Rules of Survival(78)

If anything happens to me, baby girl, be strong. See that the information gets to the right people. It’s the only way you’ll be safe. “In that place we go down by the sea, I could spend a lifetime there, just you and me.”

The lyric was from a little-known song by an indie band we both loved. Kicking Skyler. I knew exactly where she’d hidden the evidence. There was a spot on the Jersey shore, right off the beach and under a dock. We used to sit there for hours and just watch the water. She used to say when we settled down, it would be just her and me by the sea…

I swiped my eyes with the back of my hand and turned back to the letter.

All that said, there is one thing left for me to confess. I made a lot of bad choices and did a lot of horrible things, but Tanner was my everything—even though I never told him so. But when he believed I was to blame for the murder, I was devastated. I turned to Mick for comfort and it became something more. We let everyone believe that Mick was your father—but he isn’t. It’s Tanner. Patrick Tanner. The same man who has pursued us all these years.

I’ve always taught you that things were rarely as simple as they appeared. Patrick Tanner is one of them. He was angry and so was I. We lashed out at each other over and over again through the years, and in the end, it was all for nothing. Trust him, baby girl. He’s made mistakes—like I have—but he’s a good man.

Each time I read it, a small amount of relief washed over me. Patrick had hounded us relentlessly, and he had his own issues, but knowing that I didn’t share Mick’s DNA was a small comfort, and I needed that.

I got off the bus in Tarrytown. I’d arranged to meet Shaun and Patrick at Meadow Run Cemetery—where Patrick secretly had my mom buried under a couple of pink cherry trees last year. Even after all this time and with everything that had happened between them, it was easy to see he still loved her. The way his eyes sparkled when he said her name, or the wistful, faraway look he got when he spoke about “the old days.” I had a hard time seeing him as anything other than Patrick, the bounty hunter who had made our lives a living hell, but Mom wanted me to look past that. I would try, at the very least. For her.

I followed the directions he’d given me to the back of the cemetery. They’d arrived first and were standing in front of a pink marble headstone with their backs toward me.

“Melissa Cain Morgan. 1977 to 2013. Baby, I’m amazed by you,” I read aloud as I came up behind them.

Patrick cleared his throat. “It’s a song by Lonestar—”

I nodded, throat thick. “‘Amazed.’ Yeah, I know. Mom loved that song.” I ran my fingers over the pink marble. “Thank you for this, Patrick. She would have loved it.”

He nodded and I could tell he was fighting strong emotions. Clasping a hand on Shaun’s shoulder, he turned away. “We’ll give you a minute.”

I watched them go. They settled on a bench on the other side of the path, far out of earshot. I knelt in front of the stone and wiped away the thin layer of slush at the bottom. “So I did it,” I said, voice low. “I wanna tell you that Mick got what he deserved, but a part of me will never feel that way. It was too quick. I know you hated violence, Mom, but he didn’t suffer enough. Not for everything he did to us.”

I stopped and held my breath. The only thing I could hear was the sound of cars passing on the nearby road. Occasionally a bird cawed overhead, but other than that, there was nothing. No life.

“I can’t say that I understand why you did the things you did. We were—” I couldn’t hold it off any longer. The tears fell and I couldn’t stop them. “We were a team. That’s what you always told me. I don’t care about all the things that you did, or even all the things you lied to me about—how am I supposed to move forward without you?”

I glanced back over my shoulder. Patrick and Shaun were still on the bench.

“I know you said I should trust him, but I don’t know if I can. Give me something to go on. A sign. One last thing to point me in the right direction…”

I held my breath again, waiting. Of course there was nothing. No lightning bolt from the heavens or mysterious glowing ball of light. The slush from the ground had soaked through my jeans and was making my knees numb. I grabbed the edge of Mom’s stone and pulled myself up.

I turned away and started toward Patrick and Shaun as a car pulled alongside the curb on the other side of the cemetery fence, the beats of a familiar song cranking out through his open window.

Every time our eyes meet, this feeling inside me is almost more than I can take…

The tears fell harder.

Baby when you touch me, I can feel how much you love me, and it just blows me away…

My decision was made. I’d gotten my sign.

“She would have wanted me to tell you the truth,” I said as I came up in front of them. I dug my hand into my jacket pocket, pulled out the letter, and took a deep breath. When I spoke the words, everything would change. Not just for me, but for Patrick, too. It made me hesitate. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to me in any way. But at the same time, despite our rocky history—which was going to take time to get over—a part of me wanted him to be happy about it.

“The truth about what?” He took the letter from me and skimmed it.

“Mick wasn’t lying. You’re my dad. Not him.”