I sunk to my knees, everything in me spent. "It was you all along, wasn't it? You were there that night. You raped and killed my mother."
"You always were a clever girl, just like your mother." He ran a finger over my cheek and I shuddered and pulled away. He laughed. "Just like your mother. I'm going to have fun with you, just like I did your mother. I've waited so very long for this."
He held the gun to my temple as he tore open my shirt, exposing my bare breasts, and ran a hand over one. "You might even be more beautiful than her."
My stomach cramped and my vision blurred. I trusted him. Saw him as my protector, my mentor. "She trusted you. She never suspected you would turn on her."
"That's the beauty of it." He knelt before me, running a hand through my hair as he held the gun steady. "Poor Catelyn. You know, she did in fact set up a trust for you. Nothing shockingly huge, she had a lot of debts to pay as she tried to pull out of our little club, but she made sure you were taken care of."
"But…"
"I was the executor of her will. Whoops. Forgot to tell you that, didn't I? Well, I had to see what you were made of. You were her daughter, but you were also his daughter. The man who made her weak and pathetic. The man she was going to give up everything for."
"My father was a better man than you could ever be."
"And look what that got him," Cavin said. "I've killed and lived to enjoy it. I have people of every walk of life in my pocket. Your daddy is dead. Who won that game, eh?"
"So now you're just going to kill everyone who was in the club, and what? Get away alive and without blame?"
He laughed. "Exactly. I honestly thought you would figure this out sooner, but like your mother, you have a soft spot for people. It's your greatest weakness, Catelyn." His hands continued to explore my body as I tried to think of a way out.
"Oh, and there's more." He leaned in and whispered in my ear as his hand slipped down my pants. And he confirmed without a doubt what I'd already suspected.
"You won't get away," I said.
"Yes. I will. I am, after all, Augustus. Do you know what Augustus means, child?"
I shook my head.
"Great." The word was almost a prayer. He looked far off as he said it, the same look I’d seen on his face many times before.
And as he lost himself, worshipping his own greatness, I grabbed Jon's gun and shot him dead.
Chapter Thirty Eight
Heart's Truth
THE NIGHT OF THE CRUISE
I SAT STUNNED as I watched Maxwell's body float by, his skin already discolored from the water and death, or maybe it was just the moonlight playing tricks on my mind. He was face-down, which was a small blessing, but I could imagine his face. Would it be scared? Confused? At peace? Some macabre part of me wanted to turn him over to see, but he'd already moved out of reach.
Jon grasped for me and I accepted the comfort of his hug for a moment before pulling back and staring at the rope ladder.
"We'll be together after this," he said, his voice thick with need. "Right? You'll be mine?"
I hid my heart from him, my heart that belonged to Ash and always would. Jon only knew the part of the plan he needed to, the part that would allow us to catch the real Midnight Murderer. But he didn't know my heart, and I couldn't let him see it.
Not yet.
"Yes, you and me. We'll be together. But first, we have to finish this."
Chapter Thirty Nine
Death Toll and Screaming Monkeys
PRESENT DAY
COVERED IN BLOOD, shaking uncontrollably, I ran through the burning yacht to find Ash and Bridgette. A crew member tried to stop me as I turned the corner, but I pushed him away and he shrugged and ran to the life boats.
I heard helicopters in the distance and I kept running, my feet bleeding from glass and debris as the yacht shook and began to sink.
And then I heard the most beautiful sound in the world. Ash's voice. Calling me.
I ran into his arms. "You're alive!"
"I am. I've been trying to find you. Bridgette's already been rescued but I wouldn't leave without you. Come, we have to go—now!"
We boarded a helicopter and it flew up as I watched the yacht burn and sink into the ocean, along with all my family's secrets. Ash held me, his strong arms supporting me as we were taken to Massachusetts General Hospital for medical help.
My mind filled with all the revelations of the night, and I tallied up how many lives had been lost this last year, including Molly, the young girl Jon got pregnant and the last casualty of Alpha Pi Omega.
And I wondered if I should tell anyone about Jon. The truth heals, sometimes. I had learned the hard way that sometimes the truth also wounded, and for no good reason. Telling Ash and Bridgette about Jon would just open up wounds that were trying to heal and wouldn't help them recover or move on.
But there were other secrets that needed telling. How much should Ash know about the truth of his parents? What would that do to him?