“I started a fire so no one would know.”
“Jesus Christ,” my father chokes out.
“You did fucking what?” Sullivan snaps.
“Our family… we deal with things. We look out for one another. It’s. What. We. Do.” My uncle drives home each word with a jab of his finger toward the ground. “It’s what Beauforts do.”
He ignores everyone and keeps his eyes on mine. “I thought you’d gone. Then I saw you… running back to the yacht. I didn’t know why you were going back, only that I must have been wrong. Why would you come back if it had been you? But it was too late… I couldn’t get to you fast enough. You were onboard and… then it exploded. All this time you’ve been gone, I knew it was because I killed you. Everyone fell apart, we were all a fucking mess. And I knew why. It was my fault.”
Aunt Trudy sobs beside him.
“When you appeared in New York again, everyone was shocked. They thought you’d disappeared on purpose. Used the fire as an opportunity to pretend you were dead so you could leave without questions. No one knew why you’d done it. They thought maybe you didn’t want the responsibility of joining the family business. You’ve always been the free one, the adventurous one.The Risk Taker. I knew they couldn’t get their head around why you’d do it, because it didn’t make sense. The Slade we thought we’d lost would never do that to his family. I knew I had to tell everyone the truth about that day. I just… I’ve been making arrangements. I needed things in place first.”
“What arrangements?” Aunt Trudy’s face pales. “No… no…”
“My will.” Mal nods. “I knew what I’d done, Trude. How could I ever look any of you in the eye again when I can’t even look at myself?”
She breaks into heavier sobs, and my brother drops his head, cursing under his breath.
“You didn’t blame me?” I whisper.
Jude places her hand on my chest, providing me with the steadying anchor I desperately need as my eyes track around the room, taking in my family one by one.
“Never,” my father says.
“How could you ever think that?” Sullivan scoffs. “Fuck’s sake, Brother. You’re my goddamn twin. I know you better than myself. Like you’d ever do that.”
“There was peanut oil onboard. I didn’t know that’s what it was. I threw it at the wall. I was so mad at her. Some splashed on her.”
“None of the crew should have made that mistake, they knew about Elaina’s allergy… goddamn it…” My father scrubs a hand around his jaw, his eyes pained before his shoulders fall in realization. “We had a new crew member that day. Young guy. He was only helping for a few days, asked for cash in hand. No one saw him after. They assumed he’d moved on, but if he hadn’t been briefed fully then…”
“You think it was him they found?” Sullivan asks.
“But they identified Slade.” Sinclair sniffs. “How could they have done that if it wasn’t him?”
My uncle continues, “The medical examiner… said Slade likely died from catastrophic injuries caused by the explosion. That’s all I needed to know. I didn’t want to hear more about how he had suffered as a result of my actions. I paid her to push it through fast. I didn’t want what was left of him to be cut apart on some metal lab table.
“I knew you had nothing to do with what happened to Elaina the second I saw you running back onboard carrying something. But I didn’t know what had really happened. Not until… Oh God,” he chokes. “She said Elaina died from blunt force trauma to her skull and was likely conscious at the time judging by the high level of epinephrine in her system.”
“What are you saying?” I search his eyes. “Wait. Mom was… she was inside the cabin when I left her. Not on the steps.”
Tears well in his eyes. “She didn’t die of anaphylaxis. She found a spare EpiPen and injected herself with it. She was trying to get off the boat, fell, and hit her head. There was blood everywhere. So much blood.”
“She was trying to tell you she was okay,” Jude breathes. “Slade?” She cradles my face and turns me toward her. “She was coming to tell you she was okay. None of it was your fault. Please tell me you see that now?”
Tears run down her beautiful face as she looks at me the way she’s always looked at me.
Like I’m a good man she can actually love.
I drop my head, and she presses her lips against my forehead and just holds me.
“None of this was your fault,” she says, stroking my cheeks. “It was never your fault.”
“Did you pay the marina to lose the CCTV?” Denver asks.
I turn as my uncle shakes his head. “Ade did. I told him what I’d done. He was worried I’d be seen starting the fire.”
“Ade!” Sullivan snaps. “That’s why that fucker keeps asking for a better deal than the one he’s got? Has he been holding this over you?”
