“Well, aren’t you lucky then.”
Sniffing, I back away from him, my butt colliding with the hostess stand. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“I’m not implying anything, sweetheart. What’s throwing me off is you saying you didn’t talk to your boyfriend when he came to see you last night. I’m finding it hard to believe.”
“I’m telling the truth.” My voice rises but I can’t seem to care despite my being at work. I’ve had it with this guy. My newfound rebellious streak decides to show itself. Authority figures don’t scare me. “He tried to stop me when I left work and then again at my apartment but I refused to talk to him. I went inside and haven’t seen him since. We’re not together anymore. We haven’t been since I came back here at the end of summer.” It’s the truth, no matter how hard it is to say it.
“So you live in an apartment? Where are your parents?” He changes the subject, his tone innocent enough but I see right through him.
Jerk. If he knows as much as he’s letting on about Nick then he must know all about me. “I live with my older brother.”
“Right. Evander Hale.” He pushes his sleeve up to check his watch before he settles his gaze on me. “He’s part of a murder investigation you know. Your boyfriend.”
Krista. Of course, I know. “He didn’t do it,” I say firmly.
“How can you be so sure?”
Pausing, I press my lips together, contemplating what I should say next. The truth would be good, right? It’s the least I can do. I refuse to be dishonest like Mom and Dad. Lies are destructive and the more you tell them, the bigger they grow. What my parents did, how many people they hurt, I can’t change what they did. I can’t take their actions back and make everything right again. It’s too late.
But it’s not too late for Nick. I can defend him. I can tell the truth and get the police off his back once and for all.
“I’m one hundred percent sure because the night of the murder you’re talking about?” I swallow hard before I blurt out, “Nicholas Fairfield was with me.”
***
November 13th, later that night
Watching that jackass cop exit the restaurant where Reverie works just about does me in. Frustration threatens to overwhelm and I tell myself to get a grip but it’s damn hard. I thought it was over. I thought they were letting me be because they had no evidence against me but clearly I’m wrong. That asshole followed me here and actually went in to her work to speak to Reverie. About me.
I leave her alone so I can’t hurt her any longer and it works. The minute I come near her again, I bring trouble with me. If she refused to talk to me before, she’ll probably try and call the cops on me now. Not that I can blame her.
I’m so pissed I want to break that freaking detective’s smug face with my fist. But that would be about the stupidest thing I could ever do so I lie in wait, sitting in my truck in the parking lot across the street from the restaurant. How I missed him walking in there I have no clue but there’s no telling what he might’ve said to Reverie.
There’s no telling what Reverie might have said to him either. Not that she’d chuck me or make up lies about me because I’ve never been anything but honest with her. I just…I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t like it.
The detective—I think his name is Jacoby—glances in the exact direction of where my truck is parked and I sink low in my seat, my head barely above the steering wheel I’m slumped so low. He stares hard into the darkness, looking right at me before he starts walking, headed straight in the direction of where I’m parked.
I slouch further but it’s no use. He’s coming for me, stops right by the driver’s door and raps his knuckles on the window. “Open up, Fairfield.”
Reluctantly I reach out and roll down the window, bracing myself against the brisk gust of air that blows inside my truck. “You’re following me.”
Jacoby doesn’t bother to deny it. “We thought it was odd, that you were leaving town.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me this entire time?” How’d I miss them trailing me? I got lazy I guess.
He doesn’t answer. “Spoke to your girlfriend. Though she denied being your girl.”
His words probe under my skin, dig at nerves. “Leave her out of this.”
“Seems like she’s the whole reason you came here though, right? I mean, it’s not like you to took a joy ride to Los Angeles. That’s pretty far to go, costs a lot of money in gas. Money you don’t really have. And then she rejects you? Man, that’s gotta be tough.” He slowly shakes his head and makes a tsking noise.
I sit up in my seat, clenching my hands into fists. Trying to provoke me and get a reaction, see if I’ll say or do something stupid. All cops are assholes. I contemplated being one and then told myself to snap the fuck out of it. “There’s nothing you need to ask her so leave her alone,” I mutter.
“There’s plenty to ask her. Hell, if all goes as planned, she’s going to be coming to the station Sunday morning so we can go over the events of the night your ex was murdered.” He says the words so casually, like no big deal, but they explode like tiny bombs in my brain, giving me a headache.
“Why are you questioning her about Krista’s murder?” I did my best to protect her and keep her out of the investigation. Yeah, Reverie is my alibi and I wouldn’t have to deal with half this shit if I’d come out from the start and told the truth about my being with Reverie that night but I did it to protect her. She didn’t need to deal with my shit. She had enough to handle already. “I’ve told you before she knows nothing.”
“She said otherwise.”
Shit. Closing my eyes, I thunk the back of my head against the headrest, wishing I could take back what Jacoby just told me. “What are you talking about?”
“Your little girlfriend finally came clean with me. Don’t understand why you’re so upset, considering her statement is going to get you off the hook. That is, if she’s telling the truth. Why you’ve been hiding this for so long, I have no idea, but considering you’re not the brightest bulb in the light socket, there’s no explaining what you do or why you do it.”
I practically growl with frustration. I’m so over cops and their attitudes. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a complete asshole?”
Jacoby grins, looking strangely pleased. “All the damn time.”
I don’t doubt that for a second.
Just past eleven-thirty I see Reverie leave the restaurant and I’m out of my truck like a damn bullet, running across the street, darting in front of a car and earning a blaring succession of angry honks for my efforts. The sound catches Reverie’s attention and she stops, her expression going blank while she waits for me to approach.
I take her waiting as a good sign. I’ll cling to anything at this point.
“You’re here,” she says, though she doesn’t sound surprised, or that happy either.
I stop, keeping some distance between us so she doesn’t freak out or bolt. “I need to talk to you.”
She crosses her arms in front of her chest, making the black coat she’s wearing bulge in a weird way. Doesn’t detract from her beauty though. She’s the best damn thing I’ve ever seen despite my irritation with her for telling the detective about our night together. “I want to talk to you too,” she says.
Surprise fills me. I figured she’d want to send me packing. “Then let’s get out of here.” I take her arm and start to escort her across the street toward the parking lot but she drags her feet, making me stop and turn to her. “What’s wrong?”
Reverie nibbles on her lower lip, the little tell that she’s nervous. “Just because I’m going to talk to you, that doesn’t mean I think we should get back together.” Pausing, her gaze meets mine. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
Why is she so determined to rub that in my face? Remind me that I’ve blown my chance with her? I don’t get it. She’s not a mean person—she’s the farthest from that really. I thought at one point she
was in love with me. I know I’m in love with her…still. I tried to deny it but I can’t. Seeing her, being with her again, even during these few stolen moments, reassures me that my feelings for her haven’t changed.
But it’s a false sort of reassurance I need to get over because clearly, she’s over me.
“Don’t worry, I get it. Whatever,” I mutter as I take her hand and practically drag her across the street. It’s hard to ignore the tingles I feel when I touch her but I do my best. “Let’s go.”
We get to the truck and I release her hand so I can open the passenger door for her. She stares at me warily, parting her lips as if she wants to say something before she changes her mind, shaking her head while she climbs inside my truck. The scent of her perfume lingers in the air, driving me crazy, and I exhale loudly, trying not to breathe it in.
Stupid.
Being close to her is going to be fucking difficult if I can’t touch her. She’s said more than once she doesn’t want to be with me and I’ll respect her wishes but damn, it’s gonna be hard. Complete torture.
But to keep her safe, to keep her happy, I’ll do whatever I can.
I round the front of the truck and climb inside, slamming the door and trapping her sweet scent so it completely surrounds me now. I grab the steering wheel, my grip white knuckled as I start the engine and chance a glance in her direction.
“Where do you want to go and talk?” she asks, her voice soft, her eyes luminous. My heart softens and I want to lean into her, so I can drown in her gaze. Pull her into my arms and kiss her until she can’t think straight. She’s thinking too much, I can almost guarantee that’s what her problem is and I want to convince her that two of us—we’re a good idea.
A most excellent idea, if she’d just give us a chance again.
“I don’t know.” She looks away, keeps her gaze fixed on her knees as she plucks at the fabric of her pants. “Where are you staying?”
I swallow past my embarrassment. I don’t want sympathy but I’m not going to lie. “You’re sitting in it.”
She lifts her head, her jaw dropping open as she glances around the small cab of the truck. No way will I feel humiliated by my confession. “Are you serious?”
“Where else am I going to stay? I can’t afford a hotel room.” I didn’t plan out this trip as thoroughly as I should have. I assumed Reverie would accept me with open arms and let me stay at her place the moment she saw me.
Guess that’s what I get for assuming.
“So you just came here to try and…what? Find me? Convince me we belong together? And stay in your truck like you’re homeless or something?”
Her words are pissing me off. I feel like enough of an idiot, I don’t need her to make me feel worse. “I’m not fucking homeless. You know I have an apartment,” I mutter as I crank the engine and throw the truck into reverse, backing out of the parking spot so quick, the tires peel loudly against the asphalt.
She flinches at my words, gripping the handle above her head as she glares at me accusingly. “I didn’t say you were. I just don’t understand why you came all the way here without a plan. You always seem to have a plan.”
“I wanted to see you, okay?” I hit the brakes at the parking lot exit and turn to find her watching me with a wild spark in her gaze, her fingers still curled around the plastic handle above her head. “I wasn’t thinking. Wasn’t planning. All I wanted was to see you again. You were all I could focus on. I was stupid.”
Reverie doesn’t say a word and we stare at each other for a long, tension-filled moment. Finally she looks away, averting her face so she’s looking out the window. I pull out of the parking lot, driving aimlessly until she finally says, “We can go back to my place.”
Relief fills me and she gives me directions when I ask, since I can hardly remember where I went when I followed the bus to her apartment complex last night. Other than her occasional guiding comment, she says nothing and I do the same, afraid I’m going to blurt out something stupid yet again.
I should’ve never admitted to her that she was the only reason I came to Los Angeles, but she had to know this right? There’s nothing here for me. Only her.
“Is your brother home?” I ask as we pull into the apartment parking lot fifteen minutes later. It’s starting to sprinkle, the rain dotting my windshield and blurring my ability to see but I still haven’t turned on the windshield wipers. I don’t want to face Evan. He would probably try and kick me out, not that I can blame him. I’m the asshole that took his sister’s virginity and made her cry.
“No, Evan’s at work. He won’t come home for hours.” She smiles ruefully. “We both work a lot now.”
“Complete turnaround from a few months ago, huh?” I park my truck and turn off the engine, pulling the keys out of the ignition. I clutch them in my hand, the metal digging into my palm as I turn to face her.
Her smile turns real and seeing it sucks the breath out of my lungs. “Yeah. It’s kind of crazy, how much my life has changed.”
“Trust me, I get it. One minute everything is good and then the next, it can all change. In a blink of an eye, all because of what someone else did, not because of your own actions.”
She contemplates me, tilting her head, her long, wavy blond hair spilling over her shoulder. “You do get it, huh. After everything that happened to you, when your friend betrayed you, were you scared?”
“Yeah. I was.” More like I’m scared she’s gonna reject me for good and send me away. And I don’t want to get out of this truck. I like the way she’s talking to me, looking at me. Like she trusts me again. “Your parents betrayed you too.”
“They did,” she agrees, nodding once. “I feel…guilty.”
“You didn’t do it,” I point out, surprised she’d say such a thing. “You didn’t steal all that money.”
“But I spent it. I benefited from what my parents did. I lived an amazing life that was funded dishonestly. I wish I could pay all of those people back.”
“That’s not your fault. You’re just a kid, Reverie.” Giving in to my urges, I reach out and touch her, let my fingertips graze the ends of her silky soft hair. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away and I take advantage by touching her again. “You can’t blame yourself for your parents’ mistakes.”
She leans into my touch and I cup the side of her head, threading my fingers fully into her hair. Her eyes close and I swear she’s going to cry. “But I do. I can’t help it. Don’t you ever blame yourself for your friend’s mistake, when he said you killed that guy? Did you ever feel responsible?”
“No.” I never did. What David did to me was unforgivable. I don’t think I can ever accept his apology. He almost ruined my life. “But I do feel guilt over what happened to Krista.”
Reverie stiffens and pulls away from my touch, moving away from me so far that the distance between us suddenly seems endless. The air goes frosty as her expression goes completely blank and she reaches for the door handle. “Let’s go.”
I follow her up to the apartment she shares with her brother, mulling her lack of comment regarding my guilt over Krista’s death. Krista was a complete pain in my ass and tried her best to ruin our relationship any way she could. I can’t help but feel bad for what happened to her though. I’d known her since we were little kids. We’d been friends for years. Yeah, the bad stuff at the end sucked but no one deserves to die like Krista did. I want to help find her killer but it’s kind of hard when the cops focus so much on me.
Assholes.
We enter the apartment and Reverie flicks on the lamp near the front door, illuminating the room with soft golden light. There’s not much furniture and what’s there is simple. I watch as she moves about the room, setting her purse and backpack on the dining room table before she goes into the kitchen.
“Want something to drink?” she asks.
“Water is fine. Thank you.” I sit on the edge of the couch, bouncing my leg nervously as I wait for her return. I’m not going to put
her out. I’m not going to stay long either because clearly this isn’t going to work. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with me and I’m not going to push it.
All I want to talk about with her is why she told the cop we were together the night of Krista’s murder and that was it. I’ll hop in my truck, buy a giant coffee or soda at a convenience store and get the hell out of here. Go back home where I belong. In Nowheresville doing nothing.
She brings me a cold water bottle from the refrigerator and I thank her, twisting off the cap so I can take a swig. Reverie settles in the overstuffed chair across from the couch, her expression expectant, her hands gripping her knees as if she needs to brace herself against whatever is about to be said.
“You shouldn’t have talked to the detective,” I finally say, earning an eye roll from her.
“What am I going to say? Leave me alone? Tell him to go?”
“Yeah, absolutely.” I set the bottle of water on the tiny table to my left. “You don’t owe him anything. Tell him to call your lawyer or whatever.”
“I don’t have a lawyer,” she admits softly.
Well, that’s shocking. I’d figured the entire Hale family needed a lawyer after everything that had happened. “I wish you wouldn’t have said what you did to him.”
“All I did was tell him the truth.” She shrugs. “Why didn’t you tell the police you were with me from the beginning?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be involved.”
“I was already involved, from the very beginning I’ve been a part of this but you pushed me away. You never came back for me, Nick. I had no idea what happened.”
“They stuck me in jail, that’s what happened.” I stand and start pacing, fighting off the guilt, the pain, the irritation…all the emotions that are flooding me at once. “They held me for questioning for forty-eight hours. Tried to break me down pretty much the entire span of those forty-eight hours too. By the time they let me out and I went back to your house, you were gone.”