Tracking down Curtis Malone was trickier than they had anticipated.
He had turned to his contacts in Boston and Washington, both of whom had told Brandon that Curtis' information was confidential.
Rather than needle his contacts about why Curtis' information was confidential, Brandon said he understood.
"If you can contact him for me, tell him his sister's in trouble in Buffalo and he needs to call Brandon Walsh as soon as he gets this message," said Brandon.
"I will relay that information to him," said the contact.
Brandon gave his details, thanked the contact, and then threw down his mobile as he closed his eyes in frustration.
A knock sounded on his door.
"Any luck?" asked Brenda.
"No luck," said Brandon. "Curtis must work for the government or something, because apparently, only Val knows how to reach him."
"Can Steve ask Val how to reach her brother?" asked Brenda.
"I can call him." Brandon opened his eyes. "Shouldn't you be resting?"
Brenda curved both hands on either side of her spine.
"I'm tired of resting," she said. "I want to help Val."
"Where's my soon-to-be brother-in-law?" asked Brandon.
"Suit shopping, with Clare and Donna," said Brenda. "It was the only way Steve was slightly okay with Dylan and I eloping. Brandon," Brenda glanced at her hand that had moved to rest on her abdomen, the expensive jewels in her ring catching the light from the sun, "do you think Dylan and I are rushing into this? Would I have agreed to marry him this quickly, if it were not for the baby?"
"What do you think, Bren?" Brandon tapped the spot beside him.
Brenda joined him on the daybed, with Brandon's help.
She could rarely sit or stand up without help, or a repeated struggle.
"I think I love him," said Brenda. "I know I love him, that I'm ridiculously in love with him. That when I looked up what besotted is in the dictionary when I read it in my book, it was Dylan's face I imagined beside the explanation. I know I want to marry him, but would he have asked me to marry him so soon if I hadn't had all these scares? Would I have agreed if I wasn't terrified of being taken away from him?"
"If you really feel like that, Bren, then I can call up McKay right now and we can talk him into postponing your elopement until after we find out if the court case has been thrown out."
"No," said Brenda. "No, don't do that. I'm just - I'm just nervous, I guess. It's these hormones. They amplify my already muddled emotions."
"It's normal to be nervous," said Brandon.
"Were you nervous?" asked Brenda. "On your wedding day?"
"I was fucking terrified," said Brandon. "It led to me making a decision I deeply regret. A mutual decision, but one still full of regrets."
"Not marrying Kelly?"
"Losing Kelly."
"Dylan lost me, but I allowed him to find me again," said Brenda. "I've put my complete trust in him, opened myself fully to this man that I feel like I've loved forever. And I haven't regretted it."
"Do you have your answer, then?" asked Brandon.
"Yes," said Brenda, twirling her ring. "I have my answer. Thanks, Bran."
"Any time, little sis."
"Barely little!"
"Four minutes little."
Brenda asked Brandon to help her off of the daybed so that she could use the bathroom.
"Your niece thinks my bladder is a water park and she has an all-day pass," said Brenda.
"You're spending too much time with Dylan," said Brandon.
"I'd like to spend time with Dylan in a water park," said Brenda, "but we'd get banned for damaging innocent eyes."
"You're definitely spending too much time with him," said Brandon.
"That one's Clare," said Brenda. "She said she and Steve once fucked in a water park, after she chose him over some prince."
"Didn't you have to pee?" asked Brandon as he tried to mentally scrub out the image behind his eyes.
"I've always need for a wee," said Brenda. "I wonder if I can convince Dylan to build us a water park in our backyard."
"Go pee," said Brandon.
"In the next house," said Brenda. "Not this house. The backyard isn't big enough."
"Pee!" Brandon ordered.
Out of curiosity, Brandon pulled his own dictionary off of the shelf of his desk. He leafed through the pages until he reached the word besotted.
Then slammed his dictionary shut when a particular face came to mind.
As if she had known they had been speaking of her, Kelly's name popped up on Brandon's phone.
"Hey, you," he said. "How's it going over there? Is Rick helping?"
"He's trying, but he said there isn't a whole lot he can do if Val is determined to stay in jail," said Kelly. "David's taken to spending nights in the jail parking lot, just so he can be near her. And seeing that - seeing that, it makes me think of how much I miss you, Brandon. That if you were in jail and they'd banned me from seeing you, I'd probably sleep in the parking lot, too."
"I miss you too, Kel," said Brandon.
"Have you," Kelly ventured, "have you thought about what I told you in the pool?"
He had thought about it, nearly on a loop.
"Yes," he said. "I've been doing a whole lot of thinking lately."
"And?" she asked, hesitantly.
"And you have these moments, on and off, where someone you know dies or comes close, where someone you love is arrested, when you realize how much we take life for granted. But then life hits you again; the workload, the stress, the frustration of it all and that realization you had about the duration of life, the beauty that life can be, flees until the next time you hear a loved one's in the hospital or been diagnosed with a terrible disease. Do you get what I'm trying to say, Kel?"
"Not really," said Kelly.
"You were shot, in a coma for days," said Brandon. "I couldn't fathom what life would be without you, and then when you didn't remember me, my world fell apart. I should have held onto that. I should have held onto the feeling of sitting by your side, holding your hand, begging you to live. Remembered how it felt to question if you would. But I didn't. You came back to me and I still cheated on you. We had a chance to marry, to create this beautiful life we could share, and we ran, ran so far that we convinced ourselves we shouldn't be together."
"I still don't follow," said Kelly.
"I watched David shouting out for Val, trying to fight off officers twice his size to get to her," said Brandon. "I watch Dylan, taking care of Brenda, doing everything he can to help repair Bren's heart and her mind, when the truth is, neither he nor David can do anything. But they both try. They try damn hard. I'm thinking about that day when we decided we were best as friends. I think we are best as friends, Kel."
"Oh," she said, and he could practically see her downcast expression.
"But so are Dylan and Bren, and David and Val," said Brandon. "They've both been great friends to each other, over the years."
"David and Val are in love with each other," said Kelly. "Dylan and Bren are engaged, with their baby's birth fast approaching."
"That's three for three," said Brandon.
"Brandon?"
"Kelly, we've been in love, haven't we?"
"Yes," said Kelly, confused.
"We've been engaged, and we almost had a little baby of our own. Plus, I'd say we're pretty close friends, close enough that you'd help one of mine that you can barely tolerate more than half the time, so that's a slam-dunk right there. Four out of four, straight into the net and onto the scoreboard."
"Brandon, are you - are you…" Kelly couldn't form the words.
"Kelly, can you forgive me for cheating on you? For giving up on us?"
"If you can forgive me for cheating on you and giving up on us," said Kelly with a catch in her throat.
"Can we forgive each other?" asked Brandon.
"I've already forgiven you, Bran," said Kelly. "Can you forgive me for turning back to Dylan when I was convinced I'd permanently lost you?"
"I forgive you, Kel. For everything."
"So what," Kelly nervously cleared her throat, "what happens now?"
"Well, for starters, have you ever thought about how much of the world you want to see?" asked Brandon.
"I have." Kelly's voice cracked. "I'd like to see a substantial portion of it, I think."
"Have you ever pictured anyone beside you while you travel around the globe?"
"You," said Kelly. "I've pictured you. I wouldn't want to travel the world with anyone but you."
"Alright, then put Steve on."
"What?"
"Put Steve on so we can find Curtis, get Val out of jail, welcome Bren's baby, and see if we can continue to stand each other while we're travelling the globe."
"Are you serious?" Kelly squeaked.
"When it comes to you, Kel, I've never been more serious," said Brandon. "That is, if you want to come with me on assignments."
"I'd love nothing more than to come with you, Brandon," said Kelly.
"But not if you have to toss aside your own dreams to do it," said Brandon.
"I can counsel children of addiction anywhere," said Kelly. "You, our life together; that's my dream, Brandon. I got you to square dance. I can get you to polka."
"I'm not taking a polka class," said Brandon. He wished Kelly was beside him so that he could show her the effect her words had had.
Because Kelly Taylor, their life together; that was Brandon's dream, too, one that had reawakened from its slumber.
"I'm sure we can find a polka in the Czech Republic," said Kelly.
She put Steve on.
"Here's what we're gonna do," said Brandon, laying out the plan.
Brenda stood, cooking on the stove as Dylan greeted her and her stomach with a kiss.
In Brandon's fantasy, it was he that cooked as Kelly greeted him with a kiss.
"You take care of my girls while I was out, Walsh?" asked Dylan.
"Always," said Brandon, setting aside his notes. "Successful shopping trip?"
"I'm never going to the shops with those girls again," said Dylan. "They make you try on everything. Clare had me try on a frilly powder blue suit from the eighties. I bet that was Steve's doing and I'm not convinced Arnold didn't sneak a pic for him."
Brandon laughed.
Dylan allowed Brenda to ladle sauce into his mouth for a taste-test.
"Mm." He smacked his lips. "You've got a real talent in the kitchen, babe." He kissed her, leaving the stain of tomato sauce on Brenda's lips. "On the stage." Dylan caressed her stomach. "And in the bedroom."
"Didn't need to hear that," said Brandon.
"Then get your own place, Walsh," Dylan joked.
He knew Brandon would, as soon as Brenda felt enough confidence in herself that Brandon could leave.
As the last time he had left, Brenda had wound up back in hospital with a severe heart condition, not even Dylan was terribly inclined for Brandon to leave again.
"Quit messing with my brother and help me with the meat?" asked Brenda.
"Be happy to, my love," said Dylan as he set about to prepare the meat. "I kept checking my phone in case you texted, but since you didn't, I assume there haven't been more contractions since this morning?"
"None," said Brenda. "Think it was another false alarm."
"You didn't tell me you were contracting," said Brandon.
"They weren't close enough together for me to tell you, and I couldn't disrupt your search for Curtis when nothing was happening," said Brenda. "I am not going back to blasted hospital again just so they can send me home. We were told the contractions might last for days, on and off, and we have the midwife on speed dial if it becomes anything serious."
"Just as long as we can get to City Hall first." Dylan smoothed his free hand down Brenda's waist. "I can't wait to make you my Mrs. McKay."
"I can't wait to be your Mrs. McKay," said Brenda.
Her nerves seemed to have vanished completely, like the sugar she had added to the sauce.
"Did you do your checks?" Dylan asked as he kissed down Brenda's shoulder.
"Both good," said Brenda.
"See that they remain that way," said Dylan. "I rather like the heart you have."
"I thought you had it?" said Brenda.
"I have most of it," said Dylan. "Had to leave you at least half."
"Half of a heart," said Brenda. "Like my necklace." She slid her fingers across the chain around her neck.
"It's an accurate depiction." Dylan rested his head on Brenda's shoulder.
"Have you ever fucked anyone in a water park?" she asked.
"Can't say I have done, no," he said.
"Would you want to?"
"What kind of water park are we talking?"
On that note, Brandon gathered up his materials and stood in a flash.
"I'll leave you two alone," he said. "Got a lotta work to do."
"Don't take too long," said Brenda. "Dinner will be ready soon enough."
She lapsed into a giggle fit over whatever Dylan had done or said as Brandon had walked away.
Probably about what he would do to her in a fucking water park.
"Last antenatal class tonight, right?" asked Brandon over dinner, steering the conversation far away from any talks of water parks or discussions that would inevitably lead there. "How do you feel?"
"A bit awkward that Luca will be instructing." Brenda looked apologetically at Dylan.
"Just focus on me and I'll focus on you and it doesn't have to be awkward," said Dylan as he plied his mouth with lasagna. "König helped us save your life and helped us with this translation thing for Val, so I can be civil with my fiancée's ex. Her last ex."
Brenda fixated on Dylan.
"How is it?" she asked.
"Better than your mother's," he said.
"My mother hasn't had you help her cook the meat. You've really perfected your browning technique."
"I certainly paid enough to learn something in those classes," said Dylan. "Where is Cindy, anyway?"
"She went with your mother to meet that translator," said Brenda. "He's over near the Russian border, so they can still get back in time if this one decides to make an appearance."
"She won't be making an appearance until we marry," said Dylan.
"How do you know?" Brenda drank from her glass of chocolate milk.
"I just do." Dylan reached over to wipe Brenda's chocolate milk mustache with his lips.
The besotted couple's unapologetic display of affection in front of Brandon certainly strengthened his desire for a place of his own.
"Have you decided what you're going to name her?" he asked. "I still say you should go with Brandisa."
"And you thought Byronita was bad," Dylan told Brenda.
"We know exactly what we're going to name her," said Brenda, "and once we put it down on all of the forms, then we'll tell you."
"It won't be Brandisa," said Dylan.
"Well I would've said Branda, but that's too close to Brenda's name," said Brandon. "How about Brandina? Brandonna? Branleya? Branlerie, and then you get Val in there, too."
All Brandon-related names were vetoed, by both his brother and his sister.
"We want her to have a name of her own, so she won't have to feel like she's trying to live up to someone," said Brenda.
"Knowing you two, it'll probably be something nature-related," said Brandon. "Like Oceana or Treela."
His toddler would have likely had a combined name of baseball and fashion, a name that both he and Kelly would have thought a perfect mixture of their passions.
"Maybe," said Dylan. "Bren wants it to be a surprise, so we agreed it would be." He flashed Brenda a secretive smile.
"That gives me a chance to hold her and see if her name fits her before I tell everyone," said Brenda. "Just in case we have to change it."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure it'll fit her," said Dylan, his lips finding a spot behind Brenda's head.
Brandon would have normally withdrawn to his room to work on an article, but he had requested a few days off from work in order to focus entirely on helping Valerie.
Therefore, all he could do was wait for Steve's call.
"Steve?" Brandon answered the phone.
"Brandon, it's Tom. Have you made contact with Curtis yet?"
"Not yet," said Brandon, "but I'm working on it."
"No need," said Tom. "I'm parked beside his car."
"You found him?"
"Val won't let me see her, so I had to do something. One of Curtis' friends knew where he was and coughed it up after a little, uh, persuasion. He's in Iqaluit, on a job."
"Iqaluit?"
"It's in Canada. I'm waiting 'til Curtis gets off work. Want me to call you back when he does?"
Brandon looked around the empty house.
The lovebirds wouldn't be back for hours.
"I'll stay on the line," said Brandon.
He was still waiting as Dylan carried in the sleeping Brenda and brought her into their bedroom to lay her lovingly in their bed.
"Class tired her out," he said. "She fell asleep as soon as we got in the car."
"How'd it go?"
"Bren's a natural," said Dylan. "I'm just not sure I am."
"You'll be a great dad, D."
"I hope so," said Dylan. "I really want to do right by my kids, be the father I always wish I had."
"You're doing it again," said Brandon. "Kid."
"Kids," said Dylan. "Now, I'm gonna go sleep with my fiancée."
"Did I really need to know that?"
"She's conked out, B. You know what kind of sleep I mean."
"I do, but I couldn't resist the urge to tease you."
Brandon had fallen asleep himself, Dylan had gone with Brenda to her session with Alina, and Brandon had fried up his breakfast before Tom finally spoke again.
"You still there, Walsh?"
"Still here, Miller."
"Good. Curtis just stepped out."
Brandon heard Tom's scuffle to get out of the car.
"Curtis!" Tom yelled.
"Tom?" The voice that spoke startled Brandon, as the last time he had seen Curtis Malone, the boy had been pre-pubescent with a crackling voice.
Certainly not the deep, lowly one he had developed that reminded Brandon an awful lot of Victor Malone's.
Brandon couldn't believe that in all the times he had seen Victor, all the times he had considered the man family, Victor had been violating Brandon's kindergarten crush behind closed doors.
Brandon understood why Valerie hadn't told him, but it didn't stop him from wishing she had.
What could he say to her, when she had suffered all those years in silence?
"Have you heard about your sister?" Brandon heard Tom ask.
"Suzie?" Curtis' voice filled with fear. "Did something happen to Suzie?"
"Did something happen to Suzie?" Tom echoed, emphasizing the first word. "The night Victor Malone died?"
"I - I can't say," said Curtis. "I swore I wouldn't."
"Curtis, I need to know exactly what happened the night your father died," said Tom, with urging. "It's important."
"I can't," said Curtis. "I swore. She made me swear."
"Who made you swear?" asked Tom.
"Val. Val made me swear."
That piqued Brandon's interest considerably.
"Curtis," he said, "it's Brandon. Do you remember me?"
"Brandon. Of course," said Curtis. "You and Bobby used to let me play hockey with you guys."
"Curtis, look," said Brandon, "we're not telling you to break your promise to Val, but we need you to help us help Val."
"Help Val?" asked Curtis. "Help her do what? I don't know anything about whatever Abby did in the seventies. You may have noticed my mother isn't exactly an open book."
"This is about so much more than that," said Tom. "Val's in jail, Curtis. She's facing trial."
"What?" asked Curtis. "Why?"
"She pled guilty to the murder of your father," said Brandon.
"What the hell?" Curtis exclaimed. "Val didn't kill him."
"We know," said Brandon. "We know your mother's the one who killed him, and if you help us, we can get her to take the fall for it, not Val."
"No," said Curtis.
"No, you won't help us destroy Abby?" asked Tom. "Curtis, you told me yourself that you overheard the things she and Victor said about your sisters, the plans they had for them. Plans Val doesn't even know about."
"I'd be glad to help you destroy Abby," said Curtis, "if she was the one who had shot Victor that night."
"So it was suicide?" asked Brandon, flummoxed.
"My father would've never killed himself," said Curtis. "He was too up his own ass to do us the favor."
"If Abby didn't kill him, Val didn't kill him, and Victor didn't kill himself," Tom began.
"Then who did kill Victor Malone?" asked Brandon.
"Suzie said she was at a friend's," said Tom. "Did she lie? Did Suzie kill Victor?"
"Do you know how many years I lay awake, listening to Val's screams?" asked Curtis. "Listening to Abby beg Victor to send Val away, thinking that if he did, Victor would get help? My own mother convinced herself that it was Val's mere presence that made our father do the things he did, and then Abby would walk around pretending she was ignorant of everything, that she couldn't hear my sister's screams. I hated Abby. I hated Victor, hated them both. I dreamed of a world without them, where my sisters would be safe."
"Curtis," Brandon's eyes widened, "did you -"
"I killed Victor Malone," said Curtis. "I killed Victor, and I would do it all over again. I would, because I failed to kill Abby with him. If I had truly succeeded that night, both of my parents would be dead and the horrors they both brought on my family would be over. My sister isn't staying in jail for that man, not after everything he did to her. Where is Val?"
"Buffalo," Tom stuttered out.
"Then I'm calling in sick and heading to Buffalo," said cold-blooded killer Curtis Malone.
Would Brandon have killed his own father, Brandon wondered, if his father had repeatedly attacked Brenda the way Victor had done Valerie?
Without question, thought Brandon, who realized then that he did have a murderous bone in his body, however small it was.
"Good news?" asked Brenda from her spot on the mat.
"What are you doing?" asked Brandon.
"My exercises," said Brenda, breathing in as she lowered her head to meet her legs.
"It's supposed to help her with labor and delivery," said Dylan. He knelt before Brenda, one hand on her knee and the other on a stopwatch. "Allegedly eases the pain."
"A needle could do that," said Brandon. "Or so I hear."
"I've had enough needles jabbed in me to last a lifetime," said Brenda.
"No epidural, then?" asked Brandon.
"Not unless they have an epidural you can eat," said Brenda. "Preferably one that tastes like chocolate, especially if it's the chocolates Alina keeps in the glass sweets dish in her office. All I would need is a lifetime supply of those, and I'd be content."
"I thought you wanted a lifetime supply of Fazer bars."
"That too."
Dylan clicked the stopwatch.
"Switch," he said.
Brenda brought her head back up, then repositioned herself until her head pointed towards the floor, her back arched, and her knees pinned to the floor.
Brandon pictured Kelly in the same position, with the same big belly Kelly had been cautioned she would likely never have.
But the doctors had also cautioned that Brenda may never remember and she had, to a point.
Doctors didn't have all of the answers. Miracles did exist.
Maybe he and Kelly could have a miracle of their own, someday, the way Dylan's miracle had been Brenda's survival and tortoise-like regaining of her memories.
It would be in the future; the far, distant future, when Brandon was better prepared mentally to be a father.
When he and Kelly were ready for children; carried by Kelly, adopted, fostered or otherwise.
Maybe a little bit of all three.
"Well, we know Val didn't kill Victor," said Brandon. Part of him remained in a permanent shock from Curtis' confession.
"We already knew that," said Brenda. "Val's the only one of us who thought she did."
"But we were wrong that Abby did," Brandon continued. "And Victor didn't kill himself."
"Then who did kill Val's father and let our Val take the blame for it?" asked Dylan. "She could be home already, if the real killer had come forward sooner."
"Does that mean she's coming home?" Brenda turned doe eyes on Brandon. "I can't keep this baby in much longer, Brandon, and I can't have her without Val. She's supposed to help in the delivery. She's supposed to keep Dylan calm while he's freaking out over me being in pain because you all know Dylan can't stand to see me in pain."
"It's true," said Dylan. "I can't, even if it is for our daughter. And Val probably could somewhat calm me down long enough to remember everything I have to do for Bren."
Brenda rubbed her hand over Dylan's arm. Dylan kissed Brenda's fingers.
"Val needs to come home," said Brenda. "She needs to, Brandon. She didn't kill Victor, so she can't be punished for it. She can't punish herself for something she didn't do."
"She'll be on a flight soon enough," said Brandon. "She and David; Kelly, Steve. They'll all be flying back."
"I still want to know who did kill Victor," said Dylan.
"You two better settle in," said Brandon. "Have I got a story to share with you."
He began to tell the tale of a brother, and the lengths that brother had gone to for the sisters he dearly loved against the parents he intensely loathed.
Even if those lengths had cost the brother his own freedom.
xx
She had already charmed her way into wrapping the guards around her fingers.
The other women were impressed by her charge, that she could go so far as to murder her father.
She saw their faces, the fright in their eyes questioning what else notorious father killer Valerie Malone was capable of.
She had become a queen, and the prison was her queendom.
"Malone, you have a visitor," said the guard, who had told her his name was Alfie.
Alfie didn't sound like a name for a prison guard, Valerie had said as she had grazed her fingers over his bicep, especially one so handsome as the Alfie that stood before her.
He was working the hours to put himself through school, Alfie had told her.
Valerie's cellmate said Alfie had been instantly taken with Valerie, but Val liked to think she had worked her magic on him, first.
"If it's Sanders or Miller, tell them I'm still not interested," said Valerie in a bored tone. She had painted Steve and Tom as desperate exes, to get the guards to immediately turn them away if they even attempted to enter the prison.
They would try to tell her how Brenda was faring and if Brenda wasn't well, Valerie's resolve to remain locked up with her thoughts would slip.
She couldn't allow it to slip, when her memories of that night already were.
She had been so certain she had killed her father, but her mind had begun telling her otherwise.
"And if it's that lawyer of mine, I already told him I'm not changing my plea," said Valerie. "He's wasting his time by trying to get me to."
"Your lawyer's Harrington, right?" asked Alfie.
Rick Harrington, the needle in Valerie's side since he had taken her case.
"Yeah," said Valerie.
"Ain't Harrington," said Alfie. "He said his name's Silver."
Valerie leapt up from her bed.
"I'll go," she said.
"You aren't David," she told the man who entered the visiting room.
"No love for your younger brother?" asked Curtis.
His hair was longer than she had last seen it. Shaggier. Bleached.
The complete opposite hair color of their father, which was Curtis' natural shade.
"I've got all the love for you, baby bro," said Val, "but I'm kinda annoyed at you right now for pretending to be David."
"That one blond friend of yours thought it might be the only person you'd allow in," said Curtis. "The broad one, with the shoulders."
"Steve," said Val. "I've allowed my lawyer in."
"Ain't no way in hell I'll ever pretend to be a dirty, rotten lawyer," said Curtis.
That would have made Valerie laugh, if she wasn't petrified why her brother was there.
He should have been on his route. Long-haul trucking, or whatever it was Curtis did.
He had never been too straightforward about his work.
Assuming her brother was deeply embedded in the crime scene, Valerie hadn't asked questions.
She just figured he was a forger, or perhaps a thief of the world's valuables.
Whatever he was, he looked good.
And while he had the misfortune of having their father's voice, he hadn't gained Victor's appearance, which was a salve of its own.
"You don't remember what happened that night, do you?" asked Curtis as he peered at her.
"I remember," said Val. "He told me I had stopped being fun, that he missed the chase. That it was time for a fresh face, someone younger and less angry. That I had served my purpose. And before I could have just a second to relish in that, to relish in being free of him, to climb out the window and go to Tom's, Victor headed for Suzie's room. While she slept. I stopped him, before he could do to her what he had done so many times to me. And then, Victor knocked me to the floor, so I grabbed the gun Tom had given me and shot Victor in the head."
"No," said Curtis, "you didn't."
"I did," Val insisted. "I did shoot him."
"You tried to shoot him, Val. Your hands shook as you held the gun. You couldn't go through with it."
"Lies." Val covered her ears. "You're lying!"
"I had stolen a gun off of Gabe's old man," said Curtis. "He was a cop. He had a stash of them. It was easy to find the key to the gun cabinet and grab one."
"I can't hear you," said Val, even though she could.
"Valerie, I've already confessed. I don't have much time before they take me away and they free you, so you're gonna hear me out," said Curtis. "And then you're gonna get out of here, to go be with your friends and have the life our asshole of a father repeatedly yanked away from you. You aren't gonna let him win, Val. You aren't."
Valerie released her hands. Her tears fell into them.
"Curtis, you're my brother. I can't let you do this."
"And I can't let you go to prison for me, when we both know that I'm the one who pulled the trigger on Victor," said Curtis, tears in his own eyes. "And I don't regret it, Val. Not for one minute."
It came to Valerie then, the onslaught of repressed memories. The gun, how the cold metal had clattered from her fingers. Victor's taunts that Valerie couldn't save her sister. How he had grabbed her and pinned her to the floor of the bathroom. How she had struggled, trying to reach for the gun. How the shot had rung out. How Victor had fallen on her. How she had pushed him off.
The blood. The blood, on the bathroom tile.
"You told me no one could ever know I did it," said Curtis. "You made me swear to never tell anyone, that we'd pretend Victor had committed suicide. That I couldn't ruin my life for him, the way you're doing now."
"I wanted to protect you so badly, I made myself believe I killed Victor," Valerie realized. "My dreams, all those dreams of finding his body, of wading through his blood; my dreams have been trying to remind me what really happened."
"We both wanted to protect Suzie," said Curtis, "but who was gonna protect you if I didn't? And don't say yourself. You'd been protecting yourself from him since I was born. I asked Gabe what he would do if someone he knew had repeatedly hurt his sister. He said he wouldn't let them get away with it, and Victor had been getting away with it for too long. I had to take action. It was time for someone else to protect you, Val. Time for me to protect you."
"Curtis, you're twenty years old. You have your entire life ahead of you. Don't throw it away on a man who doesn't deserve it," Val begged.
"But it's fine for you to throw away yours?" asked Curtis.
Tom entered the room.
"You ready, buddy?" he asked Curtis.
"I'm ready," Curtis nodded.
As he stood, Valerie desperately longed to tell him that it would be alright, that Curtis would be, that they would free him.
But if Curtis' mindset had been anything like Valerie's had been since her arrest, it was futile to try.
"I love you," she told him instead. "Whatever happens, you'll always be my baby brother."
"Go be free, big sis," said Curtis.
Valerie watched, helpless as she was released, as Curtis was arrested in her place.
She fiercely hugged him, as quickly as she could before Curtis disappeared behind the doors Valerie had just left.
Valerie would have toppled over, had strong arms not caught her waist.
She knew those arms, knew them well.
The only arms that had brought her some semblance of comfort when her house had brought none.
"I take it this will be the last time I hold you," said Tom, stroking Valerie's hair as she sobbed into his chest.
"I thought I would be free," said Val. "I thought jail would make me free."
"You will be free," said Tom, "and you have to leave Buffalo behind, once and for all."
"But Curtis -"
"Curtis will be moved, to a penitentiary elsewhere in the state," said Tom. "Maybe elsewhere in the country. When that happens, I'll tell you where he is and you can visit him. There is nothing for you here, Val. Nothing you want to remember. Nothing you should have to remember."
Footsteps approached.
"What about you?" asked Val.
"I'll be okay," said Tom, "as okay as anyone can be after this. After loving a girl like you for so long. But you were right, when you said we can't be together. I love you too much for you to look at me every day and see your eyes dim whenever you're reminded of the cruelty of your father. But he -"
Valerie lifted her head from Tom's chest, and her eyes found David's.
"He loves you enough for me to let you go," said Tom.
David stretched out arms that trembled with the intensity of an earthquake. Steve stood behind him, Kelly beside Steve.
David had shielded Valerie from an earthquake before.
Maybe, thought Val, maybe it was time for her to trust that he could do so again.
"I love you, too," Val told Tom, kissing his brow for the last time. "I always will. If I'm going to put all of this behind me and try to be happy, then you have to, as well."
Leaving Tom's arms, Valerie sprinted into David's.
He met her halfway and folded her into him.
"Never," he took her chin, "never do anything like this again," he said, and Valerie could see in David's eyes the days he had spent in despair of his own.
"What, shoot someone? Or get arrested for it?" Valerie tried to joke, but no one laughed.
She spotted Rick Harrington, talking to a small group of police officers.
Valerie gestured him over.
David remained draped around her as Val spoke to Rick.
"Sorry I couldn't help you," said Rick. "You're probably the most obstinate client I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and I've met my share of frustrating clients."
"I am," said Val.
"Guess I'll give back the retainer," said Rick, his voice carrying ample reluctance.
"Hang on," said Val. "Who paid the retainer?"
"I told you. I'm sworn to secrecy," said Rick.
The lack of poker faces around her told Val exactly who had hired Rick.
"Leave him to me," she told Rick. "I'll get him to let you keep your money, so you can use it to represent my brother."
"Your brother?" asked Rick.
"Curtis Bradley Malone, the man who shoved my ass in the direction of freedom," said Val. "You're gonna get him released and if you can't, at least make sure his sentence is light, that he's tried for self defense."
Valerie gulped in the fresh air that surrounded her as David, Steve, and, to her immense surprise, Kelly, all pulled Val in to their embrace.
"You and Bren have got to stop trying to give us all strokes," said Steve. "And I'll try to not resent how you refused to let me visit you, Malone."
"It was easier that way," said Val.
"You know how hard Bren's pregnancy has been for her," said Kelly. "You couldn't let her finish it out without unneeded drama? Had to get the attention on you? Brandon said Bren's been worried sick about you, and all that worrying isn't good for her or her baby."
"Love you too, Kel," said Valerie, because in that fleeting moment, she did.
She loved everything that surrounded the exterior of the prison. The mostly clear sky, with just a few wisps of cloud. The astroturf in place of grass. The woodpecker carving out a place in its tree. The hummingbird that hovered over a lilac bush. The truck that belonged to Tom. The chipmunk rolling along an acorn. Steve Sanders. Kelly Taylor.
And, most of all, David Silver.
"Can I take you home?" asked David.
"Not yet," said Val.
She took David's hand and led him away from the other two.
"You never gave up on me," she said, looking into the grey-blue eyes that had accompanied her in her dreams. "Even when the facts were against me, you didn't give up."
"None of us gave up," said David.
"Nat said you stole a police car to get yourself arrested. Is that true?"
"It wasn't my smartest decision, especially since all it did was ban me from seeing you."
"It was reckless," said Val. "Idiotic."
"Thanks," said David.
"But I'm reckless," said Val. "And idiotic."
"We could be reckless together," David suggested.
"Or we can help keep each other from our worst impulses," said Val. "Help each other down from the ledge when we're tempted to rocket off."
"You have no idea how much I've missed you," said David.
"I think I have some idea," said Val.
Their lips met in an explosion that, to Valerie, felt the pinnacle of freedom.
Far more freedom than she would have found in the belly of a prison, no matter how much she had reigned over her queendom.
"I love you," she told David. "I'm recklessly in love with you, that I'd probably also steal a police car to join you in jail. But just so you know, if you break up with me a third time, we're done. I'm not the Walshes. I only give so many chances to my exes."
"Noted," David grinned with a kiss to Val's forehead. "Let's go home, Val."
"I've never really had a home away from the Walshes," said Val. "I've always longed for a home like theirs."
"Then let's go home to the Walshes and once Bren's baby arrives, we'll make a home of our own."
"I don't want kids yet, David."
"I was thinking more of a dog," said David. "Or I could go for a cat. I had one, when I was younger. Mom's, ah, mental difficulties scared it away. Dad said they had given it to a good family, but I knew the truth."
"I always wanted a cat," said Val. "Abby's allergic."
"You, me, and a cat," said David. "That's your new home."
"You two coming, or what?" yelled Steve. "We're gonna miss the flight, and Brandon said Bren's started having contractions! I'm not missing the birth of my niece because I was across the world in fucking New York State. Clare will never let me forget it if she's there and I'm not."
"Oh no she doesn't." Val climbed into the car without releasing David's hand. "Bren may be contracting, but she won't go into labor. Not without me."
"Where was that selfishness and narcissism when we were all waiting for you to plead not guilty?" asked Kelly. Her tone was light, and Val knew that it was Kelly's way of scolding her for scaring the shit out of David.
"Drive," Valerie instructed Steve. "We're getting the hell out of Dodge, and back across the sea."
"About fucking time," said Steve as he floored the engine. "Do you know how many days it's been since I've gotten laid?"
They all glared at him, as he had slept with Clare much more recently than any of them had slept with anyone.
Spotting a cop car up ahead, Steve slowed down to the speed limit.
"Abby may not have killed Victor," David told Val, "but she did something at that festival. And when we find out what it was, your mother is going down for it. She had you arrested. She took you from me. She didn't protect you or your sister from that vile man; in fact, from what Curtis implied, if Abby had her way, it wouldn't have been just Victor. She doesn't get to walk away from that."
"What do you mean, it wouldn't have been just Victor?" asked Val.
"I shouldn't tell you," said David.
"David Melvin Silver, you better tell me this instant, or I have no problem withholding sex from you for the foreseeable future."
"Prostitution," David expelled a breath. "Curtis found papers signed by your mother that she had planned to sell you and your sister into prostitution. Curtis said Abby and Victor had argued over it earlier that day. She wanted to send you and Suzie away. Thought the promised money would entice Victor, but he wanted both of you for himself too much to be tempted by thousands."
Every good memory Valerie had grasped onto of her mother's rare moments of decent parenting evaporated into a cloud of smoke.
"Abby Malone is no mother of mine," she said. "And no one, nothing, will take me from you again. Especially not my past."
"Then let's build our future, Val," said David.
"Are you asking what I think you're asking?" asked Val.
"I'm asking you to consider it, eventually. Two children of miserable marriages don't have to have a miserable one themselves."
"I'll consider it," said Val, "but for now, I could really use a nap."
"Then sleep," said David, pulling a blanket over her. "I'll wake you when we get to the airport."
"If I don't want to wake up?" asked Val.
"I'll carry you onto the plane."
"You'd fall over."
"I'd have Steve help me."
Valerie settled in for a nap in David's arms, the first dreamless sleep she had had since returning to her parents' house and the reminders the trip had brought that she had purposely forgotten.
It would be the last time she stepped foot in that house.
But not the last time she saw Albina Gotti-Malone.
No, the last time Val planned to see Abby was when she would watch as Abby answered for whatever crimes she had committed that Valerie, her boyfriend, and her family of friends would expose.
Because David was right.
Abby didn't get to walk away that easily.
And Valerie would ensure she didn't.
-x
Sources: Google and the website for UT Southwestern Medical Center.
(Shout-out to Crystal and KJ to express my continued gratitude and appreciation, as well as those of you whose review I could respond to directly.)
Thanks a million! x