Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance

by Siobhan Davis

  No wonder Ethan snapped. He was carrying so much on his shoulders.

  “The night before Ethan died, he showed up here drunk, throwing stones at my bedroom window. I was furious with him. Terrified my parents would see him and put two and two together. He was pleading with me to go with him and you to the cops. I was mad at him, and I told him it was over and if he didn’t leave I’d tell my parents he was stalking me.”

  She hangs her head and tears drip onto her hand. “He was rambling, not very coherent. He just kept saying I’m torn in two. I love you and I love her, and it isn’t right.” The look of agony on her face is unlike anything I’ve seen before. “I sent him away that night believing I didn’t love him anymore, and I’ve hated myself ever since. I should’ve called you or Cam, but he’d promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone about us, and I knew how honorable Ethan was. I knew if either of you had suspected anything you would’ve approached me. So, I didn’t call anyone.” She sobs quietly for a few moments.

  I sigh, hugging myself, finding this so hard to hear.

  “The following morning, he sent me a text begging me not to go to school. He didn’t say why, but it became obvious when I got there.” I knew she’d been there, and the media had speculated a lot as to why she was spared when Matt’s, Finlay’s, and Lucas’s girlfriends were all killed. “Ethan looked me straight in the eye, and there was a crazy intense quality to his gaze that scared me. He said he was sorry, that he loved me, but there was no other way. That they must be stopped before they caused any more pain. Then he shot Todd, and I saw no hint of remorse. He was like a machine. Devoid of emotion.” She gulps. “I just stood there watching him taking them out one by one, and I felt nothing either, Blaire. Nothing.”

  A strangled sob rips from her mouth. “He was turning to me when the police burst into the room. I saw it all go down. I screamed at him to drop the gun, but they shot him before he had a chance. Then I felt everything. Time seemed to stop, and I fell to the ground, crawling toward him.”

  She breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably, and I don’t hesitate anymore. I sink to my knees in front of her and take her hands in mine. “I saw the light go out of his eyes, Blaire. He was looking straight at me and he mouthed ‘tell Blaire I love her.’”

  I start crying then, and I can’t stop. Warm arms slide around me from behind, holding me tight as raw pain lances me on all sides. I hug Ax’s arm as I release the last of my tears a few minutes later. He presses a kiss to my hair and one to my cheek, and I cling to him, feeling completely overwhelmed.

  “You love her?” Lucinda asks him.

  “More than life itself,” Ax confidently replies.

  “Then don’t ever push her away. Don’t ever let anyone tell you your love is wrong.”

  I feel him nodding as I wipe under my eyes. “I’m okay now. You can return to the others.”

  “You sure, babe?” He cups my face gently, and I nod, sniffling. He presses his mouth to mine in a sweet kiss before settling me back onto the couch. Then he pours me a glass of water, wraps my hand around it, and walks off.

  “I came here today full of hatred toward you,” I honestly admit. “But I was wrong. You were as much a victim as I was. I know how badly I was hurting, and I can’t even begin to compare my suffering to yours. I don’t care why you sent me those emails. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “You’re so like Ethan. He was always the better person. Always so kindhearted.”

  “He was the best brother ever. I cherish the years I had with him and hate that his life was cut short because of me.”

  “Because of both of us, Blaire. He wanted to do right by both of us, but that wasn’t possible without someone getting hurt. If I’d told him that last night that I’d go to the cops with you, then he’d still be here.” She pauses briefly. “It’s haunted me,” she whispers. “Every day I think about how that conversation could have gone, should have gone, knowing if I’d said the right things then Ethan would still be alive.” She looks down at her lap. “I wasn’t listening. I didn’t see him, and I lost him because of it.”

  Her eyes are flooded with tears when she looks up at me again. “I went into a very bad place after Ethan died. My parents thought I was grieving for Todd, but I hope that bastard is burning in hell. I was mourning Ethan, and no one even knew we loved each other. No one knew how amazing he was and how he was the only person holding me together.” She takes another sip from her drink, and I follow suit.

  “It was easier to blame you,” she continues, “but that was wrong, and I’m so sorry, more than you can imagine. In my head, I twisted it all up so that it was your fault. If you’d gone to the police after they raped you, they would’ve arrested the guys, and my torment would’ve ended. Ethan and I would’ve been free to be together, and he wouldn’t have had to kill them. That’s how I justified it in my head.”

  “I was scared to report it. Scared of their money and their connections.”

  “You were right to be scared, and they would’ve gotten off somehow. It wouldn’t have made a difference. I know that now. But Ethan was right. If we’d teamed up, they wouldn’t have been able to beat the charges. We could’ve sent them away.”

  “I wish Ethan had told me. Maybe he might’ve been able to convince me but probably not. Those guys ruled by fear, and I felt beaten down.”

  “Me too. I could never properly explain it to Ethan, but you understand because they hurt you too.”

  Silence engulfs us as we both process everything. It’s an awful lot to take in. I feel a burden lift at the same time as a new weight presses down on my chest.

  “I wanted to lash out, and you were the easiest choice,” she adds. “It wasn’t that difficult to find out where you went. I knew a guy in school who knew a guy who was amazing with computers. He found the post Cassandra McFarland put up on social media about you. You were going under a different name, but she had posted a photo of you. I reached out to her after that, and she supplied me with your school email addy in exchange for the truth about who you were.”

  Fucking hell.

  Lucinda has the decency to look thoroughly ashamed. “I hated myself for it. Especially when I found out you’d tried to kill yourself.” Tears run down her cheeks again. “I said it to you, but I meant it for me. There is no excuse that justifies my behavior, but I was hurting, and I wanted you to hurt too, which is crazy, because, of course, you were already hurting.”

  She wheels up close to me, facing me with an earnest expression. “I’m so sorry, Blaire. What I did to you is unforgivable. Ethan would be so ashamed of me. I’m ashamed of myself. When I found out that you’d almost died, I jumped off the roof of our house. I didn’t want to be me anymore. I just wanted it to end. But I survived, and now, I’ll serve out my punishment in this chair.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but she raises her palm. “Don’t. It’s what I deserve. I know now this is all on me. I blamed you, but the fault lies with me. I was the reason Ethan was holding back because he respected my wishes. He accepted my fears for my family and our reputation, and that stopped him from doing the right thing by you.”

  “There’s something you don’t know.” I tell her about the recording sent to Ethan the night before the shooting. She’s shocked speechless. “Skeet tried to find it, but it looks like the police wiped all evidence of it from existence. But that’s what was the catalyst for Ethan’s actions. That’s what drove him to do it, and I refuse to blame myself for his actions any longer, and you need to stop blaming yourself too. We both could’ve done things differently but so could Ethan.” I draw a long breath. “It’s not anyone’s fault. It just happened, and nothing we can do or say will ever change that fact.”

  I take her hands in mine again. “I forgive you, Lucinda. And all I ask is that you forgive yourself. Ethan died so we could have a better life. We both owe it to him to try.”

  The sound of runnin
g footsteps forces me to whip my head around. Heath lands on top of us the exact same moment Mrs. Jamison races into the room.

  “Blaire. You’ve got to see this.” Heath holds out his cell to me. It’s paused on a CNN headline.

  NEW EVIDENCE COMES TO LIGHT IN THE AMBER SPRINGS MASSACRE.

  “It’s on the TV,” Mrs. Jamison says. “You both need to see this. Come on.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Mrs. Jamison leads us into an expensively decorated living room where a massive wall-mounted screen screams the headlines. She increases the volume, and we all stand around, watching. I lean back against Heath, and he wraps his arms around my waist. On screen, the reporter relays the news.

  “In a shocking development, new video footage handed over to the FBI has, allegedly, provided motive behind the Amber Springs massacre and casts significant doubt over the heretofore unblemished reputation of the victims.”

  A photo pops up on the side of the screen, and Lucinda gasps.

  “Denton Montgomery, a pre-med student at Harvard and a cousin of Todd DeLaurentis, handed the video evidence in to local FBI agents in the Massachusetts office early yesterday morning. According to our sources, he has since been detained, pending prosecution. We’ll bring you further updates as the case develops.”

  The channel switches to a different story, and Mrs. Jamison switches the TV off.

  “You know him?” I ask Lucinda.

  She nods. “Todd hated him. Said he was weak, a fool, but I liked him. He was only around during the summers, so I didn’t know him well, but he was always kind to me, and he was never involved in any of the assaults.” My eyes dart to Mrs. Jamison. “It’s okay,” Lucinda says. “I told my parents everything last year.” The guys share curious looks, and I know they are dying to discover what transpired between Lucinda and me in the sunroom, but they’re too polite to ask in front of her mother.

  “I need to get home.” I pull my cell out of my jeans pocket, scanning tons of missed calls. I’d deliberately muted it while we were here. “My parents have been trying to contact me.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Mrs. Jamison agrees.

  I kneel so I’m eye level with Lucinda. “Thank you for telling me, and it gives me comfort to know my brother had love in his life.”

  “Thank you for being so gracious; although I’m not surprised because Ethan was an incredible human being too.”

  “You take care of yourself. And remember what I said.”

  “You too,” she agrees, clutching my hand.

  We walk in silence to the front door. “Thank you for coming here today. I know my daughter needed to tell you that.” Mrs. Jamison offers me her hand, and I shake it.

  “I wish her well.”

  I proceed to fill my guys in on the ride back to the airport. The mood is solemn, and I’m not sure what awaits me back in Florida. I called my parents, and they are picking us up from Jacksonville International.

  “Do you think it’s the same video Ethan was sent?” Heath asks in a low voice when we’re settled in our first-class seats awaiting takeoff.

  “Probably but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Mom mentioned they were with the FBI, so I expect they’ll have some answers when we land.

  “Stuff’s blowing up online,” Skeet says, his fingers flying over the keypad of his phone. “I think you can expect the news will be all over campus too.” He switches off his cell as the plane starts moving, threading his fingers through mine.

  “I knew it would come out eventually. Maybe it’s better it’s now. We can deal with the backlash and then move on.”

  He kisses my cheek, and his eyes shine with love. “You never cease to amaze me. Most people would fall apart with everything you’ve learned recently, but you keep battling. I’m proud of you.”

  I kiss him softly on the lips. “The old me would’ve fallen apart, but I have better coping mechanisms now, and I’m not going to be a prisoner of my past. All I’m guilty of is bad judgment in not reporting the rape, but I haven’t done anything wrong, and I’m not going to let anyone treat me like I have.”

  A welcoming committee is waiting at the gate after we disembark the plane. Mom and Dad are standing with a tall, imposing-looking man in a charcoal-gray suit. Mom rushes toward me, enveloping me in her arms. “Are you okay, honey?”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Good. Everything’s going to be fine.” She loops her arm through mine, turning her attention to the guys. “It’s nice to see you all again.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Simpson,” Heath says, as Skeet smiles at her.

  “Is he FBI?” Ax asks, jerking his head at the guy in the suit.

  She nods. “We’ve been talking with them and they’d like Blaire to come back to the field office in Jacksonville.”

  “Why exactly?” I ask.

  She clears her throat. “They have some questions to ask you, but Denton Montgomery has also asked to see you. If you feel up to it,” she tacks on the end.

  I look over at my guys, and just having them here gives me the courage to see this through. “I want to talk to him. I need to know.”

  The trip to the field office is conducted mostly in silence, and I’m lost in thought the entire ride, wondering what Todd’s cousin is going to tell me.

  The FBI supervisory agent in charge is very nice, and he goes out of his way to make me feel comfortable once we are seated in the interview room. A female agent joins him as they ask me questions about the events at the party the summer before I turned fifteen. As I’m here voluntarily, Skeet insisted on coming into the room with me, and I’m glad he’s here. Just holding his hand gives me the strength to relay those awful events again.

  “Mr. Montgomery has confirmed he was the person who recorded the assault on you that night. Your statement corroborates the video evidence, not that we were in any doubt of the heinous nature of this crime. It’s clear from the video that you were drugged, and it was not consensual,” the supervisory agent explains in a gentle tone.

  I force my anxiety aside, trying to avoid thinking about how many people have seen me like that.

  “What happens now?” Skeet asks.

  “While Mr. Montgomery didn’t participate in the rape, he still stood by and let it happen. What’s more, he had access to that recording, and he held onto it for all these years instead of coming forward sooner. While we appreciate he voluntarily handed it, and himself, in, he will be charged as an accessory to statutory rape.”

  “Why now?” I ask. “What prompted him to hand the evidence over now?”

  “From what our colleagues have told us, it’s tormented him for years. He attended a two-year memorial service the family organized recently, and he was sickened by the way people were talking about Todd like he was a saint. He said that was the tipping point for him. He knew the truth had to come out, and he finally plucked up the courage to do what he should’ve done years ago,” the SAC confirms.

  “I don’t want the video made public,” I blurt.

  “Of course not. We would never release anything of such a sensitive nature into the public domain, and as Mr. Montgomery has already confessed, there is no need for a trial.” He reaches across the table, patting my hand. “That tape won’t ever see the light of day.”

  “What about those bastards who raped Blaire?” Skeet grits out. “Will the public record be set straight?”

  “That’s already out of our control,” the female agent confirms.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, glancing between them.

  “Mr. Montgomery sent an open letter of apology to you via the New York Times. While he was respectful, he also makes it clear what they did to you and how ashamed he is that he did nothing to stop it.” She pulls a newspaper cutting out of a manila folder and slides it across the table to me. “You can have this copy.”

&
nbsp; “And are any of the police offers involved in investigating the shooting being charged for burying evidence?” Skeet asks, eyeballing the SAC.

  “The police didn’t bury any evidence,” he coolly confirms. “We’ve spoken to the officers involved in the case and the technician who conducted a forensic analysis of Ethan Simpson’s iPhone and iPad. Both devices had been wiped clean and the archived files permanently deleted. We were unable to retrieve anything that could help. The police weren’t aware of this recording. If they had found it, they’ve have been duty bound to admit it as evidence.”

  Skeet look skeptical, but it makes sense to me now. “Ethan was still protecting me. He knew the police would take his things, so he got rid of the evidence because he didn’t want anyone to see that recording. It’s why he told me not to tell anyone what they had done to me.” A lump wedges in my throat. “He knew everyone would think he was a monster, but he didn’t care because he was sparing me from that.”

  No one knows how to respond, if there even is any response to that, and the room descends into silence for a couple minutes. When there’s a knock on the door, the female agent gets up, popping outside for a second. I stare at the newspaper article in my hand before folding it up and placing it in my purse. I’d rather read it in private and after I’ve met Todd’s cousin. I don’t want to walk into that room influenced by anything I’ve read. He may not have raped me, but he did nothing to stop it, and I can’t forgive him for that.

  The female agent confirms Denton Montgomery has arrived. He was escorted here, from Boston, by members of the Chelsea FBI field office.

  She brings me to the meeting room where he lies in wait for me. He’s asked to see me alone and I prefer that too. I’m afraid if I bring any of the guys, or my parents, in with me, that one of them will end up on a murder charge.

  “We’ll be watching from the observation room,” the female agent tells me, as my parents and the guys shuffle into the hidden room. “We don’t believe he poses any threat to you, but we’ve still handcuffed him to the table. If anything happens, I’ll be there straightaway.”