by Kate Benson
The Confession
Kate Benson
COPYRIGHT © 2019 BY KATE BENSON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEM WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE AUTHOR, EXCEPT FOR THE USE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS IN A BOOK REVIEW. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Editing and formatting by Chasing Sophie Publications ©
Also by Kate Benson
The Promise Series
The Promise
The Choice
The Secret
The Commitment
The Compromise
The Sacrifice
The Confession
The Redemption Series (The Vault)
*A spin-off of The Promise Series*
Redemption: Part One
Redemption: Part Two
Redemption: Part Three
Redemption: Part Four
Redemption: Part Five
Redemption: Part Six
The Frenemy Series
frigid
sprung
Ignite Series
Ignite
Smolder
The Callie Leveaux Series
The Callie Leveaux Series: The Novellas
Traitor
Standalone Novels
Beyond the Pine
Pieces of You
What the Elf?
For my grandmother, Kate.
You were my namesake, my first fan and my closest friend.
Happy 100th birthday.
100 more years could come and go, and I still wouldn’t be able to find the words to say how much I miss you.
I hope you’re proud of me up there.
God knows I couldn’t be prouder of you.
I love you.
XO Katie
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Friday
Prologue
Monday
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Tuesday
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Wednesday
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Thursday
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Friday
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Friday
“The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.”
-Chris Isaak
Prologue
Drake
“I didn’t think…” I start, clearing my throat as I leave my gaze locked on her. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
A small waft of cigarette smoke trails around her as her shoulders rise and fall with her deep sigh, the only signal she’s heard me as she goes silent for another moment.
“Neither was I,” she admits, keeping her eyes low as she keeps her focus on her hands before finally, tossing the cigarette away, still denying me her eyes. “You’ve destroyed me,” she rasps. “Absolutely fucking wrecked me.”
For the first time, a piece of the same emotion that’s been coursing through my own chest is pouring out of hers and I’m destroyed all over again, too.
I take a slow step toward her and at the same time, she turns to face me. For the first time in days, I gaze into her gray eyes finding them dull with sorrow, tired and swollen from lack of sleep and too many tears. I search them, desperate for the sparkle they held before it all came crashing down.
I don’t find it.
Her shoulders, slumped with exhaustion, weeks of loneliness and despair I finally understand begin to square as she angles her head high, her gaze never faltering despite the pain resting there.
The wind brushes her hair slightly until it floats over her features. It makes my chest clench with deep regret for our stolen time, the days I know we won’t ever get back.
How could I have been so foolish?
“You only found me because I let you,” she allows. “But you’ve broken me in so many ways I’ve lost count and that almost didn’t matter.”
“Then why did you let me?” I ask, my voice low, unsure. “Why did you come?”
“Because I also know you’re the only one capable of putting me back together again,” she whispers, taking a final step forward, the vanishing rays of the sun falling over her, stealing my breath. “For better or worse, this will be the last time I walk away from you, Drake. You won’t find me again,” she promises. “If you have any intentions of making this right, you need to do it now.”
Her words hit me hard, take my breath for a moment before I’m able to recover. She stares back at me, waiting, but I can offer little more than a simple nod and so that’s what I give her.
“Then we should get started,” she breathes, low enough I barely hear the break in her voice as she returns to her spot on the edge of the table once more, holding my eyes. “Are you ready to confess your sins, Sir?”
Monday
“In the absence of security, I make my way into the night.”
-George Michael
Chapter One
Drake
“Do you think you’ll need that?” my father asks, gesturing toward my passport when I set it beside my bag.
“I don’t know,” I admit, reaching for a stack of bills before shutting the safe behind me.
I take a split second to look over the interior of my bag before I realize I don’t care what’s inside. None of it matters. The only thing that does has already been gone for more than four hours.
She could be headed anywhere by now.
“You need sleep,” he says, his quiet voice breaking through my thoughts.
It’s still early, but despite the emotional exhaustion coursing through me, I’m wide awake. When I wasn’t on the phone, I’d been driving around the city, searching for any sight of her, but finding nothing.
“I need my wife. I’ll sleep once I find her,” I answer, zipping the closure and releasing a sigh. “That’ll have to do. The next flight out boards in an hour.”
“Understood,” he replies, giving me a quick nod. “Come on. At least let me drive you.”
“You don’t have to,” I shake my head. “She left her car in the garage.”
“Which now is probably sitting with an empty gas tank,” he reasons. “You don’t know how long you’ll be gone and I’m heading that way anyway,” he reasons, meeting my eyes. “Besides, I think we should talk.”
“I agree,” I cut him off. “But I don’t have time to think about that.”
He says nothing, instead swallowing his disappointment and filling my chest with a guilt I’m not yet capable of understanding.
“I’m not trying to be cold,” I admit, positioning the strap to my bag over my shoulder. “I… I have to find her.
Everything else comes second.”
“I understand,” he nods, his eyes softening. “Honestly, I’m just glad you’re speaking to me.”
“Well, we’re not in the clear yet,” I admit bluntly. “I’m still mad as hell, still have questions, but I can’t focus on any of it now.”
“I know,” he swallows. “Come on. Get in the car and I’ll give you a ride.”
“Alright,” I relent, making my way to the front door, checking to make sure the note I’d written in case she comes home while I’m gone is still in the same spot on the table beside the door.
Turning to follow him out, I take a quick glance over the place we’d called home, the place where we’d faced both our greatest and most painful moments and swallow the knot in my throat.
“Please come back to me,” I whisper out into nothing, willing the words to find her heart and speak to her as I square my jaw and pull the door shut behind me.
“How are you?” he asks as I slip into the passenger side of his car. “Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lie, pulling my seatbelt on and staring out the windshield. I’ll be alright once I know she is. “And I won’t deny I could probably do well with a little therapy, but you’re the last person who needs to look inside my head,” I continue, my tone blunt. “I think we both know you won’t like what you find up there. Don’t we, Dad?”
For a long moment, silence fills the car, the low hum of the engine the only sound. As he pulls out of our neighborhood, he breaks the silence.
“I started using when your mother was pregnant with you,” he breathes, pulling me from my thoughts and meeting my eyes when I glance over at him. “You don’t have to say anything. I know you’re not in the right place,” he offers. “If I’m being honest though, I’m not sure you’ll ever speak to me again after you get out of this car,” he admits, swallowing hard. “I can’t give you much, but I can give you a few answers.”
I say nothing, considering his words as he clears his throat once more, staring out as he pulls onto the interstate toward the airport.
“She was seven months along and on bed rest,” he continues. “We were dirt poor and I was struggling to cover the bills, get things ready for you. Since she’d had to quit her job, money was even tighter than usual, so I picked up a second job at night delivering pizzas,” he sighs, checking his mirror and moving into the fast lane. “One night, I dozed off behind the wheel and almost flipped our car while I was on a delivery. It scared the hell out of me, but I knew I couldn’t quit. I sure as hell couldn’t tell your mother,” he shakes his head. “We’d finally been able to afford a few of the things we needed, and she was already a nervous wreck. Stress was making things harder on her, and I was hellbent on not adding to it. When I went in for my shift the next night, I was exhausted again. I tried my best to drink my weight in coffee and it helped, but not enough. A coworker noticed, said he had something that could help more than ten pots of coffee, so I followed him to his car,” he admits. “That was the first time I used.”
He swallows hard, the silence coming from my side of the car making him nervous before he clears his throat once more.
“I could work longer, make more money. At first, it was simple. An easy fix,” he shrugs. “Before long, though, you were here, and I’d gone from a couple lines getting me by to a full-blown addict in what seemed like a matter of days. The extra money intended for you and your mother was going to feed my habit,” he continues. “I was always working, and you’d arrived, so your mom didn’t notice at first. Once she did, though, she was obviously furious,” he admits. “Not only was I putting all of us in danger, I was taking from you. I promised I’d get my shit together, meant every word, but by then it was just too late. I was already gone, Drake. I wasn’t the man either of you needed, but even in the darkness of my addiction, I knew I loved you both. I also knew losing you and your mother would break me,” he says, releasing a low sigh. “So, I was selfish. I begged her to forgive me, give me another chance. She said I had one shot. I needed to get into meetings, find help, start being honest. She said if I did that, she’d stand by me, but if I couldn’t, I should let both of you go.”
He pulls off the interstate, following the exit toward the airport as my mind reels, taking everything in.
“David…” I start, overwhelmed.
“I’m sorry,” he cuts me off, shaking his head as regret fills his eyes. “I know you have enough on your plate. I just need you to know I tried,” he offers. “And whether you’re able to admit it right now or not, you need to hear this.”
His words are hard to argue with, even in my detached state of mind. I’m about to reply, to say what I’m not sure, but his voice cuts me off before I can.
“I went to one meeting, got high with my sponsor in the parking lot afterwards. When I came down, I went home and found you and your mother both asleep. I’d walked over to the edge of your crib and was watching you when I heard her whisper, low enough to keep from waking you.”
Images of my mother, her eyes, her smile, her unbreakable spirit flood my mind. I recall the conversation we’d shared shortly before her death, her soft voice as she held my shaking hand, weakly asking me to forgive my father should he ever make his way back into my life. It all comes crashing forward and the emotion swirling in my chest is almost too much to bear.
“She said she hoped you kept my eyes, but you never had to use them to see the man I’d become,” he sniffs, a sad smile slipping over his lips as he discreetly wiped his tears away on his sleeve. “She said she loved me, that she forgave me. I told her I didn’t know what to do and she said, ‘Come back to him when you can be the father he deserves,’” he says, releasing a long sigh. “When she passed, I was at my lowest point. I knew you wanted me, needed me desperately, but I wasn’t what you deserved. I was a shell of the man I’d once been, but I still remembered the promise I’d made you both. I’d been hanging onto it for more than a decade and despite my shortcomings in every other aspect of my life, I refused to break another promise to you.”
“So, you thought it would be better to deny your only son during the darkest days of his life?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I simply knew whatever you were looking for, you never would have found it with me then,” he promises. His eyes meet mine for a moment and I’m surprised to find them teary. “Your Uncle Ben came looking for me and found me in a crack house about twenty minutes outside of Jacksonville. I couldn’t even tell him how I got there.”
“He never told me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he admits low, his voice filled with admiration as he swipes his cheek once more. “But find me he did. He beat the hell out of me and told me to stay away until I got my shit together. I knew he and Renee would take care of you, treat you as one of their own. It wasn’t the same as having your father, but at that point, I knew I couldn’t do right by you or your mother. I couldn’t even do right by me.”
“You could have answered the phone.”
“And said what, Son? I’ll only disappoint you?” he asks. “Hell, I figured you already knew that.”
“Yeah,” I sigh, rubbing my palm over my face. “Yeah, I did.”
“So, I stayed away,” he says, shrugging off the hurt my blunt words leave behind. “I tried reaching out a few months before I caught you at your office, but I couldn’t find you,” he continues. “Since Ben and Renee moved, I didn’t have a good number for them, and I had no idea you were here in Florida. One night on a whim, I looked you up online and came across your wedding announcement. After a little more research, I saw your company information, learned a little more about the man you grew to be,” he admits. “Your mother would be so proud of you,” he sighs, giving me a small, genuine smile. “I am and I don’t really even have the right to be.”
“What about Analise?” I ask. “How did you end up at the same hospital as her?”
“I already worked there. A couple years after your mother
…” he starts, clearing his throat. “I started going to meetings again, got a real sponsor. It took me a long time to get anywhere, but eventually, I was able to start counting days instead of hours. The meetings helped, but I’d been using for so long, I needed long-term care. I couldn’t afford it, but my sponsor helped me look for assistance. Finally, I got into Briargate and they helped me get clean. I spoke with a few people, did what I had to for my certification. Since I’d been there for a while and the residents knew me, I was taken under their wing and allowed to come on as an in-house counselor. I wanted to help people the way I’d been helped, and my job record was shitty to say the least,” he smirks, no humor in his voice. “When you called the registration office to find out about an opening, it was dumb luck I was there. It was only a couple weeks after I’d looked you up, found out you’d married, and I saw Ana’s name on Lainey’s desk. It was completely unethical for me to interfere, but my curiosity got the better of me. She was getting ready to call you back, tell you there wasn’t anything available for a month. I begged her not to, offered to counsel Ana myself for free, gave up my private room and called in the few favors I’d accrued over the years.”
“Why?” I cut him off, shock coursing through my veins. “Why would you do that?”
“I knew I’d lost my right to you at least ten times over,” he says low, shifting into park as we arrive at the airport drop-off before glancing over at me. “But a promise is still a promise, Son. If I could be the father you needed, even in the shadows without you ever knowing, that’s all I wanted,” he admits, his words making my chest seize with emotion. “I never asked Ana anything personal about you, your life, that wasn’t imperative to her treatment and even then, I asked as little as possible,” he promises. “I tried my best to treat her as a patient, not the daughter-in-law I had no claim to out of respect for you,” he continues. “No one else at the hospital had any idea. One or two of the staff asked, but Mitchell is a common enough name, I could pass it off as a happy accident,” he explains. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help her, Drake. This kind of treatment works wonders for some, but it’s not a cure all for everyone.”
