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Cedric’s knock on my door had us both staring at it as if the boogeyman were behind it.

“Nina, channel six,” he called from the other side of the door.

I raced to my bedside, clicking it on, and sat next to Taylor as we watched.

“Business mogul, Devin McIntyre, came forward this morning with some shocking news. Apparently, he took part in a cover-up for a scandal involving Georgia’s governor, Ronald Matheson. Jeff Talbertson, our field correspondent, has the story.”

“Thanks, Sue. Devin McIntyre has come forward stating that on February 13, 2013, he was an eye witness to the aftermath of the brutal beating of Matheson’s daughter by his cousin, Aiden McIntyre. Allegedly, Aiden practiced some very dangerous sexual ritual and coerced Matheson’s daughter into taking part. When the situation escalated, Jenna Matheson went home to her father to have McIntyre arrested. This is where the story gets interesting. Instead of having McIntyre brought up on charges for his daughter’s assault, the governor agreed to take a large lump sum from Aiden McIntyre to help fund his 2014 campaign.

“Devin McIntyre states that he never intended to be a part of the cover-up, and that he did not participate in any of the events. When asked why he was coming forward, he simply stated his cousin ‘is a sexual predator, ‘ and he ‘wants to avoid anyone else falling victim to his crimes.’ So far, much of this is speculation. As of now, Governor Matheson’s camp has declined to comment. We will have more on this story as it develops.”

“Thanks, Jeff. Can you tell us a bit more about Aiden McIntyre?”

The story went on, profiling Aiden and his accomplishments as I let the noise drown out. Devin had told the truth, exposing Aiden and possibly ending his sick practice for the time being. But deep down I knew there was no hope for Aiden. No help for him, either. He was a lost cause, and I’d seen it firsthand.

I felt my entire stomach drop when they showed a picture of Aiden smiling. He looked gorgeous in a t-shirt with the beach in the background, and I was thankful he wasn’t looking at the camera. There was no way I could suffer looking into his eyes.

“Devin will lose all his clients. He’ll go bankrupt,” Taylor said, her eyes still on the screen.

It dawned on me then that this was the leverage Eileen used. Aiden’s sickness had cost Devin his business, his freedom, his livelihood…and me.

I felt my heart break again as I looked at Taylor.

“He did nothing but protect me.”

“Like I said, I misjudged him, and that’s so rare.” She seemed thoughtful as she looked at the TV.

“But he’s a bad man, right?”

Taylor looked at me, seeming to form an answer and then stood. “I am in no position, nor will I ever be, to dish out this type of advice.”

I laughed at the stunned look on her face. “It’s okay, Taylor, really. I’m good with the occasional tough love and how to paralyze a man with a bullet kind of advice.”

She smiled at me with a wink. “I’m going to go have a chat with Cedric.”

“Take it easy on him, Taylor. I need him whole.”

“You got it.” She looked at me one last time. “I’m proud of you.”

“For what? I was scared shitless and shot the wrong man.” We both laughed a little.

“You know why.”

I nodded, and she shut the door behind her. I looked up to see Aiden’s picture splashed on the TV again and turned it off.

I looked at my bed, tempted to let it consume me, to drown out the noise and give in to the pain pulsing through my veins and continuously pumping through my heart. Instead, I grabbed a bathing suit and took it out on the waves of the Atlantic.

“Forgiveness is alchemy of the soul in which the feeling of possibility returns to the human spirit.”

? Jake Ducey

§§

A week later, I was sitting at my desk at home writing out a disbursement schedule for charitable funds for the upcoming year. It was Sunday night, and I was at home working—my new normal—and was okay with that, but the gnawing in my chest wouldn’t go away. As much as I tried to concentrate, I heard the voice.

“Nina.”

It was Devin’s voice that whispered to me through the silence. I set down my pen and leaned back in my chair. This was guilt. Sure, I would feel a little guilty about what had transpired. Okay, a lot of guilt. The man had proven his love over and over. But he was right, it was his mess to clean.

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