Charged

  “That weekend, Autumn’s mom called the house and told my mom that she found her daughter hanging from the rod in the closet. Autumn committed suicide. She didn’t leave a note, so I was the only person that knew why. I went to the funeral, I watched her parents sob as they lowered her into the ground, and all I could think was, once again, I had done nothing. I hadn’t told anyone. Maybe if I had, she would still be here to tell her story. For a minute, I even thought that it should be me in the ground, but I knew there was no way I could ever do that to my parents. I made them suffer enough because I spent every single waking hour trying to.” She shrugged helplessly. “I guess I was trying to even the score. I went from being a girl that liked a party and a good time, to being a girl that was on the verge of destruction. I purposely found boys that were no good, instead of stumbling onto them like I had before. I started drinking a lot more, dabbled in drugs here and there, but quickly found out that wasn’t something I enjoyed. I wanted to hurt, to feel the pain I knew Autumn went through, and drugs made me numb and made me forget. I stopped pretending to even kind of try in school, and stopped trying with my mom. Before that night I was wild, after that night I was out of control. I wanted to hurt in all the ways I could hurt, but it was never enough. I could never make up for what happened to her, what she lost. Eventually, I went to her parents and told them what happened. I told them about the party and the attack. I told them about the baby.”

  She lifted a hand to her face and pressed tightly into her temples. “I thought it would help them find closure, that they would have some solace in understanding that Autumn felt trapped.” A tear leaked, finally escaped whatever invisible force field that had been holding them back as she spoke. It clung to her dark lashes and then dropped, falling silently, until it disappeared under the curve of her chin. “They told me what I had known from the night it happened. Her mom told me that it was my fault, that it should have been me. Their daughter was a good girl, a sweet kid, until she hooked up with me. I ruined her and then I killed her. They told me I was the one that should be dead, not their daughter. I deserved to suffer every ounce of pain that was filling me up for putting Autumn in that situation in the first place. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell my parents what had really happened. They knew Autumn was gone, knew that I felt responsible, but they were already so disappointed in the choices I was making, choices that were so much worse than the ones I had been making before. I couldn’t bear the thought of them looking at me like Autumn’s parents did. If they blamed me as well, how could I live with myself? I was used to their disappointment but I knew I couldn’t survive their disgust.”

  She swiped at the damp trail the tear had left on her face and returned her tortured gaze to mine. “So I did nothing and it killed my best friend. That’s my story and her story, the entire ugly truth of it, Counselor.” Her breath shuddered out of her and her watery eyes locked on mine. “Do you still like what you see and what you get when it comes to me, Quaid?”

  Her self-loathing was evident, and so was the guilt and responsibility over the tragic event that was hanging around her neck like a leaden anchor.

  I walked towards her until I had her backed into the door once again. I put my hands on either side of her face and tilted her head back so that she was looking up at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

  “I’ve been a defense attorney for a few years now, and if there is one thing that all my clients, whether they’re innocent or guilty, have in common it’s blame. It’s always someone else’s fault and it’s always someone else’s responsibility that they’re in the situation they’re in. No one wants to be accountable for the choices they made that led to them needing a defense in the first place. All of my clients are like that, except for you, Avett. You own your choices, you take the responsibility, and you don’t make excuses for your behavior. What happened to your friend is horrific, and no young woman should ever have to go through that, especially alone, but she made the choice to go with you. She made the choice to take that drink. She made the choice to not say anything to people that could help. Did you force her to go with you that night?” She slowly shook her head in between my hands. “Did you tell her that your friendship was over if she didn’t go with you?” Again with a negative response. “Did you do anything different that night than you did any other night the two of you went somewhere you probably shouldn’t have been?”

  This time she breathed out a soft, “No.”

  “Then you need to realize that what happened wasn’t your fault. Was it awful and avoidable, yes, but the only people to blame are the men that attacked your friend. I don’t care if both of you walked into that house naked and ready to party. Consent has to be given and those boys took the option to say yes or no away from her. They are at fault. Not you and certainly not her.” I narrowed my eyes as I thought about how devastating that conversation with the other girl’s parents must have been for her. “Her parents were looking for someone to hand the blame off onto because they were hurting and looking for a target to land that pain on. No parent wants to think they failed their child, that they may have missed the clues that their kid was hurting and in trouble and that they may have been able to do something to help them. It makes them feel inadequate as well as heartbroken. I see it every day in court when parents are in disbelief that their baby is capable of hurting someone else or themselves so they look for any other reasonable explanation as to how things could go so horribly wrong. It’s gotta be someone else’s fault. You painted a bright red bull’s-eye on yourself and they fired at will.”

  I bent my head and kissed her softly, comfortingly. I rubbed my lips across her still-swollen ones and let my tongue trace the cute little dip in her top lip. She needed someone to take care with her, and while I didn’t think I had any care in me left to give, I was surprising the both of us by doling it out like it was in endless supply.

  “Your story doesn’t change how I see you, Avett, but it does change how tolerant I’m going to be with your bad decision making because, sadly, your story is one that belongs to a lot of young women. Some even have the same tragic ending as your friend. Your story and her story are not singular and it kills me to tell you that I see similar stories with similar outcomes pass in and out of court all the time. Those stories all have one thing in common—guilt and blame, too often placed on the incorrect person. There is no need for you to be looking for some kind of cosmic punishment—you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  At least, she hadn’t that night. Doing nothing wasn’t the right choice for either of the girls to make, but sadly, it was the choice too many young women that were victimized made when they found themselves in that situation. Too often the responsibility was taken on by the victim, instead of staying placed on the attacker where it belonged, and that blame did horrific things, like make her friend feel like there was no way out of everything she was suffering through besides ending her own life, and it clearly led Avett to believe she was the one responsible for the actions of those depraved and damaged boys.

  She didn’t respond, so I pushed back from the door once again and decided it was time for me to go. I had no more wisdom or guidance left to impart on her tonight. Plus, I needed a few minutes to myself to fully comprehend how complicated and deep the waters that ran inside this complex young women were. She fascinated me and captured my attention in a way that was alarming. I’d been focused on work and on moving on from my disastrous marriage so single-mindedly that to have all of that suddenly sidelined by an intriguing pink-haired temptress was enough to give a man whiplash.

  “I’m going to see about the patrol unit, but you need to call your dad so that you aren’t here the rest of the night alone.”

  She balked immediately at the order and took a step towards me. “I told you, I didn’t want to pull him away from my mom.”

  I knew that was going to be her answer, so I shook my head before she got all of the words out.

  “Call him, because I’m going to b
e on the phone with him in twenty minutes after I call DPD and ask them about a patrol. If I’m the one that wakes him up and pulls him away from a warm bed and a willing woman, it won’t go over as well as if you do it.” None of this was the way I typically talked to anyone, let alone a woman I desperately wanted to get naked and nasty with, but all my typical norms and behaviors seemed to have dried up and been replaced with this new incarnation of myself that was a haphazard mishmash of where I had been and where I was now. I let her go and pulled open the door. “This time, actually stay away from the goddamn windows. Whoever was driving that car nearly ran me over, so there is no telling what they would do to you if they get a clear shot.”

  She shivered a little and grabbed the edge of the door as I exited through it. “Aye-aye, captain.” The sarcasm was heavy in her voice and in her actions as she lifted her fingers to her forehead and gave me a little salute.

  “Seriously, Avett. You told me you never do the right thing even when it’s the only thing to do, so this is me not giving you a choice. Call your dad and keep your head down until we know what in the hell is going on.”

  She frowned at my harsh tone but relented and gave me a little nod. “All right. I’ll call him and stay away from the windows and the doors.” Her timid tone halted me when I reached the bottom of the steps. “Quaid.” I turned to look up at her and almost ran back up the front steps of the house when I saw how adorable and rumpled she looked propped up in the doorway. To hell with respect and rationale.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you for giving me your number. Thank you for answering my call. Thank you for showing up to make sure I was all right.” She paused to catch her breath as the words tumbled out each faster than the other. “Thank you for being here and staying even after I gave you my story. Now you know exactly who I am, and you are so much more than nobody to me, Quaid.”

  I opened my mouth and let it close. I hefted the helmet up and fitted it over my tousled hair. Before I pulled it down to cover the rest of my face, I told her, matter-of-factly, “I wouldn’t have done any of those things if you were anyone else, Avett. Your story doesn’t change who you are or how I feel about you. Now, go inside and call your dad.”

  She gave a jerky nod and then disappeared back inside the house. I walked to where I left the bike parked in front of the house and waited for a few minutes to make sure none of the curtains or blinds twitched. I wanted to make sure that she was doing as she was told. When I was satisfied she had hunkered down and would indeed call Brite, I swung my leg over the bike and cranked the engine on. I decided I would cruise by the closest station house and ask them to send a cruiser through the neighborhood.

  It was much harder to deny me what I wanted when I was there to argue my case in person.

  CHAPTER 9

  Avett

  I don’t need a babysitter. It’s almost been a week and the creepy guys in the car haven’t been back. I’m starting to think they were there to take out the bitchy neighbor across the street that won’t lay off her poor boyfriend. If I was him, I wouldn’t hesitate to order a hit on her mouthy ass. That seems like it would be way less painful than actually marrying someone like her.”

  I cut a look at the tall blond man next to me and was rewarded by his lips twitching slightly. He looked down at me with glimmering golden eyes and a smirk that I had seen break hearts and then repair them within the span of mere seconds. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your day than chauffeur me around while I look for a job.” I was sick of being cooped up in the house, and frankly, I was sick of my own company. I decided it was time to do something, to do anything, to get my life back on track and that meant I needed to get a job. Doing nothing wasn’t working for me anymore, and after the purge of all my deepest, darkest secrets and fears I laid at Quaid’s feet, I felt a thousand times lighter and not as weighed down by the past. The fog of recrimination and accusation that I lived in hadn’t exactly lifted off of me, but I was seeing through the density more clearly than I ever had before.

  Doing something meant looking for a job, which I knew would be nearly impossible with a big, bearded biker in tow. After an hour or so of grouching and explaining how important it was to me to get out and be productive, Dad had relented and agreed to let me go on the job hunt, but only if I took one of his boys with me to watch my back should anything happen. In desperation, I acquiesced to his request, and as a result had been gifted with Asa’s presence as my formal keeper and résumé holder all morning and afternoon.

  The smirk on his ridiculously handsome face turned into a full-fledged smile and I heard the woman I had just handed my application to at the small coffee shop near my dad’s house gasp. I was surprised she didn’t use the stack of papers to fan herself. Asa Cross was hot enough to warrant that kind of reaction and she didn’t seem all that interested in using the application and résumé I’d handed over to offer me a job, so she might as well get some use out of it.

  “Believe me, watching you try to be charming and polite to people that you clearly want to strangle is way more fun than anything else that was on my agenda. Besides, your dad asked me to stick with you.”

  I rolled my eyes and pushed open the glass door that led back out to the sidewalk. “And when Brite asks his boys for something …”

  Asa chuckled. “We show up and see it through.”

  I grumbled under my breath and scanned the small neighborhood to see if there was any other kind of shop or café I could stop in and plead my case with, but unfortunately it seemed like I had already made the rounds. I’d dropped my résumé and filled out repetitive applications at every place that had a help-wanted sign or that served some kind of food, with little luck or interest. I was getting frustrated and annoyed and Asa’s obvious amusement at the situation made me want to kick him in the shin. I hadn’t told him that the reason I was so desperate to find a job, or possibly two, was so that I could start to pay my dad back for bailing me out, and also, so I could work towards paying Asa back the money he ponied up to pay Quaid to represent me.

  “I’m surprised he asked the charmer and not the soldier. You come armed with a smile, Rome comes armed—period.” I tugged at the end of my braid and looked down at my dark skinny jeans tucked into well-worn combat boots and the long-sleeved flannel I had on with a lacy cami peeking out of the open collar. It was hipster chic and pretty standard wear for fall in Colorado, but I was wondering if I should have dressed a little more to impress. I wanted to groan. I sucked at impressing.

  “Rome had a business meeting and an appointment with Cora, for the baby. She’s ready to pop. Plus, as much as Rome admires and respects your dad, he’s still working on getting over the robbery … both of them.”

  I cringed involuntarily and blew out a breath that turned into a sigh. “Yeah. I can’t say I blame him for that.” Hesitantly, I reached out and touched the back of his hand where it was wrapped around a to-go coffee. “So, why are you here, Asa? And why did you call Quaid the night I got arrested? You have as much, if not more, reason to hate me than Rome Archer does. Jared could have killed you and Royal that night.” My voice cracked a little and I bit the inside of my cheek to keep more jumbled words and useless apologies from falling out. I couldn’t even begin to express how devastated I would have been if something had happened to him and his pretty cop girlfriend. Asa had been on my case since our very first encounter at the bar. I played it off like I hated him, resented him for being the boss in the bar my family had always owned, mocked his troubled past and self-sacrificing ways, but the truth of it was, I admired him. I appreciated that he never judged me, never belittled me for finding myself in mess after mess. I’d never had any siblings, but if I did, I would want my big brother to be exactly like Asa Cross, flaws and all.

  His amber eyes shifted from where I was touching him to my own and I saw a lifetime of truth and consequences glowing down at me.

  “Have you ever heard your dad tell someone that he just met that ‘lik
e recognizes like’?”

  I nodded absently. It was one of Brite’s favorite sayings. He used it a lot when he met someone and could tell instantly that they had served in any branch of the military. He also used it when he was talking about his brothers on bikes. They might not all have been to war, but men searching for something, men looking for that kind of brotherhood, drew like to like.

  “I’ve heard him say it.”

  Asa nodded and grabbed my elbow so he could walk me across the street towards a small strip mall that had several food trucks parked out in front. Each of the different trucks had a long line queued up in front of it, and the smells coming from them made my mouth instantly water.

  Asa paused before we actually became part of the crowd and turned me to face him with a heavy hand on my shoulder. Those gold eyes of his were impossible to look away from, and even though the words he was saying were hard, his lyrical drawl made them feel like feathers when they hit me.

  “We are alike, Avett, me and you. The shit you do, the shit you feel, after you do it.” He shook his head and his shaggy blond hair fell onto his face. It was easy to see why he had such a potent effect on women and why trouble was so attracted to him. He looked like the kind of man that had being bad down to a science. “I’ve been there. In fact, before Royal, before Denver, I had a permanent place on rock bottom all picked out and was planning to live the rest of my life there. I knew I was fucking up, knew I was doing shit that would haunt me forever and hold me down, but I couldn’t stop. I felt like I had to be the bad guy because I was a guy that had done so many bad things.”

  I wanted to shake his hand off and tell him he didn’t know anything about me. But that was a lie. He did know, and even with that knowledge, he was still here, still trying to make me see that there was more than the next bad decision, and more than making myself feel bad because that’s what I was so sure I deserved.