How could you sink so low? What do you have against Aidan that you’d try to sabotage us?”

Tears hung on her lashes, big drops of truth I didn’t want to acknowledge. “I-I’m not lying. He’s your brother.”

“Yes you are!” My voice bounced off the walls. Everyone at the table probably heard every shouted word, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t real. I’d wake up any moment, heart thudding too fast, body drenched in sweat and twisted in my sheets, and I’d shake off this ridiculous nightmare. “I don’t believe you.”

“Kenz, please . . .”

“Is this about Joe? Is that it? He must be desperate if he’s got you going to bat for him like this.”

“It’s not about Joe.”

I ignored her denial. “You wanna know why I turned my back on him? His dad raped me. There, I said it.” My chest heaved, and I blinked, trying to hold it in. Hysteria bubbled up anyway, gushed from me like a dam bursting. I hadn’t spoken that word once—not once since it happened.

Horror coursed from her eyes, and she opened her mouth, working to speak.

I beat her to it. “He didn’t believe me, Mom. He didn’t . . . didn’t . . .” I shrank back when she reached for me. “Just . . . don’t.”

I ignored her pleas and stalked into the dining room, wiping my face as I went. Everyone stared at me, their expressions identical masks of curiosity. Relief hit me as I realized they hadn’t overheard what I’d told my mom.

Aidan sprang up and took a step in my direction, and instinctively, I moved back. Every touch, every inch of closeness, took on new meaning in light of what my mom claimed.

It’s not true . . .

“Get me out of here, please.”

“What’s wrong?”

My eyes would overflow again at any moment, and once I started, I feared I wouldn’t be able to stop. “Can we just go?”

He rested his hand at the small of my back, and something in me shattered. I barely registered the perplexed faces crowding around me, didn’t feel their arms as they hugged me goodbye. Didn’t answer the questions they wanted to ask.

Glad you made it, sis. Sorry you’re leaving so soon.

That was Micah.

Stay safe.

That was my sister.

Marcus also said goodbye, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with his disproval. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with anything. I hurried toward the door, the exit just a few feet away.

My mom was suddenly in front of me, face tense, her lips moving in desperation to get through to me. “Please . . . don’t leave like this.” She blocked my escape into the storm, and her gaze fell on Aidan. “Let’s sit down and talk about this. I-I didn’t know, Kenz . . .”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I shoved past her, and as I took my first step across the threshold, she grabbed my jacket.

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