"Jesus fucking Christ. Is someone gonna tell me what the hell happened here?"
43
Boone
Hours later, after being interviewed by multiple cops, telling our stories over and over, and listening to Ripley's father being questioned, Ripley and I are finally allowed to go home. She's been holding it together like a champ, but I know the break is coming. I can feel it.
It happens as we pull into the garage at my house.
"Her own sister?"
I hop out of the truck and open Ripley's door to lift her into my arms and carry her inside.
Ripley's father confirmed to the police that twenty years ago, his sister-in-law had indeed told him that his wife was having affairs. Since the man apparently doesn't know how to handle anything head-on, his solution was to drown himself in the bottle and take out his anger on his wife and daughter. He never even confronted Rhonda to find out if it was true. After Rhonda and Gil Green were murdered, Laurelyn had offered him more than a shoulder to cry on for comfort.
Frank had been adamant when he said there was no way he would have touched his sister-in-law. He wouldn't even look at her, because she looked too much like his dead wife and he didn't want any reminders.
He never realized that by telling Laurelyn to pack her shit up and leave, he was giving her the perfect out to escape the consequences of her actions.
Brandy wasn't shot. The bullet had gone wild and shattered a picture across the room, sending a piece of glass flying that sliced into her like shrapnel. Physically, she was fine after being patched up with a butterfly bandage, but watching her mother being led away in handcuffs had left her unhinged. I can still hear her screaming at her mama that she always knew she didn't love her enough.
Laurelyn hit back, telling Brandy she would never have come back to Nashville if it weren't for the bar and Frank. We could hear Brandy's hysterical screeching even as we left the building.
Now, Ripley's tears soak my shoulder as she sobs. I sit down on the couch in the living room where the sheet music still lies on the table, and hold her on my lap.
She snuffles and hiccups before lifting her head. "I've thought the worst of her all these years. I never once thought there was a chance that she didn't cheat. What kind of daughter am I?"
"Sugar, you can't blame yourself for that. You thought exactly what you were told to think as a kid. Why would you have questioned it? The evidence was all right there, supporting everything you were told."
"But they were wrong and . . . God, I feel like I don't even know who I am right now."
"I'll tell you who you are-the strongest, most incredible woman I've ever met."
She rocks against me. "That's not true. I never once thought . . . And the truth was right there."
"And you saw it. You found it. You put the pieces together, and now you can tell the world what really happened, if you want."
"If Laurelyn had just stayed away . . ."
I glance at the sheet music on the table. "I suspect the private investigator probably shook her loose and had her starting to worry, plus she said she couldn't pass up the chance to make some easy money at the bar. Coming back to the scene of the crime let her keep an eye on things, just in case the PI was getting too close."
Ripley nods. "What happens now?"
"They charge her, and hopefully she pleads guilty."
"If she doesn't, then we've got a whole public circus of a trial."
My shoulders tense at the thought. That's the last thing she needs right now, and I hope like hell the confession from Laurelyn and our statements will be enough.
"No matter what happens, we'll face it together. You and me, sugar. A package deal, and one hell of a team."
Ripley meets my gaze, her stormy eyes even cloudier than normal with the sheen of tears. "Why would you throw yourself at her? She could've killed you!" Her panic is delayed, but not surprising.
"You think I wouldn't take a bullet for you? You charged a pissed-off bull for me."
"I didn't think-"
"Well, I did, and there was no way in hell I was going to live the rest of this life without you. If letting her shoot me would keep you breathing, then so be it."
"You really do love me," Ripley says, her tone hushed.
"You're just figuring this out?"
She shakes her head and wraps her arms around my neck. "No, but don't you dare ever do anything like that again. I need you breathing to be happy. So, let's work on both of us staying alive."
"Deal," I tell her as I press a kiss to her lips and lift her into my arms.