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Epilogue

Porter

Waves crashed behindme, and I could taste the salt off the ocean as the wind blew across my face. It was a perfect day, the first perfect day I could actually remember.

Nothing was going to ruin this moment.

The sound of a Ukulele began to play, signaling that it was time. My mother reached out and touched my arm as she stood beside me, her smile warm and excited. She looked like years had been erased from her face in the last couple of months.

Everything had changed; literally.

Franco was out of the picture, my mother left him after all that shit went down. He was doing hard time with Disesto anyway for helping to orchestrate that whole damn thing.

I wanted to kill them both, and I wouldn't say I won't be happy when either one takes their very last breath. But I was glad that I had kept my control, I was happy that I didn't allow that evil to control me anymore.

Taking the stand to tell my story wasn't easy, it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But I did it, and through that I was given a second chance in this life. I was allowed to start over.

At first I thought my mother would be depressed that Franco was gone, but that wasn't the case. She looked lighter, like the weight that had been on her shoulders was gone. The mother I remembered from when I was a really young boy had come back to me. She was smiling all the time now, and was more than ready to start this new chapter of her life.

We were moved to the other side of the country, finding refuge with a new name in a new place, where no one would know who we were. As far as any of the assholes back home were concerned, we were invisible.

George Donovan. . . Can you believe that shit? That's the name the witness protection program gave me; fucking George Donovan. But at home, I was still Porter. I didn't think anyone would ever find us here anyway, but it was better to be safe than sorry—Emery's words, not mine.

Looking down at the small cluster of seats, Emery's grandmother was sitting in a white wicker chair at the base of the small platform, rubbing her hands back and forth nervously as she would periodically wipe her eyes with a tissue.

Everything was perfect.

The sun, the sky, even the damn air was exactly as it should be for today. Because today, I was marrying the woman of my dreams.

The minister, or as the locals call him, the kahu, cleared his throat and shifted his feet, positioning his small book in front of this chest. His eyes were set ahead, and you could see just how much time had passed through this man's hands.

Small creases crept out from the corner of his eyes, his smile was light and airy as a permanent twinkle kept shining in his pupils. The band of flowers around his head danced gently in the breeze as he lifted a conch shell to his lips and blew.

On the outside I looked calm and relaxed, but inside I was a mess. My nerves were running wild, my heart was racing, and my stomach was doing so many flips I thought I was going to throw up.

Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly as I stared at my feet. It was a strange feeling, to be standing on the beach, about to give myself to a woman who had become my world. I never thought I'd be here, not a chance in hell.

I expected my life to end, I never thought it would just be beginning.

Closing my eyes for a second, I touched the small locket in my chest pocket. My mother had given it to me a few days before I had gone into court to testify against Marcos Disesto. She told me it was a symbol of strength and love, filled with my brother's ashes. I've kept it with me ever since, refusing to put it down.

He was here with us today, standing by my side as my best man, silently smiling down on us from above. I had to believe that, because I could feel him.