I whirl around on a gasp, staring at the guy who just said the best sentence I’ve ever heard. “Why?” I ask, my voice a harsh whisper. Anger and relief war within me and I tell myself to let it go.
At least he’s coming back.
“Because those are your two favorite things. I think he’s become your third favorite thing, not that I approve. I have a feeling the kid is nothing but trouble.” He rounds the couch and sits beside me.
“Evan,” I start to protest but he shuts me off in that way he has. With the pointed glare and firm shake of his head I’ve become so accustomed to.
“I’m serious, Rev. I’ll let you go with him to give that statement to the police. It’s the right thing to do, I get that, but I don’t want you spending too much time with him. You’re too young to get all serious with a guy who’s had zero chances in life. Walk away while you can.”
His words are harsh. He’s asking me to give up on someone I love. How can I do that? “What if I can’t?” I whisper. “What if I don’t want to?”
“You can and you have to,” Evan says firmly. “The minute you’re done giving your statement and cutting that poor guy a break, your butt is coming back here on a Greyhound bus. So you’ll be home by late tonight, you got it? I already gave him cash to pay for your ticket. I’ll pick you up at the bus station, just make sure you text me what time you’re supposed to get there.”
Evan has it all planned out and he didn’t even tell me. When did he talk to Nick about this? Does he know what’s going on? And Evan can’t afford to pay for a stupid bus ticket, not that Nick can afford to drive me back and forth and then back again on his own. “Are you serious? That ticket must’ve cost too much…” I have no idea what a bus ticket costs but it had to have been pricey.
“It was cheap, don’t worry.” He moves from the couch lightning fast so he’s kneeling in front of me, his face in mine, grim determination etched in his features. I stare at Evan, blinking at him, waiting for the speech that I know is coming. He’s become a man in such a short amount of time and he’s doing a bang up job of it. “You need to get in and get out quick. Nick seems all right but he’s had some tough times. The kid never seems to catch a break.”
“I’m trying to be the break he catches,” I murmur, reaching out to grab Evan’s hand and grip it tight. “I want to help him, not hurt him.”
“Then help him with the statement and walk away. If you try and stick with him, this won’t end well and you know it.”
“You can’t predict the future, Evan. You don’t know how it’ll end.”
“How does everything else end for this kid, Rev? Like shit, that’s how,” he practically spits out, sounding angry. “In and out of jail, his mom dies, his ex-girlfriend is freaking murdered.” I start to say something, shocked that he knows all about Nick, but he cuts me off with a stern look. “Yeah, I’ve done my research and he told me a few things. You’ve been dealing with nothing but shit lately and you’re holding on to this guy like he could be your savior. Why, because he’s kissed you a few times and rocked your world?”
I look away, immediately uncomfortable. No way am I answering that. My hot cheeks are probably answer enough.
“And I definitely don’t want to know what you two have done because that’s just disgusting. You’re my sister.” He shakes his head, dismissing that particular subject thankfully, and then he squeezes my hand, forcing me to meet his gaze once more. “I’m trying to protect you, Rev. Stay away from him. I know you think you’re in love with him or whatever but it isn’t going to work between you two. I know it.”
They’re all trying to protect me and it’s so annoying. I sometimes wish they’d leave me alone. And how does he know it’s not going to work with Nick and I? His saying that makes me want to prove him wrong.
“You don’t know for sure,” I tell him. “If I take your advice, we’re doomed before we start.”
“Aren’t you already doomed? Think about it.”
Evan leaves me to take a shower and I do think about it, pacing back and forth in the living room as I chew on my index finger. I think about it too much, Evan’s words racing through my mind, filling me with doubt. Are we already doomed? I don’t doubt my decision to help him with the police because I refuse to let him get caught up in that game again if I can put a stop to it. And I can. I’m his alibi and I won’t let them harass him anymore.
But beyond that…should we continue to see each other? I don’t know much about Nick, and what he’s told me hasn’t been a lot. We haven’t known each other long. He’s so sweet and patient with me. Our summer romance filled my heart with silly, overblown expectations I’m sure. I felt so connected to him, so convinced that we were meant to be together.
But is that enough? Everyone thinks we’re young and stupid and they’re probably right.
Muttering in frustration, I run to my bedroom and go to my dresser, pulling open the top drawer. I dig beneath my panties and bras to pull out the tiny rose-colored glass bottle, the one that Nick gave me for my birthday.
I stare at the label, the neatly printed “dreams” centered perfectly in the center. I had dreams. I believed in them too. They were taken from me, one after another over the last few months and I let that deter me. Nearly let it destroy me.
“Hey.”
I glance up to find Nick standing in my bedroom doorway, one arm braced above him and gripping the wood frame. He looks good in a pair of charcoal gray sweats sitting low on his hips, his long-sleeved white T-shirt riding up a bit, displaying a sliver of his flat stomach. A shiver moves through me and I drop the bottle back into the drawer and shut it with a firm slam. “Hi,” I say as I turn to face him completely.
“I brought breakfast.” He doesn’t enter my room, almost as if he’s afraid to, and I go to him, my steps tentative, my mind turning over and over the discussion I had with Evan.
“I heard. Thank you.” I stop just in front of him. He smells good. Looks even better. “Doughnuts?”
He nods, a faint smile curling his lips. He didn’t shave this morning and there’s a faint growth of stubble lining his jaw, tinged with gold. I want to rub my palm against his face. Press my cheek to his. But I restrain myself. “Evan says they’re your favorite.”
“My guilty pleasure.” I could call him the same.
His smile grows. “I like that you actually have a guilty pleasure.”
“Ha ha.” I reach out to slug his shoulder but he’s quicker than me, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into him. I brace my other hand on his chest, my fingers curling into his T-shirt and I lift my head to find his descending, his mouth drawing closer, closer…
His lips are on mine, soft and damp. I let him kiss me, a shiver stealing through my body when he lets go of my wrist to entwine our hands, lacing our fingers together as he delves his tongue deep inside my mouth. The kiss goes from sweet to hot in a matter of seconds and his arm tightens around my waist when I try to pull away.
I can’t focus when he does that. And I think he knows it.
“I couldn’t sleep last night,” he whispers against my lips when we break apart. “All I could think about was you.”
“Nick,” I start but he kisses me again, silencing me. His magical kisses won’t let me forget what I wanted to say though.
I just choose not to say it. Classic avoidance technique, but I don’t want to face reality right now. I don’t think he wants to either.
We go to the kitchen and I flip open the lid of the giant pink box that’s sitting on the counter, grabbing a maple bar and plopping it on a napkin. Evan joins us minutes later, fresh out of his shower and dressed for work.
“I think you should call into work,” my brother suggests casually right before he sinks his teeth into a chocolate frosted doughnut.
I’m shocked. Since we’ve been on our own, we’ve never called in sick to our jobs. We need every hour—and every dollar that hour brings—that we can get. “Are you serious?”
He shrugs and
takes a sip from the to-go cup of coffee Nick brought him. “It’s going to be a long day for you. The faster you get back up there and give your statement to the police, the faster it’s all done.”
Ugh. I know what he means, but Evan can be so rude sometimes. I send him a look, wishing he would shut up so he doesn’t hurt Nick’s feelings.
“I think you should too,” Nick says, settling onto the barstool right next to mine. “I agree with your brother. The faster we get this handled, the better. There’s a storm brewing out there too you know.”
“There is?” A shiver races down my spine and I wonder if he’s being literal or referring to something else. There have been lots of storms brewing lately, all around me. Some of them even I created.
Evan leaps up and goes to the front window, jerking open the blinds, allowing the weak morning light to filter in. The sky outside is unusually dark and foreboding, the wind blowing through the bare trees, rocking their branches almost violently. “Hell yeah, there is.” He turns to study us, his brows lowered, a frown on his face. “Maybe you should wait it out.”
Ah, my worried brother. I still marvel at how much he’s changed in such a short amount of time. I guess responsibility does that to a person. “Make up your mind,” I tease him. “Either we stay or we go.”
“We should definitely go,” Nick says firmly as his gaze meets mine for the briefest second before he returns his attention to Evan, who walks back to the counter and grabs his doughnut. “She can call in to her work, we’ll get on the road and take care of this.”
“Just…be careful. I bet traffic will be for shit and the road conditions bad,” Evan says, shoving the last of his doughnut into his mouth before he reaches into the box and grabs another one. “I hate driving in the rain and dealing with idiots who speed.”
“You should hear yourself right now,” I say, barely repressing the laugh that wants to escape. Once upon a time he was the idiot who was always speeding. “You sound like an old man.”
“Shit’s changed, Rev,” he says, his voice sounding downright…dire. Sometimes I miss my cocky, jerkwad brother. Only because I miss how carefree he used to be. Now the weight of the world is always on his shoulders. “You know this better than anyone.”
“I’m not worried,” I say, waving my hand. “The weather keeps lying anyway. None of the storms that have come through have amounted to much.”
“The sky is pretty damn dark,” Evan points out, his attention going to Nick. “Don’t drive like a total jackass. Think of my sister.”
“I’m always thinking of your sister,” Nick says with complete sincerity.
My heart swells at his words. “Stop trying to scare him,” I chastise Evan.
“He’s not trying to scare me,” Nick reassures me, resting his hand over mine. “He’s just worried about you.”
They are all worried about me and I both appreciate their concern and want them to knock it off. Fine, I’ve acted like a simpering baby most of my life, but how can I grow and spread my wings if they’re constantly trying to hold me back?
“We’ll be fine.” I smile brightly but it feels oddly false. “Everything will be just fine.”
***
Two p.m., longest day ever
The tension in the air of my truck cab is thick. Reverie and I have hardly spoken since we left her apartment and at first, I figured she was just worried about the weather.
Because Evan was right, it’s for shit. The moment we pulled onto the freeway the skies opened up and dumped rain on us. So heavy it became hard to see and traffic slowed to a crawl. Probably safer but frustrating as hell.
We’ve been on the road for almost two hours and we’re almost there, thank Christ. I’m anxious, feeling antsy after concentrating on the road for so long, and I’m dying to get out and stretch my legs.
Her silence is starting to freak me out. Is she having regrets? What if she doesn’t tell the cops the truth after all? Not that I think she’d come all this way just to screw me over but…
I don’t know. After dealing with Krista for so long it’s hard for me to wrap my brain around a girl wanting to actually help me, I guess.
We kissed when I came back from making the breakfast run but other than that, there’s been no real affection happening between us. She’s sitting in her seat and I’m sitting in mine and the space between us feels long. Like miles, oceans, galaxies long. She’s got her arms crossed in front of her and her face averted as she stares out the window, her gaze locked on the ocean as we pass by it.
The water is gray and swirling, capped white and turbulent. The storm is stirring everything up including my thoughts and I can hardly fucking stand it.
“Are you mad at me?” I finally ask, unable to take it anymore.
She turns to look at me, her arms still crossed in front of her chest, her expression incredulous. Relief trickles through my veins but I’m cautious until I hear her answer. “Why would you ask that?”
I shrug, feeling stupid for asking. “You’ve hardly talked to me.”
“You’ve hardly talked to me,” she returns.
A frustrated chuckle escapes me. “Driving in this shit weather is doing a number on me I guess.”
“And knowing I have to talk to the police and answer their questions is making me nervous,” she says softly. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m not mad at you.” She pauses. “Are you mad at me?”
“Hell, no,” I say vehemently. “I’m grateful you’re doing this for me.”
“I’m not doing anything but telling the truth.” Another pause, this one longer before she says, “Why did you not let me see you when I came by the jail?”
I withhold the frustrated sigh that wants to stream out of me. “I…I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Like what? Like an innocent man being held against his will?”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” I retort but damn it, her words stick with me because she’s right.
“No, I’m really not. Your refusing to see me broke my heart, Nick. I thought…I thought you hated me or that you were mad at me when I didn’t do anything. I—I don’t know, it was all so crazy around then and I didn’t understand what was happening.”
“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again until you finally get it. I was trying to protect you. I didn’t want the cops to find out you were with me because of who you are, Reverie. You’re the daughter of a famous televangelist. They would’ve splashed my scandal all over the news and dragged you along with me.”
“But at least you wouldn’t have been a suspect any longer,” she says.
“Yeah, but your reputation would’ve been ruined.”
“My reputation was already ruined because of what my parents did. No one wants to talk to the Hales unless they can find out some juicy gossip. My mom spoke to the media at first because she was trying so hard to portray herself as the victim but after realizing all they were doing was vilifying her, she gave up.” Reverie shakes her head. “You tried to protect me for nothing, Nick. I hope you realize that.”
“Am I supposed to feel bad about that?” I ask, chancing a glance in her direction to find her studying me.
“I don’t know,” she says with a little shrug.
Damn. Females. They make no sense to me, even the ones I love.
I pull into town not fifteen minutes later and I head straight for the police station, not wanting to waste any time. Now I’m the one left confused. I don’t know what Reverie wants from me and I’m almost afraid to ask because I might not want to hear her answer. The push and pull going on between us is aggravating to say the least.
My conversation with Evan earlier this morning repeats in my head, no matter how hard I try to banish it.
She’s too young.
You’re too young.
She’s still in high school.
She has so much potential.
You live in a different city.
You come from two different worlds.
>
She has enough to deal with.
And so do you.
Your summer fling was meaningless. You both just got…caught up.
I protested only the last reason because what happened between Reverie and I over the summer was the farthest thing from meaningless. But whatever. Evan’s never been in love. He doesn’t know what it’s like.
“Is this okay?” I ask after I park the truck in front of the station. The rain is still coming down hard, hitting the windshield with rhythmic force, and she peers up at the imposing building in front of us, squinting. “That we came here first?”
“Yeah.” She presses her lips together. “I hope I say the right thing.”
“Just tell them the truth. That’s all they want to hear.”
“That detective wasn’t very nice.”
“He’s just pissed because he’d love to pin Krista’s murder on me.” That they have no other suspects makes me think Krista’s killer might’ve done this before. She hung out with all kinds of shady characters, especially the last few months of her life. It could’ve been anyone.
But it definitely wasn’t me.
“Does he hate you that much?”
“He just doesn’t have any other suspect. What they really hate is having an open murder case that they can’t solve. The town doesn’t like it either, imagining a murderer walking their streets.” Something I have close experience with. I’ve been considered a murderer in not just one but two separate cases.
I really need to get the hell out of this town.
“I can’t say that I blame them. But it’s not right that they seem to always blame you either.” Reverie shivers. “I don’t like how much it makes me sad, being here. It’s so different during the winter. Dark and cold and dreary.”
“Not always.” It’s brighter now that she’s here with me but I don’t say that. She’d probably just roll her eyes and tell me to stop anyway. “But yeah. It’s a different town when summer’s over and the tourists leave.”
“Michael left too, right? Do you still talk to him?” She flashes me a smile. “I miss him. He’s so goofy. He always made me laugh.”