“I regret what I did,” Boyd said.“She’s an aggravating woman, and she needed a strong hand, but I went too far.After Billy came along, she told me she wanted a divorce.I realized I’d been too harsh.I never put my hands on her again.She left anyway.”
Wade didn’t know what to say.There was no justification for Boyd’s actions, no words that could heal the emotional scars between them.Their family unit was damaged beyond repair.“She wants to confess.”
“To what?Self-defense?”
“I’ll convince her to keep your name out of it, if it comes to that.I won’t say anything about the abuse, either, though it sickens me to cover for you.In exchange, you’ll let Meredith walk away with me right now.”
Boyd stared at him for a taut moment.“Go on then.”
“I’m sorry about Billy,” Wade said, rising to his feet.
“So am I,” Boyd replied.
Wade turned and walked toward the door.
“Before you leave, you should know something.”
The hair on the nape of his neck prickled.“What’s that?”
“I didn’t bury Cameron Pickett.”
He paused.“What do you mean?”
“I made a deal with your mother, but I didn’t honor my end.”
“Why not?”
“By the time I got there, he was gone.I searched the water and the riverbank.I thought he’d drifted downstream or come to and wandered off.”
“That’s impossible.”
“If you say so.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, son, I’m not.”
“I’m not your son.”
His gaze flickered over Wade, revealing pain.“I never cared that you were his.I loved you as if you were mine.”
Wade couldn’t look at him any longer.He wanted to punch a hole through the door.
“For years, I wondered if he’d show up somewhere, dead or alive.Turns out he’s been there all along, right where she left him.”
Wade’s stomach roiled with tension.“If you didn’t bury him, who did?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Meredith collected herbackpack and left the station with Wade.
She couldn’t believe Tripp Gilley was dead.He’d never bother her again.He’d never stalk her, never find her, never drag her back to his home and kill her.She’d been on the run for so long, she didn’t know how to stop running.The world felt surreal and unfocused, like a dream she’d stumbled into.It felt like someone else’s life.A weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she needed time to adjust to the new lightness.
Wade didn’t speak as they walked to his truck.He opened the passenger door for her before climbing behind the wheel.She settled in with Chico.The storm wasn’t over.Rainclouds gathered in the distance, but she could see a hint of sun peeking through the clouds.She hugged Chico to her chest and gave Wade a sidelong glance.His brow was furrowed with concern.Would he forgive her for leaving him?
“I don’t suppose they fed you,” Wade said.
“No.”
